Live and Direct

No more Copenhagen

2006-11-25T01:30:00.000-08:00

We're back. We got everything arranged, said goodbye to friends and colleagues, and made it home in one piece. There were plenty of frustrations along the way, and I've been in a colossally bad mood the past few days, which the second bout of jetlag in two weeks just isn't helping any. Today, I went to bed at 7pm, woke up at 1am, and here I sit.

Being back in Denmark was an odd rollercoaster of feelings. I didn't feel as much sadness about leaving as I had thought I would, though being surrounded by colleagues and old friends telling me that we were making the right decision probably helped there. The general suckiness of our life in Copenhagen must have been pretty clear to everyone. Or more realistically expressed, I did a good job of telling everybody how sucky things were while we were there. But what was interesting was how my feelings about being in Copenhagen changed radically from day to day on this trip. The first night we got in, we went out for a walk around town and had dinner at a well-known cafe, Cafe Sommersko. We paid too much for beers and hamburgers, but in general, it felt pretty good to be back. The weather was unseasonably warm (thanks again, global warming. I'll send that check off to Al Gore soon), and the city was so beautiful and felt so much more alive than most American cities, with people out walking and riding their bikes. We strolled through the old part of downtown and looked at familiar spots. Copenhagen is beautiful.

The next couple of days were more of a blur as we struggled with jetlag, not sleeping until 5am, just in time for sunrise, and caught up with friends and started the goodbyes. We got to spend the night with our good friends Martin and Louise in their new home, a completely renovated school house in the country near the beach. They live surrounded by a cornfield, have a five minute walk to the ocean where fishermen bring up daily catches of plaice and blue mussels, and can see the water from their front room. Well done. We were feeling pretty good about Denmark, at least for other people's version of it.

Come Monday, it was back to reality as we struggled with making the arrangements to move and ship the rest of our belongings. I had been trying to get a straight answer about shipping quotes for weeks in advance with no luck, so I was left to sort it out in Copenhagen. Add in a truly bizarre set of encounters with the owner of a Danish outpost of Mailboxes, Etc., and by Tuesday night, I was very much over the entire country. I just wanted to go someplace quiet and wait for the plane to take us home. Fortunately, by Wednesday, we had sorted out the shipping details, during which time I was reminded of a key survival detail in Denmark: if you want to something done and done correctly, you're better off asking a Danish woman to do it for you. After weeks of run-around with shipping companies in the US and Denmark, an efficient and friendly Danish woman at Fairplay Shipping whipped the whole thing into shape in about 30 minutes, and saved us money to boot.

That night, we went to our favorite pub in Copenhagen, Bankeråt. After a few beers, it felt like we had never left and that the flight to Seattle and our lives there was a distant reality. Of course, in our case, it also meant a reminded us of how broke and bored we were so much of the time we lived there. The stress of the week and a day of moving boxes finally cut up with us and we called it an early night.

Throughout our trip, the question of whether we'd ever come back came up a lot, understandably. After living there a year, there's not much pressing reason for us to go back, and our next trip(s) to Europe are likely to take us to Paris and Rome, though I'd also like to spend some time on the British Isles outside of London. And then there's Tokyo and Vietnam to visit as well. It's odd to think that I probably won't go back to Denmark for quite some time, conceivably for years or perhaps never, as my relationship with Denmark and the Danes has been a defining factor in my life, particularly up through college. I'm not really sure how I feel about it all right now; some sort of mixture of lingering anger over our difficulties there and melancholy at such a clearly ended chapter leavened with a readiness to move on and vigorous anticipation for my future in Seattle with Sara.

Live and Direct from Copenhagen

2006-11-18T11:53:00.000-08:00

We made it to Copenhagen. The flight over was uneventful and went pretty quickly, though we did witness a near mutiny by German tourists in the security line at Heathrow when an airport agent was seen to be encouraging "queue jumping." The first night in Copenhagen, we were charmed by the city all over again. The weather has been really pleasant, much better than Seattle lately and even warmish at times. Another reason to be thankful for that hole in the ozone layer. Since then, our days have been a mixture of packing and moving logistics in the day and seeing friends and saying our goodbyes at night. So far, no unpleasant encounters at my old work place, though I've also kept a low profile and there's always next week to come.

Jet lag has us pretty screwed up right now, dozing off at odd hours and not really able to sleep until about 6am, just in time for the sun to come up. I spent the small hours of last night mentally composing the ultimate kiss-off letter to my former departmental chair, though in the light of day it seemed like less of a great idea to actually write and send it.

Off to Copenhagen

2006-11-13T10:00:00.000-08:00

Sara and I leave for Copenhagen tomorrow. We'll be there for nine days, tying up loose ends and arranging for our belongings to be shipped back to the States. I anticipate it will be a little weird, occupying so much of our time saying goodbye to friends and colleagues, though I guess given the last three years' many changes, it should be something we're used to. On the other hand, it will be nice to be able to enjoy the city without worrying about things like jobs and settling in. We might even be able to afford enjoying ourselves a bit.

Tee-hee-hee

2006-11-08T10:16:00.000-08:00

I'm as giddy as a school-girl.

First week at work

2006-10-21T09:02:00.000-07:00

This was my first week at the new job, and so far, I love it. Granted, there have been some reentry turbulence as I struggle to readjust to a regular, 40+ hour work schedule. For some reason, taking a nap every three hours during the day is totally frowned upon at my new place of employment, and evidently they expect me to show results in exchange for salary, which is a radical concept at my former job. But on the plus side, the people are really cool, the project is super badass awesome, and I think I can do the job right for them. I've heard an earful about the guy who was doing this job before me, or rather, not doing it, as the story goes. So while for my new coworkers, the bar isn't set too high, for myself, I really want to do a great job for them and prove myself worthy of their trust in hiring me.

The only real snag right now is that I'm taking the bus, which is fine for going to work in the morning but starts to suck the later you go into the evening returning home. If anybody knows of anybody selling a cheap, reliable car, I'd be happy to hear of it. Also, our cat is totally confused and apparently a little resentful that I'm no longer around during the day to cater to her whims. She's taken to ignoring me when I get home unless I'm willing to commit to at least a good fifteen minutes of playtime.

Favorite movies

2006-10-01T07:47:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, I had an interesting conversation with Mark and Sally about favorite movies. I get asked for my favorite films a fair amount, given my professional interest. It's a surprisingly tough question to answer. First, there's the distinction between films that I admire as great art, and films I actually watch over and over for entertainment. Then there's the challenge of selecting the films. There are plenty of movies, like _Citizen Kane_ or _Rules of the Game_, that I recognize as revolutionary to the medium and yet can only appreciate in an intellectual way. Moreover, at whatever point you think you've come to a conclusion, three more movies crowd their way into the list. Finally, there's the slight feeling of arrogance, to look at over one hundred years of filmmaking and while fully aware of my own ignorance of important films and filmmakers, to say these are the great films. Still, there's something really fun about making the list and putting it out there, and inevitably, a few films show up on that list over and over. So after that lengthy preface, here is my current list of films that I think are great, in no particular order.

* _Touch of Evil_, Orson Welles, 1958. I first became aware of it through Robert Altman's _The Player_ (also a good film), where a naive screenwriter attends a screening before being killed by an amoral studio executive. I found the film, watched it, and was blown away. Charleston Heston plays a straight to the point of ridiculous cop on a border town surrounded by fascinating characters developed by some of the most skillful writing in film, over all of which towers Welles' own portrayal of a crooked cop shambling toward a bad end. The 1998 "alternate version" that cuts closer to Welles' original vision for the film cemented this as one of my favorites of all time.

* _Blade Runner_, Ridley Scott, 1982. I first saw this film on home video as a kid back in the early 80s, when laser discs still roamed the earth and the major studios were hesitant to release their big films to video for fear of cutting into box-office proceeds. In effect this meant that in the little town where I grew up, there were a limited number of movies to watch on video, and I saw most of them repeatedly. This one always stood out. Setting aside the endless debates about Deckard, is he or isn't he, this movie is just beautiful to watch, from the splendid decay of the future of Los Angeles to Rutger Hauer's avenging angel Roy Batty. There are probably more lines from this film that show up in my regular vocabulary than any other movie I've seen.

*_The Celebration_, Thomas Vinterberg, 1998. The greatest film most people haven't seen, and my first Danish entry. Striking a balance between bourgeois satire and grand Greek tragedy, the film is simultaneously hilarious, devastating, and reassuring. I've taught it numerous times over the past few years, and it always sticks with students in ways few other films do.

*_Wild Strawberries_, Ingar Bergman, 1957. While _Seventh Seal_ is a more striking film and does more to present Bergman's genius at a young age, this is the film that stays with me and pleases me more. An old man faces mortality, successful and yet full of regrets: Bergman transforms a typical Scandinavian depression-fest into a meditation on the important moments in life.

*_Unforgiven_, Clint Eastwood, 1992. In a way, this revisioning of the Western genre makes an interesting companion piece to _Wild Strawberries_, as both revolve around regret and the means, not the possibility, of redemption. Eastwood doesn't get enough credit for being a wonderful director, and by that I mean not just the kind of director that wins Oscars (which historically doesn't mean a whole lot), but the kind of director that makes lasting films. Another nice companion to this film is _High Noon_ (Fred Zinneman, 1952), starring Gary Cooper as a very human lawman faced with an impossible situation.

*_Steamboat Bill, Jr._, Buster Keaton & Charles Reisner, 1928. While _The General_ is more well-known, I think this is the best showcase for Keaton's physical comedy and has the best gags. It also has some of his most well-known sequences, such as him battling a storm through the streets of a small town as it collapses around him.

Those are the movies that make the cut right now. As soon as I hit "publish post" I'll think of several more. Of course, there aren't the movies I watch repeatedly for fun. Now that I've got less to prove professionally as a "serious scholar of film," I can freely admit that the three films I watch most frequently when bored are _The 40 Year Old Virgin_, _Notting Hill_, and _Jackass_.

Finally, the big news

2006-10-01T07:40:00.000-07:00

The big news on the job front has finally come to pass. I've accepted a position as senior associate producer at a major local video game studio, and I couldn't be happier. The position is a considerable promotion from my previous work at SCEA, with considerable more responsibility. Basically, I will be responsible for building and maintaining the schedule for a very large budget, AAA title, or as the producer describes it, "second in command" of the game. There is plenty of room for growth and advancement down the road, and the game itself, well, it's very cool.

The process of getting the job was very tumultuous. It's been roughly two months since I first applied, and in the interim, I've gone from being convinced I had the job to knowing for sure I wouldn't and back again, several times. I went in for multiple interviews, sent out numerous e-mails, and generally had to fight to convince them that I am the right guy for the job. That effort, and a generous dose of good luck, finally paid last week when they made the offer. My start date is in a couple of weeks.

Checking back in

2006-09-08T16:55:00.000-07:00

Rotten cat
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

So I sort of fell of the planet re: blogging. I held off posting, because I was hoping to report big news on the job front. However, the big news as of yet is still pending, so instead I can report big news on the new cat and new apartment front. I'll post some pics of the apartment later. For now, you can enjoy this pic of Delia enjoying her favorite spot in the world, which is the office chair. She has a way of making it clear that it is now her office chair, to the point of crawling up behind us and trying to push us out when we've overstayed our welcome.

Otherwise, not much to report. Sara talked me into working out the other night for the first time in months (if not years). I think I broke myself. Evidently, sitting around the apartment for eight months playing video games, watching TV, and occasionally writing a bit isn't the fast track to fitness that I thought it would be. I used that one weight machine where you grab hold of a bar/weighted pully system overhead, sit down, and pull the bar down to your chest. After thirty of those, I was done. Two days later, and I currently can't really move my arms very well.

Danish Style

2006-07-12T08:17:00.000-07:00

Last night, Sara and I went up to Central Cinema to catch a screening of an in-progress documentary on Danish hip-hop called Dansk Stil (Danish Style). It was kind of a random coincidence, as we didn't hear about the event until that day through the theatre's news e-mail, but we were happy to make it out, especially as it is just a walk up the street for us. The house was sold out, mostly with friends of the filmmaker, a local kid who I'm pretty sure I've seen out at shows before. The documentary was pretty good, though it lacked a coherent through-line or story to hook the audience, and most of the groups interviewed were pretty minor figures in Danish pop culture. There is a surprising amount of decent hip-hop in Denmark, and while there is also an amusingly high level of "thug life" imitators talking like they're from Brooklyn or Compton, guys like MC Clemens and Outlandish are doing some interesting things. It would have been nice to hear from them, but I understand these things can be tough.

The clear star of the film was a graffiti artist who puts up vaguely political poster art around town under the name "HuskMitNavn" (RememberMyName). Sara and I used to see his work all over Copenhagen, and I always liked what I saw, but getting a chance to hear him talk about his work, even anonymously, was a real thrill. Favorite work: the "Winterdick" series, which will make more sense when you see the pictures. It's cold in Denmark. I think I'll try to print out a large version of the .jpg for the new apartment. (Oh, and by the way, Sara and I decided to take the apartment in West Seattle. We'll be moving at the end of this month).

Rawk'n'Rasslin

2006-06-17T09:43:00.000-07:00

Picture006.jpg
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

Mr. Smallberries invited us out to see the Pin Down Girls wrassle on Friday night, and whoo, what a night! Four bouts, three bands, plenty of booze, and a lot of hootin' and a-hollerin'. Here's my rundown.

Events started with K-Pop and the Coalition of the Willing, who weren't that great so I leave that part out. Next up, the Beerbarians vs. Pop Roxx. Pop Roxx showed a lot of spunk, but after their pet lap dog was stolen, beheaded, and tossed into the crowd, things got ugly. The crowd was clearly behind the Beerbarians. Two buxom, beer guzzling, fur wearing Valkyries whose signature move is called "The Hammer of the Gods." What's not to love? The Beerbarians clearly dominated a very physical match through sheer size and brawn, but in a devastating upset, Pop Roxx pulled an upset victory that left the hall filled with jeers and catcalls.

Next, Las Diablitas took on the Sockit Wenches, a visiting duo from the Rat City Rollergirls roller derby league. During the derby season, I back the Sockit Wenches, but tonight, I had to go with Chimmi and Chonga of Las Diablitas, whose smooth moves and pluck led them to victory. Then, in a controversial decision that will go down in league history, the pin was overturned by the judges on technical grounds of an illegal tap between the partners. Still, I expect great things from these south of the border dynamos.

The Invisible Eyes entertained between cards with a sound conjuring the transition between surf music and 60s California psychedelia. The third bout of the night pitted fellow rollergirls the Throttle Rockets in a grudge match against veteran duo The Westward Ho's. Without question the most brutal bout of the night, the wrasslers went blow for blow as the match devolved into an outright brawl. By that time in the evening, I was too drunk to really remember who won the bout. I think it was the Westward Ho's, but regardless of the outcome, it will only add fuel to his growing rivalry. Smallberries told us the next day that one of his friends in the bout came away with bite marks.

Next up was Lushy, spot-on capturing the sound of Swinging 60s London. Their mellow sound was a bit of an odd note for the otherwise punk rawk feeling of the night, but they sounded so good that it worked. The final bout of the night pitted the New Male Order Vixens against the Tsunami Sisters. There's something not quite right about the New Male Order Vixens. I can't quite put my finger on it, or maybe I don't want to put my finger on it, but one of that team seems awfully burly. Maybe it's steroids. The Tsunami Sisters came out strong, unleashing a deadly combination of martial arts that drove the physically dominant Vixens back. I think they won, but again, I was pretty drunk by then. It doesn't really matter, as the Vixens clearly won the hearts and minds of the crowd when they cornered the Sisters' one-legged midget manager, stole his prosthetic leg, and beat him over the head with it. Now that's wrasslin!

Now with 100% more kitteny freshness!

2006-06-15T14:11:00.000-07:00

Kitten with kittens.
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

We did a kitten round-up in the backyard this week. We figured these little guys were still young enough that they could be socialized as pets. Plus, if they get any bigger, there's no chance we can catch the rascally varmints before they flee into the blackberry brambles that line the back fence. So it was now or never. Oddly, when we brought them to the shelter, they kind of gave us a hard time about it. In their words, they prefer it if the kittens be left with their mother a little longer. We tried to explain the blackberry bush dilemma, but they seemed unconvinced and a tad condemning, and we left feeling like our good deed had gone unappreciated.

The next day, I caught another, so we took it in to join its siblings. The shelter accepted it, but one employee there actually told us not to bring them any more "surprises." Huh?

The kittens sure were cute, though.

Party til your sick!

2006-06-08T06:42:00.000-07:00

Sara and I had an awesomely great weekend that put other great weekends to the shame. We celebrated Nancy's birthday by touring Lake Union in electric boats with a bunch of friends. You can see the censored photos here and here. When you put this many of our friends in one place, fuel them up with alcohol and funny hats, and set them loose on unsuspecting tourists, you have guaranteed mayhem. Those kayakers never knew what hit them. On Sunday, we saw Smoosh and The Eels play at The Showbox with Mark and Mikelle, which was equally awesomely great. Since this was an all-ages show, Smoosh came equiped with their own alternate universe of very short fans who seemed entirely uninterested in the adult universe around and above them. Ii remember being a kid and getting to go to my first concert. Of course, it was Twisted Sister and Iron Maiden playing at the Salt Palace in Salt Lake City, so as first concerts go, it doesn't rank as high. But still, it was fun to see their excitement and think back.

As it turns out, though, it was good that I got my awesomely good good times taken care of over the weekend, as by Monday morning I was flat on my back with one awesomely bad cold. I won't go into the graphic details, but there was mucous involved. And a fair amount of grumpiness. By Wednesday night, things were more or less back to their non-mucousy state. But get this. I coughed and sneezed so much while I was sick that I actually strained all the muscles in my neck. So now I'm walking around like an old man whose head is held on by Elmer's glue. On top of that, Sara left last night for a work conference in Portland, so I have the weekend to feel sorry for myself, alone and crippled. Awhh.

I finished watching the final season of Six Feet Under last night, and I just have to say this may be the best series in TV history. Perfect story arc, perfect ending, and fantastic writing the entire way through. The last season starts to feel a little collage-like at times, but it all makes sense of the final episode. Awesomely great.

Bob's Java Jive

2006-05-24T06:55:00.000-07:00

Sara and I went to Tacoma last Saturday to hang out with her friend Charity. While I've definitely acquired the Seattle sense of superiority toward Tacoma over the years, I have to say that it's pretty cool down there. We went to Hell's Kitchen to see a couple local bands play, Manplus (supercool!) and Raylazer (supersucky!), and there was a refreshing lack of hipster attitude. I mean, sure, the place was packed full of hipsters, but people actually smiled and talked even if they didn't know each other. And I didn't see a single shaggy mullet, undersized novelty T-shirt, or white belt in the place. The bartenders were uniformly nice, even in a punk club, and I got invited to an aerobic-disco birthday party by an overzealous girl named Trash who wielded flyers like they were Luther's 95 Theses. We left the show before the final bands played, mainly due to Raylazer's increasing supersuckiness. But I have to give two thumbs up to the Tacoma club scene, at least what I've seen so far.

But the capper of the night was our visit to Bob's Java Jive. I think I've heard of this Tacoma landmark before; there aren't too many examples of the Fifties' fascination with concrete novelty buildings left in the area, particularly since the demise of the Twin Tee-Pees on Aurora. Bob's Java Jive is famous in an odd sort of way. River Phoenix used to hang out there while he was filming I Love You to Death, and all the locals know it well. But I have to say, Bob's Java Jive may be the most depressing place I've ever been in. I'm a friend of dive bars. I've been in many, and I've not met a dive bar I didn't like. The absence of dive bars was at the top of my list of "Things That are Wrong with Denmark." But Bob's Java Jive may have broken me.

Maybe it was an off night. For a Saturday night, there were few people there, and it didn't help that it was karaoke night. A very punk-in-a-post-millenial-kind-of-way kid (clean, mohawk, striped shirt without holes or stains) held down the DJ duties, and he tried to coax a total of about six people through an evening of singing. One gentleman decided to sing "Summertime" from Porgy and Bess, which I know always makes me feel like dancing. Maybe it was the decor, an inexplicable jungle theme that looked liked it hadn't been touched in probably thirty years. Granted, I've never hung out inside a coffee pot before, so maybe there's always a Baba Louie party going on inside each one, but somehow, this one didn't make me want to be like you-ooo-ooh. Maybe it was the host of career drinkers at the bar who looked like they just got stacked in the corner like chairs when the bar closed for the night. Maybe it was the ripped upholstery and bathroom that smelled like aeons of old urine. Though that's never bothered me before in the host of quaint hell holes I've drunk in before. I mean, I've seen the kitchen of the Jade Pagoda, and I still went back for more.

I entered Bob's Java Jive in a good mood and ready to love the place. Within ten minutes I was slump-shouldered in the corner, ordering [cut --double shots of whiskey--] pints of beer.

The funny thing is, if the place were located within a twenty minute drive of Seattle, it would be packed to the rafters with people every night of the week. Which makes me believe that it might not be the place, but the (lack of) clientele. I think if you got enough people in there on karaoke night, it could seriously rock out.

So I'm proposing a fieldtrip of dedicated drinkers to take over the place for the night and see if we can lift its spirits. Granted, we'll probably need to book hotel rooms to contain our sorry asses after all the [cut --double-whiskies--] pints, but it's a small price to pay for raising the level of drunkenness in Tacoma. Think of it as a civic duty! Who's with me?!

Today was a good day.

2006-05-04T14:33:00.000-07:00

Seattle continues to floor me in its ongoing civic campaign to convince me that I should never want to live anywhere else. The weather is gorgeous today, so I took a walk over to Broadway to print and mail a few things back to Denmark. Along the way, I browsed a few record stores, came very close to buying Calexico's new album, and then decided to get some pho at Pho Cyclo instead. There I decided if I ever make it back to Burning Man, I'm definitely bringing one of these jobbies and handing out Vietnamese iced coffee. On the way back, I got an iced mocha from a very nice barista at the corner of 12th and Pike. I've decided I really like living in the CD, as the great blend of old and new in this neighborhood lends it its particular charm. I also made a mental note to catch a movie at Central Cinema sometime soon. So should you!

Unexpected guest

2006-04-29T12:00:00.000-07:00

Unexpected guest, #1
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

In advance of visits this weekend from my mom and Rose, Sara's sister, we got an unexpected guest yesterday morning. This little guy was hanging around the neighbor's house, crying like a ...well, like a lost kitten. At first, he hissed at me and acted like he was going to bolt, so I left him alone. When I came out a little later, he ran over to me and climbed through the fence. I brought him inside and gave him a little breakfast, after which he settled down. I called the shelter to come pick him up, and while in a perfect world we would have kept him and he would have grown up to be the best cat ever, I think he'll still get a better life than the one ahead of him on the streets. The rampant kitten gang activity in our neighborhood is truly out of control, and I would hate to see his face on the evening news.

Enchantment under the Stars

2006-04-17T09:41:00.000-07:00

So we want to thank everybody for coming to the Enchantment under the Stars Homecoming Ball and for being so fabulous. You can see Sally's pictures here. It was wonderful having so many friends in one place.

So what's your book about?

2006-04-14T07:46:00.000-07:00

Joygantic came over last night after taking Sara out for drinks and dinner, and he gave me a gentle nudge about my lack of blog efforts. He's right. I haven't been feeling the blog lately. I suppose my lack of motivation is a mixture of my ongoing efforts to mentally reconfigure the purpose of this blog now that we're no longer in Denmark, as well as a general demotivation caused by my generally uninteresting life right now. Most days are spent reading e-mail, poking about the Web, and watching television. Which points to a larger issue. When I was an active, motivated scholar, I constantly wished I had more time to research and write. Now, I have nothing but time, and what am I doing with it? Hanging out on Metafilter.

This lack of forward movement seems to me pretty clearly a symptom of my growing apathy toward academia in general. Bottom line, I just don't want to do that anymore. Maybe I would feel differently if the Denmark position were a more positive experience, but I suspect not. When I think about it, I've had misgivings about academia stretching back to when I was an undergrad, but I think I got caught so caught up in the competitive spirit of graduate school that I failed to notice the difference between the motivation of being good at something and the motivation of actually wanting to do that thing.

So I'm trying to pull every string I have in order to find something that will take me out of academia and keep us in Seattle. Unfortunately, the job I mentioned with the major videogame company didn't pan out. There are a few other leads I'm working on, so hopefully something will come of them. Sara keeps having dreams (okay, we'll go ahead and call them nightmares) that I have to go back to Denmark for another year. I don't think it will come to that, but I'm doing my best to insure that it doesn't.

In the meantime, I am continuing to work on my book. Hopefully, I will get more motivated in that direction in the coming weeks. I need to do a bunch of interviews with various game developers as well as do some more digging about the independent videogame industry. If you hear of any jobs, let me know.

Back from GDC

2006-03-26T09:08:00.000-08:00

I got back from GDC on Friday morning. On the whole, I had a great trip. I stayed with friends from my old studio and got a chance to catch up on various news about mutual friends and colleagues, as well as watch them hatch their newest initiative in their ongoing quest for world domination, in the form of a really cool company making videogames the right way. Their game really was the buzz of the Game Connection event, so things are looking good.

GDC is a lot less frantic and loud than E3, but it's still pretty silly. It's a cross between a trade expo and a swap meet, with scores of studios, publishers, and other assorted industry types hawking their wares or looking to hire the next exploitable genius. So I did my best to play along, hawking my wares as an exploitable genius. The response was pretty positive, with most of the major studios or publishers in the Puget Sound region expressing interest in my resume and asking for further info. We'll see what happens there. I also got a chance to talk with the book publishers interested in my book on independent game dev, and we ironed out some of their concerns about content and approach. They also seem okay with the possibility that the book might take longer to write if I get a job in the industry again.

In the evenings, I spent a lot of time at parties sponsored by various game companies, drinking a lot of booze paid for by somebody else. The point of these occasions, I suppose, is to make networking connections with other people in the industry, which I tried to do as much as possible. But mostly, I ended up meeting and catching up with people I used to work with. It was an interesting experience, coming so quickly on the heels of the SCMS film and media studies conference. In academia, the word "networking" causes people to make the Mr. Yuk face and sniff comments like "careerist" and "superficial." Almost as if to prove that they are not motivated by career concerns but by their love of the higher cause of knowledge, academics seem to go out of their way to be rude, combative, and dismissive of each other, particularly if their interactors are in the same field of study. Conversely, every person I met at GDC was making an effort to be affable and interested. Even people who have an active reason not to like me very much. Granted, this friendliness was usually motivated by professional interest, but at the end of the day, given the choice between people acting like a-holes in order to prove how intellectually serious they are and people acting like your best friend because they want to see if you can make them money somehow... Actually, neither of those options sounds all that great when expressed in those terms. Hmm. Well, at least the GDC parties usually had free alcohol.

Job stuff

2006-03-20T14:06:00.000-08:00

I've recently been sending out more official-type inquiries, as well as a few resumes, regarding jobs in game development, and the feedback has been positive. I just had a phone interview with a major developer in the area which will remain nameless for the moment (don't want to jinx things). Word from my referents/contacts is that it went well, so I should hear back in the next couple of weeks. The timing is good, as I'll have plenty of time to go to GDC and otherwise see what opportunities present themselves before potentially being asked to make any commitments. I think it's a good sign that I'm getting positive feedback right away. I've been worried that I might fall in between the cracks, since I don't have as many years or finished games to my credit as I would like. So we'll see what happens.

All's well

2006-03-11T08:18:00.000-08:00

So I've sort of dropped off the blogging front for a while, mainly because there's not much to tell. I've been holed up reading and preparing notes for my first book chapter, which will likely be the easiest one. From there on out, there's a ton of research to do on areas I'm not that familiar with, which will be fun but also very challenging. I also hope to attend GDC in a few weeks, provided I can put all the pieces together.

I've been thinking alot about friends lately. I generally think of myself as a pretty independent person, so much so that I often overlook the immense importance of friends and family. Over the last two years, Sara and I have pretty much been our entire social sphere. We met some great people in San Diego and Denmark, but in SD I was often to busy to really get to know people, and in Denmark, well... let's just say the Danes can generally be stand-offish. Pleasant, polite, but distant. I appreciate the irony in this, as the very same adjectives have been used to describe me on more than one occasion by people I don't know well.

But I was reading Joygantic's post about surrounding himself with positive and interesting people, and I was again struck by how much more pleasant life is when you have a broad circle of people to share it with. We've had more social contact in the last month than we had in an entire year in Denmark, and it's been great to see the variety of ways in which this has made our lives infinitely more enjoyable. So I guess this is a late Valentine to the people who've made us feel so welcome to be in Seattle again.

London protests

2006-02-18T17:32:00.000-08:00

Joygantic has pictures from the protests in London concerning the Danish cartoons. This one is my favorite, though this comes a close second. For a country like Denmark that prides itself on its civility, framing this as a violation of manners is exactly the right response. I'll wait to hear his full report, but based on the pictures, I draw some comfort from the lack of burning flags, people throwing rocks at police, or other visible signs of violent protest.

Offensive cartoons

2006-02-16T21:39:00.000-08:00

The other night I attended a lecture on videogame localization that centered on the issues of balancing content against the potential to violate cultural sensitivities, either knowingly or otherwise. Predictably, the recent uproar over the Danish Mohammed cartoons figured centrally in the speaker's presentation. Ever since we got back from Denmark, people have been asking about this issue, and while I don't claim to have a monopoly of perspective on it, I do think that some crucial issues have tended to be left out of most responses to protest in the Arab world.

What bothers me most is how easily the original intent of the cartoons disappeared in the reaction by most Western pundits, who on both sides of the political divide have largely accepted this as an issue of freedom of speech and defended the cartoonists' right to express themselves. Jyllands-Posten, the original publisher of the cartoons, is the highest circulation newspaper in Denmark, but is specifically a regional newspaper that caters specifically to the peninsula of Jutland and in global terms really amounts to a small local newspaper. Traditionally, this area has been Denmark's agricultural center, balanced against the industrial urbanity of Copenhagen clustered on the far corner of the island of Sjaelland. Over the past few decades, in a manner that mirrors the Republican Party's take over of the rural Midwest and South in the United States, that region and class of people have shifted to the right and backed parties like the moderate conservative Venstre (the current Prime Minister's party) and more alarmingly, the extreme right, anti-immigrant Dansk Folkeparti (Danish People's Party). Jyllands-Posten has increasingly embraced a moderate to hard conservative take on immigration that to some degree reflects the rural class. However, most immigrants, particularly those relocating for economic and not political reasons, have concentrated in poor neighborhoods in Copenhagen and the larger cities. The immigrant population in the rural areas of Denmark remains relatively small and tends toward political refugee populations.

When Jyllands-Posten originally conceived of printing a series of cartoon depictions of Mohammed, it was in reaction to a Danish biographer's claim that he had difficulty getting Danish illustrators to depict the prophet because of fear of violating the Islamic ban on such depictions and angering the Muslim population. Jyllands-Posten's editor then commissioned the series, knowing full well that it would anger Muslims. Indeed, I would suggest that this was the original intent of the series: to flaunt a religious ban on such depictions and provoke a controversy by offending the Danish Muslim population. Only later did the editor frame this an issue of free speech. Knowingly provoking and offending a national ethnic population is foolish and just plain rude. Doing so and then hiding behind freedom of speech is cowardice. Jyllands-Posten knew full well what it was doing.

Indeed, in my opinion, this isn't even an issue of free speech. The original complaint among the Muslim community, as voiced by a council of Danish imams, centered on a desire for an apology, not censorship, as suggested by this quote from Imam Makkari, the leader of the delegation that brought this issue to the Middle East:

Meanwhile, Imam Akkari, who led the delegation that sought help from the Arab World in dealing with prejudices against Denmark's Muslim community, said it wasn't his intention to stymie the right of free speech to the country's journalists.

"Our intention was never to introduce censorship or to ban criticism of issues related to religion," Akkari emphasized. In recent years though, he points out, the Danish media focused an inordinate amount of attention on Muslim communities. "But now we are worried that the problem is escalating and that some people might get the wrong idea," he said. Akkari strongly condemned the bomb threat levelled against Jyllands-Posten and is quick to emphasize that he is dedicated to "the political path of discussion." (Spiegel Online)

Even at the point that a council of Arab ambassadors approached Ander Fogh Rasmussen, the prime minister of Denmark, they only asked him to distance himself from the cartoons, not to censor them. Only later, after Rasmussen initially refused to meet with the ambassadors by stating it was an issue of free speech and had nothing to do with him, did a contingent of imams from the Islamic Center in Denmark take the issue to newspapers and embassies in the Middle East, at which point censorship entered into the conversation, fueled by mass, violent demonstrations at which point the issue appeared on the global news radar. It warrants pointing out that this occurred two months after the initial publication of the cartoons, which first saw print in September, 2005. (Click here for a complete timeline of events.)

But even if the ambassadors and imams had tried to make this an issue of censorship from the beginning, it's still not an issue of free speech in my opinion, because they have no means of censorship over Jyllands-Posten. They can ask for an apology, boycott the paper, even seek political redress, all of which they did, but all of these measures are entirely within their rights, just as it was within the rights of the Jyllands-Posten to publish the cartoons in the first place. Refusing to read something you find offensive and calling on the newspaper for its retraction isn't censorship, it's an expression of political rights, just as is asking your government to distance itself from or condemn the actions. Even if Anders Fogh Rasmussen and the Danish government had complied with the ambassadors' request, had distanced themselves from or even apologized for actions not their own and condemned Jyllands-Posten for its actions, this still isn't censorship. It becomes a matter of censorship only at the moment when a governing body intervenes to exert control over the means of expression. Jyllands-Posten can continue to print whatever it likes regardless of the condemnations of the imams, the Danish government, or me for that matter.

The reality of this situation is that Denmark and the rest of Europe are facing an identity crisis of unparalleled proportions. The Muslims who came to these areas starting in the 60s as "guest workers," are generally among the poorest and least educated (in the Western sense) people in the world, arriving from regions and countries with no tradition of democracy and no experience of voicing their concerns outside of mass, often violent, protest. The challenge facing most European nations is how to educate these populations on the central ideologies of their culture in a way that remains convincing enough to seem a preferable way of life. Much of the battle is generational; the second and third generations of immigrant children, largely products of the European education system, are much less likely to embrace radical, anti-Western variants of Islam as a long-term life choice. So given this equation, what the Jyllands-Posten controversy amounts to is a leading national newspaper saying to an ethnic population in the midst of integration: "See how superior our ideology is! We have the right to single out and insult your culture and religion. Why can't you ingrates get on board with that?" How persuasive is that in the ongoing struggle to educate and integrate immigrant populations?

The answer, obviously, is not very, and my opinion is that Jyllands-Posten knew it. As seen in the reaction by a percentage of Danes, reflected in the same Spiegel article, many Europeans are ready for the whole issue to disappear via the large-scale deportation of Islamic populations. "If you don't like it here, leave," has become a popular reaction to any complaint by immigrants (and is part of the reason why I can't see myself living there for the rest of my life). Dansk Folkeparti, in the recent Copenhagen mayoral elections, released a policy statement which read in part that "Denmark has never been a multicultural society, and never will be," which for them is a relatively mild bit of political rhetoric. I'll leave the task of disproving this ludicrous though common claim for another day. But whatever the political hype, this is obviously not a realistic reaction. The global dispersement of populations, be they national, ethnic, religious, or otherwise, has only ever increased in the 20th and 21st century. Multiculturalism is more than the battle-cry of liberal eggheads. It's a simple matter of reality: you can't turn back the spread of people and their cultures in the modern age. The real issue is how to deal with these new populations. Containining them, stifling them, or offending them is not a realistic longterm strategy, as the recent riots among Muslim populations in Paris and elsewhere so clearly indicates.

I am not condoning the actions in the Middle East. Burning embassies, rioting, and making death threats are intolerable acts and should be condemned by the Western world via the established network of foreign relations. I'm not trying to champion or idealize "the poor, benighted souls of the Middle East" at all costs and despite their actions. Indeed, I think this whole crisis is further evidence of a willingness among certain Middle Eastern populations to seize on any reason to assail the West, regardless of reason or outcome, as evidenced by the burning of American flags and businesses despite our having nothing to do with the crisis. But the distinction that I think remains to be made by most Western commentators is between reactions by Muslims living in Europe and reactions by Muslims in the Middle East. Only after Jyllands-Posten refused to apologize and Anders Fogh Rasmussen washed his hands of the issue did the issue spread to the Middle East, fueled by the reprinting of the cartoons in other European newspapers. This is a classic example of escalation due to poor crisis management spurred by an unwillingness to embrace simple common courtesy and mutual respect when living in a multicultural society.

Just because Jyllands-Posten had the right to do what they did doesn't make it right, admirable, or excusable.

(Note, Feb. 18, '06: prompted by a e-mail exchange with a close friend and fellow scholar of Danish culture, I have made a few corrections to my original post regarding the specific chain of events from first publication. See this Wikipedia link for more information. I think it makes a clear case that a reasonable amount of forbearance was shown initially by the Danish Islamic community. This is a crisis that has unfolded over a long time, has many facets, and many failed opportunities on all sides to avert catastrophe. On a personal note, I lived exactly one block away from the headquarters of Islamic Center in Denmark.)

Arrived in Seattle

2006-02-07T11:26:00.000-08:00

I'm writing from an internet cafe, so this will be brief. We're still waiting for our cable connection to get hooked up, but hopefully I'll be back on the Web soon. In the meanwhile, just a note to say that we've arrived safely and are in the process of getting stabilized. It's been great seeing our friends and family, but we're also experiencing some reverse culture shock.

There are a lot of cars in the States! Where are all the bikes?

Leaving Copenhagen

2006-01-29T05:04:00.000-08:00

So I'll be pulling up stakes in Copenhagen and heading for Seattle in three days. This will likely be my last post for a while, as I'm going to break down the computer probably tomorrow afternoon. The fact that I'm leaving DK does leave me with a small problem of what to do with the blog. The original intent of this space was to give updates about our lives over here; I'm not sure my life in Seattle will be sufficiently different enough from anybody else's to merit documenting. On the other hand, it has been somewhat therapeutic to record my thoughts occasionally. So the question, to be or not to be? And if to be, to be "Live and Direct from Copenhagen" or "Live and Direct from Copenhagen: Seattle Edition" or simply "Live and Direct"? I'm leaning toward the last option, as it implies that my life is so interesting that it's always upfront and urgent. Either that, or it implies that I exist as a director (yes, dorky play on words there).

The last few days have been spent packing and getting ready. I'm almost done, with just a last few things to put into boxes and then the move on Monday. After that, it's a just a couple of dinners with friends and I'm on my way. The question of the moment from anybody who learns that I'm heading back to the States is whether I'll be coming back. I'll give the same politically motivated answer I've given them: "I currently have no concrete plans to stay in the US," which means exactly that: nobody so far as offered me a job that would keep me in the States, which isn't to say that it won't happen sometime in the next eleven months. At this answer, there's a common look of knowing, wistful resignation that comes into their eyes that suggests that, in my position, they wouldn't be likely to come back here. I've come to expect this from my American and UK friends, all of whom feel "stuck" here for various reasons usually related to spouses or professional miscues. But what is surprising is how many Danes also look at me with a sense that they couldn't imagine why I would come back, almost suggesting that they wouldn't either were it not for the fact that they are Danish and this feels like Home to them.

I have mixed feelings about Denmark right now. In my life, I have been intensely, overwhelmingly HAPPY here at times and I've also been the most miserable I've ever been in my life here. This year here has been an unequal mixture of both for me, though I suspect more of the latter for Sara. I've some to realize that in many ways, I'm indelibly American, even though it fills me with dismay given the current state of things. I feel a bit like I'll always be caught in between, able to see the drawbacks and difficulties of living abroad while also fed up and disgusted with many of the things that makes the US what it is. Likewise, there are things I love about Denmark, and things that drive me crazy. The question then becomes, which life is the closest to what I want? I think this year will be the process of deciding exactly that. Odd that I would be making this decision at the age of 35 instead of in my twenties, which would seem like a far more reasonable time to be deciding these things.

GTA

2006-01-18T04:43:00.000-08:00

Since Sara went back to Seattle, I've realized I drastically overestimated the amount of work left for me to take care of here in Denmark. The exam grading is going along smoothly, and aside from a few more papers, an oral defense, and a meeting with a student, I pretty much have no more teaching responsibilities. I've started boxing things up in the apartment, and since the actual move takes place on the 30th, I'm at the stage where everything left to box up is also stuff I need to live for a couple more weeks. Which leaves me with a fair amount of free time.

I've been living up to my true character by sitting on the couch playing _Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas_ for days at a time. It's not a pretty sight. I only bathe if I have to come to campus and I shaved for the first time in days this morning, again because I had to come to campus. It's a good thing I'm leaving soon, or I think I would become a serious shut in.

But on a bright note, in the game world, where I'm a fierce and quite debonair gangster, things are coming along swimmingly. I've taken over most of the immediate neighborhoods from my gang rivals after realizing I could take over a neighborhood by just walking down a street, provoking a gun battle, and then killing everything that comes running at me. I've started investing in real estate with my brutally gotten gains. My strength statistic is peaked out and my avatar looks really buff, which oddly makes me feel a lot better about sitting on the couch for twelve hours straight. Also, I've started a relationship with a new girl, Denise, and things seem to be going well. Granted, she tends to shoot randomly out the window when we go out together, but I think it's just a mark of a bad childhood. I'm sure my love can cure what ails her. We've gotten to the stage in our relationship where she's been inviting me in for "hot coffee" at the end of our dates.

I have to say, given the way the console version keeps the camera outside the house while a soundtrack of moaning, etc., plays, the whole thing seems a bit silly. I mean, if this were an R rated movie, the equivalent of a videogame M rating, we would at least follow the characters indoors and see them kiss (and probably a lot more) before the big fadeout. I'm not suggesting I actually want to play the Hot Coffee mini-game, which just seems tedious to me, but the weird doublestandard seems indicative of videogames' relative position in media culture.

Given this recent antisocial behavior, I may have to ask all of my Seattle friends to make a concerted effort to get me out of the house every once in a while once I start my book research, which will consist to a great degree of me sitting on the couch playing videogames and watching movies. Maybe I'll grow a beard.

Celebrity boxing

2006-01-12T16:31:00.000-08:00

Sara just called from the States, and it was great to hear her voice again. Her call woke me up in the middle of the weirdest dream, though. I can't remember all of it, but basically I was confronting a group of men who were sitting in some sort of a jury box. Evidently, they had been talking trash about me while I wasn't around, so I had arrived to call them out, to see if any of them had the sand to say it to my face.

Well, one of them did have the sand. It was Clint Eastwood. He got up out of his chair and came down to face me and we prepared to throwdown. I felt a little weird about fighting an old man, since this was Million Dollar Baby Eastwood, not Every Which Way But Loose Eastwood. On the other hand, I was pretty sure he was going to kick my ass anyway. When Sara's call woke me up, for a split second in the midst of waking up, I thought that must be him calling to schedule a bout.

As I don't regularly recall dreams, I'm kind of fascinated by this rich fantasy life that exists beneath the lid of my consciousness. I'm also a little concerned that subconsciously, I seem to devote a lot of time to thinking about celebrities.

All by myself...

2006-01-11T05:31:00.000-08:00

Sara left for Seattle this morning, and I already miss her like crazy. Fortunately, I'll be headed that direction myself on February 1. My exams and other obligations here will be wrapped up sooner than I had thought, and it looks like I'll be able to get us moved out of our apartment and find a home for our belongings more easily than I expected, mostly due to the help of our friend Martin.

It feels pretty weird to be at this stage again, perhaps because it feels so much like our move from San Diego to here that it's taking on a much greater sense of finality than in fact is true. The time of the year, the fact that we have to box up all our stuff, etc., make it feel like this is a permanent situation, when in fact it really is just a research sabbatical. Who knows what will happen after this year is up? In the meantime, I'm just looking forward to getting to work on the book and being in Seattle again.

Update

2006-01-06T22:33:00.000-08:00

I've been in exam-land for the past several days, administering and grading like crazy so I can get it out of the way. I just had a big stack of undergraduate written exams land on my desk which I hope to deal with this weekend (fingers crossed). Consequently, my posts might be a bit irregular through the next few days.

But there is good news. It looks like Sara and I have found a place to live in Seattle, at least until the end of June. We found a furnished house for sublet around Union and 26th, and Sara will move in on January 17th. Thanks again to all our friends that offered us a place to stay, but I think it will make for an easier transition to have our own space. Sara leaves on the 11th, which is pretty well freaking me out. We haven't been apart longer than about four days in over two years, and particularly since we came to Denmark, we've gotten used to spending a lot of time together. Sara is amazing, and I'm going to miss her like crazy. Maybe it's good that I have exams to distract me.

Post-Christmas

2005-12-28T23:54:00.000-08:00

Snowing in Copenhagen
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

I really meant for this post to be about life after the holiday, which by the way was fine. We went to Jylland and spent a traditional Danish holiday with Jonna and Steen and their family, ate goose, read a lot. It snowed, and is still snowing, as proven by this picture taken out my kitchen window five minutes ago.

But "post-Christmas" has me thinking: we've dealt with poststructuralism, postmodernism, posthumanism, why not post-Christmas? I know there's a semi-serious cultural battle being waged right now by the likes of Bill O'Reilly, etc., who argue that liberals are trying to eliminate Christmas. While I normally don't give two shits about what he thinks, on this occasion, I actually have to say that I am interested in eliminating Christmas. Nevermind how it's become a mockery of the very Christian spirit it claims to celebrate, blah, blah, blah. I don't like the holiday because it means you often have to spend time doing things you don't like to do (like sing Christmas carols) with people you don't know very well (like your extended family). This is the kind of situation I've spent a lot of my life trying to avoid.

So Sara and I took a moment last night to redesign an imaginary Christmas according to _my_ tastes. Between the free bar, open buffet of really good food, the hot tub, scads of attractive people half-dressed, and really loud music, my dream Christmas ended up somewhere between Vegas with snow and an orgy plus a tree and gifts. It seems likely that I won't be asked to plan the next company Christmas party.

But come on, doesn't an orgy plus a tree and gifts sound like a whole lot more fun?!

Three more weird things about Denmark

2005-12-20T13:03:00.000-08:00

Now that I know we're leaving relatively soon'ish (though perhaps coming back again in a year), I feel like I need to fit in all of my observations about Denmark post-haste. So here are three weird things about Denmark:

You can't buy a baseball bat in Denmark without a license establishing you as a member of a legitimate baseball team. This might make little sense until you realize there aren't very many people who play baseball in Denmark, and yet there were evidently a lot of bats being sold until they passed the law. Hmm, I wonder what people were doing with them... in a country where you can't buy guns... However, I know a guy who knows a guy who will sell you one under the counter. I've known about this outlaw baseball bat situation for a while, but I don't believe I've written about until now. I didn't want to draw suspicion.

Most banks will allows you to overdraft your checking account to an astonishing amount with no service charge or penalty. We recently found this out when we had to front some money for conference expenses, etc. We got a very pleasant letter from our bank saying that they'd like us to call and let them know when we expected to pay the balance back. But in the meantime, we were free to overcharge up to the equivalent of about $4000. After that, they'd start charging us interest: .12%. Hah! My US bank charges me $22 per whack, even if I overdraft by a nickel.

You have to pay a TV tax over here. The money goes to support the national TV service, same as the BBC in England. Even though I don't quite like the idea of paying a tax on my television after I've already bought it, I do like the commonsense approach to funding public television. Evidently, however, you can also simply refuse to let the TV guy in when he comes to check. If he can't see the TV, he can't charge you the tax.

Denmark is weird.

School's! Out! For! Ever!

2005-12-20T11:57:00.000-08:00

Or at least for a good long time. I taught my last class for over a year last week, and now I'm oh-ficially on research sabbatical. I have to wrap up administering and grading exams, which will be a bit of a chore since I have a large enrollment course on American literature. But compared to some of the grading I did as a TA, it's really not too bad. And then it's off to work on my book project. I can't wait.

Sara has already bought her ticket back to the States. She leaves January 11, and then I'll follow in early February after I finish exams, then packing up our belongings and putting them in storage. We're looking forward to going back to Seattle, though we're both a bit stressed at the thought undergoing another move (we're on the order of something like seven since January, 2003, if you include all the various stays at Sony's executive apartment, friend's houses, temporary rentals, etc.). I have fantasies of actually living in one place for more than a year and doing something crazy like getting a job where I can plan a future and buy a house. Going back to Seattle while I write a book is definitely part of that long term plan.

Mormon dinosaurs are out to get me

2005-12-14T01:29:00.000-08:00

So I'm on a bit of a roll as far as dreams go lately. I can go months without remembering a single dream, so the fact that I've remembered so many lately is worth documenting in itself. But last night I had a classic one, so goofy that it almost seems made up as a way to demonstrate how kooky my dream logic is. But this is strictly as I remember it.

I was being given a tour of a Mormon temple by a friend of a friend, sort of a "secret behind the scenes" look. Those of you who know the Mormon religion know that not just anybody can go into a Mormon temple beyond the reception area. You have to be a member in good standing and get a special recommend from your bishop. Anyway, I guess I pulled some strings, because they were showing us around the basement. But it wasn't what you'd expect. It was more like the basement of somebody's house, with concrete walls and those high half-windows you see in basements, plus it was full of dust and cobwebs and old shelving. Tucked away on one of the shelves was a pile of clothing, and when I looked closer, the labels said "Celebrity Garments." Garments, for those of you not familiar with Mormon faith, are the special underclothes that active members wear as a sign of their devotion as well as a form of spiritual protection. Imagine basically a loose t-shirt and very long boxer shorts made of a light, gauzy material. Anyway, garments are only received by devout members at certain specific temple ceremonies (at the time a person prepares for a mission, or if not then, usually in connection with the wedding ceremony).

In my dream, I got very upset, as I figured this was an indication that the religion was making exceptions for non-member celebrities, offering them garments and the ability to enter the temple simply because they were famous. My guide and I got into an argument, and I accused her and the church of engaging in some sort of "Scientology-bullshit" hypocrisy. I was belligerent and self-righteous (this much of the dream was true to life, I suspect). The upshot was that I got thrown out of the building.

As I was walking away, I realized that I was walking along the sidewalk in front of the house where I grew up in Grantsville, Utah. As I looked back at the house, I saw that the temple administrators had unleashed three small T-Rex style dinosaurs to hunt me down and kill me. I was looking for a place to hide when I woke up.

Up until the dinosaur part, the dream was very life-like.

The King is Dead

2005-12-14T01:11:00.000-08:00

Our beloved goldfish, Christian the 4th, King of Denmark, passed away last night (we called him "C4" or "Mr. Fish" for short. He was named after our favorite Danish monarch, who in addition to building most of the notable Renaissance buildings in the downton area, also had great taste in clothes, with a particular fondness for fancy silk pants. As a king, Christian was a bit of a disaster, having involved Denmark in a number of expensive and ultimately pointless wars with Sweden and Germany (the perennial favorites), which coupled with his enthusiastic urban spending program almost plunged the kingdom into bankruptcy. As a goldfish, C4 was a qualified success. He did all the things goldfish are supposed to do, including die unexpectedly, but he did manage to outlive his peer, Otto, who went belly up almost immediately.

We're still waiting on the coroner's report, but all evidence so far points to swim bladder malfunction. Incidentally, in reading up on this I also learned about performing surgery on fish. That should come in useful some day.

London

2005-12-08T23:22:00.000-08:00

We got back from London late Tuesday night, but this is the first time I've had more than a few minutes to sit down and write about it. With the semester winding up, I've been doing double-duty with teaching preparation and the like. Only one more week to go before sweet, sweet research leave.

Sara and I managed to do and see a lot while we were in London and Cambridge, mostly due to the generous hospitality of Chris and Steph, Justin and Anne, our respective hosts. Since I'm too lazy to write a detailed description-review of each thing we did while we're there, I'll resort to the dreaded summary point list:

London:
Thursday night -- arrived late, took an expensive cab ride to East London.
Friday -- Went to the British Museum, marveled at the many splendors of British Imperialism. Was nearly convinced imperialism is not such a bad thing if it means seeing the Rosetta Stone and the Parthenon statuary in the same place. Later that day went to meet Chris at his lab at King's College, London, and got to see the super-secret forensic specimen library. Started to feel faint after seeing the third pickled conjoined twin, then felt insufficient upon seeing a penis engorged to giant size from retained lymph. Sara had a great time. She's weird. Had a quick snack of beigals and hot salt beef (the London equivalent of bagels and corned beef, but oh so much better). Went out to amazing Tandoori and curry at Tayyabb's in the East End. Called it a night.
Saturday -- Touristy stuff. Went to see the London Eye, balked at the lines, and walked over to Parliament and Big Ben. Went into Westminster Abbey and saw the burial place of many British royalty (yawn) and well as Geoffrey Chaucer (yay!). Walked up to Trafalgar Square, shook my fist at Nelson because of his treatment of Copenhagen during the Napoleonic Wars, and went into the National Gallery, where we saw many wonderful works of art that blended into each other except for this and this. Met up with Chris and Steph at their place, had a nap and a bite to eat, and went to the Burning Man decompression party. Had a great time, met many cool people.
Sunday -- More touristy stuff. After a late start, went to Spitalfield Market and gawked at things we couldn't afford. Walked around central London and marveled at the city's architectural renaissance. Walked over to the Tower of London, crossed over London Bridge, went into the new Mayor's Office building, then met up with Steph. Chris made dinner.
Monday -- Went to Cambridge.

Cambridge:
Monday -- Met Justin and Anne. Walked around Cambridge and marveled at all the wonderful architecture and quaint student life. Had a few beers, promptly started to fall asleep. Called it an early night.
Tuesday -- More touring of campus. Punting along the Cam River. Learned that Cambridge comes from "bridge over the river Cam." Train back to Stansted and back to Copenhagen. Arrived late.

We had a wonderful time, and thanks again to our hosts, who empowered us in our quest to pack as much into one long weekend as possible. Pictures can be found here.

Celebrity dreams

2005-12-07T14:58:00.000-08:00

Sara and I are back from London, and I'll give an update on that tomorrow with pictures, but as a brief note on strange things, I've had two dreams about celebrities in the last two nights.

Two nights ago, I dreamt that I was at a dinner among friends and looked over to realize I was sitting next to Winonda Ryder. She was complaining about the downturn in her career after her highly public shoplifting trial. Over the course of dinner, I tried to convince her that I could turn her career around if she would make me the producer of her next film. I was particularly trying to convince her about all my connections to brilliant Scandinavian directors looking to make their Hollywood crossover that would be interested in working with her. I woke up rehearsing in my mind which directors seem to be currently between projects.

The second dream, which I will describe in less detail as this is a family-oriented blog, involved me having a sexual encounter with Annie Lennox behind stage at one of her concerts. It must have been a younger version of myself, as I was noticeably less pudgy around the middle.

It's weird that I would dream about those two celebrities in particular, as I haven't thought of them in quite some time, at least that I'm aware of.

It's the little differences

2005-11-29T09:43:00.000-08:00

I'm trying to renew my car registration via the mail. In the process of trying to get a check to the California DMV, I ran into something that still has me scratching my head:

The federal mail service does not offer express mail to the United States.

You can send express mail to the UK and the other EU countries, but I guess they figure nobody has business with the States that's urgent enough to require a special service. It ended up meaning that I had to pay a UPS courier to come and pick up three pieces of paper and a check, costing me about eight times what it would cost in the States.

It's in moments like these that I'm reminded of Vincent Vega's line from Pulp Fiction: "You know what the funniest thing about Europe is? It's the little differences. A lotta the same shit we got here, they got there, but there they're a little different." Like not being able to send express mail to the United States. I mean, Denmark is willing to ally with us for a war based on lies, but we can just forget about getting our mail in an express manner. That would be too much to ask. On the other hand, you can buy beer in a movie theatre. And I don't mean in a paper cup either. They give you a glass of beer. (Thanks again, Vince).

Going to London

2005-11-28T21:56:00.000-08:00

We found some super cheap tickets through Ryanair (1 Swedish krone, plus processing fees), so we're going over to London this weekend to stay with my friend, Chris. Chris and I were in college together while I was in Georgia attending classes at UG, Athens back in 1992. We've kept in touch intermittently, but we haven't actually seen each other in at least ten years. So it will be fun to catch up with him and meet his partner, Stephanie.

We'll be attending the Burning Man decompression party in London. It's just a happy coincidence that it's the same weekend, but still, should be good. Hopefully, we'll get a chance to see our crazy friend Lisa as well.

We'll also be going up to Oxford to see one of my colleagues who is on a research sabbatical there. Since I'm a fancy pants professor now, I can attend High Table, which is an age old tradition where faculty members get together, eat a formal dinner, and act stuffy. Since I so rarely get to act like a stuffy professor, I'm really looking forward to it. Unfortunately, I'll have to get by with jacket and tie, as my doctoral robes are at the cleaners. Well actually, they're still at the doctoral robes store, since I have never bothered to purchase them. But had I known I would get a chance wear them at Oxford, I might have sprung for the expense.

Catching up

2005-11-26T22:27:00.000-08:00

I'm starting to think that blog time is like reverse dog years or something, because to me it doesn't seem that long ago that I posted and yet here it is almost three weeks later. I don't want this blog to turn into one of those things that feels like a chore or an obligation, but to be honest, not that much is going on over here that's worth talking about. It snowed for the first time of the season a couple of days ago. I'm in the midst of preparing exam questions. We had a lovely Thanksgiving at Dan and Mette's. Mette spent a year in Battle Creek, MI, back in high school, so she's started celebrating the holiday in lieu of the more traditional Christmas parties they give here starting mid-November.

Some people have been wondering what Sara and I have planned for next year during my research sabbatical, so here's the skinny: we're moving back to Seattle for a few months so I can do book research and attend some conferences (SCMS,GDC). Sara will go back in January to look for work and a temporary furnished apartment (if any of you think you might have leads, let us know), and then I will come in February after having tied up loose ends here. We were wondering what to do with our apartment here, but as it turns out, our landlord is terminating our lease in February anyway for reasons related to his finances. This is a good thing in that it is one less thing for us to worry about, but it is a bad thing in that it means we'll have to find a new place when we get back to DK in September/October. You might recall how much fun we had with that the first time around.

We're also going to be picking up my car. Or rather, my Mom will be driving it up from Utah after using for a few months upon returning from Morocco. Things have had a funny way of coming full circle since we moved to Denmark. The car has been sitting in Geoff's driveway for longer than I can admit without cringing, and I was wondering whether I ever might figure out what to do with it. But now that we're coming back to the States over a full year later, it's suddenly convenient that we held onto the car this long. I miss my car.

There are other things afoot, both private and professional, that are better left undiscussed in a semi-public space like this, but it's safe to say that the coming months will be full of opportunities and decisions for Sara and me. It's a little daunting to have so much potential uncertainty in our lives, but we've been handling it so far, so hopefully it will all turn out okay.

Missed it this year...so

2005-11-08T11:11:00.000-08:00

DSC00108
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

here is a photo from last Halloween.

One of those moments...

2005-11-07T22:34:00.000-08:00

...when I really do hate to say I told you so. I still think that Grokster was engaging in a form of sophisticated double-speak by arguing, after intentionally engineering a Napster-shaped blindspot in their service, that they couldn't anticipate what people were going to do in that blindspot. Apparently, the Supreme Court was of the same opinion, which I hardly find comforting given its current ideological make-up.

However, I generally hate to see the mainstream media industry win anything, since I think "they," meaning the ten multinational conglomerates that own and run everything from your local radio station and newspapers to the largest movie studios and cable networks, generally stifle creativity and innovation by eliminating alternate market venues. It's worth noting that the decision won't actually effect anybody already using the Grokster software to share files, so that's something, I suppose.

The Rain on Danes Stays Mainly as a Pain

2005-11-01T08:43:00.000-08:00

It's Autumn over here, which weather-wise means beautiful, brisk clear days with smoke on the air increasingly giving way to gloomy, wet dark days that make you understand why the Vikings were willing to risk their lives trying to conquer and settle somewhere, anywhere, for gods' sakes just not here. With daylight savings having reverted, the sun goes down at about 5pm. It feels like late afternoon by 1pm. It can be a bit much to deal with, and I take back any comparisons I ever made between Seattle and Copenhagen as far as rain and general murkiness goes. Seattle? Rain? Bah, I say, bah! The ever-ready claim that "it only drizzles, you can still go out in it" that I repeated like a mantra while in Seattle can hardly be said with a straight face over here.

But it's great weather to go to the movies in, or drink Irish coffees, or snuggle with my sweetie, so I'm going to focus on the positive. Also, I have only six more weeks left in the semester and then I don't teach again for one whole year. ONE. WHOLE. YEAR! Can I get an amen? Can I get an amen!

On other positive fronts, all you videogame heads (Mark F., I'm looking at you) should immediately go check out The Game Guy Show. It's a podcast co-hosted by my good friend Mars, who knows a thing or two about videogames. The production value is very high, the format very accessible. Evening listening to it as an MP3, I kept thinking I was listening to a live broadcast on KEXP. Way to go, Mars!

Chowder, oil, and group think

2005-10-24T11:56:00.000-07:00

So far, the polling on Manhattan vs. New England clam chowder is skewing heavily in the direction of New England. The only identifiable trend in the stats is that Americans living in Denmark prefer Manhattan style, which means either that moving here has an effect on your tastebuds, which is very possible, or that I need more data. Either way, the polls are still open.

And on a different note and in connection with my obsession with peak oil and the impending collapes of the American economy, my friend Erik, who has worked in and around the oil industry for many years, forwarded these links. I haven't had time to investigate them all extensively, but suffice it to say that what I've read so far paints a somber picture.

http://www.financialsense.com/stormwatch/2005/1014.html

http://www.321energy.com/

http://www.financialsense.com/stormwatch/oldupdates/main.htm

http://www.prudentbear.com/
http://www.publicdebt.treas.gov/opd/opdpenny.htm

And just so I can feel like this is somebody else's fault, here's an interesting link to excerpts from an article from The New Yorker discussing the substantial ways in which Brent Scowcroft disagrees with George W. Bush. For those of us like myself with short memories it helps to be reminded that Scowcroft was Bush Sr.'s most important advisor on foreign affairs, particularly related to the Middle East. He was against an invasion and occupation of Iraq during the first Gulf War and was against it during the second. Obviously, one Bush listened and another didn't. And lest you think that this is an instance of an obsolete elder statesman attempting to butt in where he isn't wanted, pay particular attention to this excerpt:

"Scowcroft's colleagues told me that he would have preferred to deliver his analysis privately to the White House. But Scowcroft, the apotheosis of a Washington insider, was by then definitively on the outside, and there was no one in the White House who would listen to him. On the face of it, this is remarkable: Scowcroft's best friend's son is the President; his friend Dick Cheney is the Vice-President; Condoleezza Rice, who was the national-security adviser, and is now the Secretary of State, was once a Scowcroft protege; and the current national-security adviser, Stephen Hadley, is another protege and a former principal at the Scowcroft Group."

If Brent Scowcroft, friend of Bush Sr., friend of Cheney, and mentor of Rice and Hadley can't get the message across, who can?

When I was doing my undergrad degree in psychology, I took a class on social psychology. Among other things, we studied the phenomenon of group think, the tendency of pressurized groups to close ranks around the dominant idea as backed by the most powerful figure and discourage lateral or divergent thoughts. The classic case study is the Bay of Pigs fiasco. It's beyond sad to think that measures haven't been taken to prevent history from repeating itself, but it seems more and more demonstrable that our country is being run by a cadre incapable of listening to any idea that doesn't affirm its current worldview. I can think of few things worse to say about a President.

Back in the Big DK

2005-10-18T00:22:00.000-07:00

So I'm back from my brief visit to the States. I've had my first decent night of sleep in a few days, since jetlag was a lot harder to deal with than usual while there. On the whole, I was pleased with the conference and I'm happy to be back. I got a chance to meet a number of people I had been looking forward to meeting, the paper wasn't laughed out of the building and I learned a few tricks for the next time I present at a game dev conference, and I learned a lot about the state of game development and game research. On the whole, a worthy use of my department's money.

Whenever I've been in Denmark for a while and then return to the States, I'm always struck by a few things. In no particular order, this is what struck me this time:

1) How cheap everything is. I got a decent haircut for $11 from a nice, motherly woman who gave me advice about whether to move to Lansing, MI, or not. Not, I think. I also stocked up on Taco Bell brand refried beans and Progresso clam chowder, Manhattan and New England, measuring cups, and a potato masher for under $30. Speaking of clam chowder, can I get an informal poll of what kind people prefer? I'm thinking there might be a demonstrable personality metric in there.

2) How spread out everything is. Lansing and East Lansing have a combined population of about 400,000. But in terms of sheer size, it seemed about the size of greater Copenhagen, which is over three times as populous. Accordingly, there are no pedestrians on the streets, as you can't really walk anywhere worth getting to.

3) College towns are funny. I forgot to bring my passport out one night, and got carded and denied by kids that seemed half my age. Standing between me and my drink is a dangerous thing to do, but it's a particularly dangerous thing to do when I have bunions older than you.

Upon returning to Denmark, the first thing I noticed, almost immediately, is that everywhere and everything smells like cigarette smoke. Even the non-smoking airport. We really need to do something about that.

Off to Lansing

2005-10-11T21:20:00.000-07:00

So I leave for Lansing, MI, in a few hours so I can attend this conference. It should be a good conference for me, as a number of people I would like to talk to are attending; people who's work I've been quoting for the past few months. I am also unusually nervous about delivering my paper. I've done enough of them that normally it doesn't phase me too much, but this is the first that I've delivered at a game developers conference. It's a new field for me, and unlike an academic conference, I can't defend any old BS that I make up as simply my opinion. They tend to expect tangible results at game dev conferences. It doesn't help that my paper is the first of the conference. Ah well, nothing to do now but sling it out there and cross my fingers.

It will also be the first time Sara and I have been apart for any significant amount of time since we left San Diego. One thing about living in a foreign country: it can feel an awful lot like living on an island most of the time. Granted, we do our shopping, interact with the locals occasionally, watch the news... But it all has a sense of being one step removed, as though we had to arrive by boat from our tiny island of Americanness to do our shopping on the mainland of Danish. It will be strange to be back amongst my fellow Americans 24-7.

It occurs to me that this post is pretty much a more elaborate version of one I posted a couple of days ago. So in the interest of variety, here's a website Sara found about cat deformities.

Apartment Life

2005-10-08T20:03:00.000-07:00

It's 5:00 in the morning. Why am I awake at this unreasonable hour? Combination of factors, really: thin walls and obnoxious neighbors. We share a wall with a young family, and almost nightly for the past nine months, their three year old has woken up in the middle of the night screaming like bloody murder. I'm not talking about a few cries for a glass of water, though that happens, too. I'm talking about full out, top of the lungs, "I'm being dipped in flaming boiling acid" shrieks. And it goes on for what seems like forever. At first, we thought he was being abused and we were having a full on Susan Vega-Natalie Merchant moment over it. Now we just think he's a nutcase, because it comes fully out of nowhere every night, usually starting with a chorus of "Mo-arrr," which is little kid Danish for "mommy," so either his mom is sneaking up on him in the middle of the night or he's not being abused. At least, not until I get my hands on the little shit.

But tonight I was woken up by the people upstairs, who as middle of the night entertainment are less consistent but certainly more inventive. I think I've mentioned them before, though I've really only seen the male part of the couple, a weedy, shifty looking alcoholic. They like to come home in the middle of the night and play really awful big hat country music at a volume pitched just right to vault us out of sleep. I sleep lightly and wake up early anyway, so if I get woken up at 4:30, that's pretty much it for me. I won't be going back to sleep. Fortunately this time, I was able to catch them before they passed out, and my broom against the ceiling action convinced them to turn it down. This is actually an improvement from them over the last months; up until a few weeks ago, they had some sort of parrot that they kept right above our bedroom. The parrot liked to salute the rising of the sun with a medley of tunes that were so eerily human-like that I kept thinking I'd finally lost it. But we haven't heard from the bird in a while, knock on wood.

It's moments like these that I really start to envy my friends who have their own houses. Yes, you still have to put up with crazy neighbor stuff, but usually they can't wake you up in the middle of the night with the "best" of Barbara Mandrell.

Back in the blogosphere

2005-10-03T22:19:00.000-07:00

So I kind of dropped off the face of the internet for a while... I've been busy dealing with the start of classes, which has been particularly challenging as I am teaching an intro course on American literature. The course has taught me many things:

1) Walt Whitman is boring. There, I said it. 80+ pages of free verse isn't poetry, it's masturbation.
2) America has been weird about race longer than we can possibly understand. I think Columbus brought it with him, like small pox.
3) Herman Melville is a bad ass.
4) I'm not qualified to be teaching an American literature course that covers anything before 1910.
5) I'm not interested in teaching an American literature course that covers anything before 1910.
6) I may not have a choice.

It's been weird teaching literature courses again. Even before leaving academia for Sony, I was teaching mostly film and cultural studies, which is really what interests me. But I agreed to teach this course, and while I'm enjoying it and learning a lot, I also realize it isn't something I want to make a career out of. I'm just really out of touch with the field.

Otherwise, I've been busy preparing a presentation for this conference in Lansing, MI, which takes place next week. It should be interesting. I'm presenting the first of my research that will eventually result in a book, and it's a completely new way of working for me. Much more empirical and pragmatically-oriented. I'm also the first paper of the conference, which adds a little pressure. The original paper that I'm delivering is about 30 pages long, so the challenge has been to cut it down to about 12 pages to fit under 30 minutes. I'm also doing my first PowerPoint slideshow. Normally, I'm pretty skeptical about PowerPoint presentations, as I've sat through enough of them that don't really go anywhere, but do it with a lot of style, to realize it's usually a crutch. But in this case, I need to present a lot of additional information that I can't really talk through, so hopefully it will work as a visual complement.

It's going to be strange to be back in the US. I'll let you all know how it goes.

Katrina: The Gathering

2005-09-15T05:17:00.000-07:00

Check out this most excellent new collectible card game.

Probably checking out...

2005-09-08T07:14:00.000-07:00

...for a few days. Classes have started up again, and I'm teaching material I'm not as familiar with as I'd like to be, plus I have a major research paper due in about 10 days, plus I have three theses to read and grade. So if you don't hear from me for a little while, don't send the National Guard.

Help New Orleans

2005-09-02T10:49:00.000-07:00

Like many of my friends, New Orleans has a special place in my life. I've been there on three different occasions and had an incredible, unbelievable amount of fun in a different way every time. I didn't really take Hurricane Katrina seriously, because I'm in Europe and somewhat out of the loop, plus I just couldn't imagine that anything too terrible could happen to one of my favorite places on earth. I was wrong. Tin Foil Hat makes a good case for why this tragedy is inexcusable, beyond all partisan politics.

In the meantime, if you haven't already, please donate to the Red Cross. Somebody has to do the job our government has bungled.

View of Ry

2005-08-25T04:56:00.000-07:00

View of Ry
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

On a much lighter note, my mom was in town for a couple of weeks, and we got a chance to do and see a lot that we'd be meaning to get around to but hadn't. It was especially good for Sara, since she got a chance to see more of Denmark than the mean streets of Copenhagen. One highlight was a trip to the main peninsula, Jutland, to visit my friends Steen and Jonna. They are the parents in the family that I lived with as an exchange student back in '87. The town where they live, Ry, is in the middle of probably the most beautiful part of Denmark. They took us out for dinner, and the next day we went to a living history museum of traditional Danish town life. It was great. Click on the picture to see all the pics.

Not exactly the reassurance I was looking for

2005-08-25T04:19:00.000-07:00

The Gentleman Marks both sent me additional links on the peak oil issue. However, what I was really hoping for was a reassuring note from a credible source pointing out how I and my likewise concerned peers have overlooked "Obvious Counterargument X." Instead, both links suggest that I'm not entirely off my rocker about this.

I also recently read that there has been a slight, anecdotal rise of violent crime and theft around gas stations in apparent correlation with rising gas prices, up to over $3.00 in some place in California, I'm told. To paraphrase Tin Foil Hat, Americans seem to think we have a constitutional right to cheap gas. It's in there somewhere, isn't it? Maybe it's in the Bill of Rights, somewhere around the part about guns.

Of course, most of the rest of the world has been paying these gas prices for decades. According to CNN/Money, gas prices in Denmark are around $5.93 per gallon. Yikes! I would imagine those kinds of prices might make even Arnie rethink his Hummer. Of course, the point is not the price of gas, but how expensive gas is likely to effect an economy that has come to rely upon getting it cheaply, like the US has since the 70s.

In all of this, George Miller is suddenly starting to look a lot more prophetic than kooky. Of course, as a kid, I longed for a Road Warrior future, since I figured I'd be pretty good with a crossbow. However, age and a career that involves sitting on my ass all day has convinced me that I'm a lot more likely to end up like the nerdy guy and his girlfriend who get assaulted by bikers than I am to be Lord Humongous.

Peak Oil

2005-08-17T13:38:00.000-07:00

May2005_.jpg
Originally uploaded by joygantic.

Joygantic blogged this picture recently, and while I get the joke, in truth, I'm pretty worried about peak oil. Normally, I'm skeptical about these kinds of doomsday scenarios: I don't believe in the Rapture, I didn't stockpile water and Cheerios before Y2K, and I have calmly ignored Nostradamus. But when people like this start to argue that we're headed for trouble, well, I get nervous.

I remember having a conversation with my Dad, who worked in and amongst the petroleum industry his entire career, in which he calmly discussed the fact that the petrochemical industry was not a good place to be starting a career because the oil reserves were on the decline. And this was in the early 90s. AKA, "BH" or "Before Hummer."

Sara and I were talking not too long ago, wondering which issues our children will think we were idiots for not anticipating. Is peak oil the big one? Tell me what you think. I'm considering never moving back to the US unless y'all start building railroads.

And while we're on the topic of games

2005-08-06T21:32:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Mark D. for this link from The Economist on the recent furor over Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. In case you haven't been following along, the GTA series is one of the most successful game franchises in industry history, specializing in the crime/action genre of gaming. Technically, one of its major breakthroughs was the development of a free-roaming universe in which the player can wander around and engage the environment, chosing to follow missions and advance the game narrative at their will. Content-wise, the game took things a step further in the way of "mature content," as players are able to solicit prostitutes, buy and sell drugs, and as per the title, jack cars and go on high-speed chases. In GTA:SA, you play Carl Johnson, a young, black man who returns to his neighborhood in a fictionalized south-central LA. You guide him through missions as he builds up his drug business, eliminates rivals, pulls of a stunning variety of crimes, and becomes a major drug crimelord.

Recently, with the release of the PC-version of the game, some enterprising hackers found a way to unlock hidden mini-games that included a clothed simulation of sex between CJ and a prostitute. To be clear, these mini-games were not intended to be found, and are different from "easter eggs," which are included with the full intention of being found by gamers using secret codes, etc. The hack, labeled "Hot Coffee," requires the user to break into the game in the same way that you would hack into a secure website. The mini-games, to my understanding, were left in the code but "turned off," meaning that there were no ways to access the code through regular game-play. "Turned off" code happens a lot more than people outside the industry realize. The code behind any game is often like a very messy stack of cards, a stack in which certain cards are glued together in unpredictable ways. Trying to take out one section of code can have unpredictable results in the game, leading to bugs that are difficult to find during playtesting and often expensive and nervewracking to fix when you do (often at the last minute possible). Sara can tell you stories of me disappearing for days during playtesting because of minor changes to the game resulting in radically unpredictable bugs.

So rather than removing the code, they hid it in a way that nobody should have been able to access it. Of course, somebody found it, released the hack, and provided various politicians and other politically-motivated parties their opportunity to make an easy gesture. Most notable was Hillary Clinton, who has asked for increased regulation and fines for videogames.

The thing that bugs me about all of this is that there are already significant, self-imposed regulations of the game industry in place, ones that mirror those found in the film and music industries. The game was already rated M for Mature because of its suggestive and violent content, similar to an R rating for films, and couldn't be purchased without an adult. The uproar has led RockStar games to change the rating to Adults Only, practically a first in the industry. They're also facing some class-action suits, have seen their game banned in Australia, removed from the shelves of most major videogame outlets, and have been forced to re-release a version of the game without the hidden content. All of this costs time and money, which granted, RockStar has plenty. Who knows, all of this may be a media manipulation on RockStar's part. They've not shied away from courting controversy to date.

But to make clear, the hidden mini-games, of which only the population that has purchased the game in PC version (the hack doesn't work on consoles that I'm aware of) and which can only be accessed by downloading an illegal hack, don't even show the characters naked. They're fully clothed! As far as sexual content, if this were a film, it would merit a PG-13 rating at most. However, Clinton, et al, seem to be arguing that videogames as a medium have some greater level of influence over their audiences and therefore merit harsher regulation.

The Economist essay does a good job of pointing out the inconclusive results of any study of game influence on player behavior, as well as hypocrisy of leveling disproportional critique at one medium that is already policing itself. It also points out the obvious fact that this kind of politically opportunistic "controversy" has accompanied every major creative medium since the origins of drama and poetry in Aristotle's day. It's close to an eternal truth that parents won't understand what they didn't grow up with. But what I think is most important in the essay is its inclusion of the fact that most game players, 43%, fall between the ages of 18 and and 49. Up until this point, I still had some lingering respect for Hillary Clinton, but my sense is that she and her political cohorts on this issue still can't imagine that adults exist who play these games and are also able to understand the inherent double-standard being imposed on the videogame industry. Clinton is making what she seems to see as an easy play for the middle here. Unfortunately for Hillary, 18 is also the age at which people get the vote. I'm crossing my fingers that this comes back to haunt her.

Dungeons & Dragons Will Steal Your Soul

2005-08-06T09:35:00.000-07:00

I was poking around on Metafilter and came across this link to a Jack Chick booklet about Dungeons & Dragons from back in the day. It brought back a flood of memories from growing up weird in rural Utah. I got introduced to D&D by a friend when I was about twelve, and I pretty much lost myself to it until I was about seventeen. I still played regularly into my early twenties, left all that aside, and then ended up playing role-playing games again in Seattle with a group of graduate students, artists, and other misfits. The ageing hipster in me wants to pretend it all never happened, but the complete dork-o-tron in me still misses it.

In particular, it reminded me of a story from when I was about thirteen. A traveling Mormon speaker came to Grantsville to speak about the evils of popular culture. And I mean, evils. His claim to fame was that he had supposedly written the theme song for The Flintstones, but was bilked of his millions by unsavory Hollywood types. This experience led him to question the entertainment industry, and his investigations had revealed to him that popular culture was inspired by the Devil. In addition to the typical backmasking conspiracies, hidden messages in names like KISS, WASP, Styx, etc., he also had a long rant about how Dungeons & Dragons would lead kids to dabble in the occult and eventually suicide pacts with the dark side, which was a common fear in the 80s. Imagine that you've spent your entire life having adults tell you that evil is real, that it is palpable, and that it is after you. Then they pull the rug out by telling you that your favorite hobby is just one big Slippery Slide to Hell.

It pretty much freaked my shit right out.

In a one-on-one question and answer session afterward, I asked him if this was true of all role-playing games or just Dungeons & Dragons. He put his hand on my shoulder and said,

"I think you already know in your heart what is true."

As an adult, I know this to be the kind of bullshit answer you give kids when you have no idea what they're talking about, but at the time, it was a heavy burden on my conscience. So I bought two of his lecture cassette tapes and listened to them at home. They didn't say much more about role-playing games than what he's said in his sermon. But there was one that dealt in depth with the terrors of popular music. On the tape, he included a snippet of the Sex Pistol's "Anarchy in the UK" and deciphered the lyrics.

Even at thirteen, I couldn't really see the connection between anarchy in the UK and the Devil in Grantsville. But the music sounded...

REALLY. FUCKING. COOL.

I went out and bought a copy the next time I got to a decent record store. I listened to it over and over. In the coming years, I got more and more into punk music, bought albums by the Dead Kennedys, FEAR, Black Flag, and everything else I could get my hands on. I never once worshiped the Devil, though I did throw the horns at an Iron Maiden concert once. Mostly, I learned to question petty authority and mock cardboard prophets.

So in a way, Dungeons & Dragons led me to become a smartass and an iconoclast, which is, I'm sure, not what the preacher had in mind. I can't remember the guys name, but I wish I still had the tapes. They'd make great samples.

My Favorite TV Chef

2005-08-05T22:08:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure if most of you who read this blog are able to get BBC Food, but it's become my favorite channel. We only get it in the mornings here, after which it switches over to a Danish channel, but most days I'm glued to the TV until noon, watching various cooking shows. This shows you how demanding my current schedule is.

At any rate, I've done a full reversal on Ainsley Harriott. I used to think he was an idiot when he was doing this show, which required him to act like a very loud, very drunk queen without the benefit of actually being gay. But I really think he's found his forum with Ready Steady Cook. The premise of the show is that two celebrity chefs come on, each is teamed up with a non-chef guest of varying level of skill, and are challenged to complete a meal based on ingredients brought by the guest, usually purchased for under ten pounds British. Oh, and they have twenty minutes to do it. The audience then votes on which meal looks seems most delicious.

Techniques tend toward stovetop preparations, broiling, steaming, and other time-saving tricks, so you tend to see a lot of soups, deep fries, curries, etc., as well as quick breads and other straightforward dishes with few preparation steps. But that's kind of the cool thing about the show; there's a new twist on every show, and you see some unexpected ingredients (at least for my American palate) like duck breast, various kinds of fish like plaice and monkfish, pheasant, venison, and rabbit. But once you've gotten the basic techniques down, you can usually replicate most of the dishes with a quick trip to the store, given an occasional substitution. Of course every once in a while, a chef will throw a curveball like quick souffles and the like, but after having seen a few of those come off okay in under twenty minutes, I'm tempted to try my hand at one.

Burning Man

2005-08-04T04:04:00.000-07:00

Usually at this time of the year, Sara and I would be preparing for Burning Man. Between settling into to a new job, a new country, and a new financial situation, it just isn't possible for us to go this year. I expected to miss my annual ritual more than I actually am; I've gone every year since 1999, and it's played a major role in my life. At Burning Man in past years, I've celebrated the end of a nasty divorce, the beginning of new relationships and friendships, and the uncertainties of being single. I've seen my best friends get engaged, met the friends and significant others of people I've known for years, and best of all, last year Sara and I got engaged ourselves as the Man burned in the background. I've done and seen things I don't expect to do or see anywhere else in my life, and had a few adventures that just don't make sense anywhere else but the playa, so much so that until now, I've never tried to write about Burning Man or why it's important to me. All in all, Burning Man has been good to me. I truly think it has made me a better person.

So I'm surprised that I'm not more upset to be missing it this year. Part of my feelings might be tempered by the knowledge that most of my playa posse won't be returning this year either. Last year was a good one, hard to beat, and generally, my friends and I are reaching the age where other kinds of adventures, like houses and investments, foreign travel, or financial security seem equally attractive.

But I think Mark put it best when he suggests that the event is really about people, the ones you don't get to see otherwise during the year and the ones you see regularly but don't always get the time to say the things you really want to say. And this much I know: come Burn night, we'll all be thinking of each other, whereever we are.

Well, I suppose it was inevitable.

2005-07-20T23:35:00.000-07:00

I'd been hearing some rumors about another big shake-up at my previous studio, so it wasn't a complete surprise when I read this in today's videogame news. There are apparently some other developments that came along with this that aren't reported, but since I only have third-hand confirmation, I won't comment on them.

I have mixed feelings about this. There was a time when I was wholely committed to getting that game made, despite the obstacles. After all that happened while I was there, it's still disappointing to see that nothing will come out of my work. And it really sucks for the guys who stuck around and tried to make something work. They end up paying the cost of mistakes that weren't theirs.

Denmark's Newest Work-able Foreigner

2005-07-14T12:19:00.000-07:00

Denmark's Newest Work-able Foreigner
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

Sara's residence/work permit arrived today. It's a little later than we'd been led to expect, but we're not looking that gift horse in mouth. We had hope it would come in while Bush was in town, or maybe on the 4th of July, just for the synchronicity of things.
Now that she has her work permit, she can get job-search assistance from the labor office, take free language courses, sign up for health care, apply for enrollment at university, and any number of other free services offered by the state. I suppose, when you think all the services the state provides, it's understandable that they're not real hip on sharing lately. Still, good news for us.

Poul Pava

2005-07-07T14:08:00.000-07:00

poulpavapostcard
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

Go check out the website for our new favorite artist, Poul Pava. He's Danish, we just discovered him, and we already have three of his postcard prints framed on our wall.

Pizza in the park

2005-07-07T02:57:00.000-07:00

DSC00475
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

This is the view from where we ate pizza. One of the great things about Copenhagen is the string of lakes that lie in a band through downtown. During the summer, they're filled with joggers, families, and picnickers.

The Tuborg Revolution

2005-07-06T12:22:00.000-07:00

DSC00474
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

We spent the afternoon at the anti-Bush rally in Copenhagen, which was held outside the American Embassy. I don't know exactly what I was expecting, but I was a little anxious about the idea of protesting outside the US Embassy in a foreign country. Backlash of footage from my childhood of angry mobs burning American flags in Middle Eastern countries, most likely. At any rate, nothing to worry about. The protest was very Danish. Which means that everybody brought their bicycles and a case of Tuborg. Toward the back, people were actually having picnics. We stayed for about an hour, then went for a pizza and ate it by the lake.

I'm of two minds about protests. On the one hand, I doubt that Bush will change his mind, lose any sleep, or even think about this protest for a nanosecond. This is all the more likely given that the major protest began a full half-hour after he left the country. Way to go, organizers! On the other hand, I suppose this is a useful way to let other people know that resistance continues to grow. What they do with that information, of course, is completely uncontrollable. One good point I saw in all of this was the awareness that while what Danes think about Bush doesn't amount to a hill of beans as far as the Bush administration is concerned, there was a clear link between his presence and Anders Fogh Rasmussen's support of his policies. As one speaker put it, you can't vote in the US, but you can vote in Denmark. It will be interesting to see whether this visit will help or hurt Rasmussen.

Top Ten

2005-07-05T05:31:00.000-07:00

Top Ten Things I Miss from the States
10. Refried Beans
9. Good bottled spaghetti sauce
8. Amoeba Music in Los Angeles
7. My car (which is still for sale if you're interested)
6. Trader Joes
5. Cheap beer at cool indie rock clubs and/or dive bars
4. Feeling like a game development bigshot
3. Feeling like I know what the hell is going on or that things generally make sense
2. Affordable sushi
1. Our friends and family

Top Ten Things I Don't Miss from the States
10. Texas
9. Boring architecture
8. American anti-intellectualism
7. Insert snotty Euro-arrogant superiority comment here
6. Working a 50-60 hour work week
5. The American healthcare system
4. Having to drive to get anywhere
3. Traffic and commuting
2. The American neoconservative political machine
1. President Bush

Top Ten Things Gained by Moving to Denmark
10. The smugness of being an American expatriate
9. The reality check of transitioning from making million-dollar development decisions to being required to limit my photocopying expenses (See Top 10 things missed, #4)
8. The opportunity to practice my Danish language skills
7. My own office
6. Absurdist Danish subtitles on American sitcoms
5. No set schedule
4. Danish pastries and good, fresh bread
3. Bike paths and bicycle commutes
2. Research sabbaticals
1. More time with Sara

This is just to say (with apologies to William Carlos Williams)

2005-07-02T06:08:00.000-07:00

DSC00461
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

I have eaten
the cookies
that were in
the cupboard

and which
you were probably
saving
for yourself.

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so buttery.

Huh-boy

2005-06-30T11:12:00.000-07:00

President Bush is coming to Denmark next week. One of the reasons we came over here in the first place is so that we wouldn't have to see this retarded monkey-fuck on a regular basis, and yet here he is, messing things up for us. I'm sure that his visit here will start a whole new round of "Why is the US so screwed up and aren't you somehow responsible for it?" among our Danish friends.

In case you haven't been following the scorecard, Denmark is one of the "Coalition of the Willing." As a catchphrase, it really doesn't have the same zing as "Legion of Doom" or even "Justice League of America." As far as I can tell, Denmark has less than a thousand troops in Iraq right now, and provided some hospital and anti-mining ships. I believe Denmark's role to date has been primarily removing landmines and building infrastructure, but even still, most Danes I know, even the conservative ones, look at their involvement in Iraq as regrettable. The reasons they give are as multifaceted as people's response in the US, but as of yet, I've not met any Danes who are fans of Bush himself. The current Prime Minister, Anders Fogh Rasmussen, is to my sense of things a Tony Blair wannabe who's been handed the unpleasant task of mollifying the rising ultra-right here in Denmark; his way of doing so was to get onboard with Bush. So far, he's been able to stick with his commitment without being too greatly tainted by his connection to Bush personally, but it will be interesting to see what happens down the road.

Meanwhile, on a personal note, I'm in a quandary as to how best weather his presence here. Part of me wants to pretend it's not happening, part of me wants to show up with an American flag and a protest sign. I suspect resignation will win out in the end.

Nyhavn

2005-06-24T09:49:00.000-07:00

DSC00429
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

Completing our photo essay on summer drinking in Denmark, here's a photo of me at the Skt. Hans Aften festivities in Nyhavn, the old sailors' neighborhood in downtown Copenhagen.

School's Out for Summer!

2005-06-24T09:47:00.000-07:00

DSC00404
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

I finished my last student examination, so I now have the next two months to chill, do some research and writing, and recharge for next semester.

This photo is of some gymnasium, or the equivalent of high school, students who've just graduated. New graduates wear a special cap for a while afterward, and on the day of graduation, they ride around in trucks (or in the old days, wagons), screaming and cadging drinks from their teachers, friends, and families. You might see a general trend emerging here regarding summer and alcohol. Hell, anything and alcohol.

Oh, and the sign says, "Honk for the Survivors."

Sankt Hans Aften

2005-06-24T09:42:00.000-07:00

DSC00409
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

Denmark still celebrates summer solstice, but as is the way with Christians and pagan holidays, they've kept the good stuff and just renamed it something Christian. So instead of summer solstice, they call it Sankt Hans Aften (what we'd call Saint John's Eve). Nobody here really knows who Sankt Hans is, nor do we really care much. Because, really, it's just an excuse to stay up late, drink a lot, and light bonfires.

Oh, and did I mention the witch? Tradition has it that we burn a witch. Apologies to my pagan friends, but if it helps, she's a mean witch. Think of her as the Wicked Witch of the West. Burning her sends her back to Bloksbjerg in Germany. I think it's great that not only do we send her back to Germany, but we send her to a specific place in Germany. I've wanted to joke about the implications for foreign and immigration policy, but evidently, we've pretty much taken this part of the tradition from Germany in the first place, so we're really just sending her home. Rumor has it that she joins the Witches' Sabbat when she gets there, so really, it's a good deal for everybody.

Crisis (hopefully) averted

2005-06-22T05:57:00.000-07:00

So it looks like the tooth crisis may have been averted. After about a week with the temporary filling, it cracked and fell out, so I went back to the dentist today. Because there was no pain in the tooth with the temporary filling, he decided to try a regular permanent filling. Hopefully, that will solve the issue.

Interesting note: Danish dentists don't use anesthetic unless they're going to do something really invasive or the client requests it.

Things that make you go... what the f--k?!

2005-06-21T02:14:00.000-07:00

I'm in the middle of grading exams, and as I've chronicled in detail, the Danish exam system is complicated in the extreme. I've given exams in four different formats, plus the typical semester papers that will arrive in a couple more months. The paperwork for these different exams comes in at different times, so keeping it all straight is a bit of a challenge. I've been reviewing my files in anticipation of finishing up this week, and it seems that I'm one exam short. I know the guy took the exam because I had to go to the room where all the students taking written exams were working and check in to make sure he didn't have any questions. But here it is, grading time, and no exam.

Putting on my Junior Detective hat and decoder ring, I called the exam secretary and tracked down what happened. Drum roll please...

He left.

He simply left the exam without finishing. Evidently, you can do that over here. Without failing the exam. You can just try again some other time. Or not. It's up to you. Because we wouldn't want to trouble you by actually holding you responsible for learning anything in the course. There is an option for leaving an exam in the midst of it if you become sick, and there's another option to leave "for other reasons." It invites the question: if you can leave for "other reasons," why have the sick category at all? They should just have it say, "I left the exam because I f-ing felt like it." Or, "I left the exam because I blew off class for eight weeks and I didn't expect that the questions would be related to anything I didn't already know."

Now I ask you, any of you who have spent any time in the US higher education system at all, what do you think the response would be if you up and left an American exam "for other reasons"? I can tell you how I would respond as a professor. With applause, because it would cut down my grading work. It's so easy to fill in the Scantron bubble for an "F" grade.

And if you left for medical reasons, I would expect to see blood gushing from your forehead.

Den-tistry

2005-06-14T04:13:00.000-07:00

DSC00397
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

The blurry white spot in the middle of this picture is a chunk of tooth. It broke off my molar yesterday while I was eating bit of crushed peanut at Le Le, my favorite Vietnamese restaurant in Copenhagen. I pretty much completely freaked out about it and had to go home and rest.

So I rang around a few places and eventually found a dentist who could see me this morning. It turns out that I'll likely need a crown, as beneath the faulty filling that likely caused the chip to break off in the first place there lies a crack in my tooth. Now here's the weird part: if I can get by with another filling, the Danish government will kick in and pay part. If I need a crown, I'm on my own. Because evidently getting a crown on my tooth is a luxury, like gold fronts or breast implants. I think I saw just the other day on MTV Cribs that 50 Cent has had all his teeth crowned. You know, to keep it real, yo.

For now, the dentist has wedged what looks like a piece of Doublemint gum in the gaping hole in my tooth and I'm supposed to see how that goes. If I get pain while eating, then I'll have to go with the crown.

However, there's a solution. Because of the favorable exchange rate between Denmark and Sweden, it actually costs less to get dentistry done over there. So I may be heading over there to get this fixed.

Up until now, my experiences with the Danish healthcare system have been uniformly positive. So it kind of sucks to hear that despite the outrageous tax rates, they won't cover what is by now a basic dental procedure. I think I'm going to take my chip of tooth downtown and hurl it at the National Parliament building in protest.

Summer in Copenhagen

2005-06-12T13:49:00.000-07:00

It's just shy of 11:00pm as I write this, and the sky outside is barely deep twilight. It won't get really dark for about another hour, and then the sun will come up again around 3:30am. I tend to rise with the sun, so it's really wreaking havoc with my sleep patterns. That and the fact that the alcoholic nutcase upstairs decided to play "I Love a Rainy Night" by Eddie Rabbit along with other mellow country classics at 2:30 in the morning the other night. There may be some justice administered US-style here pretty soon if it happens again. Which means that I plan to invade his apartment, give him a good thumping before having him placed under arrest and whisked off to an undisclosed location, and then refuse to leave the place until a replacement government/occupant is selected that meets my approval. Eddie Rabbit is, of course, recognized by NATO and the UN as a weapon of mass destruction, so by precedent I'm completely justified.

I have to get up early tomorrow to attend an all-day departmental meeting. Ostensibly, it's a meeting to discuss how we're going to implement our newly designed curriculum. In fact, it's a meeting to reconcile some department-wide political differences and general malaise. There has been a fair amount of underhandedness in the department surrounding our curriculum redesign, and while most of it was set in motion before my arrival, it does nevertheless involve my position within the department to some extent. Apart from the personal venom that is being directed back and forth by a few members of the faculty, the whole conflict seems a bit quaint after seeing what I've seen at my previous employer. Hopefully, I'll still feel that way after eight hours of it tomorrow.

Grading papers

2005-06-05T04:48:00.000-07:00

One of the cool things about my job as a cultural studies professor is that I get to read student research every semester, which is always surprising both in its range as well as its intensity of interest. This quarter, I've received papers on the following topics:

*Postmodern Hong Kong Theatre
*The role of the audience in Adorno and Barthes
*The Metallica v. Napster Case and the reasons it alienated thrash metal fans
*The legal history of P2P copyright suits and the implications for the music industry
*The Matrix trilogy as a global entertainment strategy
*Dogma 95 in the national and global context
*James Bond villains and their reflection of cultural anxieties, post Cold War
*_Once Were Warriors_ and the case of globalized Maori culture
*Reality television and globalization
*The backlash outside Jamaica against homophobic content in dancehall music

The quality of the papers of course vary in quality, but it's encouraging to see students pursuing topics of personal interest, as opposed to reflecting curriculum choices made for them by the professors.

ToyotaCamry_02-27-05

2005-06-04T00:13:00.000-07:00

ToyotaCamry_02-27-05
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

Buy this car! See below for details.

Hey buddy, wanna buy a car?

2005-06-04T00:00:00.000-07:00

One of the last snags facing Sara and I in our move to Denmark is that we still haven't sold our car. Our friend Geoff has generously been trying to sell it while letting us park it as his place until it does, but I think it's well past time that I get it off his driveway. So if you know anybody in SoCal, or anywhere, who needs a car, send them my way. I'd even be willing to go halfsies on an airplane ticket if need be. Here's the info:

2000 TOYOTA CAMRY, 4 cyl, Power Package (loaded) Gray Leather, Wood inlay, CD/AM/FM, Moon Roof, more. Xclnt Cond. 63,000 miles. Serious Inquiries Only, $10,000 OBO.

It's a very sweet car and I wish I didn't have to sell it. I'll blog a picture here in a second.

Congratulate me on my new status!

2005-06-01T02:31:00.000-07:00

There's been a recent development in my life, so I hope you'll all join me in celebrating. Sara and I live in an apartment that is part of a series of renovated buildings similar to brownstones or rowhouses, except set off from the street like a housing project. It's a nice neighborhood, and gives one the sense of being out of the bustle of Copenhagen's mean streets. There are also a lot of young families, particularly immigrant families with kids. It will come as a surprise to nobody that I'm not much a fan of noisy kids, particularly when they play soccer under my window, as was the case a few days ago. One of them thought it would be a good idea to kick the ball up in the air, which with him being directly under our apartment window, also meant that the ball hit our window. It wasn't hard enough to break it, but it was loud enough to startle me out of reading. Being a kid, he demonstrated that the main difference between childhood and maturity is the inability to learn from your mistakes by immediately deciding to do it again.

So I went to the window and waved my finger at him. I should add that I was wearing a bathrobe and hadn't showered, so my long-past-needing-a-haircut hair was standing off my head several inches in every direction.

And in this moment, as I stood looking down at the boy paralyzed, anticipating just how badly this was going to go for him, I made a realization. In the time it took for my finger to wave from left to right I ticked over from young to middle-aged.

So please join me in celebrating my new found status as stern middle-aged man, which will hopefully be followed by grumpy old guy and eventually crusty old fart. You kids get out of my yard!

The Philosophy of Fun with Danish

2005-05-24T11:00:00.000-07:00

So on today's episode of _Scrubs_, JD's brother is in mourning and confines himself to the bathtub with a mountain of beer for days on end. (By the way, while this might be a good way to deal with grief, it's also great way just to blow the weekend.) Anyway, at one point JD comes to talk to him and the brother starts looking for his beer by sipping off all the cans floating around him. Sip, "Nope, bathwater." Sip, "Nope, backwash." The translator translated this as "body shampoo."

Now here's where things get a little poststructural. The phrase for "body shampoo" in Danish is actually "body shampoo," written in English. I mean, the translator actually wrote "body shampoo" in English as the incorrect "translation" for another phrase _in English_. And while that's Derridean enough to send me spinning for a few minutes, consider that anybody who speaks English is probably going to catch the mistranslation, whereas anybody watching who doesn't speak English would have the same level of incomprehension whether the word is translated incorrectly or whether the translator had just gone ahead and written "backwash" in English. Either way, they don't understand, the only difference being that in the "body shampoo" translation, they think they've actually seen the correct translation and are laughing at the wrong "joke." And this miscomprehension is based on the fact that the Danes are using the English phrase "body shampoo" to represent a conceptual space within the Danish language in a way that it has effectively been naturalized as the correct Danish phrase, as opposed to "back wash," which is evidently what the translator thought was being said, though to my knowledge nobody ever says "back wash" to mean "body shampoo" in English. Something about this is boggling my mind.

Hmm, looks vaguely familiar...

2005-05-23T22:11:00.000-07:00

5936-2
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

Is it just me, or does the pup in the middle look a lot like a certain German politician who had a propensity for invading the Sudetenland?

Spun out on tofu

2005-05-19T08:48:00.000-07:00

To paraphrase Vincent Vega, the funny thing about living in Europe is the little things. Like the fact that you can buy flour tortillas, corn tortillas, salsa, pre-mixed fajita and taco spice packets, but not refried beans. Or the fact that the Danes eat candies based on menthol, eucalyptus, hot pepper, cactus (no kidding), even ammonia, but they think cinnamon candies are disgusting. Or the fact that tofu is incredibly hard to come by. To my knowledge, you can purchase it in three places in Copenhagen, all of which are a good 30 minute bike ride from our apartment.

So Sara and I made a special trip to buy tofu for a dinner party we're having this weekend. The store actually makes it fresh, so it's awesome, but also very soft. I was very much looking forward to my tofu. Until it met the realities of a bike ride home from the store, during which time it gave up its tofu-ey goodness. We now have a plastic tub of white goo.

We are Machine

2005-05-12T20:56:00.000-07:00

Go check out the website for my friends' game development company, Machine: www.wearemachine.com. This is one of the projects I mentioned some time ago as the fruit of chaos born out of my old project. There's not much on the website right now, but they do have a really cool Flash intro page. And speaking of my old project, now that its first "sneak peeks" are out, you can read more about it at

http://ps2.ign.com/articles/607/607020p1.html?fromint=1
http://previews.gaminghorizon.com/media2/1114310328.38.html

Sorry about the cut/paste, but I'm posting from home and Blogger still isn't grooving on Explorer on the Mac. I know, I know, I'll install a new browser, but that adventure is a whole other, not very interesting story. For the record, I had virtually nothing to do with the current design or game narrative, as it was developed roughly around the same time I left.

Who knew?

2005-05-10T06:04:00.000-07:00

whoknew
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

And seafoam is the new heather.

More fun with Danish: International Edition

2005-05-09T20:48:00.000-07:00

One of the continuing, unpredictable pleasures of living abroad is watching the Danish translation services try to keep up with American television programs. They particularly struggle with sitcoms that specialize in wordplay and puns. Mostly, they do a pretty good job, but every once in a while, they do something that makes me wonder if these people actually know anything about this mythical place known as "America." Here are three of my favorite mistranslations:

On _Scrubs_ one of the characters was moving into a new apartment and her friends were helping her move her things. There was a long line of people handing things into a truck and naming them as they went. A character handed up a tacklebox, said "Tacklebox," and the Danish translators translated that as "Box of tacos." Makes sense: you're moving, and hungry, so why not bring a box of tacos?

On _The Gilmore Girls_ (which has become a favorite of mine, rumors that I have a crush on Rory notwithstanding), two characters were vying for the position of town troubador. One character, arguing that troubadors need to be mysterious and elusive, attempted to demonstrate the mundanity and therefore unworthiness of his competitor by asking what he did for a living. He answered, "I manage a Kinko's." Translation in Danish: "I manage a sex club." Evidently, in Denmark, that is a very pedestrian thing to do.

My favorite came just last night, and again on _Scrubs_. As a sidenote, I feel sorry for the translator of this program. It's based largely on puns, abstract silliness, cultural tropes, and slang, so it must be driving the translator crazy. Still, if the person had ever, I don't know, been to America, a lot of this could be avoided. Anyway, last night the mentor figure on the series, Dr. Cox, was lecturing his students about taking responsibility for themselves and medical standards. He asked the rhetorical question, "Why do I care whether you pay attention to my lectures or not?" Answer: "Because I'm accountable. I'm accountable to our patients and to this hospital..." Translation: "Because I'm a cannibal. I'm a cannibal..." I didn't catch anything after that for several minutes because I was laughing until snot threatened to shoot out of my nose. It's a wonderful idea: faced with two translation possibilities, the translator decided that the reason Dr. Cox cares about hospital standards is because he wants to eat his patients.

The Bush Family: Equal Opportunity Satanists.

2005-05-04T04:15:00.000-07:00

bush_satan_5
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

Who says Bush doesn't back women's rights? Clearly, he supports Laura's right to SHOUT at the DEVIL!

Shout! Shout! Shout! Shout at the Devil!

2005-05-04T04:14:00.000-07:00

bush_satan_sign
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

One picture, and suddenly everything is so clear.

Fun with Danish

2005-05-02T22:23:00.000-07:00

Speaking of farts, the Danish word "fart" means "speed" as well as something like "journey." This leads to endless fun for English speakers as we giggle at all sorts of silly words. The apocryphal story goes that back in the 50s during a visit by Queen Elizabeth II, the Danish government was asked to cover up the signs for the well-known city of Middelfart. It's the city you have to pass through as the midpoint on your way from the mainland of Jutland over to the islands of Fyn and Sjaelland, but evidently it was too much for Her delicate sensibilities. Then there's the upcoming holiday, Kristi Himmelsfart, which literally memorializes "Christ's Heavenly Journey," but has always struck me as a bit blasphemous in a bilingual way.

Recently, my friend Martin and I were driving up to northern Sjaelland for a meeting and passed through a road construction area with a reduced speed area, which led to my favorite sign of all time: "Fart kontrol." I giggled all the way from Copenhagen and back, thinking of the Danish police handing out tickets for violating the fart kontrol.

Things I've learned recently, and from whom I learned them.

2005-04-30T16:46:00.000-07:00

The name of the Norwegian band Royksopp means "smoke mushroom" or what we called a puffball when I was a kid. (Ingrid, Arild's Norwegian friend)

Hyenas are more closely related to mongooses than dogs, and both are evolutionary connected to the same proto-organism as cats. (Animal Planet)

The Monroe Doctrine, delivered by President James Monroe on December 2, 1823, was the formal notice by the US government to the colonial powers of Europe that the Americas were no longer open to European colonization and that any attempt to influence the fates of the newly born nations in Central and South America would be considered "as dangerous to our peace and safety." It is one of the first official declarations by the US government that all of the Americas fell under its political domain. However, it should rightly be called the Adams doctrine, as it was drafted and persuasively argued by John Quincy Adams in response to Spain's struggles with rebellious colonies throughout the region, which threatened to drag in France, Austria, England, Russia, and other colonial powers. (usinfo.state.gov)

"Manifest Destiny," unlike the Monroe Doctrine, was not a formally declared US administrative policy, but in fact a term created in 1845 by politician and journalist John L. O'Sullivan as a means of identifying a cultural ideology that had been forming in the US since its origins. (From Revolution to Reconstruction)

The average person farts fourteen times per day. (Sara, though her sources are unknown)

I fart less than fourteen times per day on average, though I believe they are longer than most other people's farts. (Personal, subjective observation)

Profiles in Positivity

2005-04-28T01:22:00.000-07:00

Inspired by Mark D.'s recent blog entry on the importance of being kind, I've been thinking about positivity and the act of maintaining a positive outlook. While I generally try to look on the bright side of things, I think people who know me well would agree that I'm a mixed bag. I try to be polite and present a shiny surface, but I've been known to use my powers for evil. I tend to think of my attitude as "willed optimism," and sometimes the will fails the wish. So, in the spirit of Mark's post, I'd like to present three people I know that embody a true sense of positivity and kindness.

As fitting of the person who inspired this post, the first is Mark D. I met Mark a few years back through another fine Mark, and have been a big fan ever since. We've been to Burning Man a few times, romped through Las Vegas and Reno, built things, burned things, eaten a lot of fine food and had many, many drunken nights together. Best of all, he introduced me to Sara. The thing that has always struck me about Mark is that for him, being kind is a means of leadership. Having worked on a few group projects with him, I've come to understand that real leadership is more than intelligence, skill, and patience, all traits that Mark possesses to great depth; more importantly, people will follow a leader who they feel has their best interest at heart and isn't afraid to do the right thing. If imitation is the greatest form of flattery, then let me say that I have tried, since I've known him, to be more like Mark.

My second profile in positivity is Martin. We met through a mutual friend in Seattle, and though we've really only known each other for about four years, it seems like we've been friends for ages. Martin is a talented musician, artist, writer, and game designer, and once upon a time, he tried to explain the mathematics that lie behind the successful statistical balancing and calibration of a collectible card game. While I successfully studied applied calculus in college and generally think of myself as a pretty smart guy, it was completely beyond my comprehension, at which point he unaffectedly mentioned that he was also an accomplished mathematician before he decided to devote his life to art, music, and storytelling. Normally, I would be jealous of this kind of talent in one person, but with Martin, I can only feel glad that one person can encompass that kind of span. In the midst of all this, as he launches one project after another, zips off to Berlin to play bass with his punk band, flies to New York to negotiate a multimedia game deal, works on restoring his new house, and mixes down his wife's new album, he still finds time to tend to others in a way moves beyond mere politeness and reveals true caring.

My third profile is my friend, Corinne. We've known each other since high school, though we didn't really start spending a lot of time together until college. Corinne is undauntingly happy in the midst of the most ridiculous extremes. I've wondered at her ability to literally laugh in the face of a storm, such as she did at Burning Man 2000, when 60-70 mph winds and duststorms threatened to flatten our encampment and fling all of our belongings across the playa. While I cussed and ran around trying to fix everything, Corinne laughed at it all and eventually made me realize that there wasn't much more I could do except let go. Everything turned out just fine. When you've known each other as long as Corinne and I have, and have been through as much as we have, there comes a time when you're more family than friends, and this is true of us. And like brothers and sisters, we have our fights, which almost always end with Corinne sticking her tongue out at me, calling me a name, and me realizing what a fuddy-duddy I've become. And thank God for that.

They say that the measure of a man is the company he keeps. If I'm to be measured by my friends, then I must be doing damn good.

Cross your fingers

2005-04-26T06:40:00.000-07:00

Sara and I submitted her paperwork for receiving a Danish work/residence permit this week. We had been putting it off, influenced by a number of horror stories about how difficult it was to get a work permit without a job in hand. We'd also been given bad information by the Danish General Consulate in Los Angeles, to the effect that we'd have to prove that we'd lived together for three years to be covered by a "domestic partnership" application. It turned out to be less than that. They also told us that we could extend Sara's tourist visa for a couple of months by going to our local police station and asking. That turned out not to be true either, which left us with about three days to sort out her paperwork and submit it. But it's all sorted now, and the administrator who helped us said it looks like it's all in order so now all we do is wait. It should take a couple of months to get sorted, but once it is, Sara can start taking courses, get healthcare, etc., all care of the state. She can also find a job, which she's pretty eager to do. So everybody cross your fingers that it all works out.

Turtles.

2005-04-16T11:12:00.000-07:00

DSC00364
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

Something I learned today. There are a lot of turtles in Denmark. At least, there were a lot of turtles in the lake at the park. We counted around twenty, just chilling like these two handsome gentlemen.

BEST.CHEESY.PUFFS.EVER.

2005-04-16T11:11:00.000-07:00

DSC00356
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

After my previous rant, we went to the park to recuperate. We brought along Kim's brand "Kanonkugler" cheesy puffs. they are the best cheesy puffs ever. Cheetos are crap.

The Dance of the Pointless System

2005-04-16T02:49:00.000-07:00

And now, ladies and gentleman, for your amusement I will unveil the mysteries of the Danish university examination system. Shrouded in mystery, the fruit of effort of many long-dead scholars who moulder in the graves, looking on in mute approval as their unholy art is unleashed upon the innocent minds of students and non-native professors...

One of the results of working for a university that is over five-hundred years old (founded in 1479 by royal decree, so take that, you Ivy-League elitists) is that the tradition is not simply preserved, it is worshiped. Practices abound in the contemporary university that have no apparent logic, and I find myself wondering if they aren't traces of historical origins that have long since been forgotten, stuck in the administrative institutions like bugs in amber. No practice reveals the reality of this more than our examination system, which is very much on my mind as students begin to prepare for the semester's end. Batten down the hatches, because I feel a rant comin' on.

To begin with, realize that students at the University of Copenhagen do not register for courses, they register for examinations. Regardless of what I am teaching in any particular semester, a student can ask to register for an examination in any topic I may be able to administer. Even students who "sign up" for a particular class I am teaching are freed of any obligation to the lectures or material I present, as long as I am willing to approve their reading list, or "pensum" in preparation for their exam. In practical terms what this means is that I have no way of insuring that students will do any of the reading for the course, since they, in defining their pensum, can avoid any particular text they're not interested in. For that matter, they are free to miss every lecture I ever give and do their own independent study, coming in at the end of semester for the examination, based on a reading list that they define themselves. While this kind of freedom certainly appeals to some students, it's a bit like letting the lunatics run the asylum, as the students are by definition unqualified to decide what they need to know within the field they are studying. If they don't want to study a particularly necessary but perhaps uninteresting topic like say, 18th century British poetry, well, they just don't sign up for an exam in that topic.

A prevailing theory on the origins of the pensum is that it dates back to the late medieval era, when books were scarce and a professor had to not only preserve the sanctity of the library but also had to insure that students weren't all squabbling over the only copy of a particular book.

But wait, the situation gets worse. Students choose the method by which they are examined from a list of 4-5 options, ranging from a take home, self-defined paper to a 30-minute oral exam based on several questions I write based on their pensum (keep in mind, they design the pensum; all I get to do is say yes or no). The students then have up until the actual day of the exam to change their minds. Technically, they are supposed to notify of cancellation sometime in advance, but they are also allowed to "call in sick" for an indefinite period.

Bear in mind that professors submit their course proposals months in advance, and a committee with only a small number of professors on it then chooses what will be taught. Up until very recently, within this committee student representatives had veto power over courses that they thought were unimportant or uninteresting. Again, lunatics running the asylum. So to sum up, students are examined on courses they approve to be taught, on reading lists that may or may not have much to do with the lectures delivered by the professor, and according to the method of their choosing, with the freedom to drop out of the exam pretty much at their leisure.

After the exams are turned in, a censor is appointed to the exams and he and I negotiate the grade each exam receives. Normally, I think this is a good thing, and usually, the censor is another member of the faculty. But occasionally, the censor is from another university or a member of a "censor board" that is comprised of retired high school teachers, journalists, etc. So it's entirely possible that a professor will be put in the position of defending his judgment of how a student has performed on an exam written specifically for his approval, and defending that position to a person who knows very little about what was discussed in lectures or anything about the topic in question.

In addition to the medieval origins of this system, I think we can thank the events of the summer of 1968, when youth rebellions in Europe focused on the education system, not having their own government's interventions in Southeast Asia to otherwise occupy their thoughts. Danish students demanded a larger role in the running of the university system, and my theory is that rather than duplicating what had happened in Paris in May (riots, building occupations, a general strike that shut the city down for a couple of weeks), the Danish government capitulated.

Which means that almost forty years later, I'm still dealing with their lack of backbone. Bastards.

Strange Dreams, II

2005-04-15T13:04:00.000-07:00

I must be on a roll, as I remembered another dream last night. My former boss was trying to coerce me into taking my old job back, and his bait was the promise that he was going to send me to Washington DC as part of a video-game business delegation, where I would be meeting President George W. Bush. Even in the dream this struck me as ridiculous, and I remember very clearly asking in the dream, "Are you sure you think it's a good idea to have me meet President Bush?"

And on a less psychically vulnerable note

2005-04-12T22:22:00.000-07:00

The Unitarian Jihad is taking over the country. Join now, or we'll give you a stern, but loving and understanding, talking-to. From now on I wish to be known by my Jihad name:

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: The Shotgun of Compassion.
Get yours.

Strange Dreams

2005-04-12T21:46:00.000-07:00

I don't usually remember my dreams when I wake up, but when I do, they're usually very eventful, disturbing, and cinematic. Last night was exceptional in that way. So while knowing that listening somebody talk about their dreams is often about as exciting as listening to parents brag about their children, I'm still going to share the triple-feature that played in my psyche last night. First, I dreamed that I was a participant in a contest reality show similar to the ones where a bunch of women compete for one man, etc. Except here, a bunch of childless people were competing for the affection of one orphaned boy. We were each given one day at a time to spend with him, on a rotating schedule, in order to see how we got along and to try to win over his affection. He sure was a cute little kid: white-blond hair, cherubic face, full of little kid affection and funny sayings that seem wrong but end up being wise. After I spent the day with the kid, I got interviewed by the producers, and I was talking about how much I had really started to love the little guy. But in the back of my mind, I knew I probably didn't stand a chance against the other contestants, who were couples that did things like bake pies, take him to baseball games, and take him to the beach to play with their Golden Retriever, Jake.

Second in last night's line up, I dreamed I was visiting a swinger's party, by myself, in this very large house. I don't know why I was there, curiousity I guess, because I told a few people that I was just visiting and I didn't join in on any of the goings on. The party was a lot better than I've usually imagined swinger's parties to be, in the sense the most of the people were attractive, though there were also some older, less attractive people scattered around. I kept my clothes on and mostly just wandered around the house, watching people flirt, take their clothes off, and have sex. I got kind of freaked out by all this and went upstairs, where a women was watching a tape in a side bedroom by herself. I started talking to her, and this was the best part of the dream. It turns out that she was trying to study up for a defensive driving test. For those of you not in or from California, CA allows you to waive the fine and points on most traffic violations if you take a defensive driving course. The courses are not administered by the state, but by private testing companies. The tests themselves are pretty much a joke, and the companies come up with all sorts of ways to make their courses more attractive, so there are courses conducted by stand-up comedians, courses with pizza parties or all you can eat donuts, courses in all sorts of languages. You can take the courses online, and Blockbuster even rents out tapes that you can watch and then take the test. Anyway, some entrepeneurial spirit had made a pornographic driving test course. I didn't get a chance to really watch the tape, but it seemed to be telling the story of a woman driving around town to various "dates," so I think the tape may have also been trying to appeal to the swinger set. After a while, the woman got bored with the tape and went downstairs for a smoke. When I went downstairs with her, everybody had gotten into a huge jacuzzi together, and that's where the dream ended. It occurs to my waking mind that we might be sitting on a million dollar idea here with the porn defensive driving course, so if there are any "movie producers" reading this, cut me in on a piece of the profits.

Dream number three was the most disturbing of the bunch. Sara and I were on some sort of vacation with my family, though who was actually there was unclear. We had parked our RV at the curb and were walking into a large, busy park full of people enjoying a beautiful day. There were kids playing frisbee, people having picnics, balloons and icecream cones. As we were looking out over the park, somebody started shooting a gun at somebody else in the park, and suddenly the whole park was full of people pulling out guns and firing them off at people. The same people who 30 seconds earlier had been dishing up potato salad and tossing horseshoes. We hit the deck beside the curb, and as I was watching this all unfold, somebody started shooting at us. I watched the bullet tracks run in a straight line up the road towards us like in a WWII movie, and then the bullets cut right through our group. At that point, I realized my dad was with us, and that he'd been shot. I woke up just as somebody was checking his pulse and realizing he was dead. There was also a subplot in there about a weird guy with a Russian accent trying to take our picture and sell it to us, and I think he got shot, too.

All of the dreams were very graphic and precise in their details, down to the expressions of peoples' faces, the dialogue, and the "special effects." Feel free to analyse any of these dreams as you'd like, but given that I remember my dreams about once every couple of months, I figured it might be worth writing these down. Not sure what triggered all of that. Maybe it was the spicy stir-fry I made for dinner last night. I'll have to ask Sara what she dreamed about.

Ireland receives George W. Bush

2005-04-11T02:57:00.000-07:00

Here's a link to a review of President Bush's reception during his recent visit to Ireland. Let's just say it didn't go as well as was expected. Be sure to listen to his interview with journalist Carole Coleman, who made the mistake of behaving like a journalist when talking to George W. Bush. If the interview doesn't load when clicked, it means too many people are trying to access it at once, so try again later.

Ireland, you've given us so much: Guiness, whiskey, St. Patrick's Day (even if it is really an American invention), The Frames, and James Joyce. And yet, here it is, another reason to love Ireland.

Thanks to Noel for his care in putting this together, and sorry I originally called the site quality "dodgy." I was only referring to the load problem. Cheers!

MGM v. Grokster

2005-04-07T02:06:00.000-07:00

I'm a bit of a law junky. I love the permutations of logic that go into suits, particularly the major precedent cases that end up before the Supreme Court. I like the idea of nine extremely intelligent but ideologically varying people interrogating the arguments presented, the very image of one person standing before the Supreme Court to argue a particular point.

So I've been thinking about the MGM v. Grokster case, for which I have to thank Mark D. and SJ for turning me onto. If you haven't been following the case, there's a fair assessment of recent Supreme Court arguments here. Basically, 28 of the largest music and film/TV companies (Sony notably excluded) are suing the makers of Grokster, KaZaa, and Morpheus over the propensity of their software to be used in copyright-infringing file sharing. MGM, et al, are basically arguing that because the companies in question could have exercized some control over the use of their software by including technology that reads digital fingerprints, etc., and because they admittedly designed their software to be blind about its use in order to make a profit on its users, they are engaging in vicarious infringement of copyrighted material. That is, according the MGM, Grokster knew that people would use their software to illegally share copyrighted material, and rather than maintaining a central database of these transactions in the way that sank Napster (which was successfully sued because it maintained a database of files that made them clearly aware of how their software was being used.), the companies turned a winking eye at these infringements while still making a profit on the transactions.

The Supreme Court heard oral arguments on March 29, and it will likely be months before there's a ruling on the issue, but I think it's fair to say that this is the kind of landmark case in the entertainment industry that comes along only every few decades, and ends up determining huge material changes in the way we consume culture. I find myself thinking about United States v. Paramount, et al., for example, which broke the studio monopoly on the film industry. This case could easily carry the same kind of stakes for the entertainment industry.

Given my politics, one would normally expect me to come down unequivocally on the side of Grokster, et al, and argue that they can not be expected to anticipate how their software would be used. But it seems like they pretty clearly did know how their software would be used, and so they engineered it in a way that would avoid the problems Napster ran into. If we allow for intent in criminal cases, why not in a case like this? I realize there is more complexity to the issue, but in truth, even though I agree that information should be free, I am at heart a little skeptical about file-sharing in general. I don't do it very often, because part of me can't get around the fact that I'm accessing something that I would otherwise have to pay for, in a way that violates copyright.

I'm aware of the many counterarguments about the vagaries of copyright possession, how money is actually made in the entertainment industry and who makes it, and the many subtextual concerns that go into this, most significantly being the vastly disproportionate profits made on a heavily marketed commodity backed by a major studio or label and how the cost of production is so often elevated by astronomical pay rates for entertainment stars. I agree that the anti-piracy ad campaigns made by studios and labels are disingenuous at best and downright deceitful at worst. I also agree that the entertainment corporations are at least partially to blame in this predicament for holding onto business strategies that simply ignore the realities of how people consume entertainment these days (which is one of the reasons I think of the Paramount case). I also think file-sharing often benefits small companies more than large companies, as it's a way for people to find and try out music, films, etc., that don't benefit from the kind of saturation marketing that the majors create.

But at the end of the day, I still think we're engaging in a collective winking of the eye when it comes to file sharing. Given all of the above counterarguments, downloading copyrighted material without paying for the privilege is still a violation of copyright law.

It doesn't mean I'm likely to stop doing it anytime soon.

Spring arrives in Denmark

2005-04-03T10:41:00.000-07:00

DSC00307
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

Spring has finally arrived in Denmark, and I've almost forgotten how miserable things were. The canal out by my office has completely melted, and a couple of ducks and a swan have taken up residence. Sara and I spent the day at the Royal Botanical Gardens and Museum yesterday. I'd forgotten how beautiful it was there. The first crocuses of the season are just coming out now, so we'll have to return as the rest of the gardens come into full bloom.

I wanna hold your hand!

2005-04-01T23:19:00.000-08:00

I got a chance this week to have have coffee with the executive producer at IO Interactive, the guys who make Hitman. He showed me around their studio, and it was great.

Geoff, my old boss at Sony, used to talk about how much he liked talking with other producers and touring their studios. I now understand why. On the one hand, it has a way of showing you your own mistakes, and on the other hand, it confirms that certain problems in game management, and project management in general, are universal. For example, one of the things that always left me scratching my head was what I called the 'hold-your-hand' phenomenon. It went something like this. I'd arrive most days at about 9am. Around 9:30, I'd do my rounds with team and just sort of see how things were going. Inevitably, I'd encounter at least one person who was either waiting on something to be finished by another person on the team or waiting for somebody to respond to an e-mail with information that only they had. My first questions was always, "Have you spoken to Person X?" The answer was almost always, "No."

"Do you have a couple of minutes right now?" I would ask.

"Sure."

"Okay, let's go talk him." I would then basically hold the hand of the person as he walked over to Person X's desk and asked him the question that had been holding up the works, often for days. Usually, the answer would take five minutes and everything was good. But on really fun days, it would turn out that Person X was also waiting on a similar response from somebody else, and I would spend the day creating a daisy-chain from desk to desk, basically a highly paid form of external initiative, getting people to do what it seemed like they should have been able to do for themselves.

It used to bother me, as it seemed like a poor return on Sony's investment in me to have me walking around the studio saying, "Have you talked to X? No? Let's go talk to him." Even worse, people were often unable to leave their desks, so I would often end up shuttling small pieces of information back and forth across the studio. I found this particularly funny, as I was just about the least technically-savvy person in the studio, and hence, often the worst person to be explaining what somebody else said about "complicated technical issue number 3449." I suppose I'm just enough of a futurist to think that there should have been some easier, high-tech solution for this problem than having a meat-based messenger carrying information from one point to the next at about 2 mph, especially when the information usually degraded so badly as it clunked along through my synapses. I likened it to have a styrofoam cup that I would fill up with information at one desk and hurry over to another desk to deliver it, only the cup had several large holes in the bottom. By the time I got where I was going, all that was left of my steaming hot cup'o'information was the residue.

Among other things I learned while touring IO Interactive, it seems that this is a common problem for producers, and I was assured that no matter how good your communication network is, at some point, face-to-face conversations are necessary. "Did you get that thing done?" "No." "Okay, I need it by this afternoon." So I can lay that complaint to rest. The hold-your-hand phenomenon is part of human nature.

Chad rocks the funky beat.

2005-03-29T01:46:00.000-08:00

DSC00173
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

From our going away party in San Diego.

Food in tubes. Spacey.

2005-03-29T01:44:00.000-08:00

DSC00208
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

Sara and our funky new lamp.

2005-03-29T01:43:00.000-08:00

DSC00210
Originally uploaded by Trevor_.

Okay, now I understand why flickr is so damn cool.