Mobstar

Mobstar seemed like a neat idea - think dungeons and dragons meets James Bond. You begin the game as a lowlife crook and work your way up, striving to one day be a mafia godfather. You can kill people, commit crimes, form gangs, steal cars, smuggle drugs, and do all the other fun things mafia members get to do.

But becoming a mafia member was too good to be true. After spending the last four days playing, I've learned that most of these features are only available to members after the $27 yearly signup fee. So I've wasted my time - because I have better things to spend my money on. Like this.

Student Sample

Blogomaniac

Livejournal was my first glmipse into the world of blogging and web 2.0 culture. I didn't have any interest in collecting friends with sites like friendster or tagworld, and I still don't feel the need to create an account for photo hosting sites like flickr or photobucket. Yes, I was happy with Livejournal - if anything, it was a way to keep in touch with some friends, and occasionally post funny/offensive stuff.

The problem is that LJ is going the way of the buffalo, and I have a hard time letting go. I still use my LJ, yet I feel compelled to keep up with all these new blogging trends. I have a Myspace account, this newly created blog, as well as accounts with social bookmarking sites Digg and de.licio.us.

How many sites and services do I need to expose myself (not literally - like I said, I'm not huge on photo hosting) to the world? If the answer is "one more," then take a look at my newly created Twitter account.

If Tim Armstrong deserves a solo album, so do I.

http://epitaph.com/artists/album/500

OpenOffice and DarkRoom

I found a program the other day that someone made called Dark Room. It's a bare bones writing application designed for those who are easily intimidated by a blank Microsoft Word screen and an ominous blinking cursor. It's a black screen with no menu bars, no tool options, and bright green text. The idea is that it's supposed to get rid of any distractions or anxiety for the procrastinating writer.

I'm a victim of procrastination, so I thought I'd give it a try. I actually found the simple black background more intimidating that a Word document. But it got me thinking about some other possible writing applications.

I've heard a bunch about OpenOffice, but never got around to trying it. It's basically a Microsoft Office clone, but it's free and has loads of extra options. It's also pretty much compatible with its Microsoft counterpart. I just installed it, and although it's still a white screen with a blinking cursor, perhaps the slight change of scenery is just what I need to become more productive.

Helvetica

I found someone who is a bigger dork than I am. He wrote about dedicated to the font, Helvetica. My birthday is in November. Just thought you'd like to know.


http://www.amazon.com/Helvetica-Homage-Typeface-Lars-Muller/dp/3907044878

Roadkill

This article is actually a pretty clear indicator of how bad it is in other part of the world, but I actually found myself smiling. As soon as I read the title, a familiar picture that is an Internet favorite popped into my head. So perhaps by posting both the article and the picture at the same time, you'll see why I smiled.

http://today.reuters.com/news/articlenews.aspx?type=oddlyEnoughNews&storyID=2007-05-08T141119Z_01_L07317596_RTRUKOC_0_US-ISRAEL-ACCIDENT.xml

Plagiarism

I was going to vent about a hassle I had recently in one of my grad classes regarding an idiot group mate who plagiarized part of a project. But that got me thinking about my own experiences, and this came out instead.

---

I was never really a bad student in school. I was smart enough to know how to get maximum reward for minimum gain. I rarely studied, and was irregular at best with homework, but I could carry a relatively intelligent conversation in class and I was generally well-liked by my teachers (which certainly didn't hurt the grades).

I have two distinct memories from English class - one from seventh grade, the other from eleventh. For different reasons, both have stuck with me, and while locker combinations and schedules have long since faded, these two events pop into my head all the time. The funny thing is, I'm sure the teachers have no idea. Interestingly enough, they are both about poetry.

Seventh grade. The assignment was to write a poem. I'm sure there was more to it, but it's unimportant now. Maybe something about poetic devices. As usual, I put it off until the night before. I'm actually not incompetent when it comes to writing poetry, but I was having a tough time getting started. But when I did, it was in the back of the family van on the way back from the grandparents' house. I remember reciting it over and over in my head since I had nothing to write my poem down on. Maybe this is why I can still remember today how my poem began.

The next day I handed it in, and all was well. I even added some clipart for some extra pizazz.

I don't remember how long it was before the teacher graded and passed those poems back. When I got my poem - the one I was proud of enough to have memorized - I couldn't understand what I was looking at. In his red pen, my teacher had written, This is very good. I hate to ask, but are you sure you didn't have help with it? He gave me a 100, but that meant nothing. You can't put comments into your gradebook, but it sure did cound more to me. At the time I was more angry that he had put such an accusatory question on my paper, but now I see what a slap in the face it was. He basically called me stupid, and unable to produce the quality of work I had handed in.

Flash forward to junior year. The project was to hand in a small collection of poems. Again, specifics don't matter. What does matter is the fact that I felt utterly unmotivated - not unable, mind you - to complete the assignment. So I took the easy way out. I dug up one of my obscure punk rock CDs and jotted down the words to one of the songs. It was an Operation ivy song, pretty sure it was called Freeze Up (funny how that detail is important enough to remember). I mean, come on, the teacher was brand new, and this was before the days of the omniscient Google search, so I felt I was safe.

Turns out I was. The teacher had no idea. In fact, she thought "my" poem was so great, that she pressured me for a week to enter it into an upcoming contest. At first paranoia suggested she was messing with me - the old Tell-Tale Heart approach. But she wasn't smart enough for that. She genuinely loved my poem. And she just couldn't figure out why I was being so bashful about displaying my work.

Her relentless compliments were more damning and more punishing than anything she could have done if she had known my crime. I felt like a complete failure. But I learned my lesson.


I guess it makes sense to pair these two separate memories together. One questioned what I did, the other praised for what I didn't. Unnoticed accomplishments and rewarded failures. I know which one I prefer.

How to steal wifi signals

My WiFi situation at home is not good these days. The two signals I usually steal won't connect (perhaps I have suspicious neighbors?), so I'm down to one unsecured Linksys network that is real finicky and generally unreliable. However, the next time you visit, and you want to jump online real quick to see how the WootOff is progressing, this is what you need to do.



Directions:

1. The only place where the signal can be detected is at the top of the stairs in front of the bathroom door. Not too big of a deal if you own a laptop, pain in the ass for desktop users.
   
2. Now that it's detected, you need to coerce the computer into actually connecting. This is achieved by hold the laptop over your head at a slight angle while facing the bathroom window. Of course the bathroom door and the blinds need be open.
   
3. Once connected, you have the blistering speed of a one bar signal at your disposal. At this point, you can lower the laptop from above your head (by now the neighbors are probably watching through the open bathroom window) and you may even be able to sit down in the hallway.

General Warnings:

• For some reason, although it should have no bearing on the WiFi, the signal will be lost if the screen is readjusted to anything more than a 90 degree angle.


• While sitting on the floor, Ruby, my cat will most likely claw at your legs, as this is seen by the animal kingdom as an invasion of territory.


• While surfing the Internet, the upstairs bathroom is off limits, unless the occupant does not mind peeing with the door open and the window blinds up. It's unconfirmed whether or not the flushing of the toilet affects the Wifi; I recommend not chancing it.

How To Steal WiFi

Museum of Bad Art

I've been itching to post something new all week. I haven't shut down my computer at school for two days because I keep minimizing interesting sites that I want to add to my blog, but as soon as I start, something distracts me, or I draw a blank on what to write. Until now.

I present to you, museumofbadart.org. Some guy basically digs through garbage and scowls around thrift stores to find paintings that are just bizarre. I've posted a few of my favorites, but you need to get into the site to get a true appreciation of the collection. The best has to be the two trees that appear to be hugging - one of them definitely has an erection.






Museum of Bad Art