General (RSS)

General

The War in Iraq

There is no doubt that this war is unpopular. Most polls conducted in the past couple of weeks have found that only 30-35% of voters approve of the handling of Iraq. Many people believe it was a mistake. I am one of them. Kerry highlighted in a speech on a college campus a few days ago one of the worst things about going to war in America. Because the army recruits on a volunteer basis, many of the people that enlist are poor, uneducated minorities. For some reason, he's getting a lot of flak for pointing that out. Critics are outraged that he is calling our troops dumb. As if being uneducated means you're stupid.

My cousin is a year older than me. I grew up with him, and I consider him to be a boy. He's not a man. Yet, due to many circumstances outside of his control, he was forced to grow up quickly. Still a teenager, the only work he found was at a construction company doing back-breaking physical labor outside in the worst of Texas heat. There's no way he could have lasted very long there. It came as no surprise, then, that this summer he broke the news to me that he was enlisting in the Army. He figured it was the best way for him to get the money to pay for an education and get out of the rut people often fall into when they don't/can't continue their education after high school. For me, it's especially heart-breaking to see him go because I've seen his potential.

We went to the same high school. He was a bright, intelligent person. He took AP classes and excelled in them. He was a Photoshop expert and a whiz in mechanics. That some politicians got it in their heads to send boys and girls like him to the other side of the world to die for their bullshit is enough to make me cry. It pisses me off fiercely. How was the resolution to go to war ever passed through Congress? How could Democrats have supported this war?

There is only one noble aspect to our presence in Iraq, removing Hussein. He killed thousands upon thousands of innocent people, and no one should have the power to do that. After all the other excuses for going fell through, stopped making sense once we learned that Hussein was not helping terrorists, he wasn't developing WMDs, and we weren't being greeted as liberators, that sole reason remained as our comfort. It was our JUSTIFICATION. Well, it turns out that we've caused way more terror than we were prepared to handle. Islamic fundamentalist terrorism is now resurging. We've also caused Iraqi citizens terror, pain, and misery. A recent, widely reported MIT funded survey put the death toll in Iraq at more than 600,000. This bullshit has to stop. How can a President not show complete remorse? How can he not be crying as he answers the question, "How many are dead in Iraq?" He was asked that question just a couple of months ago. His response was, "Um...thirty thousand, more or less." I can't believe he's so callous. There is no single issue I think more about than the fact that we've made one of the biggest mistakes in American history. Perhaps I'm looking at this through the lense of someone who has only lived here for 20 years. But my life changed completely on September 11th. I realized I was a part of a human family. And I had a responsibility to care for it. Along with everyone else who lives here with me. And we have not been taking care of each other. We've been looking out for ourselves. We must be more careful in the future, before ever considering actions that could lead to violence. And war is never a solution. Because it doesn't lead to violence, it is violence. Therefore, when we choose to engage in war, we've already lost.

The Pressure Applied

MIT has a dubious distinction among colleges. We have the highest rate of suicide of any college in the U.S. In the decade spanning from 1990 to 1999, there were ten suicides, one for each year. In 2000, Elizabeth Shin set herself on fire, spurring a greater commitment by MIT to ensure that its health services are capable of helping MIT students. The suicidal trend continues, however. Indeed, a grad student was found dead in his apartment last Tuesday by his girlfriend. Though the cause of death has not been released to the public, it has been speculated that the cause of death was suicide. Another MIT grad student was found dead in his apartment on the exact same day last year.

Why would students at MIT want to kill themselves? In general, it seems that there is enormous pressure for the average MIT student. For the above average MIT student, the pressure must be much more incredible. I consider myself an average MIT student. I take the normal courseload, consisting of mostly regular classes and then, perhaps, an intensive course now and then. I'm involved in one or two extracurricular activities. Even with this average amount of work, there are some weeks when I have no spare time. I rush from one place to another to complete one task before moving onto another. This past week was the worst one since I've been here. At one point, on Thursday afternoon, I had to calculate my schedule down to the minute. I really had to think to myself, "Do I have time to go to the bathroom?" "Do I have time to eat a bowl of cereal after my sandwich?" By the time Friday evening came around, I had finished everything that was supposed to be done that week, but I was tired and at my wit's end. I spent that night at LSC's presentation of Proof with Jose, Hugo, and Hector.

Watching movies is usually relaxing, and since I'd seen Proof before, I expected to be relaxed while I enjoyed the show. Not so. Proof is about many things, but, in particular, it is about the pressure to do valuable research. At one point, the main character completely describes the life of a typical graduate student. It's not a pretty picture. That made me think, it must be horrible to spend so many years working and working, being stressed and hurried all the time, and all that time knowing deep inside that you will not make the significant contibution you wish desperately to make. It's no wonder some people want it to stop, and the way they find to stop it is to kill themselves.

That realization can lead to serious depression. Moreover, the atmosphere in which that realization takes place is already strenuous. The daily and weekly routines of MIT students can become overwhelming. If you aren't careful, they can make you question your sanity. There needs to be time off, release, relaxation. I suppose that is what weekends are for, but sometimes they aren't enough. To continue with my previous example of this past week, I finally arrived at this weekend and found time to relax. Friday night I did absolutely nothing constructive, and it felt great. But Saturday morning I woke up and started thinking about this coming week. I started remembering what I had to do. I had a major physics exam. I had a six page paper due. I had an i3 video due. I had a math pset due. I had Japanese quizzes and daily performance evaluations. The coming week was going to be harder than the previous one. And I realized, this weekend isn't enough. In fact, what the heck am I doing typing this post and wasting thirty or forty perfectly good minutes? I'm outta here.

Kidding. I've got time. Not a lot, but enough to write this down. MIT life can be dangerous for people prone to emotional instability. I can't say that I've ever been emotionally unstable. It's just not my style. And I'm healthily scared enough of death to do everything in my power to make sure it doesn't get me until it absolutely says I must go. So no jumping off of buildings, as that is detrimental to my health. But I rue the day, and I know it will come, when I have to hear the horrible news of someone who didn't care that much about his or her health and jumped off Building 54.

Comments will be back

The few comments I get are important to me because I love hearing feedback. I've recently obtained the removed comments and will try my best to put them back up. We'll see how that goes....

Apology Retracted

After a writer finishes an essay and publishes it, the essay is no longer hers. It belongs to the reader. It is the reader's burden to interpret the essay using her skills as a reader. In the case of a review I wrote for "House of Wax," I did what no author should do - I apologized for the essay. I apologized for the words. I apologized for not making my points clear. In that respect, I failed as a writer. I did not, however, fail to write the review I intended to write. I have, several weeks later, reread my review. It is perfect as it is. I would not have written it any other way. Period.

Spanish House Website

Exciting news! The Spanish House website is now up and running! Same old link, brand new style!

http://web.mit.edu/la_casa/www

What is Spanish House? Spanish House is a community within New House, a dormitory at MIT. We are composed of about 30 freshmen through seniors, all who live in Spanish House. We have social members that go to Spanish House events, attend Spanish House dinners, and are even Spanish House officers. Social members are fully a part of Spanish House, except they don't live in Spanish House. Some may simply like living in another dorm more, but at the same time enjoy the company of Spanish House members more. Does it seem like I'm saying Spanish House an awful lot? There's a reason...can you guess why?

mit presents: the Vagina monologues

On a bitterly cold but clear night in Cambridge, Daneaya, Hugo, Jose, Andrea, Adrian, and I took a cab from the overrated Pourhouse to a vagina monologue. Most Americans with ties to pop culture will probably be atleast familiar with the term "vagina monologues." Many, including me until now, didn't know what that exactly meant or entailed. Are we actually going to see vaginas? Girls wearing revealing clothing but without actually exposing.....? A boring lecture about practicing safe sex? A humiliating and condescending lecture about not treating women like sexual objects? What exactly is a vagina monologue?

Vagina monologues are true stories about women told by an array of other women in the first person. That is, an actress plays the part of the woman telling her own story to the audience. These stories can be tragic or comedic, intense or light-hearted. Some include men, good and bad; all include women, good and bad. These stories are told through the vagina. One of my favorites was a story called "The Little Coochi Snorcher That Could" told by Jenn D'Ascoli. It's the story of a young Southern girl who began exploring her vagina, but had the misfortune of being seen by her mom, who told her never to touch it. And she got so scared that she never did touch it, even though sometimes she really felt like touching it. One day, as a teenager, she met a glamorous lady who dressed very nicely, had a car, and an important job - a secretary. They became fast friends, and the lady eventually invited the girl to her apartment. At the apartment, the lady began to make sexual advances on the girl, and the girl only managed to make out a little bit before having an orgasm. The lady poured herself a vodka, and the girl asked for the same. The lady hesitated, but agreed after the girl lightly threatened to tell her mom about their sexual encounter. Looser now, they proceeded to play with each other, and the lady taught the girl lessons about her body that she sorely wanted and needed. In that evening, the girl was transformed from a girl ashamed of her sexuality into a woman proud of her sexual identity.

These stories are powerful. They are well-written and captivating. Unfortunately, they are ill-served by the women acting them out. These women are students at MIT, few if none with formal training in acting. This lack of believability strains our patience as an audience. They seem to be trying too hard at times. The "southern" belle in the story above lost her accent about midway through the story. I let it go, but I noticed it immediately. During the truly poignant and saddening stories about genital mutilation, rape, incest, and other horrible acts, we especially notice the poor acting abilities of these girls. They are trying to be good, but they simply aren't. The stories suffer because they no longer seem believable. Perhaps Eve Ensler, the creator of the Vagina Monologues, foresaw this, and, therefore, did a truly smart thing. All of the actresses carry notecards onstage. It's not because they can't remember lines; it is to remind the audiences that these are real women's stories - not theater. To be sure, there were a couple of powerful performances, but in general, the material would be much better served by professionals. Nevertheless, I learned a great deal about women.

The entire event took approximately two and a half hours. At ten thirty, we began walking home, all the while an angry wind biting our severely chapped skin. Minutes later, I walked into my room and turned on the TV. The news said that, with the wind chill, the temperature was 2 below.

Not lately

I haven't been posting lately with good reason. I've been busier than I've been in a while. I took a last minute job back home and hung out with my friends and family as much as I could before I went back. Now I'm back and so excited about the new semester. More later.

Addendum: Morgan Webb

For your viewing pleasure, my favorite pictures of the beautiful Morgan Webb.

Morgan Webb - This girl has game

So, I have a new crush. Since finding out that X-Play is FREE on iTunes and updated weekly, I've been addicted to their reviews of games. But more than that, I'm addicted to the precious few seconds of screen time given to Morgan Webb, the foinest video game geek since Cat Schwartz. Imagine my surprise (not) when she beat out Cat Schwartz in a Playboy poll asking subscribers who they would most like to see naked. I totally agree. See for yourself. (above)

LONGHORN FOOTBALL

HOW BOUT DEM LONGHORNS!!!!!

As you may know by now, unless you've been living under a rock, the Texas Longhorns pulled off a big upset win against the mighty old USC Trojans. A 41-38 win, to be precise. And boy was it an exciting game. It is the reason, the very reason, I quit watching football a long time ago. Some might not understand the amount of emotion that fans pour into every game their team plays. And when you have games like this, games that are the reason they played all those other games, well, you might begin to understand how emotionally charged this game was. In the last two minutes of this game, I could not stop shaking. I hadn't been this bad since John Elway and the Broncos won the Super Bowl. That time I cried. This time I didn't. When that pass flew over the receivers head and I read the 0:00 on the clock and the Longhorn team started pouring out onto the field, I leapt into the air and gave a shout. Inside, I was bursting with joy. The reason I didn't cry during this game, I suppose, was because in the Super Bowl game, Elway had been retiring and he needed that ring. And he got it. Well-deserved. In this UT vs. USC game, there was less personal involvement. It was more the UT program against the USC program. But I can't handle this emotion, especially when it's over football teams. It's just too exhausting. And when it doesn't pay off, it's devastating. Imagine if the Longhorns had lost! But they didn't.

P.S. Vince Young is incredible, invinceable, and impossible to deny. Without a doubt, without him, the Longhorns would have lost.

Shocked and Amazed

Right around this time, one year ago, I was shocked and amazed to receive an envelope with my name on it and an MIT acceptance letter inside. That feeling of elation has not been matched - until now. I admit that I've struggled like a dumb animal through first year chemistry, struggling to get decent grades. And at the beginning, I failed miserably. I won't say what grades I got, but let's say that on my first test, I'd have been able to count the number of people who got a lower score than me on two hands. My grades steadily improved, but not by much in comparison to the rest of the class. Of the three exams we took before the final, I only passed the last one. As the final loomed nearer and nearer, I knew I was at a crisis. I was failing, and the only thing that would save me is an exceptional score on the final. Not just passing, but doing well. For five days, five horrible days, I studied and studied. The day of the final finally came - and it took me by surprise. The first part of the test eased you into the material, pretty easy. About halfway through, I was coasting along through the test, hitting a few bumps, sure, but in general keeping the pace (and breathing sighs of relief), when out of nowhere BAM. I ran headlong into a brick wall. An enormous, impossible, gigantic 46 point problem stopped me cold. While the 10, 15, 20 point problems had gone down like wimps, one right after the other, this 46 point heavyweight wouldn't budge. I just couldn't solve it. I put down what little I knew about the topic, and bitterly moved on, knowing that I'd taken a big hit. The problems afterwards, though not as hard, only slowed me down even further. I stumbled through them, cold fear running up and down my back, knowing my chances of passing this class were fastly dwindling. I finally hit the end and with the time left, backpedaled, trying to fill in or fix anything I could find that I might have the expertise to add or change. But the fight was over. And I knew, I knew that I had lost.

Imagine my complete shock and utter amazement when I checked my grade a few minutes ago and saw that I passed the class. I passed! Miracles do happen! This is perhaps the greatest undeserved gift I've gotten since that fateful day last year. Though Daneaya's constant selfless giving puts up a huge fight.

Finals

Chem - done. Japanese - done. Calculus and Physics - within 30 hours.

Update: No Updates

I haven't been updating lately. Finals coming up and I'm spending more time studying. But I have a lot of good stuff that I've been wanting to put down. I'm also working on something really interesting with another MIT student - an unsolved mystery of sorts. More later.

Greenspan must be very excited

London (AP) - Britain's Treasury chief Gordon Brown paid tribute Friday to outgoing U.S. Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan, saying he had served his country and the world with distinction.

In recognition of his 18 years at the helm of the U.S. central bank, Greenspan was granted the Freedom of the City of London -- a symbolic honor dating back to medieval times which bestowed the right to drive sheep across London Bridge and be hanged with a silken cord if handed the death penalty.

What basic creatures we are

There's a discrepancy between what we like and what we know we should like. It becomes painfully obvious when looking through Yahoo's News in Pictures. You can put the pictures in many different orderings, but in particular you can put them in order of most viewed and in order of most highly rated. If you put them in order of most viewed, most of them are news articles about barely clothed women. If you put them in order of most highly rated, you get pictures of zoo animals. How sad, we can't deny who we are. We love and can't stop thinking about sex, and it shows in everything we do. Even reading the evening news.

The worst thing is that we acknowledge that we are like that to ourselves, but when it comes to sharing that with others, we don't. We hide our shame and guilt. Similar to Adam and Eve. What shame our bodies carry with them! We must keep our sinful business to ourselves. That is why if you order the pictures according to most e-mailed, you once again get mostly animal pictures. If you're going to be sexual, admit it to yourself and to the world. Liberate yourself. Express your sexuality! Don't hide it; it's not shameful business.

Holiday Spirit and the Paradox of Black Friday

It's finally the holiday season. A season of charity and goodwill towards all. A season imbued with the spirit of giving. Jealousies and rivalries forgotten, bad blood cleansed, the fires of compassion stoked. This is the time we prove to God that it's not about US, it's about OTHERS. There's no room for selfishness as Christmas approaches....or is there?

Headlines from Yesterday:

Sale Stampede Sends Shopper to Hospital

Gift fight! C. Fla. cops have to step in

'Pushing and shoving' outside Wal-Mart

Shoving matches bring deputies to Wal-Mart

Two shoppers injured in trampling

I could give you many, many more, but you get the idea, I hope. Black Friday (called thus because it is supposed to be when retailers go into black numbers - i.e. profit) is an opportunity to get a deal on lots of merchandise ranging from electronics to clothing. There are a few catches. One must be willing to wake up early, early in the morning, wait in long lines outside of closed doors in, sometimes, freezing or wet weather, and one must be willing to be forceful and violent, on occasion. If you are willing to do this, then you might get savings in between 10% and 80% off of retail price.

Hugo, Hector, Andrea, and I decided to get into the holiday spirit by waking up around 6 in the morning and going to Cambridgeside Galleria to shop for deals. At one point we contemplated walking the roughly 3 miles to Galleria, but when we saw that the temperature was going to be a bit above 20 Fahrenheit, we decided to take a cab. Split four ways, it cost us $2.50 apiece. Not bad, considering we touched cold air for a total of a minute, maybe.

Once inside, I headed straight for Best Buy. Already, the great deals were gone - computers for 200 dollars, cameras for 100, memory for 20. But people were still fighting over the leftovers. I saw women camped out on top of TV boxes, waiting for the men to return with transportation. I saw children being forced to carry loads of useless (but cheap) gadgets like walkie-talkies, LCD picture frames, off-brand portable DVD players, and crappy movies on DVD. The only thing in the store that I found was a Nintendo Gamecube bundle for only 100 bucks, and Minority Report (a good movie) for five bucks. I didn't need the Gamecube because Thomas is bringing his from home. I decided to take Minority Report to the cash register with me. The line was long, very long. It spanned the entire length of the store - no joke. I made my way to the back of the line and saw the sad rejects, the products that hadn't made the final cut lined up on the wall or put back on random racks. It's so dumb! People just grab stuff, whether they want it or not, just because it's cheap, and in line they realize they have no real use for it, so instead of putting it back, they just toss it aside. I got to the back of the line, and realized I didn't want Minority Report enough to wait in line that long. I tossed it aside, and left.

I ended up going to Suncoast and buying four DVD's for five bucks a piece: A.I., A Beautiful Mind, Minority Report (yappari), and The Pianist. There was no line.

The greed and selfishness of everyone involved on Black Friday is appalling. The businesses, well, are being businesses. Greed and selfishness is just a part of the game for them. Anything to make a buck. But the customers are the same way. Anything to save a buck. Including forgetting that the way to celebrate Christmas is not by getting great deals on gifts so that you have flashier, more expensive gifts to give on Christmas, but by giving gifts that come from a loving, unselfish heart.

The Top Four Sweetest, Most Angelic Singing Voices

I've compiled a list of what I believe to be the sweetest, most angelic singing voices I've ever heard. To hear short clips of their voices and judge for yourself, click on the name under the picture.

husky: utada, janis joplin, tegan and sara

MIT Exams

Unless you really studied, are a genius, or have done the material before taking the class, exams are not about getting complete answers right. You're really happy when you actually get to an answer on the test. What you expect is to apply your knowledge to the problem as fully as you can and get as much partial credit as you can. So with each few points you manage to scrounge here and there, your overall score creeps past failing, past the D mark, the C mark, and usually stops short or just ahead of the B mark. A's are a joyous occassion. A cause for much celebration.

Introductory classes and Humanities classes don't follow the same rules. They are comparatively easy.

Such a Great Surprise - only Daneaya could have done it.

Daneaya is leaving for Thanksgiving a day early, on Wednesday. Before she left, she said she had a gift waiting for me. I wondered what it could be. Before, she gave me an awesome t-shirt with galaxies and stars on it in the shape of Einstein's face. It's an awesome shirt. But she might have topped it this time. For you see, Women's Week at MIT was this past week, and part of the celebration was very prominent members of the MIT community, including Professors Drennan and Guth, wearing t-shirts simply saying "I am a feminist." I really wanted one, but I didn't know where to get one. I was disappointed when Women's Week passed by and I hadn't been able to find one. So tonight Daneaya called me and said if I wanted my surprise I should get it now before she leaves for home. I decided to walk to McCormick in the bitter cold because I knew she was good at giving presents, and I was curious. When she gave me a black bundle, I thought it was a scarf or something similar. But then I unraveled it, and it was a shirt. And then I saw the white word "feminist." My eyes popped open, and I gave a start. I bet she enjoyed the look on my face. I was stunned and delighted. Below is me proudly wearing my new shirt.

Sentiments about the Sarah Silverman appearance on Conan

Thanks to good friend, Joshua, I was alerted to an appearance by none other than the beautiful, talented Jewish comedienne Sarah Silverman.

Unfortunately, the interview was extremely lackluster. Neither seemed that into the interview, (perhaps they were hoping to avoid the same fiasco of last time?) and no real good humor came out of either one of them. It would seem that two comedians could feed off of each other and create a spectacle, but both seemed wary and subdued.

Also, what was with the clip from "Jesus is Magic?" Conan noticed the senselessness of it by thanking Rosario Dawson for the clip in addition to Silverman. It seemed like Silverman was presenting a clip of Rosario Dawson in a movie. Where was Silverman during all of that? Yeah, singing, I know, but come on, Sarah. Humor me.

Personal News

I've decided to begin posting on MSN Spaces. I'll continue to post here, but my posts will also be on MSN Spaces. As of yet, I haven't transferred any of my posts from here to MSN Spaces, nor do I plan to do so. Also, I might post different things on each site from time to time. I'll see how that goes. As it is, I've posted something on Darwin on MSN Spaces, which I don't plan on posting here for a while.

The address is http://spaces.msn.com/members/ernestalba

More than anything: she scares me.

You have favorite artists or a favorite artist. And, though they are absolutely your long-term favorite, you take breaks from their music, especially if they don't come out with new music. But when you come back to their music, and listen to it again, you realize all over again how incredible they are. I love getting that feeling. I got that feeling tonight. Sunday night is usually study night here in Spanish House. People begin to realize that the weekend doesn't last forever, and you've got to prepare for Monday and the rest of the week. I was sitting at my desk, studying for Japanese, and letting iTunes go down the list. After playing a few really good songs, including Sammy Kershaw's "She Don't Know She's Beautiful", Tony Bennett's "Fly Me To The Moon", Shirley Bassey's "Goldfinger", The Scorpions' "No One Like You", Sarah Evans' "Could Not Ask For More", "Wonderboy" by Tenacious D,"William Tell Overture" by Rossini, and "What A Wonderful World This Would Be" by Sam Cooke, it finally got to a song I hadn't heard in a long time. Several weeks, probably. "Eternally" by Utada Hikaru. Listening to her sing, I felt a shiver go up my spine. I had forgotten how haunting her voice is. I had forgotten how beautiful her melodies are. Most importantly, I had remembered all of that now.

Utada Hikaru, among composers, musicians, and singers, you are great.

Serial Killers

Traumatized from Saw and Saw II, I looked on the internet for assurance that the acts in the movie are only possible in Hollywood fiction. Below is the sad proof that it is, in fact, reality.

Jeffrey Dahmer (1960-1994)

Dahmer was born to a Christian fundamentalist father in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. At age eight, his family moved to Bath, Ohio, near Akron. From his earliest youth he was extremely shy and, according to his father, was molested by a neighbor. He collected dead animals and showed signs of necrophilia, but this was revealed only at his trial. He was also a closeted alcoholic and homosexual and suffered from extremely low self-esteem. His parents divorced when he was in his teens. He committed his first murder at the age of 18, killing a young man, Steven Hicks, he had invited to his house because Dahmer "didn't want him to leave."

He later attended college but performed poorly. His father convinced him to join the military, and he appeared to recover some vitality as he became an army medic. In 1988, however, he was arrested for sexually fondling a 13-year-old boy, for which he served one year in a work release camp and was required to register as a sex offender. Shortly afterward, he began the string of murders that ended with his arrest in 1991.

Most of his victims were African American men whom he subjected to sexual assaults. His main goal was for a completely compliant sexual partner, essentially making necrophilia his motivation for killing. He achieved notoriety after his arrest following the discovery of several decaying bodies in acid vats in his apartment. Severed heads were found in his refrigerator and an altar of candles and human skulls were found in his closet. Accusations soon surfaced that Dahmer had practiced necrophilia and cannibalism. Dahmer admitted to eating the biceps of his eighth victim, Ernest Miller, whose skeleton he also kept, noting that human flesh "tasted like beef" to him.

Dahmer reportedly had a history of abandonment and feared loss and rejection. After a bitter divorce, his mother left with his brother, David, leaving Dahmer behind on the assumption that his father would care for him. However, his father had previously left as well, refusing to speak with his wife, with each not knowing the other's whereabouts. Dahmer, at 17 having just graduated high school and without money, was left alone in a home with no food and a broken refrigerator. It is thought that these feelings of abandonment, filtered through his mental illness, created the internal logic that allowed him to justify his actions to himself.

On July 22, 1991, with handcuffs still attached to one wrist, another man, Tracy Edwards, was able to successfully escape from Dahmer's apartment and flag down a police squad car. Police were led back to Dahmer's apartment where the remains of eleven victims were found. Dahmer reportedly scuffled with police trying to arrest him as the remains were being discovered. After being charged with fifteen counts of murder, he entered a plea of not guilty by reason of insanity. On February 17, 1992, a court rejected his plea of insanity and sentenced Dahmer to fifteen consecutive life sentences, which required a minimum of 936 years' imprisonment.

Dennis Nilsen (1944-)

Nilsen was born in Strichen, Aberdeenshire to a Scottish mother and a Norwegian father. His father was an alcoholic and his parents divorced when he was four years old. His mother remarried and sent her son to his grandparents, but after a couple of years, he was sent back to his mother again.

Nilsen claimed the first traumatic event to shape his life came about when he was a small child, when his beloved grandfather died. His strict Catholic mother insisted that he view the body before burial. Whether this incident, or his mother and stepfather's lectures on the "impurities of the flesh" helped shape him into what he was to become, no one really knows.

In 1961, Nilsen enlisted in the British Army and became a cook in Aden, Cyprus and Berlin. He left the army in 1972 and served briefly as a police officer. From the mid 1970s, Nilsen worked as a civil servant in a jobcentre.

He had a series of superficial, transient relationships with men, but they did not help to placate his profound isolation and loneliness. Like Jeffrey Dahmer, he sought somebody "who wouldn't leave." He wanted a corpse.

All his victims were students or homeless men whom he picked up in bars and brought to his house either for sex or just for company. Nilsen strangled and drowned his victims during the night, waking up with little memory of what he had done. He used his butchering skills, learnt in the army, to help him dispose of the bodies. Nilsen had access to a large garden and was able to burn many of the remains in a bonfire. In 1981, however, Nilsen moved to an upstairs flat. As his murders continued, he found it difficult to dispose of the remains and had suitcases full of human organs stored in his wardrobe, and plastic bags with human remains under the floorboards. Neighbours had begun to notice the smell. When he tried to dispose of the bodies by flushing them down the toilet, he blocked the sewerage of his house in Muswell Hill (23 Cranley Gardens), north London. Dennis Nilsen was arrested in 1983 on suspicion of multiple murder. He apologized to the police for not being able to tell them the exact number of people he had killed. When his house was searched, they found three heads in a cupboard, and they found thirteen more bodies in Nilsen's former place of residence at Cricklewood at 195 Melrose Avenue. During the trial at Old Bailey, Nilsen was cold and distant, and seemed utterly unaffected by the fact that he had murdered fifteen people. He was sentenced to life in prison. Nilsen's minimum term was set at 25 years by the trial judge, but the Home Secretary later imposed a whole life tariff, which meant he would never be released. But after the Home Secretary was stripped of his powers to set minimum terms in November 2002, Nilsen could be freed on life licence in 2008 because of his original 25-year minimum sentence.

John Wayne Gacy (1942-1994)

Gacy was born and raised a Catholic in Chicago, Illinois. He had a very troubled and distant relationship with his stern, abusive father. He worked briefly in Las Vegas, Nevada, before returning to Illinois. He attended a business college and began a moderately successful career as a shoe salesman in Springfield, Illinois, where he became a prominent member of the Jaycees. In 1964 he married and moved to Waterloo, Iowa, where he managed a Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant belonging to his wife's family. However, Gacy's first marriage fell apart after he was convicted of child molestation. He was sent to prison for this crime; after he was released, he moved back to Illinois. He successfully hid this criminal record until police began investigating him for his later murders. In 1975, he bought a house in an unincorporated area surrounded by the Chicago neighborhood of Norwood Park, living there with his widowed mother, and established his own construction business, PDM Contracting. He married a woman he had known since high school, and his and her two daughters moved in with him and his mother moved out. He became a prominent and respected member of the community. In addition to his clown act, he became a committee member for the Democratic Party. In this capacity, he was even able to meet and be photographed with then-First Lady Rosalynn Carter.

It was also during this time that he claimed his first known victim, a teenage boy he picked up at a bus depot. His marriage fell apart and his wife divorced him in mid-1976. Gacy began a double life: respected member of the community by day, sexual predator and murderer by night. No suspicion fell on him until late 1978, when he was investigated following the disappearance of a teenage boy, Robert Piest, who was last seen with Gacy. A search of his house, by Des Plaines detective Joseph Kozenczak, revealed a number of incriminating items related to other disappearances. In December 1978 Gacy went to the police and confessed. He claimed he had first killed in January 1972. He confessed to 33 murders, indicating where the bodies were in 28 of the cases—buried under his house. The other five he said were thrown into the Des Plaines River. Most of the victims were young male prostitutes. Some victims were also teenage boys whom Gacy had hired through his contracting firm. Bodies were uncovered from December 1978 to April 1979, when the last known victim was found downstream in the Illinois River.

On May 10, 1994, Gacy was executed in Stateville Penitentiary near Joliet, Illinois, by lethal injection. According to reports, Gacy did not express remorse. His last words were to the effect that killing him would not bring anyone back, and he is reported to have said "You can kiss my ass," to a guard while he was being sent to the execution chamber.

Some have pointed to his poor relationship with his abusive, alcoholic father, his head trauma and subsequent blackouts in his teenage years as some basis for his acts. During his time on Death Row, Gacy took up oil painting, and his favorite subject was painting portraits of clowns. He claimed to have used his clown act as an alter ego, once sardonically saying that "A clown can get away with murder." After his execution, his paintings were sold at auction. Reportedly, the main buyer destroyed the paintings after winning the bids.

Aileen Wuornos (1956-2002)

Born in Rochester, Michigan, Wuornos had what was by most accounts a traumatic childhood. Her father, a psychopathic child molester left her mother before Aileen was born, and later committed suicide in prison when she was 13 (1969). Her mother abandoned her and her brother, Keith, in 1960, leaving them in the care of their grandparents, Lauri and Britta Wuornos.

Wuornos later said that Lauri physically and sexually abused her as a child, that Britta was an abusive alcoholic, and that they both claimed to be her actual parents until she was twelve, when she found out the truth. She also claimed to have had sex with multiple partners, including her brother, at a young age.

A storeowner in Palm Harbor, Florida, named Richard Mallory took a ride with Wuornos on November 30, 1989, and became her first victim. Over the next two years, five subsequent victims were found; one other is still missing. Wuornos was eventually identified when she and her girlfriend Tyria Moore had an accident while driving a victim's car. She was apprehended a few months later. Wuornos cited self-defense for Mallory's murder, maintaining that he had attempted to rape her. She was convicted for this first murder in January 1992 with help from Moore's testimony. fter her first death sentence, Wuornos often said she wanted it all to be over. In 2001 she began fighting to be executed as soon as possible. She petitioned the Florida Supreme Court for the right to fire her legal counsel and stop all appeals, wording her request so as to forestall any objection: "I'm one who seriously hates human life and would kill again." Due to her mental instability, some have argued that she was in no state for them to honor such a request. Wuornos was executed by lethal injection (which she requested instead of the electric chair) at 9:47 a.m., Wednesday, 9 October 2002. Her last words:

"I'd just like to say I'm sailing with the Rock and I'll be back like Independence Day with Jesus, June 6, like the movie, big mothership and all. I'll be back."

After her execution she was cremated, and her ashes were taken to her native Michigan and spread around a tree.

She had requested that Natalie Merchant's (from the group 10,000 Maniacs) song "Carnival" be played at her funeral. Natalie Merchant commented on this when asked why her song was run during the credits of the documentary Aileen: Life and Death of a Serial Killer.

"When director Nick Broomfield sent a working edit of the film, I was so disturbed by the subject matter that I couldn't even watch it. Aileen Wuornos led a tortured, torturing life that is beyond my worst nightmares. It wasn't until I was told that Aileen spent many hours listening to my album Tigerlily while on death row and requested 'Carnival' be played at her funeral that I gave permission for the use of the song. It's very odd to think of the places my music can go once it leaves my hands. If it gave her some solace, I have to be grateful."

Ted Bundy (1946-1989)

Bundy was born in 1946, in Burlington, Vermont. His mother, Eleanor Louise Cowell, was a young department store clerk. His father's identity has never been authoritatively established. For the first few years of his life, Bundy and his mother lived with his mentally unstable grandfather in Philadelphia. At age four, he appeared at his aunt's bed one morning, smiling as he brandished several knives and put them beside her in bed. Bundy and his mother soon thereafter moved to Tacoma, Washington, where her uncle Jack taught music at the College of Puget Sound.

Friends generally recalled Bundy as a happy, normal child. He was a good, if not spectacular, student at Woodrow Wilson High School, and was active in the Methodist Church and the Boy Scouts. However, as he told Stephen Michaud and Hugh Aynesworth, authors of Bundy's definitive biography The Only Living Witness, he had no natural sense of how to get along with other people. "I didn't know what made people want to be friends," he told the authors. "I didn't know what made people attractive to one another. I didn't know what underlay social interactions."

The extroverted Bundy worked and campaigned for the Republican Party as an adult. He also worked as a volunteer at a Seattle rape crisis center. Bundy had one serious relationship with a college freshman only known to the public as "Stephanie Brooks." At one point she ended the relationship due to a lack of ambitiousness on Bundy's part, and they separated for a period of roughly two years. He eventually courted her again and then proposed. She agreed to marry him. Two days later, he unceremoniously dumped her by ceasing to return her phone calls. It was shortly after this final breakup that Bundy began a homicidal rampage lasting three years.

While some believe Bundy may have started killing in his early to mid-teens — a twelve-year-old neighbor vanished from her house when Bundy was fourteen — the earliest verified murders began in 1974, when he was 27. Shortly after midnight on 4 January 1974, Bundy entered the house of Joni Lenz, an 18-year-old student at the University of Washington, and bludgeoned her with a crowbar while she slept. Bundy also removed a bed rod from Lenz's bed and used it to sexually assault her. She was found the next morning, in a coma, lying in a pool of blood. Lenz survived the attack, but suffered permanent brain damage. Bundy's next victim was Lynda Ann Healy, a senior at the University of Washington. On 31 January 1974, Bundy broke into her room, knocked her unconscious, meticulously removed her clothes and dressed her in jeans and a shirt, wrapped her in bedsheet, and carried her outside. A single hair would be found at the crime scene which did not belong to the victim. A year would pass before her decapitated, dismembered remains were found. From that January to June he stalked and killed more than one young woman a month, a spree that culminated in July with the double daytime abduction and murder of two females at a lakeside park near Seattle. He murdered approximately ten victims in Oregon, Utah and Washington. Bundy had a remarkable advantage as his facial features were charming, yet not especially memorable. He would be later described as a chameleon, able to look totally different by making only minor adjustments to his appearance, e.g., changing his hairstyle. That autumn, Bundy moved on to Utah, where he raped, sodomized and strangled a 17-year old girl. Her body was found nine days later. Next was Laura Aime, also 17, who disappeared on Halloween. Her remains were found nearly a month later.

In Murray, Utah, on November 8, 1974, dressed as a cop, Bundy lured Carol DaRonch into his car where he then attempted to slap a pair of handcuffs on her. Fortunately for DaRonch, he only got one wrist. She wrenched her door open with the other hand and escaped. Bundy was later captured and convicted of DaRonch's kidnapping on June 30, 1976. He was sentenced to one to 15 years in Utah State Prison. Colorado authorities, in the meantime, were pursuing their murder cases.

On June 7, 1977, in preparation for a hearing in his murder trial, Bundy was transported to the Pitkin County, Colorado, courthouse. During a court recess, he was allowed to visit the courthouse's law library. Bundy jumped from a second-story window and escaped, injuring his ankle, which caused him to remain in the area. He was recaptured a week later. In jail, he somehow acquired a hacksaw and managed to saw a hole in the ceiling. On the night of December 30, 1977, Bundy climbed out of the hole, and was able to walk right out the jail's front door. He stole a car in the parking lot.

He flew from Denver to Chicago, caught an Amtrak train to Ann Arbor, Michigan, then stole a car which he ditched in Atlanta before boarding a bus for Tallahassee. There, in the early hours of Super Bowl Sunday 1978, he bludgeoned two sleeping women to death and seriously wounded two others inside their Chi Omega sorority house. On February 9, 1978, Bundy traveled to Lake City, Florida. While there, he abducted and murdered 12-year-old Kimberly Leach. Bundy was later stopped by a police officer in Pensacola. When the officer called in a check of Bundy's license plate, the orange VW he was driving came up as stolen. Before long, Bundy was identified and taken to Miami to stand trial for the Chi Omega murders. After being convicted, Bundy was sentenced to death. During the trial, he married Carole Ann Boone, a former coworker and admirer. During his incarceration, Bundy received hundreds of fan letters from female admirers. In October 1982, Boone gave birth to a girl, whom Bundy adored. Eventually, however, Boone moved away, divorced him, and changed her and her daughter's last name.

The night before Bundy was executed, he gave a television interview to Dr. James Dobson, head of the Christian organization Focus on the Family. Bundy claimed that consumption of violent pornography helped "shape and mold" his violence into "behavior too terrible to describe." Bundy said that he felt that violence in the media, "particularly sexualized violence," sent boys "down the road to being Ted Bundys." It is noteworthy that Bundy had never blamed pornography until this interview and no pornographic materials were found at his home when it was searched. According to Hagmaier, Bundy also contemplated suicide in the days leading up to his execution, but eventually decided against it. In 1989, 42-year-old Bundy was electrocuted in Florida. His last words were, "I'd like you to give my love to my family and friends."

The Luckiest Man in the World

President Bush is on the verge of becoming the luckiest man in the history of civilization. Despite a legacy of ineptitude in academics, business ventures, and politics, George W. Bush has managed to be at the top of the food chain. He attended Yale University, he ran a large oil company (into the ground), he was the governor of Texas for 8 years, and now he has been elected President of the United States of America twice. It seems, though, that he has been served his comeuppance, finally. His ratings are extremely low, he has caused a seemingly unjustified, expensive, and politically self-destructive war, and his administration is reeling from scandals. Liberals can confidently wear their "Don't blame me - I voted for Kerry" t-shirts.

At least for now.

Because, in case any one has forgotten, Iraq is going to be a democracy. Despite seemingly insurmountable negative opinon from countries around the world, including America itself, Bush has remained steadfast in his plan for Iraq. Come December 11, Iraqis will elect a new parliament to run the country, and we will know whether Bush's plan works or continues to fail miserably. But Iraq's struggle for democracy is not entirely a domestic conern. Middle Eastern nations are watching closely. If democracy succeeds in Iraq, it could potentially sweep over the entire region, bringing a lasting peace to this war-scarred region.

Bush's presidency is approaching its end. Historians will begin writing his chapter in the history books. For good or for bad, George W. Bush has made a major impact in history. How will he be remembered? As a stubborn liar, squanderer of prosperity, and incompetent leader? Or as the hero who brought lasting peace to millions in despair?

Boston Symphony Orchestra performs Mozart and Tippett

Tippett's A Child of Our Time, an oratorio of the extermination of the Jews during WWII, is a haunting and powerful interpretation of the tragedy. My favorite passages from the libretto, written by Tippett himself, follow.
    The world turns on its dark side.
    It is winter.

    I am caught between my desires and their frustration as between the hammer and the anvil.

    Mother! Mother! Though men hunt me like an animal, I will defy the world to reach you.

    And my favorite
    Man has...driven the gods from their thrones. But the soul, watching the chaotic mirror, knows that the gods return. Truly, the living god consumes within and turns the flesh to cancer.

Tippett intersperses African-American spirituals in the oratorio, adding another layer of richness and sadness to the piece. At once, one is hearing the tragic plight of the people of Israel, slaves in the land of Egypt, the people of Africa, slaves in the Americas, and the people of Poland and Germany, slaves in their own lands. The performance of the piece was, as far as I could tell, excellent.

The piece was preceded by Mozart's Posthorn Serenade No. 9 in D, K.320. By the way, whenever you see K. # - that signifies that you are looking at one of Mozart's works. The Köchel catalogue attempts to organize Mozart's works in chronological order from K.1 to K.626, which happens to be Requiem mass in D minor, his most famous work. Posthorn Serenade No. 9, K.320 is divided into seven movements. I very much liked this piece. It's a classic example of Mozart's style.

    1. Adagio maestoso - Allegro con spirito
    2. Menuetto: Allegretto - a personal favorite
    3. Concertante: Andante grazioso
    4. Rondeau: Allegro ma non troppo
    5. Andantino - a dark, brooding piece - another favorite
    6. Menuetto - superfluous, in my opinion, overshadowed by seventh movement
    7. Finale: Presto - a rousing, triumphant piece with plenty of fireworks

Now For Pictures


A wide and blurry look at Symphony Hall. Unfortunately, a lot of these pictures look blurry.


The frame of the stage is elaborately carved gold-painted wood with a single name at the very top center of the piece: Beethoven.


front to back: Daneaya, Jose, and Hugo


front to back: Jose, Daneaya, me


Reactions after hearing K.320. Daneaya looks thrilled; Jose looks less happy.


More reactions to K. 320. I guess Hugo didn't much care for it, either.


My reaction to K. 320. It's supposed to be a look of intense thought.


Jose inside the Prudential Mall on his way to the MIT Safe Ride.

First Snow '05

A lot of news today, it seems. Later tonight, I'll probably be posting about the Boston Symphony Orchestra concert. (!!!)

The snow came down really fast this afternoon. This morning, everything was dry and clear. Then, around noon, the flakes started drifting down from the sky. They came down sporadically at first, then thicker and thicker, similar to the first level in the fourth world in Donkey Kong Country. What I mean is shown below.
    So first, it's clear skies.

    Then, the skies darken.

    Then....snow - in the distance.

    The snow thickens and approaches....

    It's upon us! A blizzard of biblical proportions!


And this is what it actually looks like. I know, I know, it's less than biblical in magnitude.


Thomas shows off his pectoralis minisculus, biceptus nonexisticus, and ego gigantimus.


Sarah celebrates the return of winter.


IM soccer players play soccer on Briggs Field. WE were going to play IM football, but the other team didn't show up, so we went back into the blessed warmth of New House.

Philosopher of the Decade

To whom does this distinguished honor go? That question should be secondary to a more relevant question: Who is bestowing this honor? The answer to the second question is this: a panel of experts for Men's Health Magazine compiled a list of men who have "used their talents to change the world around them, rather than just to draw attention to themselves." Each man on the list represents a different area of expertise, including sports, music, food, business, and design.

About the Philosopher of the Decade, "We were particularly pleased to have [this man] on the list. He has taught a whole generation how to take on the challenge of modern fatherhood and win - although not always with honor."

I'm pleased to report that the Philosopher of the Decade is....


Homer Simpson

The Simpsons is seen by many critics as the greatest animated series ever. In 1998, Time named it the best TV show of the 20th century. The show also has a vast array of colorful supporting character, some of which are displayed below. Each has his own life and his own story. Avid fans will know exactly the personality of each of the characters below. That is part of the beauty of the Simpsons. In fact, Bart Simpson was named to the Time 100, the publication's list of the century's 100 most influential people - the only fictional character on the list. The show has won 21 Emmy's, a Peabody, a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, 22 Annie Awards, and numerous other awards. The creator, Matt Groening, even won a Nobel Peace Prize for creating The Simpsons, the show's producer was anointed Saint Ian Maxtone-Graham by Pope John Paul II himself, and Hank Azaria, a voice actor for the Simpsons, was subsequently inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame even though he plays no instruments, can't sing very well, and doesn't even like rock. The Simpsons is broadcast in several countries in the Americas, Europe, Asia, the Middle East, and Africa. Family Guy creator, Seth MacFarlane, has said that his show was strongly influenced by The Simpsons and many jokes, even episodes, are extremely similar.

The Most Beautiful Love Song Ever

These are some lyrics from a love song by an artist you might know. Imagine playing this song at your wedding....

The day in which you were born, my love,
That day all my pains were born.
Evil person, you're going to pay dearly
because you don't interest me anymore,
Evil person, because you are a liar and evil
And in your entirety, you are going to burn in hell!

Can you guess who it is?

It's Juanes, "Mala Gente.".

Get some new ideas, guys.

i just got a tv. Daneaya gave it to me because she just bought a new one. I don't know how they do it at other colleges, but MIT has free cable for its students. There's this one channel that's like an MTV for bands that aren't well-known. Basically, for bands that are one level above playing in garages. There aren't any music videos or anything, it's just the band playing in front of a camera. One band on there made me laugh. Well, they started playing and they sounded pretty good for the first ten seconds because they were really using the piano and had a nice melody. Then the drums started and the electric guitar and I realized why it sounded so good, and I had to laugh. It sounded almost EXACTLY like Clocks by Coldplay. I mean, maybe the notes were slightly different, but it was pretty much the same. The band lost all credibility right there.

The Final Word on iPod video

It's strange that only one day ago, I was wondering why my friend had bought the iPod video in the first place. Now I see that it's the type of video player I'd been waiting for. It plays everything after getting a small free program off the web and using it to convert your files in a relatively little amount of time. And the screen resolution and video quality are extraordinary. Even your movies look fantastic on this screen and you'll have no qualms about watching them over an extensive period of time - it'll be enjoyable. And the huge hard drive (30gb or 60gb) is a steal at 300 or 400 dollars, respectively. Plus it's the smallest video player you'll find out there. It's even smaller and thinner than the 20 gb iPod and weighs less, too. And you can't forget that it's still the iPod music player everyone loves.

Finally, Apple does something right.

Oh, the iPod nano is nice, too. But since it's only fifty bucks to upgrade to a video, you might as well get the video.

Update: It's interesting that all the press is following my lead. Now, everyone is talking about how the ipod video isn't really an ipod video just a new generation of ipod that plays video. Soon, I suspect, they're going to realize that it actually is a powerful video player more than just an audio player.

    Example Headlines:
    ABC NEWS: "Don't call it the Video iPod, the vPod, or anything that indicates that this is a video player. It's the new iPod, period."

    Washington Post: "With Video IPod, the Music Still Comes First"

The MIT Symphony Orchestra (MITSO)

At 8 PM, or a little after, Dante Anzolini began conducting the MIT Symphony Orchestra in Suite No.1 of one of the most popular operas ever composed, Carmen. That began one of the most delightful two hours in recent memory.

MITSO is composed almost entirely of MIT undergraduates, students like me, but students unlike me because they are incredibly gifted musicians while I am an incredibly gifted....well I can't quite think of anything I'm gifted in. Being showcased tonight was the prodigy and MIT student, Serenus Hua. He began studying violin at TWO years old and attended Julliard at NINE. He came to MIT at FIFTEEN, and is almost finishing his degree. He's won several international competitions, performed with orchestras from major cities, and toured Europe twice. In short, he's got the goods.

After the first piece, the aforementioned rousing Carmen Suite No. 1, Serenus Hua starred in the second piece, a variation on a theme in Bizet's Carmen by Pablo de Sarasate. A bit about the piece: though it certainly copies the melodies from Carmen, it uniquely and grandly displays them. Or maybe I was just taken aback by Hua's use of the violin. I thought it was incredible. There he was, in front of the rest of the orchestra, swaying to and fro with the music, quickly and deftly moving his bow against the strings, creating so many, many different kinds of sounds. I didn't know anything like that was possible with a violin. A friend sitting next to me, commented afterwards, "I've never seen anyone play so well. It's like he and the violin were one." She would know; she has been playing the piano and violin since she was a child.

The final piece, Shubert's Symphony No. 9, is something you need to hear to appreciate. I don't know enough about classical music to properly describe it, but I know I enjoyed it. The last movement is definitely my favorite. I'd like to finish this post by quoting from Steven Ledbetter's critique of Symphony No. 9.

    The first movement begins with a horn theme that might be the typical "slow introduction". But Schubert welds it to the body of the movement, making it a cornerstone of the entire symphony..The second movement is laid out on the simplest of musical plans. Yet the flow of ideas is so lavish and imaginative that one scarecly notices the straightforwardness of the design in the poetry of the elaboration.The scherzo, too, is elaborated in extenso as a full-scale sonata form. In several places, Schubert introduces themes that truly waltz, lilting in the style that became the hallmark of Vienna.The last movement is nothing short of colossal in time span, energy, and imaginative power. Two seperate motives - one dotted, one in triplet rhythm - stand at the outset as a call to attention and a forecast of things to come. Both play a role in the opening theme, which grows with fierce energy to the dominant cadence. After a pause, a brilliantly simple new idea - four repeated notes in the unison horns - generates an independent marchlike theme that shows off its possibilities later on as it dominates the extended development. The opening dotted motive prepares the recapitulation with increasing intensity, though when it arrives, Schubert arranges matters so as to bring it back in the completely unexpected key of E-flat! The first section of the recapitulation is abridged, but it works around to C major for the more lyric march of the secondary theme. This closes quietly on a tremolo C in the cellos; they sink down two steps to A, starting the massive coda, which reworks the materials nearly as extensively as the development section in the middle of the movement. The mood passes from mystery and darkness to the glorious sunshine of C major as the symphony ends in a blaze of glory.

Jasper comes thru once again.

At first, I thought it would be enough to thank him in another comment. But Jasper Cheing deserves a post specifically to congratulate him. I don't know how, but Jasper has a gift. He can find virtually anything on the Internet. He's done it many times, the most memorable being his rare discovery of a Salvador Dali/Walt Disney animation and now this.

Not only has he found a converter for mpegs and avis, but it converts them straight to mp4 so they drop nicely onto your ipod. The best part is this: mpegs are not compatible with quicktime because the way the data is coded interlaces the audio and video. Quicktime separates video and audio tracks. So if you convert mpegs using quicktime, you get no sound. I'd been frustrated by this development for several hours now. But this program overcomes that obstacle in one single step. The second part of the best part is this: Quicktime could convert some files, avi's mostly, but it took about two hours for five minutes of conversion. How long does it take this program to do five minutes? about a minute and a half.

As the days progress, it becomes easier and easier to find what Jasper found. The point is, though, that he found it very soon after the ipod video came out. That is much harder to do than waiting a few days till a lot of programs are being made or word of mouth gets around. In fact, just a day after, all you have to do is google ipod video converter and BAM, it's the first link. But when Jasper found it? not a chance. Believe me - I searched for a good hour to no avail.

Jasper, I'm much obliged.

Update on video iPod

So I might have spoken too soon. Apple is still a sleazy company, but apparently there IS a way to put all your mpeg's and avi's on your ipod. From what I hear, you have to have Quicktime Pro, a 30 dollar purchase, AND something like Riverpast Video Cleaner, another 30 dollar purchase. So your 300 dollar investment becomes at least a 360 dollar investment. And you're roped into Apple even more then you had wished.

Latest Update:

I have once again spoken too soon. You DON'T need Riverpast Video Cleaner for SOME of your videos, particularly your avi's, which are probably your TV shows and movies. MPEGS (most music videos), however, probably need somthing like Video Cleaner.

My Concern for Bloggers

Dear Fellow Blogger,

We all have our reasons for creating our blogs. Sometimes, we want to fit in with a group. All of our friends have blogs, why shouldn't we? Or perhaps we just want to write down what we think. Or perhaps there is an informative purpose to our posts. Whatever the reason may be, do not be discouraged by lack of response.

The irony here is that few people read my blog. So this message is hardly reaching its target audience. That doesn't really matter, though. Blogs are as much for ourselves as they are for anybody else. They allow us to delve into our own feelings and learn how to express them in words that make sense to others. Have you ever gone back and read something you wrote a long time ago? Of course you have. In that manner, you can see whether your writing was effective or not because over time you forgot the meaning and have to regain it through your writing.

It may feel awkward to write when you know no one is going to read it. But, please, get over yourself. You're doing yourself a favor by not caring. See? I'm doing it right now.

Sincerely,
Ernest Alba

Be Wary of the Video iPod

I bet you've heard of the video iPod. Apple's advertising campaign is deceptive. They make it seem like you can watch your music videos, TV shows, maybe even movies on your iPod. Not true.

First of all, the screen resolution on this ipod is lower than you'd expect. The highest resolution you can watch videos in is 480X480, which isn't bad compared to everything else that's out there, but you certainly aren't going to watch your movies on it. Not only that, the battery life is two hours for video so you'd barely be able to watch one movie before needing to juice up again. Oh and it doesn't allow widescreen. That's just the beginning, though. All those music videos and Family Guy episodes you downloaded with Limewire? Sorry, can't put 'em on here. Only Quicktime format (mov and mp4) is allowed. So that reduces your viewable library down to practically nothing. And the few Quicktime videos you do have? Probably too high resolution to watch.

So why the hell did they release this video ipod? Well, you CAN watch music videos and TV shows on them, but you have to pay for them on iTunes. So, if you want the ipod video, then know what you are getting into. It's just another ipod with a bigger screen and better resolution. It's great for pictures and home videos, by the way. So if that's a big thing for you, then I'd suggest the video ipod. The price isn't bad either. The 30gb is the same price as the regular 20gb ipod ($299) and it's smaller and thinner. I can vouch for all of this stuff - my friend just bought one.

I found a great quotation that sums the whole thing up succintly:

    The new iPod is "really not a video iPod - it's an iPod with video," says Mr. Greengart. Buyers will still find the chief value in the audio features. "The screen isn't large enough to be a real video iPod," he says.

Fat People - are you one? Or are you one who makes fun of fat people? Or are you one who looks beyond the superficial?

As part of research for her role as an obese woman in Shallow Hal (2001), Gwyneth wore the 200 pound latex "fat" suit she used for the film to a bar where people refused to make eye contact with her and treated her rudely. She said that this experience made her saddened by the injustice faced by overweight people in society.

Richard Roeper, columnist for the Chicago Sun Times and Ebert's partner on the movie critic show, Ebert and Roeper, caused a national controversy over a column he published in July 2005 wherein he ranted that the images of the women sized 6-12 in the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty were "too chunky" for him to look at in public. He promptly received a few thousand pieces of hate mail for it.

I personally won't treat fat people any different from anyone else. Why would I? They ARE like everyone else. Obesity, I think, is a result of lack of information on how to be healthy, lack of will to be healthy, or lack of ability to become healthy. If I don't know why someone is fat, how can I judge her or him based on assumptions of mine? I treat obesity honestly. IF someone has the ability to start living healthy, I would encourage that person to start doing it. I wouldn't blame her, though, any more than I would blame any one else if she didn't do it because of laziness. Everyone is lazy, not just fat people. So once again, there is no reason to treat them differently just cause they don't become skinnier even if they could. Skinny people have it good; they can eat the same thing fat people eat, and not get fat. How is that fair? It isn't, but I don't really care for the word "fair" anyway. Life is tough. Fair never comes into play unless it's forced into a situation. I certainly never expect things to be fair. How can they be when everyone is looking out for number one?

god, why do i get onto tangents?

A mathematical relation between The Simpsons and every other American animated sitcom

Imagine the difficulty of describing the brilliance of "The Simpsons" as a vector we will call V_x. That is, a line of certain length pointing in a certain direction. Now imagine another vector (V_y) with equal magnitude (length) but opposite direction. That vector is the difficulty of saying that the importance and quality of "The Simpsons" is leaps and bounds above any other animation sitcom in the United States. To gather any significant meaning from this we need to establish a coordinate system. Both vectors lie on the x-axis. My coordinate system says that difficulty increases with higher x-values. 0 equals neutral difficulty; It's neither difficult nor easy. Negativity increases as difficulty decreases.

KNOWING all that, now you can easily deduce from the following relation the purpose of this post.

V_x > V_y

Love? No Way!

How long does it take to learn to love? Longer than you believe. People think they know it all. Especially when it comes to "love". They believe they are "in" it. They believe they love someone more than anything. Especially after several years of being with the same person. But when something happens, and they end the relationship, their true, underlying selfishness is revealed.

Case in point, someone I know had the same thing happen to him. What did he immediately do? Seek the affection of someone else. What did she do? Same thing.

Why did they do this? Simply because they felt unwanted, unneeded. Their pride was hurt. They needed to feel like they had value. You may argue that this is an indelible and good part of being human. I contest that vehemently. I believe firmly that one's value can only be increased through a selfless love for others. That means NOT trying to make yourself feel better by seeking affection of other people.

Graduate Students

Janeth, Alex, and I met graduate students today. We decided to go to a BBQ for two recently graduated students. It was one of the best things we could have done.

Though I don't remember names very well, it might be to my advantage to leave out names anyway because some people don't like their stories and names put out on the internet. So I will randomly assign names to these people we met.

Seeing graduate students is a bit like seeing small kids in business suits. You wonder what reason could those kids possibly have to be wearing suits? They're kids, they should be playing. Well, it's the exact opposite with grad students. They are fully grown adults in their late twenties, yet they act like little kids, very smart little kids. Things I learned: Spanish is a kick-ass language and I'm lucky to be able to speak it with only the tiniest accent (well, that's a lie). One must work according to his morals or else he will suddenly find himself unhappy with what he is doing. Corporate America and its subsidiaries all over the world are money-grubbing weasels.

I know this because a graduate student here is doing urban planning as her major. If you've ever played SimCity, you know what she does. She is in charge of designing how a city will be built, how it will operate, how it will thrive as a community. It's a very complex major, so she is focusing on the political, legislative aspect. She is learning how to design rules and ordinances to keep a city under control and safe.

Anna, the name I have assigned to this graduate student, was telling us of a job she had after completing her MIT bachelor's degree with the pharmaceutical giant Glaxo Smith Kline. She loved her job because it was a high pressure environment where she was constantly using her knowledge to advance the interests of the company. But then, she was assigned to Singapore, I think, where she got to see a bit of the other side of the story. These big pharmaceutical companies exploit the indigenous people who collect the native plants to make these medicines in order to, of course, make money. And Anna realized that what she was doing was wrong, and she couldn't do it anymore. She is now eager to go to a specific third world country, I forget which one, to help create better structured societies of indigenous people that have been decomposing since the American businesses have treaded over their homelands. The thing I most remember that she said was this: "Whenever you are doing a job, the most important thing to ask yourself is: 'Am I morally square with what I am doing?' Because if I'm not, then one day I will look around and realize I have wasted several years of my life doing something I can't believe I ever did." And you won't be able to live it down.

A Blog Renewed

Consider this a new beginning to my blog.
This is primarily for the benefit of my parents, so that they can catch up with what I am doing and make sure I'm doing fine - although, considering my first day at Project Interphase, I might not be that fine.
Fortunately there were no hassles at the airport. I had to lug over a hundred pounds of luggage for about a mile around the airport before I found a Project Interphase rep, but that's the way it goes. I met Tyco and Hanzel on the way to MIT. Tyco is a tall, African-American male from California. He's into computers. Hanzel sounds like he's from Mexico or Puerto Rico. He's very white.
I almost immediately found Janeth. As soon as the elevator door opened on the fifth floor, there she was. She helped me settle into my room (a single!). Afterwards, we met up with a guy named Steven and walked around campus a little bit, looking for other Interphasers. All was to no avail. We ended up sitting on a couch in the Student Center.

After all of our planned activities, the night was scheduleless and free to use for whatever we needed. I needed a fan. Janeth and I decided to go to Target to acquire one. We walked to the Kendall T subway station about a half mile due east of our dorm. We took the T to the Orange Line crossing with the intent of taking the orange line down to Wellington. Due to construction, we were stopped one stop short. We had to take a bus the rest of the way. Keep in mind the night is continuing to fall as we do this. At the Wellington stop, we realized that we had to walk another half mile or so, crossing a busy bridge. It was around 10:00. We walked across, then down the street. We came upon the Target with its glowing red sign. The parking lot was mostly empty, but there were at least thirty cars in the parking lot. We walked up to the doors, expecting them to slide open, but they didn't. I glanced down at the store hours sign. It closed at 9 on Sundays. We had gone all the way to Target for nothing.

By this time, it had become 10:20. We decided to head back. We went back across the bridge to the bus station. We had no idea which bus to take, so we took the next one we found. After awhile, I became increasingly unsettled. It seemed like we were going the wrong way. I asked a passenger on the bus if this bus went to MIT. He said he had no idea. I asked the bus driver, and he laughed. Then he grimly told me I was going the wrong way. At the next stop he let us down and told us to walk back to the other station. I began panicking. It was around 10:40 and we were far from MIT with little knowledge of how to get back. I had no idea if we had curfew, but I knew the Interphase directors would not look kindly on students coming in late at night. Of course, the worst thoughts ran through my head: removal from Interphase, police sanctions, EXPULSION FROM MIT. Janeth was no help either. She kept making comments like, "I think there's no curfew, but I can't be sure."

We started to walk briskly, occasionally breaking into stride, back to where I thought we were supposed to go. I thought the guy meant the bus station, which was probably a mile and a half away. That was a long long way to walk so late at night. But as we were walking I remembered he had said something about a firestation. I stopped and looked around for a fire station and there one was. We crossed the street and as we came to the firestation we saw a bus stop and a bus coming up. As soon as it rolled up, I immediately asked the driver how to get to MIT. She said we were on the right bus, and to just take the orange line to Downtown Crossing where we would get off and take the Red line. I breathed a sigh of relief and we sat down. The ride seemed to take eternity, but that may be only because I kept looking at my watch and seeing the minutes tick by. It was 11:00 when we got to the station. We immediately pushed our way through, bought our tokens(in my hurry, I almost forgot to get eighteen dollars in change.), and got onto the subway, which rolled into the station a couple of minutes later. We got to the Red Line intersection and rushed to the platform. The Red line subway train did not get there for another ten minutes. We got on, and it was 11:20. We finally got to Kendall, and I breathed another sigh of relief. I was home. Truly, that was the first time I felt the profundity of being a part of this community. I am at home.

After an interminably long walk, we arrived at the steps of Burton-Conner. We slipped inside, took the elevator upstairs, and safely arrived at our dorm rooms.

Nothing became of our journey except the chance to learn about each other, about transporation in Boston, and about living another night without a fan. Two days later, I still have no fan.

My Final Statement - Let him Rest in Peace

Despite the imperfections inherent in all humans including himself, the Pope has strived to mend the bonds we share as a human race in the hope that we will overcome these imperfections. To him, it is painful to watch and know of the misery we cause each other because of fervent ideological beliefs, rancor, or ignorance. In the face of great resistance from those all around, he met with leaders from the many different faiths including the Dalai Lama, rabbis at Jewish synagogues, and the leaders of the Orthodox Church in order to bring together the human family. He gave us a poignant example of what it is to be Christian: when almost assassinated, he met with his assailant and spoke with him. He felt no anger, only love. I and the other billion Catholics feel like we've lost a father, a shepherd, and a source of hope. There is a void in the Church, a void only he could fill. But his legacy is one that won't die with his body. It will, I hope, imbue all humans with a sense of duty - a duty to live their lives to serve others. That is the only thing life is worth living for - for the sake of others. I hope the Servant of the Servants of God rests in peace.

The Pope is close to death and close to God

This is devastating news. When I heard the reports, I quickly said, "No, this isn't happening." and turned away. The pope is more than a person, far more than a person. He is a model. He has lived the way we all should live - living to protect life. I've never had anyone close to me die. Even now, I am always on edge - waiting, waiting for the report. How will I react? I know I will cry. I now feel like crying. This stems not from emotion, but from logic. This man is one of the most influential in mankind's history. His death will reverberate through the nations in this world. It reverberates in my mind and in my heart. While my heart aches, my head can't comprehend. He can't die. But he will, and I'm crushed. More than being a true Catholic, he was a true citizen of this planet and extended the virtues of mankind to everyone. This world will sorely miss him, and so will I.

Update on Terry Shiavo

It seems that Terry Shiavo is nearing the end of her life. That is, her body is nearing the end of its life. It is important to remember, especially now that her body is slowly shutting down, that the person her family and husband knew has been dead for fifteen years. What remains is finally following in Terry's footsteps. Of great comfort to everyone watching this bit of drama unfold is her final communion administered by "the revered Roman Catholic priest", Thaddeus Malanowski of the Diocese of St. Petersburg. That probably did nothing for Mrs. Shiavo's soul, but it did wonders for our consciences. We can now, more than her, rest in peace, knowing she has been cleared with God.

Personally, Catholicism is a comforting ideology. It creates a heirarchy of trust, entrenched in thousands of years of history. It's solid, it's a foundation, and it's a shelter. Whenever death seems close by, going to church can really ward off its effects. I've tried Protestant churches - there's no warmth, no heart, no sense of wonder and awe. Cathedrals really add to the effect, and those new-fangled meeting places where many new Protestant congregations worship don't really make you feel at one with God. I think I like the fact that I was raised in the Catholic Church. I bet Mrs. Shiavo's parents feel that way, too. I doubt Terry cares either way.

Update on Jeff Weise

Since my post on Rise of the Dead forum, the site administrator has released a message on Jeff and has removed his posts from the website. That is quite unfortunate, considering Jeff was an excellent writer. Especially considering his educational background. Fully 1/3 of his community is below the poverty line. His school is one of the worst in the state. And despite this, he is an eloquent writer.

The Idiots in Charge of Music

I've liked Fiona Apple for a while. She released an album a long while back(like four years ago with the longest title of any album.ever. it starts "when the pawn hits the...."). But I really like her style. It's ..unconventional. But really good. Look at this story. We need ARTISTS not BUSINESSMEN in charge of the music business. http://www.mp3newswire.net/stories/5002/fiona.html

He was into the macabre...and?

As you all know by now, on Monday Minnesota native, Jeff Weise, shot his grandfather and his grandfather's companion before going to school with a shotgun and two handguns and killing nine people and wounding seven. Let us not be quick to condemn those who inflict pain upon others.


Relevant Facts:
1. His father committed suicide.
2. His mother suffers from head trauma due to a car accident and is in a nursing home.
3. He lived with his grandfather.
4. He wore black clothes and eyeliner and was teased at school.

Not satisfied with the news reports, I performed a little online investigation and unearthed snippets of his life. He was a talented writer. Under the username blades11, he penned several parts of several stories. He had begun writing a story prior to the murders, but had become discouraged by a lack of support for his story. The original contributors stopped responding on the forum, and in his final post before he died, he voiced his disappointment and commented that he "might disappear unexpectedly". The final message communicated to him from another user wished for things to be better.

How should I feel about this? Should I pity him? His victims? I make it a point never to pity anyone because I see that as absurd as judging someone. How am I fit to judge or pity anyone? What if I am the one who should be pitied or judged? A judgement I do make is that death a mournful, painful aspect of life. Certainly without it life would not be as sweet as it is, but it would also not be as bitter. Jeff's life and death remind me that death is close. It breathes on our necks, but hides when we flinch. It follows our footsteps and pauses when we do. It is always around the corner, but we never know when it will turn to meet us and greet us in person. When did Jeff realize he was going to kill himself? Did he ever know for sure he would? How did he muster the courage to pull the trigger? Those who are capable of killing themselves are among the bravest. It is not cowardice. It takes unbelievable will and strength to end one's life, and that garners my admiration. To be sure, my heart breaks when I imagine the misery Jeff's actions caused. I try to be a person who looks beyond my pain and look to the pain of others - trying to assuage their pain, carry their burdens on my back, if possible. He did the opposite - he created a heavy burden on the survivors of the dead. His personal pain must have been enormous, and my heart breaks for him, also. Personal pain, though, NEVER makes right the infliction of pain on others. I will close with a quote he placed after all his posts on the forum where he posted his stories.

The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear. And the oldest and strongest fear, is the fear of the unknown. -- H.P. Lovecraft

Relevant links:ABC News Report

Milk - It does a body good....or does it?!

This is unbelievable. Now that I think about it, it makes total sense, though. I mean, we drink a lot of milk as a nation. Yet, we have a very high rate of osteoporosis. It's because we drink all this milk, thinking we're doing good, and then we don't exercise at all. But now what of those Got Milk? ads. I bet those celebrities are embarassed for promoting a product that doesn't do what it was claiming to do. The worst part of all of this is that I'm one of those people that doesn't exercise a lot and drinks a lot of milk, thinking happily to myself, hehe, I'm like a rock. Ah jeez, now I have to get off my lazy ass and actually go outside and do something. And on a consistent basis! Ohhhh. The misery.

The Schiavo Crisis

So, what is the story? A 41-year-old woman whose cerebral cortex ("the thinking part of her brain") is gone has just been brought into the national spotlight. I don't believe that anyone who is incapable of thought is truly alive or even existing. This woman does not exist, and people - people who don't know her and never knew her - are now in a frenzy to keep her alive. The closest person to her, her husband, the man who became a nurse so that he could properly take care of her is completely confident that if she knew she were in this condition, she would not want to be "kept alive by artificial means." There have been people outside of the hospice she's lived in for five years holding signs that say "Terri's Only Crime: Marrying Michael" and "Let's stop feeding Michael Schiavo." What blatant hypocrisy. Life is precious only when it can be experienced. Terri Schiavo can not experience it and never will again. Let her die in peace and don't believe you have the right to make choices for someone you have never known.

Relevant Links: No Recovery Possible
Schiavo Timeline
CT Scan

Reduced-Sugar Cereals - Where's the Health Benefit?

I'm definitely a big cereal eater. It's been the staple (aka a noun) element of my diet for at least ten years. And I hate to admit that most of it has been calorific, sugary, carbohydrated cereal with some token nutrients added in. Well, I've begun changing my eating habits - taking care of myself. I've been eating a lot less fast food (once a month), only water and juice to drink, more fruits and vegetables, no more Ramen noodles (deep-fried in vegetable oil), and whole grain wheat bread. It seems like America is beginning to win a couple of battles in our war against our own gargantuan, bloated obesity problem. I've begun to see all my favorite cereals marked with big WHOLE GRAIN labels and even a whopping 75% less sugar (Cinnamon Toast Crunch, specifically). I've jumped on the bandwagon. I've only been eating those reduced sugar cereals in the hopes of maintaining a healthy diet. Man, what an idiot I am. I am referring to this. It basically says that there is really no difference between Splenda-ified cereals and their yummy, sugary counterparts. So I'm in a crisis. What should I do? What should we as Americans do? I suppose I'll buy true whole grain cereals like Total and Shredded Wheat, instead.

Iron Chef

Apparently, Iron Chef is a big deal to many people. My cousin watches it religiously, despite the language and cultural barriers inherent in a show made in Japan. It's hosted by an Asian dude, Kaga, who acts like a guy who's been in too many lame epic movies. But watching my first episode proved to be a thrilling experience. These people are incredibly talented cooks. Given only one hour to prepare five dishes that best represent the food item of the day, they come up with, judging by the reactions of the judges, some incredible food. I saw the episode featuring porcini mushroom. Judges change from episode to episode, and they are usually actors and actresses. Chizuru Azuma, a beautiful Japanese actress, was judging last night, and she is just breath-taking.

It's good to be here.

This is the sincere and humble weblog of Ernest Alba. I am a high school senior beginning the final semester of my high school career. It seems fitting that the transition to college comes with new responsibilities and the toughest workload I've ever had: French 4,Chem 2, macroecon, and BC Calc (integrals, that is). I'm glad for the work, though, because I hope it will give me the ability to succeed at MIT, my home for the next four years. Until I get this thing rolling, you can find me on my website