Desperately seeking a label

One thing I find inexplicable is the strong desire people have to "label" themselves. They make sure they wear and consume the "right" brands. They ensure they have the "right" look and walk and talk. They even make sure they have the "right" psychoses or ailments.

These thoughts were spurred by an article I read a few weeks ago by a woman claiming her relationship problems are due to her high IQ (intelligence quotient) and low EQ (emotional quotient).

Years ago, ADD / ADHD was a popular identifier, then dyslexia, asthma and now, it seems, autism. As more and more people are labeled and it becomes fairly normal, we then start hearing of epidemics and rising rates. I don't dispute that some genuinely have issues. My beef is with those who seek labels to abdicate responsibility for their actions, "Oh, it's not me, it's because I have / I am ******."

Ultimately, what we do or don't do is our responsibility. (As you might be able to tell, I am in a definite free-will mood, rather than a deterministic mood at the moment - might change tomorrow.)

Of course, we can't forget the repressed memories people had in the 80s. Later determined to be false and the result of memory implantation by the therapist.

Image gently borrowed from here.

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A difference of 50 years.

Here is the original trailer for Forbidden Planet:

This is a modern fan made one:

Presentation and packaging make a big difference.




Monsters from the Id.

J.J. Adams: What is the Id?

Morbius: It's an obsolete term. Once used to describe the elementary basis of the subconscious mind.

J.J. Adams: Monsters from the Id. Monsters from the subconscious.

The big machine - cubic miles of Klystron relays - enough power for a whole population of creative geniuses operated by remote control. Operated by the electromagnetic impulses of individual Krell brains.

Morbius: To what purpose?

J.J. Adams: In return, that machine would instantaneously project solid matter to any point on the planet, in any shape or color they might imagine ... for any purpose! Creation by mere thought.

Morbius: Why haven't I seen this all along?

J.J. Adams: Like you, the Krell forgot one deadly danger ... their own subconscious hate and lust for destruction. The beast. The mindless primitive.

Even the Krell must have evolved from that beginning. And so those mindless beasts of the subconscious had access to a machine that could never be shut down. The secret devil of every soul on the planet all set free at once to loot and maim and take revenge and kill!

Morbius: My poor Krell! After a million years of shining sanity they could hardly have understood what power was destroying them.

Yes, all very convincing but for one obvious fallacy - the last Krell died centuries ago But today, as we all know, there is still at large on this planet a living monster.

J.J. Adams: Your mind refuses to face a conclusion.

Morbius: What do you mean?

J.J. Adams: You still refuse to face the truth.

Morbius: What truth?

J.J. Adams: Morbius, that thing out there - it's you.

Morbius: You're insane!

J.J. Adams: We're all part monsters in our subconscious! So we have laws and religion.

Morbius: Let me go!

J.J. Adams: Here's where your mind was artificially enlarged. Consciously it still lacked the power to operate the great machine but your subconscious had been made strong enough!

Morbius: I won't hear you!

J.J. Adams: You've got to listen! Twenty years ago, when your comrades voted to return to Earth you sent your secret Id out to murder them! Not quite realizing it, of course, except maybe in your dreams.

Morbius: What man can remember his own dreams?

J.J. Adams: At least when we approached from space, you remembered enough to warn us off. But when you thought we were a threat to your little egomaniac empire your subconscious sent its Id monster out again! More deaths, Morbius. More murder!

Morbius: And now this too? Harm my own daughter?

J.J. Adams: But now she's defying you, Morbius - and even in you, the loving father, there still exists the mindless primitive ... more enraged and more inflamed with each new frustration. So now you're whistling up your monster again to punish her for her disloyalty and disobedience! And if you don't do something about it soon it's going to be coming right through that door.

Morbius: My evil self is at that door, and I have no power to stop it!

Dialogue leading to the climax of the film Forbidden Planet.

Image is of the Id monster from the film.

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"Are we there yet?"


"Oh, man. I'll have a beard!", Jason said stroking his imaginary beard.

You might think this exchange occurred during a long drive. It didn't. We had entered the mall to get JJ a haircut and this exchange occurred as we were walking toward the hair salon. Jason is 5 years old.

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"With books, I am promiscuous."

- Heather Sellers, Page After Page, Chapter 6: Sleeping With Books

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Word 97 limitation

Did you know that Word 97 can only display a maximum of 769 characters on a line before wrapping to the next line?

I found that out yesterday, when I was trying to format some debug data for printing. My font was Courier New, my font size was 2, my paper size to 11x17 in landscape mode with margins of 0.5". Yet, word insisted on wrapping my lines.

Fortunately Word 2000 does not have this limitation. It was able to print my data which had 1152 characters per line.

While I can just about read it, I wouldn't recommend doing so without a magnifying glass. It looks a lot like ASCII art and it is the general appearance, rather than the actual content that I am interested in at the moment.

     _/\_       __/\__
) . (_ _) .' (
`) '.( ) .' (`
`-._\(_ )/__(~`
) `-.______
/ `---._
( ,// ) \
`\/-. |
\ |
| jgs/VK |

ASCII art nabbed from here.

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Tears at half mast

When I was younger, probably 8 (maybe 9), I was in Cubs (the junior version of the Boy Scouts). I am pretty sure it was not my idea to go since none of my friends went. I suppose it was my dad's idea.

I loved my Cub book. I still have it. It is full of fun things to do (of course, maybe my idea of fun differs from most).

However, I found Cubs to be nothing like the book. The book was interesting, Cubs was not. I don't recall much of the year (maybe two) that I went (I only have a handful of specific memories).

[update 03-August-2007 @ 11:45, fix plural weeks into possessive week's]

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