Guest Blogger: TV Recommendations

Today I (belatedly--he got this to me days ago, and then I went out of town without posting it) welcome recurring guest blogger and good friend Bill Hill for some great TV reviews/recommendations. Bill blogs at Bill's Universe II.

From grz3gorz on freeimages.com.

TV shows are, to my mind, very interesting creatures. First off, a TV show is one of the highest-volume mediums that we have any familiarity with – or at least, it has the potential to be. Imagine a movie, for instance. How long does it take to watch a movie? Somewhere between an hour and two hours? Three hours, if it’s very long? But what if you were to watch every single episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer? The time expended would far exceed three hours. How about a novel? If you read a really thick novel without taking many breaks, you might have it finished in a handful of days. But if you’d like to see every episode of Law and Order, it’s probably going to take a number of weeks. This phenomenon depends on how many episodes and/or seasons a show contains, of course, but the potential is there. When you think about how high-volume a TV show can become, it’s mind-boggling.

I also think that TV shows are the most conducive medium for ownership and loyalty. Sure, there’s something nice about saying ‘my favorite movie,’ or ‘my favorite book.’ But with a TV show – likely due to the concept of a fan-base that adjusts its schedule accordingly – there’s a greater sense that you belong to a club. Saying ‘my show’ assigns not merely a product, but practically a lifestyle to your weekly routine. And for that reason, discovering a new show (whether it’s currently airing or not) can provide a truly magical sense of ownership and belonging.

So, here are some of the TV shows that I like (and that I would recommend). Most of these programs are old and off-the-air by now, so they might require some sort of DVD-shopping or Netflix-combing if you would like to see them. Or maybe you’ve seen them already, in which case I hope it is fun to read about shows that you already know. But mainly, thanks to Su for giving me an opportunity to write about stuff I like. That’s the big thing, right? (Ed: Awww, how sweet. You're very welcome!)

Comedy

The Dick Van Dyke Show
I’m always open to classic sitcoms, but repetitiveness is one of their major flaws. The Dick Van Dyke Show is a shining exception, however, in that its five seasons never fail to expand the mythos of the Petrie family. Among the many shrewd decisions that define the set-up for this program, the bifurcation of professional versus domestic spheres gives the show a healthy dose of variety. On the one hand, there’s Rob Petrie’s frenetic workplace – never short of memorable sidekicks and clever banter – and on the other hand, there’s his household: increasingly hilarious and relatable depending on where you are in the process of starting a family. I’ve always preferred the workplace episodes myself, but the interplay of these two spheres practically offers two sitcoms for the price of one.

Those worlds, however, by no means comprise the entirety of the series. Some episodes place emphasis on new characters and guest-stars, and thereby transcend either of the two most frequent settings. Likewise, several sequences manage to combine the separate coteries in Rob’s life, which affords lifelike enjoyment for anyone who’s grown to know the characters. Combine these perks with the show’s penchant for creative storytelling – including flashbacks, alternate perspectives, and dream sequences – and you’ve got a black-and-white sitcom which feels significantly more fresh and re-watchable than its counterparts.

Space Ghost Coast to Coast
If you aren’t familiar with its premise, you might regard this show as an uncanny experiment in animation. Here, Space Ghost (once the hero of an outdated Hanna-Barbera cartoon) is the host for his very own talk show, while his old nemeses serve as co-hosts. Real celebrities join the show via satellite feed, and some surreal development or other usually derails the interview. If nothing else, Space Ghost Coast to Coast represents an important turning point in the history of Cartoon Network, as it aided the transition toward the ‘adultification’ of animated shows and precipitated the development of Adult Swim.

Especially in later seasons, the program was less of a bizarre interview platform and more of an acid sequence that just happened to occur on a talk-show stage. Personally, I think that the surrealism went a little too far in later seasons, and that episodes began to rely too heavily on ‘random’ humor. What I love about the show, however, is its unique atmosphere – the talk-show set (suspended in the midst of outer space!) was accompanied by richly ambient white noise which would alternate from shot to shot. Moreover, the motley crew of characters (such as Moltar the masked lava-denizen, and Zorak the wise-cracking mantis, to name a couple) create a distinctive vibe of alien high-jinks, especially when paired with the very human and pedestrian content of the interviews. Overall, the first few seasons provide an unmistakable blend of adult angst and tasteful cartoonism – arguably one of Cartoon Network’s most inimitable undertakings.

Action/Sci-Fi

Mission Impossible
Sadly, the dignity of this franchise was maimed beyond repair following the advent of the Tom Cruise adaptation. If you want a reminder on the stylish substance that once defined Mission Impossible, though, simply revisit the series that started it all. The show wasn’t about explosions, chase sequences, or mindless action; it was about clever planning, deceptive performances, and psychological warfare. Sure, Barney Collier’s technological know-how added a flavor of scientific panache, but at its core, Mission Impossible was about a team of specialists who knew the villains better than the villains knew themselves – and was, in that sense, a dose of Colombo mixed with James Bond.

However silly the show could be, the crew of regulars was memorable beyond belief. Peter Graves played the sophisticated Jim Phelps (and that, if nothing else, is a better role to remember him for than ‘Do you like movies about gladiators?’), while Barbara Bain injected the role of Cinnamon Carter with a smooth, seductive flair. Both Martin Landau (always enjoyable) and Leonard Nimoy (always recognizable!) found eventual spots in the regular cast, while Greg Morris and Peter Lupus gave great embodiment to the brains and brawn of the team, respectively. My greatest complaint is that the show became too reliant on perfectly deceptive ‘masks’ – changing your face also changes your height? – but on that subject, the cheese-bad episodes of this show are still barrels worth of fun. Your mission, should you decide to accept it, is to check out this series and find out how much classier the franchise used to be.

Star Trek: The Original Series
It’s hard to say anything fresh about Star Trek, because really, what hasn’t been said? But if there’s anything to note, it’s possibly that Star Trek has become buried beneath its more recent incarnations. Our associations with the show, at this point, probably involve nerdy technology, a diverse and verisimilar culture of co-existing species, and a number of sociopolitical soapboxes predicated on some supposed scientific principle or other. It would be incorrect to say that The Original Series lacked any relation to those associations, but they were nicely veiled by character-driven amusement. At least by today’s standards, the show is campy enough that it seems to value entertainment over purported innovation, and watching it is a great reminder that the franchise can be fun rather than boring.

You’ve probably heard about ‘The Trouble with Tribbles,’ of which the merit is quite well-earned. What doesn’t it have? It’s got Shatner at his hammiest, Spock at his Spockiest, Klingons, gimmick aliens, and arguably the finest hour for both Lieutenant Uhura and Mr. Scott. I’ll also recommend ‘The Doomsday Machine,’ which pelts us with a charming rhythm of surprises from start to finish, and ‘Spectre of the Gun,’ which offers one of the most practical life-lessons I have ever encountered in a TV show. With Star Trek, it’s usually not a case of ‘Have you seen it?’ Rather, it’s ‘How many episodes have you seen?’ – so if you haven’t already, be sure to watch as many as you can.

Animation/Kids

Mighty Morphin Power Rangers
This is a show about costumed superheroes, techno-babbling androids and giant dinosaur mechas – all pitted against dastardly aliens and farcical monsters, B-movie super-villains and intergalactic wizardry. If that doesn’t hook you, then you and I are probably pretty different, because Mighty Morphin Power Rangers shows flashes of mastery over TV archetypes. In short, I don’t want to watch a show about a lawyer navigating the grey areas of the legal system, nor do I enjoy dramas about tormented, booze-addled authors – you need only give me an archetypal premise of cartoonish proportions, and you’ll undoubtedly renew my faith in the power of storytelling.

With these Power Rangers, we’ve got archetypes out the wazoo. The premises are seldom more complex than Destroy the Kaiju, and the characters’ blatant moral allegiances are outdone only by the crisp, sparkling colors of their outfits. The production quality, meanwhile, is low enough that you can practically reproduce the stories with your action figures, and yet high enough that you’ll keep returning for inspiration. In that regard, the original broadcast was an ingenious, toy-selling trap for kids, and the show remains captivating for those who are young at heart. The fact that a teen-sitcom was somehow sandwiched between these monster showdowns creates a pastiche that is both endearing, and peculiar to the glorious 90s.

Dexter’s Laboratory
Even if you’ve never watched this series, it’s likely you’re familiar with Dexter himself – a preternaturally intelligent child, best known for the machine-ridden facility behind his bookcase. True, the main character is a self-proclaimed boy genius, but don’t let that fool you – being merely ten years old, or thereabouts, Dexter is a hilariously relatable entity whose misadventures are characteristic of childhood. The show is much less focused on science and technology than it is on the brutal vicissitudes of youth and/or adolescence, and Dexter’s inventions merely provide the engine for those twisted and comical themes.

The show can boast a variety of positives, but most of them stem from its perfect balance between innocence and cynicism – that is to say, despite the aforementioned naiveté of the protagonist, the animators seize every opportunity to paint a world of surreal cruelty. In the episode ‘Dexter vs. Santa’s Claws,’ for instance, the creators were not content to expiate Dexter’s wrongdoings with a conventional Christmas lesson. Rather, Santa Claus himself concludes the episode by claiming that the true meaning of Christmas is – wait for it – the presents. The show is rife with other instances of absurdity, catastrophe, futility, non-graphic deaths, and unhappy endings. There are too many to list, but the final result is a truly rare (and endlessly refreshing) equilibrium between idealism and skepticism. Side note: Go for the first two seasons only. The show was rebooted after that, and one hundred percent of the charm was lost.

Daytime Television

Judge Judy
I’m tempted to say that this show is a guilty pleasure. Like, aren’t you only supposed to watch Judge Judy if you’re unemployed and living on a couch? But honestly, there’s very little that’s ‘guilty’ about it – Judge Judy herself is a deliberately, hilariously, shamelessly, delightfully cantankerous model of the legal process, and the entire program orbits seamlessly around her. It’s quite possible to ignore the litigants – ignore the details, ignore the evidence, and ignore the testimonies – and still have a perfectly ducky half-hour from Judge Judy’s mannerisms alone. Certain rustic, dinner-table phrases (such as put your hand down, I don’t care, you’re an idiot, and please don’t have children) make their way into an actual replica of a lawsuit, and thereby make it a little easier to laugh at everything than to cry.

Questioning the show is just as fun as watching it. Oftentimes, Judge Judy will point to her watch and claim that she has other places to be. Like, where? Recording another show? And why does everyone stand up when Judge Judy enters the courtroom? Are we all rising for the honorable daytime television star? You can watch the show for ten years straight and still have new oddities, such as those, to ponder. Sheindlin’s court reads like an I’ll be the judge, you be the lawyer game played by six-year-olds, and to see it executed with such gravity and emotion is about as funny as watching a pie fight.

Jeopardy!
If contemporary game shows are rock music and teen pop, then Jeopardy! is the lone sample of sweet, classical music. There are no glitzy wheels, meretricious light-bulbs, or hostesses in feather headdresses – merely three staid podiums marked by the contestants’ names, and a cool, reflective floor beneath the clue-laden display board. A curmudgeon or two might claim that Jeopardy! is easier than it once was – and perhaps they’re right. But at least it is a quiz show, and not a glorified guessing game (my favorite alternate title for Deal or No Deal is Guess What’s In The Box?).

The main perk of the show, of course, is that you – right there on your sofa! – get to be one of the players. If you can blurt out a correct answer before any of the contestants do, then score one for you! If you’re a huge trivia nerd, then you can keep tabs on yourself. You can follow your own score, and even notate your all-time record. You can also say to yourself (while you’re waiting anxiously for the boring local news to end, so that Jeopardy! can start) that you’ll actually learn something, rather than watch some cathartic drivel. On top of that, it’s easy to pick somebody to root for. Don’t like that guy with the bad bow-tie and the glasses? Then suddenly you’ve got a dog in the race! And when all is said and done, a simple quiz show generates a lot more investment than it has any right to.

Some Quick Mentions

Arrested Development, for its hilarious entanglement of madcap stories, and Impractical Jokers for its ability to make you laugh so hard that you cry. The Perils of Penelope Pitstop if you can tolerate so-stupid-it’s-funny animation, but I doubt it. Mr. Bean and Monty Python’s Flying Circus for anyone who enjoys British humo(u)r. Little Einsteins if you want your pre-schoolers to watch something and be quiet. Now it’s probably time for me to be quiet.

On the Sport Involving Feet

This post is brought to you by recurring guest blogger Bill Hill: friend, former classmate, Twitter user extraordinaire (@MrBillHill), and all-around good guy. He was looking for a spot to empty his brain and I was looking for someone to write things for Cheekyness while I'm NaNoWriMo-ing. Bill occasionally blogs at Bill's Universe II.

Part of me feels annoyed when I look at this cartoon. It assumes that every American is bored by the game of soccer/football, which is obviously untrue. As much as ESPN may be hawking and exaggerating the overall effect, it is true that soccer/football is gaining popularity here in the States. If there’s anything I like about this cartoon, though, it’s the idea that the sociopolitical element is completely subverted in favor of a value judgment. The soccer/football player frames the sport as primarily a cultural or linguistic product, and the American’s response unveils the needless artificiality therein. It’s that idea I’ll be discussing today – the idea that soccer/football is first and foremost a sport, and that all its geopolitical entanglements only limit our ability to evaluate the game.

There are plenty of angles to start with, of course, but the best place to begin is the name.

1. The name of the sport should be used to relay information, and not to communicate any sort of social, cultural, ideological, or geopolitical viewpoint.

I think everyone understands by now that soccer is virtually a term used only in America.  When we were in second grade, this was almost like a trivia item – ‘Did you know that soccer is called football in England?’ In 2015, though, this is pretty common knowledge. And of course, it doesn’t only apply to England.

What’s really odd, though, is how the Difference-of-Name has actually begun to bother some people. I recall one macro image, for example, in which an indignant soccer ball cried out to an American football, ‘Find your own name!’ Moreover, the term soccer is sometimes treated with contempt and mockery. Certain English commentators, if I’m not mistaken, treat the word as if it’s some kind of cultural handicap: ‘Ha! You Americans use the term soccer! What’s wrong with you people?’

Guess what? When it comes to the terms soccer and football, both are useful terms.

Football is useful because:
a. this term is a decidedly accurate description of the general game-play
b. this term (or some linguistic variation) is used in the majority of global nations

Soccer is useful because:
a. it is a long-standing British term which originally referred to Association Football
b. it prevents unwanted confusion (particularly in the U.S.) between soccer-football and American football

The term soccer does not exist as a symbol of geopolitical defiance, nor are those who use the term typically ignorant of the alternate name. 

On one hand, the term soccer still existed in England for the better part of the twentieth century – therefore the idea that soccer is an American invention is nothing short of an old wives’ tale. On the other hand, anyone who thinks that this is a ‘stubborn America’ issue – that America should ‘adapt’ by phasing out the term soccer – needs to remember that there would be needless confusion with regard to American football. It would be like saying, ‘The nation of Mexico must adapt, and start using the English word see instead of ver!’ Besides how utterly presumptuous that would be, it would also be inconsiderate toward the potential confusion between see and sí. Therefore it is not stubbornness or ignorance which lets the term soccer survive in America – again, most people know by now that the term football is much more common – rather, it is practicality.

When someone calls the sport soccer, then, try and remember this: It is needlessly close-minded and combative to argue over what term they should be using instead. Think of it like this: A French-speaker approaches an English-speaker and says to them, ‘Bonjour!’ It would be incredibly unnecessary for the English-speaker to reply, ‘You are the only country in the world that has developed the term Bonjour! How dare you use such an unconventional phrase!’ With soccer/football, it is the same; the name of the game should summon the concept of the sport without inviting any sort of cultural/geopolitical criticism.

But I’m sad to say that the issue extends far beyond the name of the sport:

2. Any judgment concerning the game of soccer/football applies merely to the sport itself; it is not a comment on any sort of cultural or geopolitical issue.

Unfortunately, our society seems to have bought into this tiresome philosophy: ‘If you decide you aren’t interested in the game of soccer/football, it means you are xenophobic – too stubborn and close-minded to enjoy something culturally different.’ Maybe if there were someone who refused to watch a single minute of soccer/football on television (simply because it was unfamiliar), then this philosophy might apply. If we’re being intelligent and realistic, however, we know that isn’t what people mean when they say they don’t enjoy soccer/football. They’re making a judgment about the game, and saying (in so many words), ‘The game of soccer/football is a relatively uninteresting procedure.’

If this were a doctoral dissertation, I would probably conduct a statewide survey to illustrate the idea. Since this is a blog post, though, I’ll give you my own personal analysis of the sport:

I believe that the game of soccer/football is relatively uninteresting. The top-tier players clearly exhibit impressive athleticism, but essentially, the game itself provides a lackluster showcase for their skill-set. The most ‘exciting’ plays are often those where the athletes maneuver the ball past their opponents; unfortunately, the vast majority of these plays do not culminate in a direct scoring attempt (and most often, are eventually followed by a change of possession). The result is that even the athletes’ more impressive motions are usually without significant consequence. While successful goals are often entertaining (and sometimes spectacular), these goals do not occur commonly enough to enrich the suspense of the overall game-play. Essentially, the extended periods of inconsequential activity (as well as the fluid alteration of ball-possession) limit the game’s ability to demand attention and/or engagement. I watch the World Cup every four years to follow the interesting playoff narrative, but as for the sport itself, it provides little in the way of entertainment. 

Don’t get me wrong – I’m not trying to convince you that soccer/football is uninteresting. I have plenty of friends who truly enjoy soccer/football, and I respect their individual tastes. I’ve only written that paragraph to illustrate the nature of sports-related judgments – judgments apply only to the game. Did I mention anywhere that soccer/football is uninteresting because it is popular in Europe? – Did I ever say that soccer/football was unwelcome in America? – Was there any comparison between soccer/football and more ‘Americanized’ sports? No, no, and no. The judgments relate to the game, and everyone should be free to make those judgments. Picture it this way: Someone says they don’t want any rice with their dinner, because they aren’t very fond of rice. Imagine how ridiculous it would be if someone replied, ‘Aha! So you disapprove of Eastern culture, eh?’ Not only would that be absurd, but you would also probably be suspicious about the cultural attitude of the person who said it.

I already know how some people would respond, though: ‘You may think that your judgment is based on the sport, but your judgment is actually a result of American indoctrination. Without being surrounded by a xenophobic American culture, you would have no notion that soccer/football is any less interesting than other sports.’

Wrong, wrong, and wrong. Now once again, if I were submitting this post as an article for an academic journal, I would conduct some sort of sociological research. But for the purpose of this blog post, I can look to myself for the counterargument; essentially, I am Walking Disproof of the ‘You’re-Bored-Because-It’s-Foreign’ argument.

How? Well, I look to the game of Rugby. Growing up, I had never even heard of Rugby. It wasn’t like soccer, which was part of every school’s athletic program; it was a totally foreign product. I think I first saw a game of Rugby when I was a High School Freshman – before then, it was nothing more than a rarely-heard encyclopedia term. But when I saw it, I sort of fell in love with it.

Rugby is fast, tense, and exciting. Not every possession results in a score, but even the less eventful possessions are marked by fast pace, hard hits, and desperate scrambles. The players tend to converge on the ball, giving the sport a highly contingent narrative centered around the game-play’s nucleus. If a player can get a solid run headed into the open field, there’s enough risk and variability that the game-play is suspenseful as a result.

At least in my case, then – and I imagine in others’ – the ‘Foreign = Boring’ rule holds no water. I don’t find soccer/football uninteresting because of its cultural context; I find it uninteresting because of what happens on the field. The judgment of sports, then, should be entirely separate from the geopolitical landscape – and we shouldn’t resent people’s feelings on soccer/football any more than we should resent what someone’s favorite color is.

What’s really funny is this: Xenophobia toward American football seems to be encouraged and celebrated here in the States. ‘Pah! American football,’ people will say. ‘Just a stubborn little American habit – nothing interesting about it at all.’ These are the same people who like to remind us (and flaunt before us) that ‘Soccer is the world’s most popular sport!’ Interestingly, their own logic suggests that they’re the xenophobic ones. If American football is so different – so quaint and unusual when weighed against other global hobbies – then doesn’t an aversion to American football suggest sticking within the global comfort zone? – that is, refusing to enjoy something only because it is culturally unfamiliar? It’s almost like going to the obscure village of North Ninsasprinsapo, and eating some food you have never heard of before: roast baganakwan. You taste it, dislike it, and then say ‘How close-minded the people of this village are! They eat this peculiar food, and don’t eat what the rest of the world eats!’ What you’re really doing is proving how close-minded you are. If you’re desperate to prove how sensible ‘the rest of the world’ is, you’ve obviously got a problem accepting your own surroundings. This is ultimately why we should refrain from entangling our sports-related judgments with the sociopolitical climate – an inability to distinguish these concepts is a kind of stubbornness in itself.

That’s probably a good stopping point, even though there are plenty of other things to say. If I had another blog post to write, I might explore why people treat soccer/football as such a competitive force with other sports, when really we are free to love any number of games without needing a competitive hierarchy. I think that is a blog post for another day, though. And for now, I leave you with the immortal words of Sigmund Freud, who reminds: ‘Sometimes a soccer ball is just a soccer ball.’

Guest Post: Y is for Youthful

Today's guest post fits oh-so-beautifully into the grad school theme, for all that it was written by my undergraduate cousin. Amanda is a returning guest blogger, and is occasionally known as "Baby Cousin" here at Cheekyness (yes, even though she's nearly-22 and quite a bit taller than I!).

A few weeks ago, I went to Build-A-Bear with my friend Hermes. He saw that BAB was offering new “ponies” from My Little Pony, and he just HAD to go and build one (Yes, he’s a bronie). Thus, he invited me along, and we departed on a trip to the mall. This mall was close to Indianapolis, and once we made it, it. Was. Awesome. I’d never built my own bear before, and it was so fun picking out a bear and clothing, and just hanging with Hermes.

So, Indianapolis. I don’t get to regularly venture out of Greenfield or Muncie, where I go to school. Indy is more reserved for trips to the zoo, or Gen Con. But on the way there, we saw a billboard for this indoor trampoline park! They have dodge ball competitions, or you pay by the hour to just jump with friends or goof off. Hermes says we HAVE to do it, and I agree. Then we start talking about stuff in general that we’ve never done before. Hermes mentions that he’s never gone to the casino, despite turning 21 last month.

From Su: This family is all about
the musicals. Okay, so only about
half of us are. Whatever. Source.

This gets me thinking—I have a car, and as a student, I’m not rich, but I do have some “play money,” as my mom calls it; enough money to go out to eat with my boyfriend a few times a month, or to do whatever with. And it hits me—I haven’t really made any plans to go and DO anything recently. Maybe a big part of it is school taking over my life, but I need to take a step back and be YOUTHFUL! And not just 2am trips to Steak n Shake; but take pictures, and go out and do things with friends.

The next week, Hermes and I made plans to go to the casino, and hopefully at the end of the week, I’ll make a trip up to Chicago’s Broadway with my boyfriend to see Big Fish the Musical. And a trip to the indoor trampoline park is in the works. My lesson in this blog post? Be youthful. Go and do something in your city you’ve never done before.

It might just be awesome.

Guest Post: X is for My Generation

Today's guest blogger is that guy who lives in my house. He's been seen round Cheekyness during the A to Z Challenge before: He's the brains behind last year's X and Z posts. (He's a bit disgruntled that I won't let him have Z this time around.) This is also Chadwick's X post for today, and you can visit him at Occasional Scholar.

Time Magazine cover from June
9, 1997. Not long after the
youngest Gen X-ers entered
adulthood. Source: Time.

Class: A Guide Through the American Status System (1983), by Paul Fussell, describes a group of people who want to pull away from class, status and money in society and labels them X. Douglas Coupland wrote the fictional work Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture (1991) and called it that because his characters fit the description in Fussell's book. The media labeled America's youth Generation X, because they saw the elements of Coupland's characters in them. But things changed.

Forbes says we might be in trouble. Edutopia says we're a sentence fragment that needs to be handled with care. US News tries to delve into the complexities of identifying ourselves along generational lines. An opinion piece talks about the impact of my generation becoming politically influential at the same time as the next one (and we're smaller than they are). Beliefs drive our lives for good or ill. Trying to quiet our minds with all the many voices of media blaring every moment (including this drivel I am writing), then trying to live with intention in the midst of a reactionary society, is a challenge when we are making the best of choices. What choices are we making?

Guest Post: V is for Valour

Today's post is by returning guest blogger Paula.

Val-or: Noun: Boldness or determination in facing great danger, especially in battle; heroic courage; bravery. Origin: 1350-1400 Middle England

Hello! My name is Paula and I am back to guest blog for Su! I chose this letter for multiple reasons, but the first one is this: I am currently OBSESSED with the BBC America show Merlin. Though the show no longer runs, the lessons that I have learned from the two seasons I have watched so far are really helping me get through college. The last few days of school are coming my way and I am getting really anxious. The amounts of assignments I have coming up are alarming, but there is one thing I can keep in mind: Valour means to go bold or go home, if you want to put it into modern terms. And that was exactly what I am going to do. And that is what I think you should do, too. I have no idea what is going on in your life, but I know that, if you are going through a tough time, thinking like a Knight of Camelot might just get you somewhere.

From cakeykate on stock.xchng.

Now, you might not be facing a fire-breathing dragon or a high-powered Warlock, but you might have to face another long day at work or school. You might have to pay those bills you’re struggling to pay or you might just have to face that in-law. Whatever your battle is, take it in strides and think like a Knight. I can almost guarantee you that those knights were not the bravest when they looked their competition straight in the eye, but they had an honour to withhold, and they were going to do just that. You might not have an honour to withhold, but you do have something to prove to yourself. You can do it, you will make it, and that person may be there tomorrow but it doesn’t mean you have to listen to EVERYTHING they say. (Unless that person is your boss, and if that’s the case, well…carry on.) The Knights of Camelot were noble men, but what doesn’t make you noble, the fact that you don’t wear a symbol on your chest? You can be completely noble to yourself every single day; all you have to do is take a deep breath and go.

I have to take my own advice here, which is why I am sharing this with you, but I wanted to let you know that you can make it, too. No matter what your “dragon” is, you get to face it with an Excalibur of your own. Personally, my Excalibur is going to be my books and my mind and my (awful) time management. What is your Excalibur? Who are your fellow Knights? Are you more of a Lancelot or a Percival? Either way, remember, you’re doing this task; you’re facing this “dragon” with valour and dignity, pride and accomplishment. You’ve already been knighted, now all you have to do is face the dragon.

Good luck, my fellow Knights.
~Paula ☺

Guest Post: U is for Universe

Today's guest blogger is my friend Kathryn, who has blogged at Cheekyness once before.

I like the idea of the universe. I, for the most part, like being allowed to exist, most days. I like the variety of it all; different planets, different climates, possibly different plant and animal life.

From Chemtec on stock.xchng.

I like the stars in the sky, the moon and its phases. When I walk out with the precious pup into the backyard at night, I look up at the sky. Sometimes – but rarely, since I live in the desert – the sky is overcast and cloaked in mystery. But on most nights I can look up into the starry, moonlit sky and instantly feel my neck and shoulders relax. The comic strip “Rose is Rose” calls it a garbage moment, for when the characters take the garbage out at night. But it is not garbage to me. It is a moment when I am aware of the greatness of my Creator. And it is a moment when I feel my smallness in the whole scheme of the universe. It is a moment of cool air after a hot day, a moment of beauty after the garbage life throws at us.

But I am growing quite weary of life in this universe. I find that the “you” is being dropped from the whole universe concept. It is more and more, and even more, about only “me”.

Born a Baby Boomer, my generation was tagged “the Me Generation”. I beg to differ! I was taught manners to show respect to others. I was taught how to converse face to face and, by so doing, would know if my words were hurtful to another. I have learned to be compassionate toward others because we all have problems and bad days and need to be shown kindnesses. I was shown and have, through trial and error, learned the importance of personal integrity. As I grow older it is hard enough to get a good night’s sleep, and I have learned that integrity in my actions is a vital component to that end.

Yes, I am now THAT old! I am THAT out of place in this universe. The people in the know, that ubiquitous “they”, say the youth feel hopeless. Being the in-the-know and compassionate person that I am, I can understand that. Systemic abandonment, infinite tolerance, delayed adolescence, techno-relationships, the perilous nature of the family – these are all contributing factors to that feeling. The grey hair on my head tells me that the individual is the only one who can make changes in themselves.

Another reason I love the universe is that I love science fiction. Real science fiction, not fantasy or action-adventure in technological disguise. I love the hope and courage it represents. I love the stories of friendship among the space travelers. I truly love that it is a non-threatening place to explore our differences and safely discuss our problems.

One Star Trek episode, the real Star Trek, was titled “The Empath”. The three, Kirk, McCoy and Spock, were captured and beaten on an alien planet. A woman in wispy attire was brought in to see if she could heal Dr. McCoy. The woman had alien powers to bring a person’s wounds to her body, and her healthy body could heal them. But the healing process took much out of her, robbing her of strength and her own health. She was able to heal McCoy’s surface wounds with no problem. Her alien superiors then placed her with Captain Kirk. Kirk was injured much worse. The woman knew it could be her own death if she helped him, and that was just the dilemma her superiors wanted her to overcome. They wanted her to have enough empathy to heal the alien, the stranger, even at her own risk.

Has our universe lost its empathy? Its integrity? Its old-fashioned manners? As a country, a world, do we still stand for what is right, or do we look after our own benefit? Is the universe how you want it? Is it how you want to live?

Guest Blog: Q is for Questions

Today's guest blogger is my cousin Deborah Ann, who I love dearly and miss so very much! We both live in awesome places (her in the Bay Area; me in Austin) and so far neither of us has been willing to give up our awesome cities to move closer to the other one, which is a bummer. Deborah has also guest blogged here at Cheekyness once before. 

Recently, I had one of those life altering things happen. Ok, in the course of 12 weeks, I had about 4 life altering things happen.

First (and this one wasn’t a surprise), at age 35 I went back to school full time, and in January started my last quarter (with an over full-time load) and on April 6 I finished my Associates in Accounting.

Second, I went in for a physical and a lump was found at the base of my skull. It turned out to be a non-cancerous cyst, but had surgery to remove the golf ball sized cyst (it had been pushing my skull in, so we didn’t know how big it was) and afterwards I was headache free immediately for the first time in I don’t know how long!

Third, I got a call from my middle child, Anny’s, speech teacher that Anny had complained to her teacher that she couldn’t hear him during class if she wasn’t already looking at him. So they tested her hearing, and she is losing her hearing. She is showing in the severely hard of hearing range on the tests so far, but we have a few left.

Fourth, we noticed our youngest, Chris, was getting sick to his stomach a lot. After a lot of testing, and a bout that almost ended with him in a diabetic coma, he was diagnosed with cyclical vomiting syndrome, or CVS. Basically if he gets over excited, stressed, tired, anything—he gets migraines and starts vomiting…sometimes once, sometimes for six days straight.

A few other things have happened, but none not planned or as big as this. As you can probably surmise, all of these things have led to life changes. One—with only one question—will the cyst grow back, the others opening all sorts of questions:

• Do I start looking for work or go on to finish my Bachelor’s of Science degree?
• How quickly do I do all of this?
• Hearing aides or surgery (cochlear implants or other corrective measures)?
• How do we tell if a cycle is coming?
• What do we do with his schedule?
• Do we let him still play sports, go on playdates, spend the night at others' houses?
• Should I really get a job when I just might lose it because he has missed 36 days of school this year, and that doesn’t count the days they have sent him home in the middle?
• How do I let the girls keep their full lives when I need to keep him home and calm instead of running all over delivering them places and then picking them up again?

I have decided that trying to answer any of these questions just confuses me more, pops up more questions, and then answering another makes the first unanswered again. So the only question that I can answer is:
WHAT IS GOD’S PLAN FOR MY/OUR LIVES?

And the only way to answer it: on our knees in prayer.

Thank you for the chance to put it all out there, and organize somewhat my thoughts on paper.
God Bless You,
Deborah Ann

Guest Post: H is for Hashtag

Sometimes I have guest bloggers. It's fun for me. Today's guest introduces himself, so apart from mentioning he's a former classmate at UT, I won't give any more details.

Hello, my name is Bill Hill. To-day I am the guest blogger for Cheekyness, Incorporated.
I suppose it is best to say a few things about myself before I begin. To give a quick picture then, I am a senior at UT Austin, majoring in English & minoring in Communication. I am a scholar of Twitter studies and a Coca-Cola aficionado, oftentimes a poet and musician and filmmaker, a high self-monitor, dangerously deep thinker, people-lover, extrovert & social chameleon. & that is a little about me.
Usually I write on Xanga, the blog website that the dinosaurs used. You can visit my Xanga if you would like, where I spend my time recounting anecdotes, making analogies, pondering human phenomena and composing anonymous second-person messages.

& now, a few words on hashtags.
No I am not literally 'a scholar of Twitter studies,' only what I meant was, I adore Twitter.

When it comes to hashtags, I want to encourage people to push the envelope. Hashtags have certainly evolved ever since they first appeared, and below is a general outline of their evolution:

1. 'Here comes Richard Gere with the envelope. #oscars'
                This is the functional use of the hashtag. It is, essentially, the reason the hashtag was created. If you click on the hashtag for the Richard Gere tweet, you'll be taken to a categorized list of other Tweets, all of which relate to the Oscars. Then you can keep up with Richard Gere & with his envelope, & know about all the other things happening at the ceremony. The hashtag lumps together all those Tweets & lets you observe them at once, in Real time. One hundred Percent functional.

2. 'I haven't done my Latin translation for class yet. #lazy'
                Is this functional in the conventional sense? No, not at all. You wouldn't seriously suppose that someone's going to click on the hashtag  '#lazy' and look for all the Tweets about laziness, would you? No, that isn't why 'lazy' is hashtagged. It isn't to categorize Tweets, it's to make a point. It's to suggest a make-believe world in which Laziness is something like a Live Event, a world in which mundane topics & emotions are being followed by millions of internet users. Just a gimmick, do you know what I mean? Essentially this Tweet takes the concept of laziness & views it through a Twitter-coloured filter. Somewhat like a poet using the mechanics of language to express an emotion, Twitter mechanics are only the Tools through which a sentiment like Laziness can be conveyed.

Now is a tool a good thing or a bad thing?
You are right it is neither.
A knife is a tool. Is a knife a good thing or a bad thing? Well I am afraid it depends. As one of my favourite Professors once described to us, a knife is a wonderful thing if you would like to Cut up a steak. Only if somebody runs up to you on the street and they are screaming & carrying a giant cleaver, I doubt very much that any of you would say 'That is one heck of a knife.'
Twitter mechanics are Tools also. & they are neither good nor bad. It all depends upon how they are used & what they are trying to accomplish. Let's go to Step Three in the evolution, which shows, in my opinion, a Dreadful use of Twitter mechanics.

Below is a representation of an actual Tweet I have seen. The Tweeter will not be named, & some words have been changed so that hopefully you cannot Google it & find them. This person, however, was about to move away to California:

3. 'This could be the last time I see rain in July. #doesitraininthebayarea?'
                 . . . What. No seriously, what the devil. What are you doing? You can't just take some random whimsy you had and try & stuff it into a Twitter-shaped filter. I'll be honest, I never thought that hashtags like '#lazy' were especially clever, only at least they understood how far the Twitter tools could bend. This, though? What are you doing? You're shoving a complete sentence (and a question no less?) into a single hashtag? That isn't ever how hashtags worked, not even by a long shot. There isn't any consciousness of the medium. It's like trying to carve Mount Rushmore with nothing but a plastic kitchen knife. You're using the wrong tool, or at the very least you are using a tool to create an implausible effect, and I do not think it works.

Some might argue that the Tweeter was doing it deliberately, that 'doesitraininthebayarea' was an attempted caricature of hashtags. If so, my problem is that it wasn't clear enough. In fact it was so unclear that it was kind of a disaster. Think of a virtuosic musician coming onto a stage for a performance. If they start by playing a few horrendous, childish-sounding notes with comically awful tone quality, the audience is likely to laugh, understanding that the Virtuoso is quite a few steps beyond Awful. If the musician, however, were to hit some mediocre grey area between Great & Awful, then the audience wouldn't laugh, I don't think. They would likely be uncomfortable. And that is the problem with hashtags like 'doesitraininthebayarea.' It's an abominable use of the tool & it seems that it isn't being done deliberately. The room is full of cricket chirps as we try & figure out whether someone could really be that inept.

The solution is, make very deliberate caricatures. Don't leave any room for doubt. If I saw a bunch of people seriously trying to carve Mount Rushmore with plastic knives, I might make a Joke out of it by using plastic knives to do everything. That, you see, is the fourth step of hashtag evolution. Get deliberate & get meta; don't use Twitter mechanics to express your thoughts, use Twitter mechanics to highlight Twitter mechanics:

4. 'Anyone want to go to Whataburger with me? #ZaynHasTheVoiceOfAnAngel'
                This time there isn't any grey area. Rather than trying to fit your feelings into the filter, you're blowing the filter wide open. Suddenly the idea of the hashtag doesn't make any sense. The tool is exploited. And the chaos and senselessness of Twitter users everywhere is vomited back before their eyes. Just as '#lazy' is a play on Twitter's functional nature, '#ZaynHasTheVoiceOfAnAngel' is a play on the now-convoluted nature of hashtags. In the end, no artist should be unfamiliar with his or her medium. Hang a lantern on every oddity.

Hey, look, I managed to squeeze in a grad school thing when I went to get this screen grab of Bill's tweet. (Su composed this caption, in case you couldn't tell.)

This is the beauty of Twitter. It leaves you the freedom to tamper with the medium, unlike Facebook, which is so very meticulous & meddlesome that one can barely toy with its ironclad mechanics. Twitter is more libertarian, & it is simply too ridiculous to leave unmocked. It's a whirlpool of hashtags & photos and blue letters, website links and retweets and Mentions. I would encourage us to try & bend the system a little; Twist the hashtags, Mention irrelevant celebrities, retweet Useless material & post extraneous photos. If a website takes itself too seriously then I am afraid it will become the next Wikipedia: boring and uptight & robotic. On a playground like Twitter, not every law needs to be followed to the very letter. For every purposeful jumbling of hashtags, therefore, I think we ought to contribute some nonsense. And those are my words for to-day.

-Bill
(@MrBillHill)

Z is for Zenzizenzizenzic

Dear Readers, thanks for joining me for the A to Z Challenge. I'll be back to my regular blogging nonsense tomorrow. (Yes, I know that's not much different than during A to Z. Pffft.) Today, my dear husband Chadwick takes us out with a mathematical bang and a real word that has not one, but six Z's in it. He's always been a bit of an overachiever.

Remember when you were a child learning to spell words like M-i-ss-i-ss-i-pp-i? Me too. Did you ever have to learn Zen-zi-zen-zi-zen-zic? I didn't. Probably because it is obsolete. So, why am I writing about it?

This is the best I could
do. Hey, it's math-
related! And related to
my favourite math show,
Square One. Source.

When I finally started my New Year's Resolution (you know, in April), I saw that I had exactly 256 days to work on it. Guess what? Yep, 256 is zenzizenzizenzic. In fact, it is the largest three-digit number that has that designation. "Cool," I thought.

Cool? I am a square.

Square. That is what zenzic means. Zenzizenzizenzic is the square of a square of a square, or something to the 8th power. "I like power." "I need power to work on my New Year's Resolution." Yeah, I know, you were thinking it too.

What was my New Year's Resolution? Get into shape, of course. Sadly, I started with 256 days left, but I weighed more than that in pounds. But, I worked toward zenzic and made it. That was four days. I am currently working toward zenzizenzic, or sixteen days. I'm not doing as good as I was the first four days, because apparently the power is in the numbers, not my body. But that is another story.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, “This does not deserve an A.” You are right. It deserves a Z.

X is for X

Today's guest blogger woke me up last night when he had to turn the light on after I was already in bed! Okay, just kidding, I wasn't really asleep yet. More to the point, today's guest blogger has gone out of his way to make this very stressful week a little less stressful and a little more manageable for me. Yep, in case you hadn't guessed, it's my husband Chadwick, here for your reading enjoyment!

Fear of the unknown is one of our most basic survival instincts. X represents an independent or unknown variable, and we don't like independent or unknown variables, even though we live with more of them than we can possibly count. Maybe the fear of the unknown is part of the reason why some people have anxiety at the mere thought of an algebra exam. But something a lot less abstract is at play here.

We are all independent variables and unknown variables to each other. We build trust and form groups for a shared sense of knowing, and knowing gives a sense of safety, which is one of our most basic needs. Yet, we really can't know everything about an other. This leads to a range of reactions to the other. We view the world from inside-out and we evaluate the world based on ourselves. So, what is like us is less strange to us than what is different from us. The more different another is, the more strange and foreign they are to us.

If someone reacts to foreign people or ideas with fear, they are xenophobic and these xenophobes can be anything from paralyzed to aggressive in their xenophobia. The opposite reaction is attraction and these people are xenophilic. Xenophiles can be anything from pleasant to obsessive in their xenophilia. These two reactions form a continuum, which defines a major motivator in all of human life.

I know it will horrify some of you to learn that life is just one big algebra exam. Finding the value of X is our most basic survival instinct. This is why the most basic fear is fear of the unknown and the most basic attraction is attraction to the unknown. If we are too afraid of the other, we will avoid them completely. If we are too attracted to the other, then we may soon be like them. Either way, this is how we attempt to survive as the Unknown Variable.

T is for Theatre

Today's guest blogger is my cousin Deborah. As kids, we rarely saw one another, due to that whole living-in-different-states thing. Now... well, we still rarely see each other in person, but thanks to the miracles of Facebook, Twitter, and email, we at least communicate! Today, she tells us about her-- and her daughter's-- recent experiences with the theatre.

I am a wife, mom, student, Sunday school teacher, and Girl Scout leader.  But for the past two years, I have donned another title for Edna Hill Middle School in Brentwood, California (the one in Northern California, not the OJ one): costume lead. I have never felt like I could do anything well, but when my oldest got into theater in sixth grade, I started to help backstage and making costumes. The next fall, the lady who made them before needed a break. The director asked me if I would organize the costumes for Beauty and the Beast. I agreed and a hidden talent emerged.

These costumes really are amazing, Deborah!

For the first play we rented most of the costumes, and made a few. The next play, we made about half the costumes from scratch, and used leftover inventory from other shows for the rest. For the last show I did (which ended its run late Saturday night), we had no inventory for anyone but the narrators-- 5 out of 65 kids-- and had to make the rest. I can’t tell you the pride that comes from handing a child a costume and seeing their face light up in wonder.

I can’t talk about theater without talking about my shining star, Abigail (my oldest daughter). In sixth grade she was a shy little girl who couldn’t talk to adults. She had trouble auditioning one on one with Mr. Schneider. She got bit parts the first few years: a goblin in Bah Humbug, a townsperson/Farmer from American Gothic in Music Man, the bookseller/Beast double for Beauty and the Beast, and Annette (a made up part—one of Cha-Cha's friends) in Grease. Her eighth grade year she really got the chance to shine as the Scarecrow in Wizard of Oz, and Sultana in Aladdin. She has really come out of her shell and blossomed as a performer and young woman. She has made lifelong friends that share the same interests, and found her dream: She wants to be either an actress or a drama teacher so she can help others realize their potential. I am so immensely proud of her.

Theater has been so kind to our family, letting us do what we love-- me designing and making beautiful costumes, and her performing. I can’t wait for another year when Anny (my younger daughter) gets to sixth grade and gets her chance to shine. And neither can she.

Who knew my daughter finding her dream would help me find mine-- designing costumes for theater groups. I have offers from a few paid groups for a few costumes. Maybe this will be my calling.

P is for Peace

Today's guest blogger introduces herself, tells how we met, about her family... she's left me nothing to do but say, take it away, Tricia! Oh, and if you're looking for an apartment to rent in Lubbock, she's your gal.

Hi, I am Tricia.  I have known Su for many years now, honestly I’m not sure exactly how many.  I met her while she was attending SPCoC and I believe the first encounter was during Bible Bowl and we were doing a skit together in which we were vendors selling popcorn and snacks at a sporting event of some kind.  If you know me at all, you will know that “Peace” is something that is pretty foreign to me but something I long for every single day.  I am the wife of a wonderful man, Rich of 11 years, I have two seniors in high school this year, both are now 18 (yes, previous marriage – Gabby is Rich’s and Tanner is mine) and then I have boy/girl twin 6 year olds in Kindergarten.  For money to help in supporting these wonderful children of ours, I own and operate five apartment communities in the Lubbock area.

Have you taken a moment recently to enjoy peace?  I mean really find and enjoy peace.  Life gets so busy and it never seems to stop, no matter how hard we try to make it slow down or to not take on more.  True peace is hard to come by for me lately.

I know sometimes when I am driving, I will turn off the radio and enjoy the quiet.  However, the peace that I am enjoying isn’t really peace, is it? I am still thinking about where I am going, what I need to do, how to drive the car, how to avoid the crazy people driving around me, what needs to be done tonight, what needs to be done tomorrow, what I need to do for my kids, what I need to do for my husband, what…  The list goes on and on.  I know that I am far from unique in this experience. 

I encourage you to take a moment and find peace-- true peace-- for a few minutes every single day. 

“If you want peace, stop fighting. If you want peace of mind, stop fighting with your thoughts.” – Peter McWilliams

Here are a few things that I find myself trying to do to help myself find peace on a regular basis:

Find the “Off” switch – turn it all off – turn the TV off, turn the phone off, turn the music off.  Take a few minutes each day and just turn everything off, sit in silence and enjoy the peace.  I personally find myself automatically talking to God during this time.  Isn’t it comforting to know that even when you are alone and everything is off and away from you - God is here.  He is wrapping his arms around us to show us that above all else, He is.

Find Happiness in the Little Things – The more time I take to appreciate things that really don’t matter to anyone else but me, the more I find myself at peace with situations that surround me.  I have found that if I really take the time to look and see how perfectly placed life is, I am astounded how perfect God is.  It’s all about his timing, his will.  The sooner we accept this and notice this, the more at peace we will be. 

Obtain the Obtainable – I am preaching to myself on this one.  I have set goals for myself and sometimes I have found that my goal is clearly out of reach.  I know that personally accepting the fact sooner than later will only benefit me in the long run.  I hate constantly trying to figure out what I need to do differently to make it happen, figuring out what I did wrong to keep it from happening, etc.  Change your goal, find another place to focus that will give you that inner peace.

Don’t procrastinate – When I wait until the last minute to do things, I find myself stressed to the max because 10 other things come up that have to be completed today as well.  Take a moment to complete things as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Say NO!  -  This is the hardest thing for me.  I hate to say No, I have this thing inside me that feels like if I say no to something, I will be letting someone down.  I think to myself: if I don’t do this, who will?  The truth of the matter is, it doesn’t matter.  If you are overbooked and there isn’t time for you to do these things, it doesn’t matter who will do it, you have to accept that it can’t be you.  I have learned that by me never saying no, my husband pays, my children pay, my job pays, my spiritual life pays…  Who is winning in this situation?

Hopefully, these ideas will help you as they have helped me and I will pray that you too can find peace every single day of your life. 

“First keep the peace within yourself, then you can also bring peace to others”

O is for Onomatopoeia

Sparquay's first guest post in this series was such a success, he's back for round two with the letter O.

            Today I get to talk about that curious little oval in our alphabet which is only differentiated from the number zero in typography by being a slightly fatter oval. It unnerves me that there are two distinct characters where are not dissimilar enough from each other, especially when entering in those Captcha codes that test whether or not you’re a real human. I think zero should reinstate the slash-through that distinguished its character as a number rather than a letter.

           

            But back to the rotund letter. Do you think it has issues with its obese image? Or has it bravely taken on the stance of big, bold, and beautiful? I see ‘O’ as a very large man who is wide as he is tall (but slightly below average height), with a bowler hat, black suit with tails, a monocle, and complete with a prominent mustache hung underneath his nose. He either listens to opera, or is a supreme tenor in the opera. Whatever character it has taken as you personally anthropomorphize it, it stands as a prominent vowel, making it’s presence known throughout our vocabulary.*

I don't know where Sparquay is
finding these images, but they're
getting a bit creepy.

            There are some great words that start with ‘O’: Ominous, Orchestra, Ostrich, Ocean. You begin to get the feeling that ‘O’ got all the great refined words, which all the more reinforces the image I described earlier.

            Orchids are a favorite flower of mine (please, don’t think it odd that someone of the male gender has a favorite flower). Unlike most flowers that have several lines of symmetry, I enjoy the beauty of the orchid with just one vertical line of symmetry. Irises are another one of my favorite flowers, but that doesn’t begin with ‘O’.

            Georgia O’Keefe has always been among my favorite painters. Her style is unlike any other with such simple and detailed subjects that become striking to the eye. Flowers, skulls, and desert backgrounds are the prominent images in her most popular paintings. She captures the beauty in what others would have passed off as boring or morbid. Fine cracks with the bleached bones and soft complete gradients throughout the petals of a flower make her paintings appreciable from a distance and, equally, up close.

            And finally, onomatopoeia is a fun word to say and spell. With all those vowels coming together at the end... it must make ‘U’ jealous.**

_________________________

*I was going to attempt to count how many times I used ‘O’ in this paragraph, but my short attention span kicked in and decided there were better things to do... like continue writing this blog post in time for CheekySu’s deadline.

**And if you haven’t picked up on it yet... I’m hopelessly random.

M is for Madness

Today's guest blogger introduces herself, so I'll kick it off by saying: I'm very delighted to have her here today. I've known of her for a lot longer than she remembers knowing me, because she & Amanda have been friends for a long time and there are some things that having 13 extra years' worth of memory will do for you. *wink* Anyway, it's been a joy to get to know the adult Paula and think of her as an extra baby cousin!

First, a quick introduction. For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Paula, and I am one of Baby Cousin's (or Amanda, as I know her) friends. Su and I met officially through a string of events leading up to and culminating at Amanda and I’s high school graduation. Currently, I am a 20-year-old English Education major from Anderson University. And, since my letter is M, I’m choosing the word madness to go along with it. After all, finals are in a week and a half.

“Have I gone mad?” The Hatter looks up at Alice with pure terror in his piercing eyes. Carefully, Alice cups his face and nods.

“I’m afraid so.” She started. “But, all of best are completely bonkers.”

The Mad Hatter is one of the many characters out in pop culture closely associated with “madness.” Follow that by some criminals and some celebrities, and the true definition has gone completely out the window. My definition, however, is one from a college student’s perspective. Think about it, we’re about a week and a half before finals. For some, this is the week that determines if whether or not you’re going to graduate on Saturday or not. For others, however, it’s just that sigh of relief signaling three months of one of the following things:

• A carefree, relaxed summer.
• A summer job with the majority of the time being filled with relaxation. Or, the latter: 
• Summer? What is this “summer” you speak of? 

Me? Well, I think I can safely say that I am somewhere in the middle of it all. I have one summer class, I am currently on the hunt for a summer job, and this summer isn't going to be NEARLY as packed as last summer was. See, last summer, I got married.

-PAUSE-
Wait? You’re twenty years old and you've been married for almost a year already? Yup. Brian, my husband, and I met in high school. After a trip to Afghanistan [Ed.- Brian serves in the U.S. Army. Send him all the good vibes and/or prayers you can spare. -Su], we didn't see the point of waiting anymore. Ergo, we got married. Moving on.
-End Pause-

The photos that came up when I searched for
"madness" were a bit worrying. So I decided to go with
summery/relaxing instead. Source.

So, since this summer is going to be a LOT less hectic than last summer was, I’m not too sure what I am going to do with myself. Sitting here, thinking about it, I still can’t quite tell you what I am going to do. But, that’s not the point. The point is this: Take some time this summer to put the madness aside and relax. This world is crazy enough as it is, you don’t need to give it another reason to be so. Take a deep breath, read a book or the Bible. I would recommend some tea, as it is very calming to me. (Chai is my favorite, but it varies.) Either way, take a break from the madness that is this world, and focus on your needs. Sounds like some challenge, eh? Think you can do it? Don’t worry, we’re all going to stumble, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy a quiet moment or two.

K is for Knife?

Another guest blogger, because I'm writing a 20-page paper this week and am hysterically grateful to the people who agreed to tag in for me. Today's post is brought to you by Sparquay, a fellow member of our group who went to Scotland in 1998. He met his wife while we were over there, and the two of them now live in England with their adorable son. Sparquay occasionally blogs, but mostly just says amusing things on Facebook.

I was given K. If you read the title and are drawn by the topic of sharp things, I’m sorry... but you will be disappointed. This is an attempt by someone who has no linguistics education to post something linguistically related on someone’s blog who is about to receive a bachelor’s degree with a minor in linguisticky things. (Oh, and I’m apt to make up my own words [and I love to make parenthetical statements, too*.])


Instead of shiny sharp subjects, I’d like to talk about the letter ‘K’. It really is an odd letter when you think about it.


C vs. K
If the alphabet were a place of employment, and I were in charge of eliminating a few of the letters (to make a more economical keyboard, dictionary, etc), ‘K’ would definitely have a lot to prove to keep its job, when considering its performance in the workplace. We’ve already got ‘C’ and it seems to be doing quite well. It even picks up some of ‘S’s tasks. ‘K’ seems to shadow ‘C’ around. It’s slacking.

We aren't really sure what's happening
in this pic, although it appears to be
Adam and Eve getting kozy with a K.

Aesthetics
I dabble in a bit of graphic design. ‘K’ redeems itself in the area of beauty. It’s one of the areas of typography where an artist can really strut their skills with this fun letter.


K is Kool
I’m not sure how ‘K’ sneaks into other words where it doesn’t belong, though. How did it become prominent in replacing the letter ‘C’? Take for example the place that serves lovely warm donuts... Krispy Kremes. What was the motivation of this company to replace ‘C’ with ‘K’... twice? Are ‘K’s really that much more exciting?
We could also gate crash CheekySu’s theme of names: Katherine, Karl, Kris... it seems you just replace ‘C’ for a ‘K’ and you get a unique name that will have everyone questioning the spelling, because of unconventional parents.


Silent K
How does ‘K’, which seems to stick both arms out for attention like a ADD kid, become silent? Knight, knowledge, knock... I tried Googling™ the term “Silent K”, and only came up with the answer that it comes from some old English which carried over from borrowed Germanic words that we never gave back and kept the pointless ‘K’. Apparently, it was originally pronounced as a voiceless velar plosive (not sure how you achieve such a oral sound), but was dropped like vowels in a teenage text message. You’re all lazy for not pronouncing the ‘K’, young people born after the 1400s with no respect for preserving the beauty of language.


In Konklusion
I’d like to hear what you have to say about ‘K’ in the Komments.
_______________________
*- and a footnote just for fun.

G is for Goat Cheese

Today's guest blogger is Jordan (also known as TARDIS girl), another fellow consultant at the Undergraduate Writing Center, co-founder of Frenzied Novelists, and all-around fun person. Jordan and I have been friends ever since we were at a random meeting in January of 2011. She saw me and said, "Hey, aren't we in class together?" I said, "Yeah. Is that a TARDIS on your backpack?" We really didn't have much choice about being friends after that. Jordan blogs at The Kitchen Klutz.

TARDIS girl, here, ladies and gentlemen. I have a confession. I am a goat cheese addict. Despite its high price, I buy about 8 oz every week and use it in a variety of dishes. Goat cheese has a multitude of uses. Eat it alone, in a quiche, in a pasta, on a salad -- it’s the perfect accompaniment to so many things. Here is an adapted version of a Giada de Laurentiis recipe, the recipe to which I owe my addiction and my unreasonable grocery bill.

Source: Slightlynorth on flickr.

Goat Cheese Toasts

3 tablespoons olive oil
8 oz goat cheese (Montchevre brand)
4 oz cream cheese
Parsley, thyme, and oregano to taste
1 tsp lemon juice
Salt to taste

Crostini or bagel crisps, about 36

Pulse all ingredients in a food processor. Spread over crostini and let your addiction begin.


Find more goat cheese-related recipes at The Kitchen Klutz.

Cheers!

C is for Cooking in a Co-op

Since I'm doing Script Frenzy and regular life in addition to the A to Z Challenge, I put out a desperate friendly call for guest bloggers incessantly a few times on Facebook & Twitter. My fellow Undergraduate Writing Center consultant Natalie was the first to respond. Natalie blogs at The First Kitchen and at Longhorn Confidential. Photos in this post (except the first) are Natalie's own.

Source.

About a week after I moved into Avalon Co-op, I came home from school at 9 p.m. I had been on campus for twelve hours, running between study groups and work and meetings. I was exhausted and cranky and starving, so after I dropped off my bike, I went straight to the kitchen. When I opened up the fridge, there was a plate of spaghetti, freshly baked bread, and steamed broccoli in front of me, covered in plastic wrap and labeled "NATALIE."

That was the first time I realized how incredible cooperative living really is. Like most people, I didn’t really know what to expect out of co-op housing when I moved in. All I really knew was that I would be sharing living quarters with 24 other people, which sounded simultaneously exciting and horrifying.

I didn’t expect to find a community of some of the most incredible people on the planet--people who I may never have met if I didn’t live at Avalon. People who are friendly, considerate, and genuinely caring; people who are dedicated to making the house not only function but flourish. People who love to have fun, but also respect my space and time when I need it. People who leave a plate of food in the fridge for me when I come home from a long day.

Living in a coop is an experience I wouldn't trade for the world, and most people I know would benefit from spending a few months as a housemate. Besides all of the obvious benefits--inexpensive rent, great people, shared responsibilities--it's an incredibly sustainable way to live (so much so that Mayor Lee Leffingwell and the Austin City Council recently endorsed cooperative living).

If you're interested in living in a co-op, check out ICC, College Houses, or one of the several independent co-operatives around Austin. And if you ever find yourself cooking for 24 other people, here's a great recipe for sweet potato black bean chili (this is also a great recipe to make in big batches and freeze, if your house is a little smaller than mine).

Sweet Potato Black Bean Chili

4 tbsp. olive oil

4 onions, diced

4 carrots, diced

10 cloves of garlic, minced

2 tbsp. cumin

1 1/2 tbsp. chili powder

4 28-oz. cans of diced tomatoes

8 cups of water or stock

6 cups of dried black beans, soaked overnight then cooked

8 chipotle peppers in adobo sauce, minced

4 lbs. sweet potatoes, diced

2 cups cilantro, chopped

2 tbsp. kosher salt

Juice of four limes

Heat the oil in a large pot, then saute the onions, carrots, and garlic. Add the spices and stir until fragrant, about 1 minute. Add the tomatoes, stock, black beans, and chipotle peppers. Bring to a boil, then lower to a simmer for 20 minutes. Add the sweet potatoes and salt, and simmer until the potatoes are tender, 30-40 minutes. Add the lime juice and cilantro last. Serve with cheese, tortilla chips, or salsa.