From Emergency!
"When I was an intern at San Francisco General, a bag lady came in saying she was falling down on occasion. Since she was in her sixties, we worried about heart problems or transient strokes. She reported no other medical problems or symptoms.
We helped her undress, which took time because she was a mummy of clothing layers interspersed with layers of newspaper. When we got down to the last layer and uncovered her leg, it was alive with thousands of maggots wriggling in what was left of her flesh.
I felt a visceral stun. There was a moment where my brain could not absorb the information my eyes were sending to it.It had to make some adjustment before moving on.
I think of this now as I watch a coworker bite a doughnut while working on a mutilated trauma victim, and I wonder if as the bizarre becomes commonplace there is a hidden cost to the self."
Do you think there is? If you deal every day with drug addicts faking pain to get their fix of morphine; half-crazed homeless women stealing your ambulances; children crying in shock, having seeing their little brother decapitated and little sister mutilated after an accident in a car driven by their drunk mother; little girls with their skulls shattered after being hit by a car, the pieces of bone under the scalp clicking together at the slightest touch; do you think it does something to you? Desensitizes you? Could you do it at all? Would you even try, knowing how many people die even if you do as much as possible for them, but also how many you'd save? Would you try knowing how many moments you could get a good laugh out of later, but also how many would leave you devastated?
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Why?
Another shallow post about crappy art. The gas prices thing pretty much wore out the important things I had to say.
http://owlgem.deviantart.com/art/kiss-84421064
I know DeviantArt is a vacuous pit of suck, but this?
It's not very good, is it? I mean, along with the brain-scarringly weird content. If almost anyone else had posted something like that, I can guarantee that people would have been completely weirded out. But because it's this particular artist, she's getting dozens of comments about how sexy it is and how she's wonderful at art and oooookawaiishinydesudesu. The only reason she has so many butt-licking little fans is because she used to post stupid Harry Potter fanart (Snape. Picking his nose. Stay classy, Gemma.) and ugly wormy hermaphrodite snake-centaur things. But that was before she changed accounts because people who had a grain of sense were giving her honest critiques and telling her how she could improve. How did she respond to that? "WAAAAH PISS OFF I KNOW HOW TO DRAWWWWW AND YOU SUCK AT ART YOU DARN PROFESSIONAL ILLUSTRATOR YOU!"
The greatest of these failures may have been when she tried joining ConceptArt, an online art community full of incredible artists, both professional and not, who are seeking honest critique and want to improve their art. She posted one picture for critique, but she evidently expected comments telling her how wonderful it was, because she was rather angry when people started to tell her how she could improve.
I would be wrong if I said she was a terrible artist. But I would be lying if I said I liked the style she uses or that she's a great artist. She has clearly shown little improvement or change in her technique since she was about twelve, The only change being that she fine-tuned her coloring techniques. Search up "Snapesnogger" or "Owlgem" to see the fail.
But maybe I should start drawing like that and whining whenever somebody tells me I'm not as good as I could be or they don't like my picture, because noseless hermaphrodite people-worms with giant square eyes and boys in bunny costumes making out with mouthfuls of tentacles clearly have something I don't.
Or maybe I should keep evolving my style, finding ways to make it better, studying anatomy, requesting critique from professionals, and constantly practicing art to improve myself.
Nah. I think I'll start drawing square-eyed noseless hermaphrodite bunny men with horns, snake tails, three fingers and no musculature.
I'll call him Fritz.
http://owlgem.deviantart.com/art/kiss-84421064
I know DeviantArt is a vacuous pit of suck, but this?
It's not very good, is it? I mean, along with the brain-scarringly weird content. If almost anyone else had posted something like that, I can guarantee that people would have been completely weirded out. But because it's this particular artist, she's getting dozens of comments about how sexy it is and how she's wonderful at art and oooookawaiishinydesudesu. The only reason she has so many butt-licking little fans is because she used to post stupid Harry Potter fanart (Snape. Picking his nose. Stay classy, Gemma.) and ugly wormy hermaphrodite snake-centaur things. But that was before she changed accounts because people who had a grain of sense were giving her honest critiques and telling her how she could improve. How did she respond to that? "WAAAAH PISS OFF I KNOW HOW TO DRAWWWWW AND YOU SUCK AT ART YOU DARN PROFESSIONAL ILLUSTRATOR YOU!"
The greatest of these failures may have been when she tried joining ConceptArt, an online art community full of incredible artists, both professional and not, who are seeking honest critique and want to improve their art. She posted one picture for critique, but she evidently expected comments telling her how wonderful it was, because she was rather angry when people started to tell her how she could improve.
I would be wrong if I said she was a terrible artist. But I would be lying if I said I liked the style she uses or that she's a great artist. She has clearly shown little improvement or change in her technique since she was about twelve, The only change being that she fine-tuned her coloring techniques. Search up "Snapesnogger" or "Owlgem" to see the fail.
But maybe I should start drawing like that and whining whenever somebody tells me I'm not as good as I could be or they don't like my picture, because noseless hermaphrodite people-worms with giant square eyes and boys in bunny costumes making out with mouthfuls of tentacles clearly have something I don't.
Or maybe I should keep evolving my style, finding ways to make it better, studying anatomy, requesting critique from professionals, and constantly practicing art to improve myself.
Nah. I think I'll start drawing square-eyed noseless hermaphrodite bunny men with horns, snake tails, three fingers and no musculature.
I'll call him Fritz.
Gas Prices
The end of the giant SUV is near, prepare accordingly!
Seriously, I can't help but laugh about the guy I saw at UDF the other day filling up his Hummer, yes, Hummer with $4-a-gallon gasoline and complaining about how much it cost. And me sitting in the little blue Honda Civic next to his monster car smirking about it. Yeah, have fun getting seven miles a gallon. You know, that's like getting 1.75 miles for every dollar you spend on gas. The way I see it, the easiest things to do (short of deporting all the self-rightous people proclaiming that the oil industry has us by the balls as they fill up their Hummers to Antarctica) are these...
I. Slow down. Why is everyone always in such a hurry anyway?
II. Stop commuting with an eight-cylinder engine. I know big engines are necessary for big jobs, but you don't need a Ford Expedition for commuting.
III. Don't let your car idle for twenty minutes while you're picking your kid up at daycare.
IV. Park and go into McDonalds rather than waiting for fifteen minutes in the drive-through line.
V. Carpool, dammit.
VI. If the errand you're running is within six blocks, walk or ride a bike.
VII. If you're a highschooler, take the bus. Even if you can drive, take the bus. It saves gas, and I don't care if it means you'll have to wake up an hour earlier to do your hair.
VIII. Stop whining about it to me, for the dang blasted flipping love of crap. Yes the Hummer is shiny. However, it's also fugly and gets crappy mileage. Get a good motercycle or something. Eighty miles to the gallon.
Seriously, I can't help but laugh about the guy I saw at UDF the other day filling up his Hummer, yes, Hummer with $4-a-gallon gasoline and complaining about how much it cost. And me sitting in the little blue Honda Civic next to his monster car smirking about it. Yeah, have fun getting seven miles a gallon. You know, that's like getting 1.75 miles for every dollar you spend on gas. The way I see it, the easiest things to do (short of deporting all the self-rightous people proclaiming that the oil industry has us by the balls as they fill up their Hummers to Antarctica) are these...
I. Slow down. Why is everyone always in such a hurry anyway?
II. Stop commuting with an eight-cylinder engine. I know big engines are necessary for big jobs, but you don't need a Ford Expedition for commuting.
III. Don't let your car idle for twenty minutes while you're picking your kid up at daycare.
IV. Park and go into McDonalds rather than waiting for fifteen minutes in the drive-through line.
V. Carpool, dammit.
VI. If the errand you're running is within six blocks, walk or ride a bike.
VII. If you're a highschooler, take the bus. Even if you can drive, take the bus. It saves gas, and I don't care if it means you'll have to wake up an hour earlier to do your hair.
VIII. Stop whining about it to me, for the dang blasted flipping love of crap. Yes the Hummer is shiny. However, it's also fugly and gets crappy mileage. Get a good motercycle or something. Eighty miles to the gallon.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
OC
Jenn posted about the Innocence Project, which has to do with proving convicted criminals innocent using DNA evidence. DNA evidence is some pretty crazy stuff. I've read a lot about some aspects of forensics, and if I recall correctly, The best place to recover DNA from a human body is tooth pulp. It's well-preserved, since teeth are nearly indestructible, but it only yields a tiny amount. However, they've been using DNA recovered from the teeth and long bones of 650-year-old victims of the black plague to identify them, and even find their descendents. It's also being used to identify what the black plague actually was, since it's been disputed. (The general descriptions point to the bubonic variety, but there are differing opinions.)
DNA can be used to identify the perpetrator of almost any crime, provided they left something behind. Saliva, skin, blood, urine, anything. Which is exactly why it's so incredibly useful in freeing innocent people who have been wrongfully convicted. As long as the evidence is correctly preserved and cared for at the time of conviction, (frozen, etc) it can still be used quite a while later, and remain viable. It's great that innocent people have been freed upon review of evidence. I actually remember an article in the Dispatch not too long ago about a guy who was being freed and pardoned because he had been wrongfully convicted years before...
DNA can be used to identify the perpetrator of almost any crime, provided they left something behind. Saliva, skin, blood, urine, anything. Which is exactly why it's so incredibly useful in freeing innocent people who have been wrongfully convicted. As long as the evidence is correctly preserved and cared for at the time of conviction, (frozen, etc) it can still be used quite a while later, and remain viable. It's great that innocent people have been freed upon review of evidence. I actually remember an article in the Dispatch not too long ago about a guy who was being freed and pardoned because he had been wrongfully convicted years before...
RR
Since I'm definitely a really decisive person, while I decided to take a pass on Blink, I couldn't decide what to finally choose for my nonfiction book. I got out a couple I've read before, and took my dad's recommendation for a couple others. This is what I came up with...
Never Suck a Dead Man's Hand: Curious Adventures of a CSI, by Dana Kollmann.
This is a memoir of sorts. The author talks about her time as a civilian CSI, including the most horrifying of her cases (Shotgun suicide, head matter spattered everywhere, including the ceiling fan, which was unfortunately on, among others.), the funniest (The egg in the trash, and the book's namesake, dead-guy's-hand-in-the-mouth-aaargh-swish-with-rubbing-alcohol), and even the dumb pranks that the CSIs and Officers would play on each other. It's really interesting, but probably isn't good lunchtime reading.
Emergency!, by Mark Brown, M.D.
This one was great. I've read it at least three times by now. It's a collection of stories from ER doctors, med students, and nurses from around the country, telling about their funniest/weirdest cases (cucumber up the butt, Screech owl attached to the arm, etc. Also, never let someone with epilepsy give you a BJ...), some that are unbearably sad, and a few that give you a little more hope for humanity. There are a lot of stories, and some of them are hilarious, but others had me almost in tears. It's a really good book.
The Ghost Map, by Steven Johnson.
About the cholera epidemic in London, 1854. I haven't finished it yet, but it promises to be really interesting. It's also really well written, told like a story rather than a collection of data; but in a strangely detached way that's really beguiling, except at points where there were amazingly complete records of events.
The Family That Couldn't Sleep: A Medical Mystery, By D.T. Max.
This one is about prion diseases. It gives the stories of a Venetian family that suffers fatal familial insomnia, bovine spongiform encephalopathy, or mad cow disease, a tribe of cannibals in Papua, New Guinea who were nearly wiped out by a disease whose primary symptom is uncontrollable laughter, and how millions of sheep across England rubbed their fleeces raw and bloody before collapsing. If you're not interested now, you never will be.
All these books are great. I'm having some trouble deciding, so I'll let all two of the people who read my blog give me their opinions. I'm willing to do two of the books every week, or just alternate somehow. My personal preference is for Emergency! and The Family That Couldn't Sleep, but what do you think?
Never Suck a Dead Man's Hand: Curious Adventures of a CSI, by Dana Kollmann.
This is a memoir of sorts. The author talks about her time as a civilian CSI, including the most horrifying of her cases (Shotgun suicide, head matter spattered everywhere, including the ceiling fan, which was unfortunately on, among others.), the funniest (The egg in the trash, and the book's namesake, dead-guy's-hand-in-the-mouth-aaargh-swish-with-rubbing-alcohol), and even the dumb pranks that the CSIs and Officers would play on each other. It's really interesting, but probably isn't good lunchtime reading.
Emergency!, by Mark Brown, M.D.
This one was great. I've read it at least three times by now. It's a collection of stories from ER doctors, med students, and nurses from around the country, telling about their funniest/weirdest cases (cucumber up the butt, Screech owl attached to the arm, etc. Also, never let someone with epilepsy give you a BJ...), some that are unbearably sad, and a few that give you a little more hope for humanity. There are a lot of stories, and some of them are hilarious, but others had me almost in tears. It's a really good book.
The Ghost Map, by Steven Johnson.
About the cholera epidemic in London, 1854. I haven't finished it yet, but it promises to be really interesting. It's also really well written, told like a story rather than a collection of data; but in a strangely detached way that's really beguiling, except at points where there were amazingly complete records of events.
The Family That Couldn't Sleep: A Medical Mystery, By D.T. Max.
This one is about prion diseases. It gives the stories of a Venetian family that suffers fatal familial insomnia, bovine spongiform encephalopathy, or mad cow disease, a tribe of cannibals in Papua, New Guinea who were nearly wiped out by a disease whose primary symptom is uncontrollable laughter, and how millions of sheep across England rubbed their fleeces raw and bloody before collapsing. If you're not interested now, you never will be.
All these books are great. I'm having some trouble deciding, so I'll let all two of the people who read my blog give me their opinions. I'm willing to do two of the books every week, or just alternate somehow. My personal preference is for Emergency! and The Family That Couldn't Sleep, but what do you think?
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Headline T-shirts
Okay, honestly, Why? Why would anyone buy a T-shirt with a CNN headline on it? I know, everyone own lots of T-shirts, they accumulate like dust, but are you really going to pay like $15 to get a shirt that says "Hillary Loses Primary" or something?
Let's take a look at today's headlines...
"Hezbollah Militants to Leave Beirut Streets". Okay, yeah, that makes so much sense on a shirt. Especially ten years from now.
"Wedding Bells Toll for First Daughter". Let's pretend we care enough about Bush's kid that we wear a shirt that advertises her wedding.
"Pope: Sex Can Become 'Like a Drug'". Good to know. Let's advertise that fact.
"Report: Fired Admiral had Sex at White House". I see little point in a shirt that says this unless you're the one he had sex with. Why are they all about sex today?
"Video: Superhero Pies". ...Okay, I MIGHT buy a shirt if it had superhero pies on it.
"Police: Ten-Year-Old Raped, Gives Birth". Of course I want that written across my boobs, what are you talking about? I find your lack of faith disturbing...
"Tornado Rips Through Parts of Mississippi". Uhhh, right. Heh.
Most of the headlines aren't that great, really. They wouldn't make much sense on a shirt at all. Can you picture walking around in a shirt that says "Judge Alledgedly Napped, Made Bailiff Rub Back"?
It's not even funny in context. Out of context, it's just stupid. Why does everything have to somehow make money? People must buy these, or they wouldn't do it. If I ever see someone in a shirt with a CNN headline about Obama or some kid who made a bong out of a skull he dug up, I'm going to laugh. But I'll be the only one laughing, because I'll be the only one who gets it and understands how dumb it is. I'll stick to Fark as my news source.
Let's take a look at today's headlines...
"Hezbollah Militants to Leave Beirut Streets". Okay, yeah, that makes so much sense on a shirt. Especially ten years from now.
"Wedding Bells Toll for First Daughter". Let's pretend we care enough about Bush's kid that we wear a shirt that advertises her wedding.
"Pope: Sex Can Become 'Like a Drug'". Good to know. Let's advertise that fact.
"Report: Fired Admiral had Sex at White House". I see little point in a shirt that says this unless you're the one he had sex with. Why are they all about sex today?
"Video: Superhero Pies". ...Okay, I MIGHT buy a shirt if it had superhero pies on it.
"Police: Ten-Year-Old Raped, Gives Birth". Of course I want that written across my boobs, what are you talking about? I find your lack of faith disturbing...
"Tornado Rips Through Parts of Mississippi". Uhhh, right. Heh.
Most of the headlines aren't that great, really. They wouldn't make much sense on a shirt at all. Can you picture walking around in a shirt that says "Judge Alledgedly Napped, Made Bailiff Rub Back"?
It's not even funny in context. Out of context, it's just stupid. Why does everything have to somehow make money? People must buy these, or they wouldn't do it. If I ever see someone in a shirt with a CNN headline about Obama or some kid who made a bong out of a skull he dug up, I'm going to laugh. But I'll be the only one laughing, because I'll be the only one who gets it and understands how dumb it is. I'll stick to Fark as my news source.
Friday, May 2, 2008
RR...Sort Of.
Since I really didn't like the other Gladwell book, I really didn't feel much like reading Blink. I really didn't. But since I already had it from the library, I figured I's might as well give it a shot (though I was even more turned off of it by my father's assessment, since he'd read it. He said that it wasn't very interesting and that Gladwell was completely wrong about a few things...) So, I read the first part, but I may or may not keep going. I'll also post about another nonfiction book.
Gladwell said that there are a lot of things that you can look at that will tell you about a person. That's true, at least. iPods are one good example, though not conclusive. Mine's full of a pretty large variety of stuff, so I really couldn't tell you what that signifies exactly. I don't listen to the stereotypical irritating music that a lot of people similar to me like, so either I'm a terrible judge of music, or they are. I'd go with them.
Maybe that's not a really good example.
So--the perennial example of the bag. Somebody, probably somebody old, once said that you can tell a lot about a woman from what she has in her bag. It's true. What would you assume about someone who carries around a sketchbook? A vampire book, like that annoying Eclipse series? A manga and a how-to-draw-your-own-(lousy)-anime book? A laptop? Someone who never seems to stop at their locker because they feel the inexplicable need to carry all their books around?
That's right. From the first, you'd assume "artist", though not necessarily good one. I've known some extraordinarily bad (to the point where it's gotta be some kind of talent) "artists" who carry a sketchbook everywhere. Second person, they have bad taste in literature and that there is a good chance they won't shut up about it. Third person, that they bear all the identfying marks of the Greater American Douchebag, and should probably be avoided, especially if they think they can speak Japanese. Fourth person, they're a lucky one, with more money than you. Or something. Last person...They're going to get scoliosis in a serious way, and you're gonna slap them if they keep blocking the hall with their giant bookbag.
At least, that's what you'd assume if you were me. I have no doubt that not everyone's mind works this way, but we all do judge people based on appearance and how they act and speak. It's how we're programmed. Are you going to want to associate regularly with someone who wears their jeans up to their ribs, makes pokemon noises a lot, and thinks Sonic the hedgehog is sexy? I thought not. Sounds terrible, I know. (Take comfort in the fact that they conglomerate into groups, and are rarely without friends of their own.)
This peek into my cynical, judgemental mind brought to you by...5:56 P.M., the A.P. U.S. History exam stress, a bowl of spagetti with parmesan, PMS, and large amounts of Polish Prog Rock.
I'll post about my other nonfiction book in a little while.
Gladwell said that there are a lot of things that you can look at that will tell you about a person. That's true, at least. iPods are one good example, though not conclusive. Mine's full of a pretty large variety of stuff, so I really couldn't tell you what that signifies exactly. I don't listen to the stereotypical irritating music that a lot of people similar to me like, so either I'm a terrible judge of music, or they are. I'd go with them.
Maybe that's not a really good example.
So--the perennial example of the bag. Somebody, probably somebody old, once said that you can tell a lot about a woman from what she has in her bag. It's true. What would you assume about someone who carries around a sketchbook? A vampire book, like that annoying Eclipse series? A manga and a how-to-draw-your-own-(lousy)-anime book? A laptop? Someone who never seems to stop at their locker because they feel the inexplicable need to carry all their books around?
That's right. From the first, you'd assume "artist", though not necessarily good one. I've known some extraordinarily bad (to the point where it's gotta be some kind of talent) "artists" who carry a sketchbook everywhere. Second person, they have bad taste in literature and that there is a good chance they won't shut up about it. Third person, that they bear all the identfying marks of the Greater American Douchebag, and should probably be avoided, especially if they think they can speak Japanese. Fourth person, they're a lucky one, with more money than you. Or something. Last person...They're going to get scoliosis in a serious way, and you're gonna slap them if they keep blocking the hall with their giant bookbag.
At least, that's what you'd assume if you were me. I have no doubt that not everyone's mind works this way, but we all do judge people based on appearance and how they act and speak. It's how we're programmed. Are you going to want to associate regularly with someone who wears their jeans up to their ribs, makes pokemon noises a lot, and thinks Sonic the hedgehog is sexy? I thought not. Sounds terrible, I know. (Take comfort in the fact that they conglomerate into groups, and are rarely without friends of their own.)
This peek into my cynical, judgemental mind brought to you by...5:56 P.M., the A.P. U.S. History exam stress, a bowl of spagetti with parmesan, PMS, and large amounts of Polish Prog Rock.
I'll post about my other nonfiction book in a little while.
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