Caucasian

Have you ever seen the word Caucasian? Well, if you've ever had a questionnaire, you probably know that this word is used for the "white" race. The other day, I got to thinking that I've never been to Caucasia, so I wanted to find out about why white people are referred as Caucasian. I went to my good friend, Google, to find the answer, and here's what I came up with.

The origin is not Caucasia, but the Caucasus Mountains in Eastern Europe/Southwest Asia. Apparently, a German guy called Christoph Meiners used the term Caucasian in a 1785 book, and another German called Johann Friedrich Blumenbach picked up on this and expanded upon it. Caucasians, according to Meiners, had the "whitest, most blooming and most delicate white skin," while his other racial class (he only had two) were the Mongolians. Blumenbach wrote in his book, On The Natural Variety of Mankind:

"I have taken the name of this variety from Mount Caucasus, both because its neighborhood, and especially its southern slope, produces the most beautiful race of men, I mean the Georgian; and because all physiological reasons converge to this, that in that region, if anywhere, it seems we ought with the greatest probability to place the autochthones (birth place) of mankind."

Now, Blumenbach later tried to justify his classifications based on cranial structure or something like that, but his opinions were out there. Using the noggin and bone structure in addition to skin color, he decided that beauty was more than skin deep when it came to archetypes for the Caucasian race, but since he was considering a racial classification for himself, of course this race would be the best of the best while the others were Mongolians (never really a term I've heard in high regard).

Now, while we use Caucasian today, it turns out that the term used for awhile was Caucasoid along with a couple of others: Mongoloid (which I've mentioned) and Negroid. I really can't imagine why we don't use these classifications today.

So after some time, Caucasian came to refer to those of us who are generally of European descent, but it is worth noting, for those of you that care, that the Caucasian race was considered by those who originally named it to be the most beautiful of people and the parent race for all humanity. For that reason, I will have no problem marking Caucasian proudly from now on.

Happy Birthday to The Queen

Today is a very important day in the history of my world. On this day a certain number of years ago (law enforcement can be assured it was at least 18), the Queen was born. The heavens opened and the spirit of the Lord descended upon a hospital not far from where I work, looked upon an unassuming family, and said it was good. She would become the favorite of a being who was very old and very kind (when he wasn't a complete jerk) and a raving lunatic of a genius whose talents would someday be known far and wide. She would be the only one to understand him completely, and the only one that he trusted with his life and secrets. Without her, he would be utterly alone.

No, this isn't a guessing game.

That is how I feel about The Queen. I met her in high school (and possibly knew of her before then), and really became acquainted with her on a band trip to the Fiesta Bowl in Arizona. I spent a lot of time with her during our Washington DC trip when she was sort of fawning over the guy I refer to as Crackhead, but never had the courage to say anything at the time. Fast forward four years.

My brother asked if I wanted to go to the homecoming football game. I am not a fan of football, but I had nothing better to do, so I went. Best decision ever, because that's where I met her again. I recognized her immediately, of course, and had to negotiate my way across a locked gate (something that lasted exactly one game). Metaphorically, I was told that if I crossed that gate, I could never come back. She was waiting on the other side, and I wanted to be with her, so I agreed to never come back, and I passed through the gate.

I still don't regret it.

Happy birthday, gorgeous. Love you forever.

Male Fashion

So recently, there was this MTV award show where Miley Cyrus and Robin Thicke did a performance where this happened.

All the good jokes have been taken, and really, this is a big enough joke by itself.

Cracked actually did an excellent article already concerning their impressions of the symbolism of the show, but I would like to point out something that most people overlook. Once you get over what she isn't wearing, look at him. Compare the two. This is a quintessential example of the progression of fashion in our world. Women wear less and less, while the men kind of stay exactly the same.

While his suit would be out of place from a pattern perspective a hundred years ago, if you change the fabric alone to a plain blue or grey, he could walk into the 19th century and be fine. The tailoring of his jacket is definitely old school down to the notched lapels. It has been done to death already that it looks like Beetlejuice's suit.

By contrast, she is running about in her underwear.

This is the modern expectation. It makes me glad sometimes that I am male and I don't have to worry about anything changing...ever. Everything in my closet is in style, always has been in style, and always will be in style. I don't ever have to change my hair because hair styles for men also don't really change. Women's hair styles changed in the time it took me to write this article.

Now, I know there are some trends that change now and again, but there is a gauge one can use to determine whether it will be around tomorrow: was it here yesterday? This gauge only works for men stuff, though. As far as I know. I'm not a fashion expert.

What I do know is that when it comes to my simple, non-trendiness, I can pull anything out of my closet and wear it probably forever without it coming off as dated. Again, it's good to be a male.

It's also worthwhile that my stuff never changes since I'm in a house with four girls. Just like computers, their clothes are out of style as soon as they pay for them. Oh well.

Taking Turns at the Garage

Remember back in school when you had to wait in a long line of kids to get anything done? You know that even after growing up, you still have to do that, right? Yet, there are a lot of people who are extremely impatient, and even believe that they don't need to wait in line. Maybe they're actually too important to wait in line and should be able to skip it. Some amusement parks even have VIP lines where those with the cash can get a special card to skip the long lines for the working stiffs.

The parking garage where I work has two gates that are side by side. You pull up, put your card in front of the scanner, and it opens the gate. My general impression of the system is that the right gate is to go up the ramp and the left gate is to turn left once you get in to the down the ramp into the basement area. This second gate would also be used for load balancing the entry point so if you have a lot of cars, both gates can be going simultaneously so that there isn't a line backing up to the main road. However, at the time when I arrive, there is no need for load balancing because there's no line.

But inevitably, when I am on the ramp side, someone pulls into the basement side, their window down and hand hanging out with their access card in hand. Their impression is that this weirdo in the ramp lane will not be as fast as they are and they can get the jump on me to get up that ramp first ... at 5 mph. Obviously, because I was there before they arrived, my gate opens first and in I go, and they try to whip in first and fail, ending up "stuck" behind me. Oh darn. Maybe he's afraid I'll take "his" space.

To be fair, there have been quite a few times, the parking garage tailgater was a woman. I wouldn't want to discriminate and say men are the only sex that is completely selfish while driving, would I? Everyone is equally capable of being a jerk to their fellow human on the road and in the parking garage.

Seriously, though, this is a parking garage. It's not a race to see who can get in first, yet some people think that life is a big race. Just this morning, I was cruising along the highway to get to work (at or about the posted speed limit), and I saw a truck who had just entered suddenly nail the gas to pass me to settle in front of me (instead of taking the quite ample amount of space behind me in the same lane). That car length was important, just like that one car length to get up in the parking garage. I've had people go so far as to pass me on a two-laned road to get that one car length only to take the next turn into a gas station. The one car length could not have been that beneficial to their time.

I can only imagine that these people have stress lines on their foreheads, and lead a generally very angry and migraine-filled life, and they cannot figure out why they're so stressed and tired all the time. Easy solution to the problem. Drive like I drive (because I am a human archetype, of course).

I approach driving with a two fold understanding of the process. First, I cannot control anyone else on the road. They're going to go as fast or as slow as they go, and no matter what I do, I won't be able to get to my destination any faster than those other people can get there. Therefore, I chill out and drive behind them at whatever speed they happen to go. Now, if they go 25 in a 50, I'll likely get around them, but I usually just set the cruise for the speed limit, chill out, and let it ride while listening to the radio. It's nice. Second, everybody is trying to kill me. I don't trust anyone on the road, and I watch them all constantly. Setting that cruise frees up my mind to watch the rest of them with my foot hovering over the brake just waiting for someone to get out of line.

I've only had one accident since 1997, and that was because I was late for work, and not paying attention while trying to get there faster than (let's face it) I actually could get there. It wasn't my fault because the guy ran into me, but if I'd followed my own rules, it would not have happened.

An Awkward Moment

So there are times when it's best to keep your fool mouth shut, and boy did I run into one of them today. We have a new chap in the office, and I had heard that he was expecting a child at any time. I learned today that the expectant mother is his girlfriend when a co-worker (who walks past his desk) asked about where he was. I selected that very moment to comment that being unmarried in that situation is a negative reflection of character.

Why would I make such a comment? Because it would be a statistical truth. Marriage is a legal commitment wherein you have decided in the eyes of the law to bind yourself to a particular person for life (or until you throw a tantrum or whatever). Legally, it takes a bit of doing to unmake a marriage. If unmarried, you are not legally bound to the other person in any way, no matter what you experience together. Sure, you have an emotional commitment, but emotions are fickle.

Therefore, if a couple have decided to spend their lives together to the point that they want to bring in a child together (and whether it was planned or not, they still made that decision "together"), why would they not take the step to legally commit to the relationship. That's not a question I can answer for anyone, but I'm only left with statistics, stereotypes, and stories. All of those things point to someone who has a problem with commitment. Someone who deals in "What ifs".

That is why it would a negative reflection on character, regardless of any moral opinions of the matter. You see, the character observation has absolutely nothing to do with the "living in sin" ideal. It's a simple notation that someone who won't marry for some reason generally has commitment issues. I didn't even hear the young woman referred to as a fiancee, which at least implies that eventual commitment, but just as a girlfriend.

I commented that if you were given the choice of trusting the person who had the pregnant girlfriend or the person married for twenty years, who would you go with? The response was obviously the person married for two decades. That person has shown that they can not only commit, but can overcome the common pitfalls of marriage as well as cooperate with another person in life. It speaks volumes of a person's character.

Now, why am I bringing this up? Because in all good comedies there's that moment where everyone starts looking away, and the speaker stops, closes their eyes, and asks if the person was standing behind them. Yeah, he was there. He did hear the conversation. Awkward moment had.

In the end, he kind of blew it off, but still, if I were confronted, I would simply ask why they had decide to not get married. The answer would not be for my benefit, because strictly speaking, I don't care. The answer isn't for me. I can't do anything with it, and I could predict most of the token responses to such a question. This is a question he would need to ask himself and honestly evaluate the answer.

I don't often open for discussion, but I'm always open to be proven wrong. What do you think of this character observation?

Child of Eden

As you must be aware, I am a big gamer. Been playing video games since the Atari 2600, actually completed the original Contra game in two lives (died once at the boss at the end, ugh), and have owned nearly every Nintendo system up to the Wii (can't see any games I want to play on the Wii U). I am presently embroiled in the Xbox 360 where I am definitely an achievement hunter, though a friend of mine calls me a achievement whore, which is completely untrue since I really enjoy playing the games but the achievements give me an extra layer of play. I've only had the Xbox since December 2011, but I'm doing all right for a veritable newb on it.

Anyway, what I'm coming to you on here is a game called Child of Eden.

Pictured: What Dante saw on his way down.

This game boats Kinect controls on a rail shooter that is reminiscent of the old Mind's Eye videos. It's a visual trip and rather enjoyable to watch. However, as a Kinect game, it was a nightmare to play. Normally, Kinect games can wear you out because of their physical nature (some more than others). This one just left me sore. That was last January (as in 2012).

However, since I took on a mantle of achievement hunter, I started going through all the games I'm stuck with and reborrowing/renting them to see about getting a few more achievements here and there. My Mixer friend had this game and absolutely hated it as well. I did some reading and found someone loved the game Rez HD, which was the precursor to this game and made by the same developer, and they played through this one as well. They really liked it, but played it all with a controller instead of the Kinect. When they talked about the Kinect controls, they indicated that it was interesting, but recommended using the controller the first time. I figured I'd give it a try, and my friend was all too happy to be rid of it.

I read up on the achievements, popped it in and had a go.

Mmm, trippy...

It was easier to play, but man, it is a very difficult game. I haunt a site called trueachievements.com, and that site gives what's called a true achievement ratio based on how many gamers have acquired a particular achievement versus how many have started the game (started is defined as having at least one achievement). Generally, the higher the ratio, the harder it is to get the achievement.

Child of Eden has some of the hardest achievements among every game I currently have started, which is 96 of them as of the time of this writing. Yeah, out of 96 games, Child of Eden dominates the upper end of the scale. Sometimes, this just indicates that people start games but never finish them, but in the case of this game, I believe it. not only is it devilishly hard just to finish a level (on normal, by the way; there is a hard level as well), there are achievements for hitting every enemy and getting persistent multipliers on every level on both difficulties.

I tried variously going for all enemies and high score on level one. Have yet to do it. There is an achievement for gathering all collectibles. This one involves playing all five levels...12 times each. I really should have included that one in my dumb achievements post. Talk about artificially extending gameplay.

What do I think of the game itself? Well, the graphics are gorgeous. The actual game mechanics are nice and easy to learn. When I set the difficulty on free play (can't die), it's kind of nice. But man, trying to play the game itself is nightmarish, probably because I keep getting wiped out. And go ahead and try the Kinect, but expect to play the game with the controller.

Images from Child of Eden

Alarm Clocks

I don't know about you, but I have this sort of love-hate relationship with my alarm clock. Without this necessary little machine, I simply could not get out of bed in the mornings to go to work. This is not because I want to stay in bed all day. I actually dislike sleep. Find it to be a waste of valuable time. Still, the body needs it, so I deal.

Enter the alarm clock. Because I would rather be awake, I never get enough sleep. This is one reason I wonder to bed after midnight quite often. I like down, pass out, and only a handful of hours later, there is this rather intrusive noise. The sleeping mind cares only about one thing: sleep. It also, apparently, has no idea how to work an alarm clock, so everyday is the first day it has ever seen one. It thinks, "The noise is coming from this area and must be stopped." It finds the source. "What is that?" it thinks. I have had the same alarm clock for the last 14 years, yet my sleeping, subconscious mind find it to be a new and fascinating archaeological find whose secrets must be discovered.

It has numbers ... and speaks. Such power...

I recall standing there in the dark, feeling of the cube thing that is making a racket (either singing or just beeping - I have to change it up ever so often or I just sleep through it). "How do I work this thing?" my subconscious wonders. There are buttons on it, and surely one of them makes it work. I press the handle to open the lot loading CD tray. Nothing happens! I tap it over and over, but still nothing happens. "I can't shut it off!" I think in a panic. I know there is a switch on the side that turns it completely off, but I don't want to do that just in case I fall back asleep (like it's an involuntary thing). Eventually, the caveman subconscious hits enough surface area on the cubic alarm clock to make it shut up. Of course, not remembering how it worked at the time, I am not sure if it is completely shut off or just snoozed.

Then, somehow, once that is all done, it believes that the dream state can be recovered if only I go back to sleep. The other times when I go back to bed, it uses the complete lie that I'm only lying down to rest until the alarm clock goes off again. After all, that is what the snooze button is for, right? Most of the time, I do actually fall for it since the conscious mind is not quite awake yet. Sometimes, it is in the background yelling and trying to talk me into staying awake.

And I assure you that neither of us are schizophrenic. That would be crazy.

So when I wake up at 6:45, my conscious mind curses the subconscious for allowing it to oversleep again. I am forced to jump out of bed, throw my clothes on and run out the door. I am simply grateful that I have a job where my arrival time is simply when I say I plan to be there rather than a strictly enforced and disciplined deal where being late is a strike to being written up. I'd be in so much trouble.