Layers like a carrot

Sometimes while browsing our great Internet, often with stumbleupon, digg or just following links posted to Twitter, I find things that change the way I think about the world. The image on the left is one of these things.

Frankly don't even know where to begin. This image is so rife with amazing detail, nearly every element speaking volumes that it is difficult to choose a starting point.

The most obvious individual in this picture is, of course, the aspiring rock star. He almost looks like a young Jack Black – with the aggressive facial expressionn, rocking guitar stance, and baby fat that implies. Furthermore, I respect his enthusiasm, especially considering crowd he's performing for. He is dedicated to his art, giving his entire heart to the performance, letting out a primal scream from the very depths of his being. It is obvious that the rest of his family do not support him in his efforts, as none are giving him any attention despite the intensity and presumed volume of his display. What is more important to this boy's family members than his musical endeavors? Let us consider each in turn.

On the left we have a woman with her hand on her cleavage. This begs the question: why? Does she have an itch? Is she just adjusting her shirt? Careful analysis of the image yields an unsettling answer, one that requires taking a closer look at the second woman to the right of the image. Notice the position of her hands and the direction of her gaze, as well as the laughter of the first woman. One can only conclude that these two individuals are playing a game of "breasketball", a game typically played by adolescent males in which players attempt to toss objects into the cleavage of another individual (often a female, or obese male). Why two women of advancing age have chosen to engage in this pastime is one mystery one cannot solve by merely analyzing this image.

As we come to the final individual captured here in medias res, we realize that this is no innocent picture of a family moment. Unnoticed by the other members of the family (excluding the person behind the camera - more on that next) the pants of this man – presumably the patriarch – are not entirely on. While some may ask, "why?" as we did before with the two woman, the true question here is one akin to the classic "glass half full/half empty" dichotomy – is this man putting his pants on, or taking them off? How we answer this question has a profound impact on the tone and connotations of this image. In the first scenario, we make the more innocent, yet still bizzare, assumption that he was merely caught unawares, and is rushing to pull his pants up. Perhaps he was even listening to the boy, and only when it was necessitated by the impending threat of being photographed did he seek to rectify the integrity of his dress. Then there is the other side of the coin, the darkside of the moon, a clockwise coriolis effect if you will. In this scenario, the man is in fact removing his pants. The potential sinister motives behind this act are even more unsettling than the act itself, and in the interest of the little faith you may still have in humanity, I will not explore them.

This of course leads us to the final character in this tableau – the photographer. When regarding any image, one must always consider what it reveals about the individual who chose to capture it. Who are they? What brought them to this moment in time? Why did they feel the need to release the shutter at that precise moment? These are questions each viewer must answer for themselves. In the act of viewing, they become that final party. A photographer seeks to reveal something to the viewer in their pictures – but it is ultimately up to the viewer to make a determination of what that is. I myself, in sharing with you what I saw here, became a part of this event. I have formed a relationship, however tenuous, with each character in the scene, and that in turn has taught me something about myself.

This image of what first appears to be a simple family moment reveals so much more upon closer inspection, and I hope you, the reader, will take time in the future to seek the deeper meaning in the things you find on the Internet. This is truly a world of wonder.

- Nick

A final word:palaver

Follow me, me, me

I could be called a Twitter evangelist. I find reasons to bring it up in conversations that have little to nothing to do with the Internet, technology, or social networks. I share information about my mundane life as a college student with those few who care enough to listen. I've even gotten a few of my friends to try it as well.

This being said, I still find Twitter odd. Looking at it objectively, its a fucking weird concept. The guy behind it explains it like this. Wikipedia says it's a social network and micro-blogging service. My friend Andy says it's dumb. The question "What is Twitter?" returns about 239,000 results on Google, including www.whatistwitter.com. I see twitter more like these guys, people "shouting into the darkness" in a desperate bid for relevance.

Twitter feeds the ego like Taco Bell's 79¢ 89¢ 99¢ Why Pay More™! Value Menu – filling, but harmful in the long run. The little rush you get each time you're @ replied or RTed is akin to that of applause. Adding to the inflated sense of importance are celebrities who everyone follows in a conscious or subconscious effort to establish a "relationship" with these figures.

This being said, there is a positive side to twitter. Its nice to see what my friends (the real ones that I actually talk to in real life) are up to during the day. We share links to articles and websites we think others will enjoy, ask questions, and share the funny moments others might have missed. Instead of "you had to be there" it's "yeah, I saw that on Twitter". You get out of Twitter what you put into it, and those users that do nothing but post "eating breakfast" soon lose interest in the service.

I'm positive that nearly everyone who will read this is a Twitter user. Feel free to adopt or borrow anything I've said when talking to the nontweeting masses. In the off chance you aren't on Twitter, or still haven't found value in it, I suggest finding a group of friends, an existing one, and join together. As founder Evan Williams says, Twitter is one way, asymmetrical, it's up to you, the user, to make something social out of it.

...my latest attempt

Since you apparently have to do something for each day of the week on one of these, I will be profiling my foolish and futile attempts to become more "cool" every Monday. Also, Sunday's I will dedicate to a movie currently in theaters. I'm still working out the rest of the week.

I have always found myself drawn to the world of skating, boarding and things "extreme" in general. This attraction has always been diametrically opposed to my generally cautious, reserved and wussy nature. Besides skiing, none of my chosen activities could be described as dangerous or risky.

Today, however, I have taken the plunge and have decided to pick up longboarding. Anyone on the PSU campus has probably seen a longboarder riding to class with that weird zig-zag motion. Developed to give the feel of surfing or snowboarding on land, longboards are a more functional and graceful version of their shorter bretheren.

After careful consideration I decided on a Loaded Dervish model, pretty much exactly what these guys are riding:


So, it's going to be awhile until I actually can do anything cool (let alone get to class), but I think the experience will be a formative one.

Leaving Las Vegas 2: The Returning

Cage has become something of a joke, a proud I don’t give a f---! hack-for-hire who sells out his gifts with such unabashed promiscuity that it’s almost as if he were daring you to call him on it.

- Owen Gleiberman, EW.com

Now, I enjoy a bit of Cage bashing now and again, as does anyone who fancies themselves a film critic, but I completely agree with the argument put forth by PopWatch blogger Owen Gleiberman in his recent analysis of Cage's career.

The man is an actor. He has more Academy Award and Golden Globe nominations than most actors will ever dream of getting. Roger Ebert claims he should be on the list with De Niro, Nicholson and Pacino. Whatever role he takes, he goes all out, whether dying of alcohol poisoning in a hooker's arms or running around in a bear suit punching women, he is the character.

I admit I went to I Love You, Man instead of Knowing this weekend, but I do plan to watch it when I get the chance. Both Gleiberman and Ebert call the film entertaining, which frankly is enough of an endorsement for me. I believe there is a difference between movies and films, one made as entertainment, the other a work of art (I'll save the full exposition for another Monday).

Knowing may not be a deep, moving, Leaving Las Vegas-esque evaluation of the human condition, but if it's half as entertaining as National Treasure, it's worth watching.