Eleventh is a quiet blogiversay; we can celebrate it with a whisper. Dailiness yields to infrequency, ambivalence, monthliness, forgetting. But I haven't missed a blogiversary in ten years, so why would I skip the eleventh?
This time around I spent part of the evening rivaling Is. in a few hands of Uno: deal seven cards apiece, turn from the stockpile until setting down a numbered card, and pick-flip, pick-flip, pick-flip, pattern-matching until someone wins. Until Is. wins, mostly. And we kept track again in a Google Spreadsheet, a why-not? carry-over from the spreadsheet micro-lessons and practice I mentioned the other day--basic stuff like sizing cells, entering data, cascading rudimentary formulas. This is what it amounted to:
Leonard Cohen supplied a soundtrack for a few rounds, so we modified the scoresheet with team names from titles among his greatest hits. Who By Fire outdid So Long, Marianne, ten hands to six. No need to laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all again.
In this dream, some kind of simulacrumby glitch struck my U's research-focused marketing push; the banner hung, repeating images, like the Hollywood Square grid dangling from the parking garage. This is what parking garages dream of?
I don't know what kind of comment this is on tomorrow's start of the semester, a visual rhetoric grad class, an online style class (piloting, or rather crash-imminent-piloting Canvas), a metric crap-tonne of meetings).
Besides semester-readying, after this photo and its Photoshopping (in consultation with Is.), I was thinking more about What's the right time for acclimating to the kinds of photographic worlding (knowing, seeing, capturing for altering and then circulating) a program like Photoshop makes possible? Comparable but parallel and thus only but so relevant a thread of thought on Excel, too, spreadsheeteracy or whatever, which we spent some time on over the holiday break, too. Another entry someday, teaching spreadsheets with Unolytics, making kiddo enter the data.
Already ambling, but the blog's next year (oof, yet another) needed a nudge, an anything whatever to bump everything into 2015. This is it.
Somehow, the dark sun will illuminate us. (555)
This, leafing again through Sirc's "Godless Composition, Tormented Writing," for tomorrow's grad class, third to last of the semester. Reading this line again makes me think that Bataille's wonderment is thick in the ground just beneath the site where the still-unbuilt hacienda would if it could one-day stand.
03/02 04:31 PM/@derekmueller: Chambers: "I think this is a pretty safe song, but I don’t know." Article fails to mention the song he picked. My guess is one of the following. But which one? via Facebook
02/09 04:46 PM/@derekmueller: And on a mid-February Monday. via Facebook
02/08 01:46 PM/@derekmueller: Half-considering retitling July WPA presentation on panel about the generative potential of ambivalence from "Shrug Professionalism" to "The Slacktivist WPA." Among proofs of concept would be in writing script on several fast food restaurant napkins during cross-country drive to Boise, posting photos of noteskins on Instagram. via Facebook
02/02 09:01 AM/@derekmueller: Eyes-melt for all you snowbounds. via Facebook
01/12 03:46 PM/@derekmueller: Perfectly timed for upcoming contract negotiations. via Facebook
01/08 02:31 PM/@derekmueller: Similar to methods for temporarily hosting the new batch of common house (campus?) flies at my Pray-Harrold office window most mornings. via Facebook
12/31 10:16 AM/@derekmueller: Online course prep in new (and poorly migrated) CMS and impending semester to blame for seeing EMU in the cover image's graffitied lettershapes? via Facebook
12/30 11:16 AM/@derekmueller: Two-day fr-fr-frigi-documentary makes today's 20F and sunshine in SE Michigan feel ~tropical. May it warm (relatively) whatever else is coldly felt inside or around you. via Facebook