. . . an article that might actually result in renumeration. Therefore, blogging will theoretically be lighter than usual this coming week. Or human nature will kick in, and I'll be online 24/7. One of the two.

Also, I'm expecting to hear more in the "comments" sections from people who don't usually chime in. Remember: you are graded on class participation as much as on your test grades. Raise your hands!

Posted by: Attila at 12:23 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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. . . at a friend's house recently, when we heard someone refer to Dick Clark as "the world's oldest teenager."

"I thought I was the world's oldest teenager," I remarked.

"No," my friend corrected me. "You're the world's oldest child."

Glad we got that straight.

Posted by: Attila at 07:49 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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My mother called me today to leave me the address where my young cousin is . . . incarcerated. He's in a juvenile facility for what I would call "knocking a kid off his scooter," and the law called "assault." A felony.

I'm supposed to send him a birthday card. Looking through my records, I realized that I never did write down his birthday—and I've managed to space two others this very week. Obviously, I need a new tickler system that can help me practic assholism-avoidance.

I don't think I've known many people who were in prison. For years I believed my father had been in prison a couple of times, but it turns out it was only jail. (Once, Mexican jail—which probably means a shakedown, but I don't think my mother or either set of grandparents knew that at the time. They were all good Methodists, equally ill-equipped to deal with either my father's shenanigans or corrupt Mexican officials.)

Let's see. Before I turned 18 I was caught shoplifting, but let go without any charges being pressed. I got arrested at the age of 15 for being drunk in public: a friend of mine and I had gone off with a couple of guys we thought we knew, who plied us with cheap wine. I'd always been light, and it didn't take too many to send me into a blackout. My mother took it out on me for a few days, and then she took it out on my brother, in a series of events that ruined his emotional life. Of course, his realization of my mother's rage-aholic nature helped him to see that our mother-daughter conflicts weren't always my fault, and I had an ally after that.

I've always related to my young cousin, in a certain way, when he started rebelling against authority. I've always wished I could help him somehow. He's never been good in school, but I don't set too much stock in that. He's not an intellectual, but he's reliable, steady, and a sensitive kid. (Yes: in a kiddie prison, that last one has me worried.)

And now he's somewhere where I can't reach him, at a juvenile facility where he's potentially being taught how to be a criminal. And there's nothing I can do, except to send him a birthday card that isn't too "cutesy." (Apparently, they have to open their mail in front of the other juvenile offenders, and he got teased because one of us sent a card with bunnies on it.)

I could make one by hand, I guess--

The cover: black background, saying "ANYONE WHO FUCKS WITH YOU"

Inside: "will find themselves ventilated like Swiss Cheese by 40-caliber bullets."

Signed: "Love, your Glock-packin' cousin."

I dunno. It's a bit butch. Might even set a bad example. I don't want my niece, my young cousins, or my younger sister to have to carry—or even necessarily own—firearms (other than the .22 target pistol every person, no matter how liberal, should own). I only want them to let me know who is messing with them. I will buy the appropriate plane ticket, take care of the situation, and either extract a promise of good behavior or dispose of the body.

Civilization and its discontents, huh? Well, we can deal with my anger— and my budding sociopathy—later on. So far, no bodies in the backyard, since my husband doesn't want to have to buy lime. He's so narrow-minded. But, you know: everyone has his little peculiarities.

So why my macha swaggering, here? It comes from a sense of powerlessness and fear. I understand that I'm supposed to surrender, but I have no talent for that. At this moment it's impossible to assimilate the notion that my cousin is almost certainly going to get beaten up at some point over the next nine months, and might get raped.

Given that I'm not going to do any of the things that would serve those kids right if they touched a hair on his head, I'll just ask for you to pray for a scared kid in a Northern California juvenile facility who might come out of this okay, and might become a genuine criminal when all is said and done. I believe in redemption. I believe this could "scare him straight." But my fears go in the other direction. If you believe in any higher power, intervene on his behalf. If you don't, send him good vibes: that can't ever hurt.

He's a good kid who's made some bad choices. Let's call him "William." Do what you can for Will, okay?

Posted by: Attila at 02:49 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Despite my rather modest traffic, I'm now at #276 in the Ecosystem rankings, up from my usual 550-600 range. Of course, I'm not altogether sure how these are determined—as I understand it they involve actual hits, links, and the quadratic equation.

Meanwhile, my friends from Siggraph are expecting me to provide more convention coverage from my party-hopping tonight. I'm thinking a little sleep first would be terrific, since I have to get up early in the morning to leave some donations on the front porch for Vietnam Veterans of America.

Here's the short story: Party 1 at the Hyatt, Party 2 at Ciudad. Some spirited discussion among computer graphics people on whether it's better to go into industry (as 3 out of 4 of my friends did), or to pursue an academic career (that's one of us, plus another friend who's an academic in another field—note that I say "us," though I've never written a computer program that actually got run on a machine, not ever).

And by far the grooviest thing: there are now plenty of young women who are studying computer graphics. Things aren't as they were 20 or even 10 years ago, when most of the women present were there through an interest in art, and had little or no handle on the technical angles of how to make the pretty pictures happen. There's a whole new crop of whip-smart computer science students who are tackling the complex problems this field represents right now, and a decent number are from my side of the sex fence.

I sat with one of the more talented young women studying at Georgia Tech, and realized that at least one of my friends--and possibly another acquaintance of his--was intensely interested in what she had to say. I tried to tell myself it was because of her mental acuity, but who knows?--she was a stunning and poised young lady.

A good night, all in all. Details later.

Posted by: Attila at 03:47 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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