a++ would smuggle into space again

From this month's Scientific American:

(NEUROBIOLOGY) Punishment for Harmony: Punishment may explain why most people live together in relative tranquility, according to the behavior of twenty-three male students who played an "ultimatum game."

The article then goes on to explain that not only is the sample size unbelievably pathetic, what happened to give this impression is that the person being punished had neural activity in regions associated with threat and impulse control.

PSYCHOLOGY, YOU ARE NOT A REAL SCIENCE. DON'T FUCKING TAKE NEUROBIOLOGY DOWN WITH YOU.

I'm feeling so untalented and eighteen just now I could kick myself. "Now I know what to do with my revolver."

Our school winter production went off well -- extremely well -- and I have actually just realised that if you google the play, you could possibly find my school website, so I will not say what it was, I will only say that it was awesome and I got to wear period clothing. One would think this would encourage my sense of self-esteem, but no, reading Feynman's memoirs, surfing deviantArt, and fucking up another social encounter has safely destroyed any lingering belief I may have had that I had -- once -- had talent somewhere. Lies! Those were lies.

(Which all makes me feel like the kid I babysat tonight. It's not faaaaaaaair! Why did my brother get to watch the Oscars and I didn't get to play video games? I won't get to play video games for a whole 'nother week! That's a long time! It's not faaaaair that he gets an extra ten minutes of reading. William Goldman knew what he was talking about. "Life isn't fair, for the rich they sing, life isn't fair. I got a cold wife, she's brilliant, gorgeous, our marriage is loveless, that's fine. I got a fat kid, he'll always be fat, even if he weighed a hundred he'd still be fat, that's fine too. Life isn't fair." Etcetera.)

Peter O'Toole didn't win tonight. More tragically, when I got to my job, the mother, our brilliant lesbian rabbi, was going "Oh, it's Jack Nicholson, oh, it's Gael Garcia Bernal." We pan over Peter O'Toole and she goes "Oh, it's some old guy." I splutter. She goes, "What? Who's the old guy?" I explain. She stares. We share a moment of loss. Peter O'Toole: That Old Guy Who Hasn't Won Anything.

That's the extent of my knowledge about the show! I hope people who like movies enjoyed it. Based on the showing of dopplegl the answer seems to be Y.

Surprise surprise! (July, July.) The computer up here has excitingly decided not to work, which means that the only really slow dial-up access I have is this school line that ... I think it's, what, half an hour of free access? Only the number's long-distance so I'm not so sure about this whole "free" thing. Anna? Any hints?

Anyway. This means that I will seriously not be around, to a degree that I did not previously understand. I weep, hugely, for this.

Please leave long rambly comments on this post about your life, as it will be very difficult for me to check my flist, but easier for me to check my Gmail. I love all of you like mad and will see you in ... a week and then again in another week.

This is fucking terrifying. Please read it; it's important.

(A law's on the boards in the UK. It will pretty much destroy Parliament if it's voted in; worse than the Patriot Act.)

ow fuck ow ow ow. if I make the handgesture in the icon my hands spasm and fall over.

arms. pain. can't really type. really really really can't hold a pencil.

got kicked out of math class for simultaneously typing an email to my mom and taking really shitty notes. oh well.

... there is no way I can say this hurts enough to let me go home, is there?

help help help.

however, on plus side, found out that there is a "women in science" conference at Aria's school on Wednesday. All day. a) Really really want to go for the coolfactor, b) if I went I'd be missing a titration lab in chemistry and spanish--boo fucking yah--and c) ARIA.

there are no words for the depth of the *score* embodied in my thoughts.

Hokay, so.

Due to an interim with my chem teacher--likely to be my best--I've discovered that, shockingly, I need to "apply myself more."

It's not really that much to ask; I'm a fairly intelligent student and if I can just sit down and do the damn work I do it, just fine, with some ease, although concentrating enough to get it done is always a problem.

So if you find me online, and I tell you I still have homework to do ... just kick me off. And my job: I won't go online until my homework due tomorrow is done, and I've studied. I also won't stay up past midnight. Ever. If this means getting off at 11:30 so I can read myself to sleep, then I'll do it, no matter how fun the log is that I'm writing, no matter how much I want to slack off.

Really.

Because I don't want to feel like the Zombie From The Black Lagoon Of No Studying that I do this morning ever again.

[/melodrama]

You know it's a bad sign when these lyrics seem to apply...

... ok, if you replace the alcoholism with general self-destructiveness, considering my idea of drunk is half a glass of wine on Passover:

( Baby Britain, Elliott Smith )

Yes, yes, whine, whine, moan, moan. La la la. How many of you would be interested if I started a "Margin Art" community for the posting of those lost gems of artwork?

I have an insane firewitch panicking in my head, say I.

I want her to stop insisting that Captain Mesmer is a danger to society and go to bed, or at least get over the panicky stage of this and into the far creepier really quiet stage, because at least then she'd let me sleep, dammit.

Maybe I can get Radmyr to knock her out bad thoughts bad thoughts

Well, I warned you all. You thought you would get off scot-free because I talked about Pratchett and so on as if I was well-adjusted? Think AGAIN.
( Teenage Whining About Singlehood cut for your convenience )

Ahem, anyway. Now that there are more than ten people on my friendslist, should I be investing in filters? Would there be anyone interested in NOT being on a "teenage whining" filter, a "writing angst" filter, or a "writing snippets" filter? Please, please respond. C'est important.

Actually, it has just begun raining, making me considerably happier. It's lovely and damp outside, and this means I'll get to walk home in the rain, which is so much more fun than it sounds right now.

Extraordinary Rendition

An article about legalizing torture. Oh, my holy god. There's a bill--the 9/11 Commision adjustments bill--that the Republicans in the House of Representatives have slipped a clause into. The clause says that America can send terrorists to other countries where they use torture and have them tortured. I...I frankly can't believe this.

Oh god.

Please link this in all your journals, people. *I'm* the farthest thing from a BNF of blogging possible, but some of you are, or have friends who are, or friends of friends. The power of the internet.