Alex, Ian, and I went to the gym at 10 AM to play some basketball and we got a three-on-three game going but Alex and Ian were the tallest players, so they had to split up and cover each other-- which I should have known would be a disaster-- and Ian swatted at the ball for a steal with his long arm and hit Alex in the lip, drawing blood and scratching his face-- and then the two of them were at it, and they finally got into some kind of scrap over a rebound and Alex tossed Ian to the ground (he's bigger) and Ian punched his leg and Alex decided he'd had enough and walked home . . . they sorted it all out later but they might not be able to cover each other until they reach an age of enlightenment (they are seventeen and eighteen now . . . maybe in their mid-twenties they'll mellow out?)
Gold, Frankincense, and Bluetooth Hat
Fun Christmas: I got the kids some graphic novels (that I want to read as well) and my wife got me a bluetooth ski hat with speakers embedded in the fabric so I can listen to music while walking the dog in the frigid cold (and the dog got a sweater, which she really likes) and Netflix gave us a new Knives Out mystery, Glass Onion, which was totally entertaining and a great thing to watch with the family on a lazy Christmas day . . . thanks Netflix!
Xmas Eve Miracles!
Winter Break is Here!
Winter Break has arrived: we survived ChatGPTbotgate at school, I survived early morning basketball (and lit it up from outside . . . Merry Xmas from the basketball gods), Alex survived his engineering exams, and-- hopefully-- we'll survive this bomb cyclone super freeze . . . the temperature has dropped precipitously and we're holed up at home-- the dog is bored, Catherine and I are making tacos, Alex and his buddy Gary are watching the Festivus episode of Seinfeld in the basement-- but Ian is at work at the bubble tea place-- I can't imagine many people are coming in because it's so cold and windy but he won't be home until 10 PM, I hope it's not too ugly out then-- anyway, the presents are wrapped and under the tree, there's no school tomorrow, and it's nice to be warm and inside and drinking a beer.
Almost Break
Alex is home from college and Alex, Ian, and I watched an episode of Atlanta and ate some pizza and told stories about college and high school and ChatGPT . . . and it felt very normal.
The Robots Are Here and the Writing is Uncanny
We had a Rutgers grade calibration day and we found several essays that seem to have sections written by AI, probably ChatGPT . . . and this is more difficult to prove than old-school plagiarism-- you have to guess what the student typed into the prompt to get the chatbot to spit back out the weird stuff in the essay-- but you can tell the sections that are written by a computer . . . Stacey made an astute comparison to the idea of the "uncanny valley" in digital animation.
Early Morning Date with a Dead Dog
Adrift in the Digital Doldrums
New episode of We Defy Augury is up and streaming: "Adrift in the Digital Doldrums" . . . in this one I describe how to become a digital minimalist, how to solve all of America's problems, and how NOT to clean out a lint duct; cameo appearances from Bill Maher, Tristan Harris, and Alexander Supertramp.
Meta Action is Still Action, Right?
The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent, starring Nicolas Cage as a gonzo-version of himself, is entertaining, fun, and meta . . . and Pedro Pascal's understated emotion is the perfect foil to Cage's wild manic swings; this is the lighter version of JCVD . . . a similar premise, but Jean-Claude Van Damme plays a very dark version of himself . . . if you're going to watch one meta-action movie where the star plays himself, I would go with the Nicolas Cage one.
Let There Be Lint
Peanut Butter Hustle
At Least It Was Short
Once again, I got sucked into another ridiculous Blake Crouch sci-fi thriller: this one is the first in a trilogy and it's called Pines . . . it's pretty much Twin Peaks plus Winesburg,Ohio inserted into The Matrix.
I Need To Try Chick-fil-A
My Public Speaking students are giving informational speeches and I have learned I don't know anything: today I learned about Abby Lee Miller-- the crazy abusive dance teacher who hid assets and survived spinal cancer; I learned about the YouTube phenomenon called Sidemen Sundays; and I learned I am really bad at eating fast food . . . I've never had Popeyes or Chick-fil-A.
Croatia: All Feet on Deck
Croatia, with a population of 3.9 million, makes it to the finals of the World Cup in 2018 and the semi-finals of the World Cup in 2022 . . . very impressive . . . and they'll probably bury Luka Modric in the basement of a castle in Transylvania and then resurrect him for the 2026 World Cup.
Carrie Soto Is Wack
Sometimes You Win When You Don't Watch
Good week of sports for me: I managed to get to school early for both badminton and basketball, made it to the gym Saturday morning and played indoor soccer Sunday morning-- so now I'm pretty much immobile and very sore-- which will be perfect, since the Giants are on at 1 PM . . . and the World Cup games were fantastic, especially Croatia/Brazil and Argentina/Netherlands and the best sporting move that I made all week was that I completely forgot to watch the Rutgers/Ohio State basketball game on Thursday night, just blanked out and forgot about it . . . which was great because it ended with this debacle and if I would have committed to watching the entire game and then saw that ending, I probably would have had an aneurysm.
World Cup Woes
It's kind of nice when your country is eliminated from the World Cup because you can watch the games in a state of curiosity, awe, and general relaxation-- not that I told my British friends this nugget of wisdom after the disaster of the England/France game this afternoon . . . nothing worse than when your team totally dominates and your most overrated player-- according to these Brits-- skies a PK into the thirtieth row and you miss a chance to play Morocco to get into the finals . . . brutal stuff (and I feel quite bad for Harry Kane, but you've got to get that on goal and then if the keeper makes the play, good for him).
It's a Miracle . . . Now Shut Up and Do Your Work
We were brainstorming topics for an informational presentation in my Public Speaking class and some boys wanted to do a speech about how "Helen Keller isn't real" and I was like "what?" and they told me they just didn't buy it-- how could someone who couldn't see or hear write books and I told them the one thing I remembered about Helen Keller-- that the teacher poured some water on her hand and spelled out "water" and they were like "what about 'the'? how did she learn the word 'the'?" and I was like, "I don't know! go do some research" and this class is split in two by the lunch period, so I brought this up in the English Office and Cunningham was like "yeah! how did she do all that? how could she learn all those words?" and I was like "you need to go sit with the stupid boys in my Public Speaking class" and Cunningham was like "how could she learn all the words?" and I said, "they put stuff in her hand and spelled it" but now I was starting to doubt myself because that sounded absurd . . . and she was like "how did she learn abstract concepts?" and I said, "you pour water over her hand and spell 'water' for a couple days, and then one day you pour hot water on her hand and spell 'betrayal'" and then I spent the rest of my lunch period researching Helen Keller and apparently her teacher spelled millions of words on her hand, and she used a braille typewriter, and she felt cheeks and mouths and lips for vibrations to learn what words sounded like and there were always doubters of her abilities but she repeatedly proved them wrong and rode a bike and flew a plane and went to college . . . and I'm not exactly sure how she did all this, but I'm pretty sure she is real-- but I'm still hard-pressed to explain how it all happened.