The Year Is Over

Actually the class was fantastic, and I am glad that I chose to take it.  I honestly just posted that video because I edited it and will never be able to use it for academic purposes ever again. If this video does not fit within your sense of humor, I apologize. Editing "child appropriate" things by adding inappropriate/unfitting music is a favorite hobby of mine. Some may find it to be in poor taste. For the purposes of legality I should probably mention that I created neither the song nor the film, and that I do not own either.

Thank you for your feedback and advice throughout the semester. I will keep what you taught/said in mind as I progress through my major and (hopefully) get a job writing for media. 

Gattaca and the School System

The film Gattaca (1997) offers an interesting view of what life could be like if science perfected the ability to determine all aspects of human life prior to birth. The social element related to discrimination was particularly intriguing, as I could certainly see it becoming a reality. Humans seem to crave a power structure of dominance, and if everything were able to be controlled genetically it seems reasonable that those who were not crafted to be perfect would be considered lowly, even if they had the potential to be amazing.

The conflict between talents and gifts, determination and fate, though common, is presented in a refreshing way. A story of triumph, Vincent is able to succeed once he is given opportunity to do so, despite the potential for him to die of a heart condition at any moment. He finds a loophole to operate within, albeit an illegal one, and disproves the notion that one is limited by their perceived potential. Raw talent and determination is able to beat those genetically engineered to be better. At the end of the film Vincent achieves his dream to go to space, while Jerome, a 'near perfect specimen', kills himself in a fire, unable to live with himself because he failed to succeed despite given every possible opportunity.

Interestingly enough, however, the film does not directly argue for or against eugenics itself. While those who are designed to be perfect are portrayed as snobby and judgmental, there is more emphasis on the need to the end discrimination, and there is in fact no call to end eugenics altogether. This makes sense as the use of eugenics within the film seems to simply be a metaphor for other social issues. Gattaca argues that all people have value, and that to hold someone back because of perceived potential does nothing to aid anyone.


Though a bit odd, I would like to tie this message back to the American school system. Schools judge children from an early age, categorizing them even in the first years of their elementary careers. "Smart" kids are told they are so, and are praised and awarded. "Dumb" kids are those who don't immediately shine, who aren't able to learn at the same pace as the "standard" kids in the middle, and who certainly don't compete with the "smart" kids. Children are divided into these levels, "smart", "standard", and "dumb" for the first time in kindergarten, and upward mobility is nearly impossible after this initial year. The "smartest of the smart" are often further tested, and categorized as "gifted", an elite bunch that are given special opportunities to shine outside of the classroom, presented with activities that the "lesser" children "simply cannot handle". As one goes down the scale opportunities are lessened and lessened as hope is lost and the children are set aside, their fate decided for them. School systems tend to disregard the potential of their lowest-achieving students without giving them opportunity to prove themselves otherwise. Half the time it seems these kids are only "lesser" because they were treated as lesser in their early educations, demotivated early on and determined to fulfill the prophecy they were given.

I had a lot of personal experience with these different intelligence levels in my public school career. Though tested for the gifted program, I failed, which came as a surprise. My sister and most of my friends were in the program however, which made me feel lesser. It actually really screwed up my self-confidence during elementary and middle school. Anyway, this hurt myself and the other elementary non-gifted students in multiple ways. First off, the best teachers were always put in charge of the gifted classrooms. While there weren't gifted enough kids to fill an entire class, they took up a good chunk of it, and on the day of the week when they were all gone to do their special activities the loss of their presence was really felt. Secondly, they were able to learn a lot more valuable material, which gave them real world applications to concepts the rest of us were merely imagining. While we lesser children were left to learn the basics, they spent the day playing brain games and solving puzzles, learning what was at that point upper-level (really just middle school) science, learning the fundamentals of engineering, and bonding into a tight-knit group. Finally, they would become upset if anyone else got to do a special activity, as they couldn't see how we were limited. To them the gifted activities were work, something that they had to do. They didn't appreciate what they had because they didn't know what it was like to go without. It seemed unfair to them that we ever got to "have fun" without them, despite us constantly living with the reverse.

In middle school, it didn't get much better, as the gifted kids from all the elementary schools were combined into the same "team", once again being given the best teachers and more advanced classes. The truest example of the division of better and worse students came in seventh grade, when my schedule forced me to be in the remedial science class. It was the only one that fit with my other classes, and I was told that there was no other option. I asked to be with the gifted students, which would have solved the issue without causing anyone else trouble (same team, would have simply flipped two of my classes), but they wouldn't allow it. God forbid they put me with kids who were, as they all admitted, on my level (but labeled above me). The class I was in was eye opening. The kids  were considered hopeless, tossed together so that they wouldn't "burden" anyone else. Thankfully the teacher did not see them that way, and though she sometimes had to explain things a bit differently she treated them the same as she did all the others. What I learned in that class was that those kids were good, valuable, worth the damn that the school wasn't willing to give them. Sure, there wasn't the "miracle story" where they all suddenly cared about their educations more than anything else, but while they were in there they really tried. The teacher saw that they had potential, and she worked to unlock it rather than just get them through. The second major division example came in eighth grade, when I was told the non-gifted history classes were learning only up to the late 1800s, while the gifted class continued through the roaring twenties and the two world wars. When I asked why we were being shorted such knowledge my teacher looked me in the eye, smiled, and said, "Well, although you could probably handle it, your peers probably couldn't." Limitation based on potential. Just as Vincent was held back, so were we. Reminder: we were twelve and thirteen. A bunch of preteens told we couldn't handle the truths of the world we would have to face as adults. In the years where we could be most influenced by the words of those around us, we were told that we were unworthy.

My high school didn't have anything to do with the gifted program, as most don't, and the leveling of the playing field allowed myself and many others to properly compete with and surpass many of the gifted kids (I was third in my class, beating out all but two of them). Once we were given opportunity we ran with it, proving that this categorization which had once held us back was nothing more than an obstacle for our success. Even kids who were told they would certainly fail enrolled in honors (and to a more minor extent AP) courses, where even if they didn't get A's they were treated like actual students. Limitations in the school system clearly did more harm than good for us.

Although more roundabout and less about Gattaca than I had intended, I think that it's important to note that limitation based on potential can affect a person's entire life. Categorization by the school system, while somewhat necessary, is handled entirely incorrectly. Kids who fall below the highest level are withheld from opportunities that could spark their passions or give real-world value to concepts on textbook pages. Kids who fall below the standard line are considered a burden and typically have few to no opportunities, often sitting in classrooms doing busy work rather than learning anything of value.  Students carry the labels they are given until they graduate, and they are treated differently because of them. I was told many a time that I had the intelligence and talents to succeed in the gifted classes, but was refused access because my transcript said that I couldn't. Though all students could take honors and AP classes in high school, many were talked out of them because guidance counsellors assumed they would fail and used this belief as a scare tactic. I'm not saying that everyone can succeed in all situations, because I know that's unrealistic. But everyone should be given the chance to succeed or fail. The problem with the school system is far more complicated than I could possibly get to here, as I could talk about it for hours. What I'm basically trying to say is that I think I enjoyed Gattaca as much as I did because I could relate to it. I'd experienced a struggle similar to Vincent's, and was able to succeed despite it.

People shouldn't be held back based on perceived potential, especially when the circumstances are out of their control. Kids shouldn't be considered lesser because they learn more slowly than their peers. Some kids talk sooner than others, but the later talkers sometimes communicate more clearly. Rather than forcing students forward we should focus on the learning itself. Students should be allowed to master concepts before moving on to the next one, and slower learning needs to be de-stigmatized.

Sorry to go off on another tangent there, and sorry about the length of this post. I'm just really passionate about the issue.

Brazil(the movie)'s Representation of Women

All of the women in Brazil (1985) are presented in ways that make them non-appealing, essentially ruining the movie, at least for myself.

Protagonist Sam Lowry's mother, Mrs. Lowry, and her friend, Mrs. Terrain, are portrayed as self-absorbed and beauty obsessed. Nearly all of their screen time is devoted to their cosmetic surgery addictions, whether they be alone and bragging or together and bickering. Their intelligence seems to be limited, and they are driven purely by their desire to be young and attractive again. The only saving grace offered is that they add an element of comedy to the otherwise drab film.

Mrs. Terrain's daughter is put forth as a forced love-interest for Sam. She is clearly undesirable, purposefully made boring and 'dorky' to act as a foil to the female lead,. She and Sam clearly don't get along, and her occasions of rudeness toward him (comments and dirty looks) are supposed to make her unlikeable to the spectator. While barely present in the film, her screen time is hardly bearable.

Mrs. Buttle's husband is dragged away from her and killed during government interrogation, wrongly accused of terrorism. While Mrs. Buttle is meant to show the emotions related to these horrific events, it is hard to sympathize with her because her emotional state leaves her practically silenced, a balling heap of tears that is meant to cause issues for the protagonist and his 'dream girl'. She is barely featured, shifting the example of the consequences away from the most innocent of its victims.

Finally Jill Layton, the lead female and love interest of Sam, is the worst of them all. Introduced at first as a heroic type, her character quickly degrades from determined and independent to male-controlled and in need of saving. When Sam first tells her of his dreams of her she tricks him into leaning against the door of her truck and kicks him out (literally). However, once he has climbed back into the vehicle he is able to finish his explanation and uses her driving skills to get them to safety. Rather than warning her of the danger she's in thanks to his governmental department, he tells her of his dreams and of her beauty. Once this distinction is accepted by Jill she becomes the woman in his dreams in reality, in need of his rescue and no longer able to function of her own will. She goes back to him even after he accuses her of being a terrorist, and sleeps with him despite his creepiness in the dream speech and his barely knowing her. It's as if she feels she owes him something, or as if he were somehow actually charming, neither of which are true. I must say that I was thrilled when she was murdered in front of him, as I found her character to be so horrifically written that I became physically angry whenever she appeared on screen. When she appeared at the end of the film I nearly threw my computer, but was satisfied entirely when the event was part of a dream brought on by torture.


This depiction of women is clearly a product of male dominance within the film industry, and goes against cyborg feminism as put forth by Donna Haraway. While technology has been integrated enough to call the people of futuristic Brazil cyborgs, the cyborg has not aided the feminist cause in the slightest. Work is not done within the home, and women themselves do not seem to have respected jobs; the lead female is a truck driver, and the only others seen with jobs work as secretaries, waitresses, and salespeople. Meanwhile, men are government officials, doctors, lawyers, military, etc. The woman's work is neither valued by the individuals she serves nor the state itself. The fact that the women are only featured for the sake of the males within the film is further problematic for feminism and Haraway. There is no sexless cyborg in this world, as gender stereotypes are magnified to clearly fit people into their binary category. Males have power and can incite change; females are powerless to these males and are affected by the changes around them. The terrorist trying to incite change is male, and his accomplices are also male. The government officials trying to maintain order are male. Even the male plumbers have some power, kicking Sam out of his home and causing trouble for him. Meanwhile, the main female is instructed on where to drive her own truck!


The female characters in Brazil and the ways in which they are treated make it possibly my least favorite film of all time. While the concept and plot had the potential to be enjoyable, the women in it made it nearly unbearable to watch, the fault of those who made it.

Morals, Surveillance, and Tactics

I must complain about my roommate once again.

As I was trying to think of a topic for this post, my roommate and one of her friends walked by, and they both gave me the most disdainful look I think I've ever received. I was actually quite offended. I have done nothing to this girl, ever, yet she seems to have some beef with me.

I previously penned her list of offenses, but will give a quick review: she keeps the room too goddamn cold, she stole my Twix bar, she plays her Netflix out loud while I'm working, she opens the window and leaves it open (even if she leaves the room FOR HOURS), and now she gives me these looks.

For a long time we lived in harmony. There was peace, some exchanges of small talk, even an occasional laugh. Now we're one small step from civil war. As I mentioned before, I don't know what the hell I did. I don't talk to her, I let her do what she pleases with the lights and the a/c (even if it negatively effects me). The only thing I can think of is that I often come in late, as I do my best work at night, but I rarely wake her up. The only logical explanation I can come to is that she thinks I'm weird and deserve to be punished for my lack of societal conformity.

Sometimes I wish I had hidden cameras in the room to track her movements and listen to things she says. However, my morals would have stopped me, even if I'd had access to said equipment. Tracking her in her own living space doesn't necessarily seem fair. One's room, even if shared, is supposed to be a private space, as a room is very personal. The place we sleep is supposed to be safe, free of unwanted observation or threat, and I know that if she were to film me and I found out I would take action against her.

I have been unable to think of a tactic that is properly vengeful. Anything I come up with could be too easily traced back to me, and I don't want to deal with the dorm's honor code nor university police. I keep advised to talk to her, but I'm too proud to do that. I'd rather suffer in silence than try to have a reasonable discussion with her. Whatever I say she'll complain about to her friends, and I don't want to hand her any "reasonable" excuse to dislike me.

Maybe I'll put a dead bug in one of her drawers. It's childish, but it would scare the crap out of her. There's nothing suspicious about a dead bug, is there?

*Note: I will probably not put a dead bug in her drawer, because then I would be forced to touch a bug. Also, I will not kill a bug to do this, as that is not fair to the bug. Even nasty things don't deserve to be killed for a childish revenge plot. I will post an update if this plan is implemented.

Running Behind

I think I'm one blog post behind (I'l catch up on that today) and many Facebook posts behind, as I know for certain that I am WAY behind on the final surveillance project. I know that I can catch up, because I'll have to, but I felt the need to make sure my awareness of my own procrastination was noted.

I often give the excuse that I "work best under pressure" to justify my lack of timeliness, and while that is partially true the real reasons for my procrastination are that I'm 1) forgetful and 2) incredibly demotivated toward all efforts until the consequences of said efforts are slapping me in the face.

Forgetfulness in this case is my explanation for the blog posts and Facebook updates. The post I'm behind on I forgot about because I was out of the state competing in an academic conference. Facebook, on the other hand, is just something that constantly leaves my mind. I hardly pay attention to my personal account, and while the false one is actually a lot more interesting to maintain, the realization that I need to update it typically comes when I am not able to sit down and pull a new theory out of the air. I know this is an issue, and to make up for it I'm creating a presentation on a theory that is rather large (~85 ppt slides). I will, however, continue posting smaller theories to try and catch up.

Now for the explanation of my demotivation until slapped by consequences. Basically it's a fancy way of saying "I'm lazy, but on a different level." It's not that I don't want to do anything, it's that I don't fully process the amount of work things are actually going to take, and I wait until the last minute to throw it all together in a blaze of glory. My ability to prioritize never matured past "selfish", in the sense that I won't do anything until I feel the need to, even if I'm told by others that I'm making a mistake by ignoring the said thing(s). I've been able to survive this type of lifestyle for nineteen years, which is problematic since it's probably going to catch up with me (likely in the next few weeks).  Just to give an idea of how far I've come with this, I'll give you the briefest possible synopsis of my AP testing career: I passed 10/11 of my tests (the one I failed I knew I was going to fail going in). Of the ones I passed, I studied for an "acceptable" amount of time (several hours at both home and school, and not just the night before) for 1/10. The only reason I did so was because I rather enjoyed the subject, as I could have passed without studying at all.


What I'm trying to say is that I was always the asshole who didn't really have to put any effort into anything to do well, and I know that I need to abandon that mindset. I'm sorry for falling behind, and I will get the work done.