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She Shoots, He Scores

EA Sports has a feature in its NHL 15 game that allows you to create a player, with the option of starting with either a male or a female. But apparently someone forgot to tell the announcers.

I usually play what they call GM Mode, which allows you to take control of both personnel moves and play the actual games. I wanted to boost our lineup with a new left winger, so I created a female player named Nadja Backstrom, the fictional (as far as I know) younger sister of star center Nicklas Backstrom.

See, clearly female. She doesn’t get a lot of playing time on the fourth line, but she’s easily the fastest skater on the team. That leads to occasional breakaways when she’s on the ice, and in a game I played this morning she managed to score twice.

The announcers though, are locked into male pronouns. When she gets the puck, “he” gets the puck. When they talk about her speed being an asset, “his” speed is an asset.

Even the neat dipsy-do move and game-sealing goal didn’t earn Nadja the basic pronoun respect she deserves. Maybe next time she’ll have to fire a slapshot up into the announcer’s booth the get some results.

Or if EA is going to have the option for female players, it could put more than seven seconds into coding and voicing and add language that actually makes sense.

February 27, 2015 Uncategorized video games
Peace Lottery

There are a lot of conflict spots in our world. Some of them have been going on for weeks, while others have endured for years or decades.

I have a half-baked, overly simplified, complicated plan to end them all. In six months.

First, the United Nations proposes and passes this plan, which may be the most difficult (and meta) step of the entire process. Ideally I would need a Security Council resolution, and finding that unanimity among some countries that would be subject to said plan would be challenging.

But let’s assume for the sake of thinking this all out that everyone agrees to move forward.

We declare that six months from now there will be a global peace conference to resolve all conflicts involving two or more nations, or civil ones. Each side then has those six months to present their proposed solution, which then must be approved by a simple majority of the U.N. General Assembly to ensure it’s not a crazy idea. Propose something too radical and it gets rejected, and you have one more chance to come back with something more sane. Fail again, and the General Assembly votes to knock off whichever portion they still don’t like, and that’s your side’s plan.

In addition to each party to each conflict, the peace conference also has a set of wild card nations. These countries will be chosen so that somewhere in the room, we have a few friendly, neutral-ish and not so friendly countries for each party.

From there, it’s really simple. We put a conflict up on the board — say Israel and the Palestinians — then fire up our lottery style ping pong ball machine. Inside there are countries like the United States, Iran, Brazil, Britain and a few others. Someone flicks the switch, and whichever ball pops up, that country gets to pick how to resolve that fight. It may be an ally of one side or another, or one with no dog in the fight. But of course they only get to pick either the Israeli plan or the Palestinian plan, each of which has been given “not crazy” approval by the General Assembly. So at the end of the day, yes we’ll have some people who are mad they didn’t win, but they won’t be completely crushed as a result.

My coworker is concerned that the six month period gives certain parties in armed conflicts a nearly six-month window in which to militarily end things in potentially devastating fashion. My solution here is to say that once six month clock starts, any attempt to do that triggers massive sanctions against the offenders, and other potential measures as decided by a two-thirds majority of the Security Council. Same goes for “losers” who do not abide by the results of the peace conference.

Would this ever work in reality? Probably not. Okay, no. But maybe it would at least get everyone to sit down for a few minutes and decide what we all really want, while also considering what would be fair enough to the other side in order to get approval. Wouldn’t that be a good start?

Now let’s go back to watching llama escape videos.

February 27, 2015 Uncategorized
Yikkety Yak

Sometimes it’s nice to know you can still connect with today’s youth. It keeps you feeling young as the days since high school add up, boats against the current.

If you want an insight into what kids are thinking, check out the app Yik Yak, which allows people in a certain area to post and view anonymous comments. People can upvote or downvote them, giving you a greater sense of what is popular with the largely teen/college crowd. A few weeks ago my friend asked me about it, which led to a download, scrolling through posts, and deciding I wanted to craft a message that would get 10 upvotes.

Things started slowly. I was a bit humbled by the fact that this wasn’t wildly successful:

I mean, Taco Bell AND emojis?! What more do you kids want? I regrouped and went after a different strategy:

Better…better…

Then I thought about the times I’ve seen someone tweet something like, “If this gets 100 likes I’ll run on the field” at whatever game they’re attending. I took that, combined it with food, and posted this beauty:

Success!!! Though in the comments people called me a jerk. Pretend me is okay with that. It actually took many hours for this one to get past 10 upvotes, so I kept posting in the mean time with a real focus on hitting the college market.

That drama-soaked piece also took a while to get much support at all. Then I got really inspired. I thought about everything people want and need and tapped into the very desire of their soul:

The comment on that one? “Ew who would even eat that pizza?” I’ll tell you who, Mr. or Ms. Anonymous, some fictional rando girl who liked my swag! Oh, and 32 other Yik Yak users!

With that momentum, I continued spitting virtual pretend fire with a focus on nearby George Washington University users:

I mean, forget college, that isn’t the world any of us signed up for. Give these kids puppies and ice cream and watch their GPAs shoot up. Or down. However that would go. Whatever just make them happy.

Already wildly successful with my mission, I went back to the virtual keyboard with one last bit of inspiration:

Chipotle, if you’re reading, let’s make 24-hour locations a thing. The people want it.

February 21, 2015 internet Uncategorized
Golden Read

If you’ve never used Twitter to yell at your friend about a book you’re both reading, you haven’t truly lived.

You may remember last fall I read Pierce Brown’s Red Rising. In early January, the second book in that series, Golden Son, was released into the wild for my friend Brooke and I to read. [AND FOR YOU THESE BOOKS ARE AWESOME GO READ THEM.]

Even a week before the release date, she resumed taking shots at Eo, the [minor spoiler redacted] wife of protagonist Darrow:

@txtingmrdarcy Eo is the jewel of all creation. YOU WILL SHOW SOME RESPECT.
— Chris Hannas (@cjhannas) December 30, 2014

Eo remains an inspiration to Darrow in Golden Son, guiding him on his quest to “break the chains” of a society that subjugates everyone in a system of colors with their Reds on the bottom and Golds on top. Darrow is trying to infiltrate the Golds and burn the house down from within, beginning with competing at an academy for elite young leaders under the flag of his benefactor.

“He’d have me win for him, but I’d win for the Red girl with a dream bigger than she ever could be,” Darrow says. “I’d win so that he dies, and her message burns across the ages.”

EO. At one point Darrow goes into the underbelly of a city to meet with someone and sees Eo celebrated by the lower classes in graffiti.

“How cruel a life, that the sight of my dead wife means hope,” he says.

This scene set off a 12-tweet burst about Eo vs. Mustang, the other main female in Darrow’s life and one that Brooke much prefers.

@cjhannas what takes more courage- dying with nothing to lose or tearing down the system from the top?
— Brooke Shelby (@txtingmrdarcy) January 18, 2015

It didn’t help when Darrow’s mother weighed in:

“‘I never liked Eo,’ she says quietly.
I twist my head up to look at her.
‘Not for you. She could be manipulative…'”

Whatever, mom. EO FOREVER.

After we furiously talked about the INSANE way the book ends, the author saw our exchange and responded with what I’m considering a virtual mic drop:

@txtingmrdarcy @cjhannas Hic Sunt Leones, bitches.
— Pierce Brown (@Pierce_Brown) February 5, 2015

And now we have to wait more than a year to read how it all ends. Plenty of time for you to catch up and join the conversation. Next year you can taunt me on Valentine’s Day too!

@cjhannas Mustang is Gold, and Darrow’s a Red/ Eo can’t be your Valentine/Because she is—
— Brooke Shelby (@txtingmrdarcy) February 14, 2015

February 15, 2015 books Uncategorized
31 For 31

Well, here we are. This is both post 31 in 31 days and the 701st in the history of the blog. Both numbers are a bit crazy.

I think this month went a lot better than the last time I tried to blog every day. That was in June 2010, when I ended with this:

“Hopefully someone enjoyed me posting that much, though I apologize for the days I clearly had nothing to write about (and wanted dearly to skip).”

This time around I really enjoyed the challenge of trying to do different things, mix in different visual elements and take on the excellent requests some of you threw my way. There were admittedly a few days I got home from working all night with no real idea what to write about and every desire to just go to sleep. But after scrolling through all of them again, I think there are only about two that I wouldn’t have otherwise posted if I didn’t weren”t doing this streak.

I remain grateful that anyone takes the time to read and always greatly appreciate your positive feedback (you can yell at me too if you want).

I’m sure I’ll try this again some time in the future, but please punch me if I don’t do it the smart way and pick a shorter month. Also please forgive the lack of posting that’s about to happen for at least a week. My fingers need a vacation.

Oh, and in case you doubted whether I would follow through on my January 17 Bachelor application post…

A video posted by Chris Hannas (@cjhannas) on Jan 30, 2015 at 1:18pm PST

Enjoy the rest of your weekend.

January 31, 2015 Uncategorized
Lylye Are Out

This is by far the latest I’ve posted during the month of blogging every day. Probably a good thing it’s over tomorrow.

Today I completed my magnetic bulletin board project in the kitchen, which combined with a box of more than 400 magnetic words (and pieces like “ing” and “ly”) to present a challenge. Could I use every single one of them in a somewhat coherent way?

Let’s do this.

The finished product looks like this (full text below in case you can’t read it):

I picture a vast ocean at night, surrounding a boy like broken glass. There, as salt breezes fly, I am home.

But champagne secrets devour me, and my heart is poisoned by their almost brilliant perfume. Fools explore those moist fevers. I embrace young worry and celebrate animal laughs.

Only she could wake me and open my naked wild trust. A woman has never said all of her magic, but girls present smiles to dazzle angels. Man will ask how and look in the green eyes of his sister not for peace, but for more concrete vision.

Warm coffee, cool marble, smoke from red fire, and joy on an ape.

I show this poetry to a prisoner in corduroy. He is desiring candy at morning, good dark cake, breath of sky, soft velvet. Old fathers need that slow time circle. No son would like a ferocious feline bleeding wet cat self. Women are sad after men fish about, or drink like crap bugs.

With her though, my voice is delicious, blazing steely blue, sailing away as if on hot air with God. It always steamed from some cloud where our universe danced. She blushes when we linger in a caramel kiss, so it must be this sacred window of porcelain eternity.

Flowery dirt down here to heat. It is healing your melted soul. Remember to bring them life which can make her ghost liquid color over me.

We may have born an ice cold child who is harder than salt. I go put pie up long grass. You listen and work starless day. Two do come lie, use the dog tree, see one lip, give word, do live.

You were nothing, then they let belly hole throb. The sex art was for him, yet not.

Yes deer, the cup did it. Lylye are out.
___________________________________________________

Okay, I cheated a little with spelling and may have made up whatever or whoever Lylye is, but not too bad, right?

January 30, 2015 Uncategorized
Juuuuuust In Case

What’s something you do that you recognize is completely stupid and pointless, and yet you continue to do it?

I was reminded of one when I stopped at the grocery store on my way home from work this morning. I pulled my car up to the curb where I had parked my cart full of food, and before I got out I rolled my driver’s side window down about four inches.

This picture is from a parking space after I got home, but I assure you the general idea is the same:

I put all the groceries in my trunk, hopped back in the driver’s seat and rolled up the window.

Take a minute and bask in your confusion. Breathe in, remain questioning my sanity, and breathe out. Okay. I assure you there’s a perfectly good explanation. It involves this fine piece of machinery:

That is my first car. It was pretty good to me, but had one problematic feature. After putting the car into gear, the doors would automatically lock, which was supposed to happen. But unfortunately they would also lock on their own if I left it idling in park for a while.

That was not an issue when I was sitting inside. But imagine the horror as I scraped ice off the windshield and heard what I can best describe as an engine hiccup, where the rpms would dip a bit, then surge for a second. Next, the “click” of the doors locking themselves.

Fortunately this only ever happened at home, and I could run in and grab a spare key. But it was common enough that when I picked up groceries I got in the habit of rolling down a window far enough that I could reach and arm inside if necessary.

My new(er) car has never had anything like that happen, and yet, more than 10 years later I still go through this routine every single time I’m at the grocery store. And I probably always will.

January 29, 2015 car Uncategorized
Here’s Looking At You, Gary

Gary descended into the L’Enfant Plaza Metro station just after 7:00 a.m., escaping the cloudless, gradiant-sunrise sky that let any semblance of warmth escape into the atmosphere above. He rubbed his mitten-less hands together as a series of escalators carried him down to the platform at the bottom of the cavern carved out beneath Washington, D.C.

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January 28, 2015 Short story
MySpace, You’re Our Only Hope

Last night, the fabric of our very society shredded, bringing everything we have come to know to a screeching halt.

And by that I mean Facebook and Instagram were down for about an hour. That hour also happened to be one during which much of the East Coast was asleep.

How did we cope with such a thing? Well we still had Twitter, and for the first time in forever, I had MySpace.

Much like when I logged into AIM last year, this experience was a tremendous walk down memory lane. My profile picture? This beauty, from a foot scanner machine at the shoe store where I worked back in the 2005-07 MySpace glory days:

I knew the site underwent all kinds of changes, including new ownership, but I wasn’t sure what to expect. For example, the profile picture is there, as is my “Top 8,” but gone are any posts made to what I’ll call my wall because I don’t remember the term here and so too are any messages sent between me and my friends.

Oh and the MySpace blog section is no more. Good thing I moved mine over here many years ago.

With the posts gone, there was really only one thing to do: pick up where I left off.

I looked through the list of my 65 “connections” and was amazed at some of the profile pictures. Some of you looked very different in 2006. I also for the life of me can’t remember the last name of one girl I knew in college. Overall, my best guess is that I’ve had contact with 42 of them in the past year or so, which actually seems pretty good to me.

OH. I just remembered that girl’s name. I’m crushing this MySpace thing.

When I poked around some more I discovered one very scandalous fact related to my family.

For those who don’t know, I have three siblings — an older and younger brother and a twin sister (which is not the scandal). The first three real people in my Top 8: younger bro, older bro, sister.

First of my sister’s Top 8: husband, older bro, me, younger bro.

Older bro has no Top 8.

Younger bro? He has only six people in his Top 8. The last two are me and our older brother. Our sister is NOT ON THE LIST.

Christmas is going to be so awkward next year.

January 27, 2015 family Uncategorized
Let Me Back Up

Immediately after opening the closet to put away my coat this morning I realized I had made a terrible oversight.

A week ago I did a post about the newest bat in my life and took the opportunity to recount tales of the other bats I’ve owned. But there, in the back of the closet, the overlooked bat stared at me with baleful eyes wanting to know why it had been left out.

I’m sorry. I really am. You, giant red whiffle bat, have always been my favorite.

I got this bat at a Salvation Army store in roughly 1996. It was in a giant bin of its brethren with an amazing price tag of 25 cents. What could be more perfect for a kid who played an insane amount of backyard baseball games with siblings and friends?

We tried out a million different balls with this bat, trying to find the right combination for our yard. Something too light like the foam tennis balls we had didn’t produce a satisfying hitting experience. Too heavy, like a real tennis ball, and we risked the combination of hitting the ball too far into the neighbor’s yard (and/or their house) as well as breaking the bat itself.

As you can see from the duct tape in the first picture, the trial-and-error process had one important casualty:

I believe this is the second generation of duct tape holding the cracked plastic together. It works just fine in this state, and can even produce some interesting effects you don’t get with a perfect round, smooth bat.

Eventually my younger brother and I discovered the perfect ball for our two-man game, which involved the batter getting to hit until the pitcher was able to catch a pop fly. The answer was a mini inflatable volleyball, which when CRUSHED traveled 10 feet past the property line and was easy enough to snag with bare hands.

I also made an oversight in my January 11 post about sledding.

Former roommate MR pointed out that I neglected to mention the awesome sledding spot neighborhood kids utilized at the now-old Redskins practice site behind our neighborhood.

This was a place we reserved for really good snows because it involved a bit of a trek to get to, which is not ideal when you get to the point of being cold and want to get inside as soon as possible.

We had to go allll the way down our street, through a big backyard, into the woods, over (and hopefully not through) a creek, scramble up a sometimes muddy hill with the aid of tree roots and finally down and up a drainage ditch to reach the sledding start.

The great thing about the ditch was its steep angle, meaning you could build the smallest of jumps and let let the angle create one that seemed much bigger. A tiny bit of speed made for some epic runs and even more incredible crash landings. Looking back it’s a bit of a wonder no one got hurt either with the simple impact or the occasional crash into the exposed top of a rock at the bottom.

And now that I’m picturing this all again I’m remembering some blizzard that brought in plows to the parking lot behind the ditch, creating those huge walls of snow you see in a storm that size. For us that meant a starting ramp 10 feet above where we were used to, and thus more speed than we could ever imagine on those sleds.

Kid snow days were so much cooler.

January 26, 2015 baseball Uncategorized