My sin.

Is gluttony. Of books.
Today, I went to the library and picked up eight items. Three are books in a new series, two are Legend of Zelda manga, one is a collection of zombie stories, and two are recent issues of Scientific American. I was half-crazy when I got everything, but I got so many things because I've been depraved of physical reading material for around a half-week or so.
That may not seem like long to you, but to me, that's almost an eternity. A horrible, horrible eternity in which the only things I have to do are doodle, mindlessly grind in video games and... rot, I suppose. There are friends here and there, but they do not console my lack of books to devour! It's like having an appetite that cannot ever be satiated.
Anyway. The point of this blog is to reintroduce blogging to myself, because I will be doing it again. Not only as another way to shave away some of my free time (which, at the moment - I am jobless - I seem to have too much of), but as a way to put my thoughts out there.
Considering the two Americans I picked up (Italics for titles! I DID NOT PICK UP AMERICAN HOOKERS I SWEAR) have some pretty sex-- interesting issues in them, expect to see a blog on consciousness and "the multiverse".
AND THIS GOD-FORSAKEN OIL SPILL. Scroll down a little on this page. See the blogs from a few months ago - one with a red rage face and another with an exploding head? Combine those and multiply them by two hundred thousand and you'll see how I feel about it!

The Sextet of Doom

I'm supposed to apply six concepts (in the reading or in the article) to our in-class experiments/activities. I suppose I'll do it... I mean, this is just such a pain! DOESN'T WOLLERSHEIM KNOW THAT I'M TERRIBLY, TERRIBLY UN-GRAMETICULLL AND THAT MY FINGERS ARE PROSTHETICS MADE OF WOOD (like George Washingtooooooooooooooon's teefs!?) GOD, YOU THINK YOU KNOW A PERSON, AND THEY JUST TURN AROUND AND ENTHUSIASTICALLY ASSIGN AN ASSIGNMENT THAT YOU CAN'T DO BECAUSE YOU'VE GOT A BABY HIPPOPOTAMUS SITTING ON EACH OF YOUR HANDS, FORCING YOU TO type the rest f this entence with my nose. Yes, I really just did it, too. I am now realizing that these hippos are phantasms (phantom hippohands syndrome?), and that I'm only imagining them... and that I JUST PUT MY NOSE TO A KEYBOARD MULTIPLE TIMES, LIKE A WOODPECKER (keyboardpecker?). I'm going to go disinfect my nose, thanks... it smells like something's burning.
Okay, phew. Now that I'm back and okay with this silly, exacerbating, fantabulous assignment, let me begin by saying two things: One, I like applesauce; Two, I like the color purple; and $, I REALLY like applesauce.

For one of the thingies, we had to balance 10 nails on the head of only one. There were multiple ways to go about it (leaning them against the one, or, as Katie did, putting your nails on your cranium), but Wollersheim was totally intending only one way. Joonho totally took the cake and ate it, right in front of us. He managed to get, like, twenty-six on one nail! That's nuts!
Anyway. None of us knew what we were doing, really (I was really fuzzy today, and Katie and a few others were obsessed over figuring out that icky logic problem). So we just kind of farked around, the magical Wollersaurus Rex gave us a clue with her magical clue-y powers. That's when Joonho was like, "... oh." And he totally nailed it. Anywhere, this proved that my intuition was pretty not-right - my immediate idea wasn't feasible, at least, it wasn't the desired solution. Jared was seemingly overconfident all the time (it was sort of funny, in a grating sort of way). None of us had the correct mental sets, as none of us had done it previously.

We had to make an oldschool record play using some random materials - a pencil, a needle, tape, a piece o' paper, a rubber band, a band-aid, and a tootsie roll - which is a little less awesome than it sounds. It took us a while - we were mostly fixated (meaning "unable to see the problem in a new way") and unable to actually progress. Jared was fixated on wanting the cherry-flavored tootsie roll... that people in our group had touched not inappropriately, but not necessarily appropriately (!).
It took us a bit, but we got it. It was mostly a bout of insight (nudged by an extremely vague question that THE WOLLERSHEIM posed). We totally PWN'D everyone in that you could hear the person's voice and make out the words (Satan-style or chipmunk-style, to be exact), because the needle was sort of skimming the surface of the record, rather than trying to stab it in the face.
Also, SOMEONE (I won't name names... but The Amazing Dubulator totally knows who it was!) told ... Wollershizzle that she should know how they work and what they look like, because she grew up with them, didn't she? I just kind of... stared at the person who said it, unable to fathom that they thought that either she's older (C'mon! She looks young and sometimes like she could totally be a college student!)/that records were around in the late eighties.
Her response was three halves hilarious. I couldn't tell if she thought it was more funny or insulting, though.

Cognition was obviously used for all of these. We thought. Therefore, we were?

P.S. Blogger's examples for tags never change. I want to tag this as "scooters" (because, didn't you know, we rode little scooters around the room while we did this?), but I won't, because nonsense tags go into my sociology blog...
... BUT I'LL TAKE A COOKIE JUST THIS ONCE.