We can learn social skills

I gave the annual lecture on virtual worlds in E-Learning for my Master's seminar this morning. As usual, I have to download new versions of browsers and such, check that my Second Life avatar looks presentable and position her in a useful location, see if I can still find the things I want to show, and then see if I can scare up some living being for a chat.

I did manage to find a vampire last night that let me know that he was from Oregon and that he was here to find new friends. He asked how the weather was where I am, I said that we had snow. He replied that snow was not his thing, and he needed to go get some blood. Whatever.

This morning we got lucky as well, there was an entire group in one of the welcome areas I like to visit because it is not full of advertising. There were a bunch of guys doing their morning exercises, they didn't answer me. But a girl in a bridal dress did answer me and tell me she was from Turkey. It was a bit odd, as she stood with her back to my avatar, and she didn't really understand any of the other questions I asked. Whatever.

I found a film in the Internet archives about the Onlive Traveller virtual world, a very early one that is no longer alive. I had only played the first few minutes of it and decided to show it in class today. I forwarded it a bit past the text stuff, and let it play. I immediately had to giggle. There was this very, very "edgy" rabbit talking with another creature, perhaps a unicorn. They were talking about why this was such a cool thing.

I usually have myself under control when teaching, but this just cracked me up. The rabbit was going on and on about why learning in virtual worlds is great. About 6:30 the rabbit says "We're here to see our friends... the training here in social skills alone is a valuable tool", and I lost it. I started laughing so hard, I had to turn to the wall to try and compose myself. It continues "... we swap recipes ... some people got married here ...." and I stopped  the video. This rabbit - eyes blinking, mouth moving - was just too funny.

At the end of the session the students were all of my opinion - why on earth would anyone want to use an environment like this for teaching and learning? As one student noted, at least in World of Warcraft the graphics are better.

The Forty Rules of Love

A good friend from Jordan gave me this book when she was visiting earlier this year. This strange tale by Elif Shafak, "The Forty Rules of Love" , weaves two stories together. One, taking place in the 1200s, is about a Persian poet, Rumi and his encounter with a whirling dervish, Shams. Shams is a Sufi and he spends much time with Rumi, discussing the Forty Rules of Love with him.

The second story is about Ella and Aziz in 2009, with Ella (a Jewish-American housewife) struggling in an unhappy marriage. She is getting back to work as a literary reviewer and is given Aziz' book to review. The book touches her deeply, and she contacts Aziz, a Scotsman who has himself become a Sufi.

It was an interesting introduction to a very foreign, Muslim world for me, and a quick read. I was not able to relate to many of the "Rules of Love" set out, but the fortieth one does indeed resound, so I will quote it here:

A life without love is of no account. Don't ask yourself what kind of love you should seek, spiritual or material, divine or mundane, Eastern or Western ... Divisions only lead to more divisions. Love has no labels, no definitions. It is what it is, pure and simple. Love is the water of life. And a lover is a soul of fire! The universe turns differently when fire loves water."

Mission Impossible 4

WiseYoungMan wanted to see Mission Impossible 4 (called Ghost Protocol in the US), so we managed to find a theater showing it at a time that the ancient parent and godparents found convienient. The film is a little over 2 1/4 hours, so with all the commercials and the break you are looking at a solid 3 hours.

I was not expecting to really enjoy it, I'm not much for the car-chase and senseless violence genre of films. But oh, my, the toys they had! It was fun seeing all the cool stuff a secret agent can do with an iPad and some intelligent textiles! There were some bits that were waaaay too far-out (the cutting of the window high up on the tower and then climbing up on the outside), but by far I found most of the stuff believable.

And isn't Tom Cruise good looking? What a shame he's on that Scientology trip.

Happy Birthday, WiseKid!

Where did the time go? It seems just a few years ago my little package of energy was (literally) bouncing off the walls. He turns 20 today, and has to work on his birthday. That's grown-up life, kid! But I guess I have to stop calling him a kid, he's as old (if not older) than some of my students.

So all the best as you start into your Twenties, WiseYoungMan!

Back to being "just" professor

Last Monday I stepped down as dean. The details are messy, and I will only communicate them to people orally. Let's just say that the top administration at this school finds it more important to follow perceived protocols than to keep the place running. I was treated in such a disrespectful manner about a supposed fault on my part (I am, and have since been independently determined to be, innocent) that I could not continue as dean.

So I've moved my stuff back up to my office. Sorted my toys. Pitched a lot of stuff on top of already teetering piles. Dusted a few year's worth of dust off the surfaces. Hooked up my laptop and started to work.

Do real work. I spent the afternoon researching for the lecture I'm giving next week. Not the one for tomorrow, next week. I could afford to experiment with something, throw something out, get down into the topic, get a good feel for now understanding it.

This feels very, very good.

A Colorful Hotel

I decided to stay in a hotel at Newark instead of driving 2 hours on with my family and then after breakfast driving back to Newark (add an hour for rush hour). I chose a hotel a bit further away from the airport (Fairfield Inn) than the expensive in-airport hotels. But they have a bus shuttle to the airport, breakfast is included, and they have free Internet.

Sure, I wasn't served at breakfast - had to get my own coffee in a styrofoam cup (and it wasn't bad, for American coffee), had my oatmeal in a plastic bowl with a plastic spoon, and the place was crowded, but breakfast was actually better than that fancy place in Mars. And they even have a swimming pool, although I decided I was too lazy to use it.

The most noticeable thing about the hotel is that there are people of color here - many people of many different colors and nationalities. Not just the people working here, the people staying here.  It is a truly diverse crowd, and not just all foreigners. Most speak American, they just didn't want to spend twice the money on a room in New York or at the airport.

As a middle-class girl I am used to the segregated society that still exists in the USA. The church we attended on Christmas Eve was 99% white. The neighbors are 99% white. The shoppers at Trader Joe's were 99% white. The clerks and the cashiers tend to be a bit more diverse, and of course, and the cook at the Japanese place (more about that in the next blog entry) was Japanese.

I really like not being in the majority - it is the way I think Things Ought To Be.

You have mail!

We were to be heading back home after breakfast this morning, when the telephone rang. It was the Butler post office calling - Daddy had arrived and was on the delivery truck! But we couldn't get it, as it was addressed to the funeral home. Should be delivered by noon.

A short discussion later we delayed the return trip in order to complete the burial. We headed for Starbucks, one brother taking back breakfast for the princesses and my sister-in-law, the other riding out with me to dig a hole. We had breakfast in the car, while driving. I had a cinnamon bun about the size of 8 Swedish kanelbuller, that should be enough calories for a day or two.

There was a light snow, and these Pennsylvania curves are treacherous. My cousin remarked yesterday that they just let loose a snake in Pennsylvania and the paving machine follows right behind. And the hills - oh my, my stomach recalls exactly the rhythm of the hills leading down to the farm. We passed the old Brownsdale store, long out of business, and drove past the old farm house. We pulled into the driveway of the neighbors - they seem to be thankfully not at home.

We chose a spot up at the top of the lot with a good view both of the house he built himself and the house his mother and sister had built when they sold off the rest of the farm. Looking back one can see the woods behind the cornfields. The top of the ground was frozen, but the shovel quickly bit through that, the rest was not frozen. We took turns digging. There was just a bit of topsoil, then lots of clay and stones that were not easy to get out. While I dug, my brother looked for stones; while he dug, I made a cross out of sticks and some ribbon that was among the flotsam on the floor of the car.

We got a nice deep hole dug and headed back to the hotel. The princesses were enjoying the swimming pool, we had them get out and get packed. We packed up the car and headed back to Butler. We know the way by now without the GPS system. At the funeral home they had us sit down and wait, while they looked. Yes, the mail had come. Yes, there was a box for us there. The postal worker had forgotten to ring the bell, the registered mail thingy was still attached to the box, unsigned. The box was postmarked December 21, the cremation was December 13. Where did he spend that week? How on earth an registered mail that was supposed to be sent overnight took more than a week to get from Florida to Pennsylvania remains a mystery.

We signed the forms, declined to buy an urn, and headed back to the lot. I rode with the box on my lap, a very strange feeling. This, then, is all that remains of a person: about 2 kilograms of ashes, in a box. As we came down towards the village I had my brother take a short drive up and down Main Street, a sort of farewell to the church, the school, and the train tracks. Then we made it up the hill and parked.

I had prepared a short ceremony that we followed, lowering the box into the hole, pouring a bottle of good red wine in on top, and then everyone taking a turn at putting the dirt back into the hole. We tamped it down, lay the cross and the stone down so we can find it to plant a dogwood tree there in the spring, and we found that it was now good. The spot was just perfect for him, and we all felt a sense of relief, a feeling of closure, that we had completed the mission.

Rest in peace, Daddy!