So here is the deal. I cannot claim top be the bane of many things. I have not brought about the downfall of countries and dictatorships. Media moguls do not fear me. They should, mind you, there are a consistent 10 people who read this blog. Can you say infinitesimally small market share, I sure as Hell know that I can. I can claim to be the bane of one person though. I was a thorn in his side from the get go.
Lets see… a long time ago in a galaxy that was not too far away (well, done the street, but it really is a different world). Some called this particular universe Ohio State University, but those people were horribly incorrect. The true name of this particular universe was THE Ohio State University. I forgot the “The” once and had my head bit clean off. I was a grad student in the Geography Department of the auspicious OSU studying cartography. When I applied for a grad degree at OSU’s Geography department, they were the #5 program in the US, when I left #8. Boo Ya!!!! Take that baby! This poor department thought I would be beneficial for them, but they were wrong. See, I had an article published when I was an undergrad dealing with the Emergency Broadcast System and tornadoes in Ohio. It was all well and good, but I haven’t published a damn thing since… ergo the #5 to #8 phenomena.
Anyway… There was one cartography professor in the department and, naturally, I became his advisee. The particular brand of cartography that this man expressed was “Analytical Cartography.” For those of you who do not know, Analytical Cartography is the analysis of the ideas of cartography. It is not about making maps, it is about determining at what distance 72 point font looks like an 8 point font. It is not about determining what color works best for the mood of the map you are trying to create, but to take a statistical sampling of pure color primitives and determine the most easily readable sets of color forms. For those interested, white text on a royal blue field is the easiest to read, while, surprisingly charcoal grey text on a light green with a hint of yellow field is the easiest text on the eyes for extended periods of reading.
Okay, back to the point at hand… I will call him Mo… (so this will not Google to him, plus you know his name from yesterday’s post) was my advisor (can you see the tension starting to build) and his baby was the Spatial Database Transfer Standards. This was an issue that he had sunk at least 10 years of his life into. The basic principal behind the SDTS is to come up with a, well, standardized set of definitions for basic spatial objects and entities. The whole idea was for his research to establish a comprehensive and static lexicon of spatial object definitions. Unfortunately, after sinking 10 years of his life into this research, some snot nosed kid, right out of college came into his classroom and had the audacity to question his comprehensive list of topological data primitives. I was that snot nosed kid. I found a hole in his 10 years worth of effort. He, now, really did not like me very much. It so happened that I was not only his advisee, but I was the TA for one of his classes as well as attending an upper level course of his. This complicated matters and exasperated them greatly as well.
About 2 weeks after I questioned his SDTS thoroughness, the class I was TA-ing for him had their mid-term. Whilst administering the instructions of how he wanted the students to take the test, he noticed that I was standing in front of the capital letter “N” that he had written on the board that started the phrase “Number of minutes left” that he had written on the board. This wild eyed Rasputin looking professor that seems to be stuck in the 1800’s (He addresses everyone as Mr. This and Ms. That etc…, felt that the students should not ask questions about subject matter, and should just soak up the information imparted to them by the expert in the room, and I think he would have loved to smack people on the knuckles with a ruler if they bothered him) stares at me with this blank look and shoves me back and away from the board.
This fucker just shoved me! I am not a huge person, by any means, but I am also not small. At that time I was easily still at least 215 lbs and around 6’2”, and this man pushed me hard enough to make me take about 2 steps backward. It was a bad enough push that after the mid-term 4 students in the classroom separately made comments about the “incident.”
The thing that really chaps my hide about this incident is that he moved me like I was merely a piece of furniture. He did not regard me as a person, he regarded me as an object (in STDS I would be considered a Volumetric Solid). I know that this is not the first time he had treated people as physical objects that merely obstructed things, and I also knew this would not be the last.
This was at the mid-term. This is a person, whom I now could not stand. I had to meet with him twice a week as his advisee, twice a week as his TA, I had to go to the class where I was his TA, and the class I was taking from him. It was not a good term for me. Finally, after I had taken my final in the class, I went to the Department Head and complained, switched advisors and changed direction in my studies a year in to grad school. Mo… went on a forced vacation until I was done with grad school, and since I had grounds for a grievance, I feel like my graduate degree was conferred upon me to get me out of the system as fast as possible.
I feel this way since there were no comments or edits necessary after turning in my Thesis for review. My review lasted all of 30 minutes. I still have a bitter taste in my mouth about it, but I have my MA in Geography now… yipeee!
Anyway… after the “Mo… incident of 1998,” his activity in the department started to decline. I know that I am responsible for the beginnings of his downfall. I can safely say that I am his bane.
To recap:
Little Man has an ear infection
That explains a whole heckuva lot of his behaviors this past week
I am Mo..’s Bane, but oddly he is not my nemesis
The yeti is my nemesis
Don’t ask, it ain’t pretty
4 days till my blogaversary, 5 days till my blogaversary observed
I still expect presents
Are the British afraid of commenting?
I think so
I am a bit of a legend in the OSU Geography Department now
I hear he hurled me through a closed door
I do not think there a folk song about me.... yet
Lets see… a long time ago in a galaxy that was not too far away (well, done the street, but it really is a different world). Some called this particular universe Ohio State University, but those people were horribly incorrect. The true name of this particular universe was THE Ohio State University. I forgot the “The” once and had my head bit clean off. I was a grad student in the Geography Department of the auspicious OSU studying cartography. When I applied for a grad degree at OSU’s Geography department, they were the #5 program in the US, when I left #8. Boo Ya!!!! Take that baby! This poor department thought I would be beneficial for them, but they were wrong. See, I had an article published when I was an undergrad dealing with the Emergency Broadcast System and tornadoes in Ohio. It was all well and good, but I haven’t published a damn thing since… ergo the #5 to #8 phenomena.
Anyway… There was one cartography professor in the department and, naturally, I became his advisee. The particular brand of cartography that this man expressed was “Analytical Cartography.” For those of you who do not know, Analytical Cartography is the analysis of the ideas of cartography. It is not about making maps, it is about determining at what distance 72 point font looks like an 8 point font. It is not about determining what color works best for the mood of the map you are trying to create, but to take a statistical sampling of pure color primitives and determine the most easily readable sets of color forms. For those interested, white text on a royal blue field is the easiest to read, while, surprisingly charcoal grey text on a light green with a hint of yellow field is the easiest text on the eyes for extended periods of reading.
Okay, back to the point at hand… I will call him Mo… (so this will not Google to him, plus you know his name from yesterday’s post) was my advisor (can you see the tension starting to build) and his baby was the Spatial Database Transfer Standards. This was an issue that he had sunk at least 10 years of his life into. The basic principal behind the SDTS is to come up with a, well, standardized set of definitions for basic spatial objects and entities. The whole idea was for his research to establish a comprehensive and static lexicon of spatial object definitions. Unfortunately, after sinking 10 years of his life into this research, some snot nosed kid, right out of college came into his classroom and had the audacity to question his comprehensive list of topological data primitives. I was that snot nosed kid. I found a hole in his 10 years worth of effort. He, now, really did not like me very much. It so happened that I was not only his advisee, but I was the TA for one of his classes as well as attending an upper level course of his. This complicated matters and exasperated them greatly as well.
About 2 weeks after I questioned his SDTS thoroughness, the class I was TA-ing for him had their mid-term. Whilst administering the instructions of how he wanted the students to take the test, he noticed that I was standing in front of the capital letter “N” that he had written on the board that started the phrase “Number of minutes left” that he had written on the board. This wild eyed Rasputin looking professor that seems to be stuck in the 1800’s (He addresses everyone as Mr. This and Ms. That etc…, felt that the students should not ask questions about subject matter, and should just soak up the information imparted to them by the expert in the room, and I think he would have loved to smack people on the knuckles with a ruler if they bothered him) stares at me with this blank look and shoves me back and away from the board.
This fucker just shoved me! I am not a huge person, by any means, but I am also not small. At that time I was easily still at least 215 lbs and around 6’2”, and this man pushed me hard enough to make me take about 2 steps backward. It was a bad enough push that after the mid-term 4 students in the classroom separately made comments about the “incident.”
The thing that really chaps my hide about this incident is that he moved me like I was merely a piece of furniture. He did not regard me as a person, he regarded me as an object (in STDS I would be considered a Volumetric Solid). I know that this is not the first time he had treated people as physical objects that merely obstructed things, and I also knew this would not be the last.
This was at the mid-term. This is a person, whom I now could not stand. I had to meet with him twice a week as his advisee, twice a week as his TA, I had to go to the class where I was his TA, and the class I was taking from him. It was not a good term for me. Finally, after I had taken my final in the class, I went to the Department Head and complained, switched advisors and changed direction in my studies a year in to grad school. Mo… went on a forced vacation until I was done with grad school, and since I had grounds for a grievance, I feel like my graduate degree was conferred upon me to get me out of the system as fast as possible.
I feel this way since there were no comments or edits necessary after turning in my Thesis for review. My review lasted all of 30 minutes. I still have a bitter taste in my mouth about it, but I have my MA in Geography now… yipeee!
Anyway… after the “Mo… incident of 1998,” his activity in the department started to decline. I know that I am responsible for the beginnings of his downfall. I can safely say that I am his bane.
To recap:
Little Man has an ear infection
That explains a whole heckuva lot of his behaviors this past week
I am Mo..’s Bane, but oddly he is not my nemesis
The yeti is my nemesis
Don’t ask, it ain’t pretty
4 days till my blogaversary, 5 days till my blogaversary observed
I still expect presents
Are the British afraid of commenting?
I think so
I am a bit of a legend in the OSU Geography Department now
I hear he hurled me through a closed door
I do not think there a folk song about me.... yet