After basically nine months of unemployment, I start a new job on Wednesday with a nonprofit, open-access scientific publishing company. My job as a "publishing assistant" will be to coordinate between different experts to get scientific papers ready for
publishing on our online journals.
The company works on a different business model than traditional
scientific publishers. Instead of recouping the costs of
publishing by selling journals to universities, we charge a flat fee that the researcher pays for us to publish their work and make it available
to absolutely everyone. For reasons that are explained here, this is a very exciting development in scientific publishing and I'm proud to be working for a successful company that is leading the open-access charge.
I'm also stoked to be making a paycheck and have insurance coverage
again, as well as to be doing something constructive in terms of a
career. This is an industry that I can see myself prospering in for a
long time, because while it makes use of my scientific background, I will not be doing any tedious, intricate bench research that I've found I am particularly unsuited to.
I've bought new shoes and pants so that I'll look presentable for work. Now I've just got to make a list of all the health problems
I've been holding off on fixing since I last had insurance, two years ago.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Blackout for SOPA and PIPA
Well, I can't figure out how to blackout this blog, but I will have you know that I stand in solidarity with Wikipedia, Google, Facebook, Reddit, Yahoo, Twitter, Ebay, AOL, LinkedIn, Mozilla, a whole host of other websites and a legion of regular citizens against SOPA and PIPA. If you don't know, these are bills in Congress that go up for a vote in the coming days. They are nothing less than an all-out assault against a free and open Internet. I encourage all of you to contact your representatives today about this bill. Wikipedia will help you.
Here is what Wikipedia looked like at the time this post was published.
For a thorough but readable analysis of these two bills, see Reddit's blog.
It wasn't until I tried to contact my Representative that I discovered who my Representative is. Can you guess? It's fucking Nancy Pelosi!UPDATE: SOPA was shelved after the overwhelming response elicited by the blackout protest. PIPA is undergoing revision. A new version of anti-piracy legislation is expected to return to the floor sometime in February. As Wikipedia states in its banner, "we're not done yet".
Here is what Wikipedia looked like at the time this post was published.
For a thorough but readable analysis of these two bills, see Reddit's blog.
It wasn't until I tried to contact my Representative that I discovered who my Representative is. Can you guess? It's fucking Nancy Pelosi!UPDATE: SOPA was shelved after the overwhelming response elicited by the blackout protest. PIPA is undergoing revision. A new version of anti-piracy legislation is expected to return to the floor sometime in February. As Wikipedia states in its banner, "we're not done yet".
Monday, January 2, 2012
Maturity
It started maybe a year ago, after I'd just finished my first real relationship and gotten my first real job. People started commenting about how I much had matured. They talked about how I let stupid arguments go unargued or how my writing on this blog had become more sophisticated.
I am twenty-four years old. People rely on me. I do genuinely "uncle" things like teach my niece and nephews how to build a fire, paddle a canoe and drive a vehicle. When I went to Louisiana for the summer I picked up social obligations without comment or awkwardness. I care about how much money I make. I complain about aches and pains. I'm not afraid to touch any bodily fluid. I enjoy talking about relationship issues with my friends, including the increasingly prominent topic of marriage. I drink freely at family events without embarrassment. These, I've found, are hallmarks of maturity.
The realization that I am becoming mature contains, of course, an element of terror. Embarrassing health problems, declining energy levels, the nine-to-five workday and the alarming acceleration of time's passage all weigh heavily on my soul, not to mention the loss of the peculiar brand of frenetic magic I brandished in this blog's earliest prose. The person I was in high school, the radical, has given way to the moderate and that sense of ceaseless, inspired warfare has gone with it. Or rather, it sputters rather than roars. My cutting word and desire to change the world has not diminished, but it is wielded casually now, without pretense or fervor. These are sad things on their own, but make no mistake: I am proud of the person I've become and I am happy to have become it. It took time and concerted effort to arrive where I am now and that arrival is not without its rewards.
The most important rewards, of course, are trust and respect. I've realized that prestige in adulthood is far more dependent upon being a person of character than I'd imagined in childhood. For someone without particularly stellar career prospects, this is very good news.
More intangibly than trust and respect is an increasingly persistent sense of grace. There is an ease that comes from knowing the world and what I'm capable of. I still haven't found my occupational place in the world, but I have found my personal place. I am a good friend, an affectionate lover, a critic, a thinker and a dilettante.
I know that there are much more interesting and intelligent people in this world, but I am comfortable that my talents are worthy enough to merit raising my voice. I am not satisfied by boring people or interesting people holding themselves to low standards. I am an asshole, particularly in that regard. I try not to be a hypocrite.
I will have children. They will consume much of my life and drive me crazy. They will also be awesome. I will get old and feeble and, if possible, more curmudgeony. People will silently laugh at me for things I am not aware of and audibly laugh at me for things I cannot control. I will not grow taller. I will continue to grow more hairy.
I am at peace with all of these things. That may be the most telling part of all of this. What happened to going down kicking and screaming? When did I become so irritatingly pragmatic? Clearly, I am getting old.
I am twenty-four years old. People rely on me. I do genuinely "uncle" things like teach my niece and nephews how to build a fire, paddle a canoe and drive a vehicle. When I went to Louisiana for the summer I picked up social obligations without comment or awkwardness. I care about how much money I make. I complain about aches and pains. I'm not afraid to touch any bodily fluid. I enjoy talking about relationship issues with my friends, including the increasingly prominent topic of marriage. I drink freely at family events without embarrassment. These, I've found, are hallmarks of maturity.
The realization that I am becoming mature contains, of course, an element of terror. Embarrassing health problems, declining energy levels, the nine-to-five workday and the alarming acceleration of time's passage all weigh heavily on my soul, not to mention the loss of the peculiar brand of frenetic magic I brandished in this blog's earliest prose. The person I was in high school, the radical, has given way to the moderate and that sense of ceaseless, inspired warfare has gone with it. Or rather, it sputters rather than roars. My cutting word and desire to change the world has not diminished, but it is wielded casually now, without pretense or fervor. These are sad things on their own, but make no mistake: I am proud of the person I've become and I am happy to have become it. It took time and concerted effort to arrive where I am now and that arrival is not without its rewards.
The most important rewards, of course, are trust and respect. I've realized that prestige in adulthood is far more dependent upon being a person of character than I'd imagined in childhood. For someone without particularly stellar career prospects, this is very good news.
More intangibly than trust and respect is an increasingly persistent sense of grace. There is an ease that comes from knowing the world and what I'm capable of. I still haven't found my occupational place in the world, but I have found my personal place. I am a good friend, an affectionate lover, a critic, a thinker and a dilettante.
I know that there are much more interesting and intelligent people in this world, but I am comfortable that my talents are worthy enough to merit raising my voice. I am not satisfied by boring people or interesting people holding themselves to low standards. I am an asshole, particularly in that regard. I try not to be a hypocrite.
I will have children. They will consume much of my life and drive me crazy. They will also be awesome. I will get old and feeble and, if possible, more curmudgeony. People will silently laugh at me for things I am not aware of and audibly laugh at me for things I cannot control. I will not grow taller. I will continue to grow more hairy.
I am at peace with all of these things. That may be the most telling part of all of this. What happened to going down kicking and screaming? When did I become so irritatingly pragmatic? Clearly, I am getting old.
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