"Floracide" now available in PDF

In case you missed it or do not like physical copies, Issue #60: "Floracide" of Leading Edge, in which my long story "Floracide" was published last December, is now available for purchase at reduced price as a PDF.

Upcoming WTF?! Anthology and Novella

This is a rather perfunctory post since I obviously don't update my blog very often - I am hoping to get my own website maybe soon - but here goes:

My short story "A Divine Three Seconds" was accepted some time ago and will be appearing in the upcoming WTF?! Anthology from Pink Narcissus Press in early December. The anthology will be available in print and as an e-book and is currently available for pre-order from the publisher's website. Alternatively, if you are in Ottawa or know me and are interested in ordering a copy, I can probably sell one to you directly at a slightly reduced price.

In other news, my novella The White Pigeon was recently selected as the winner of my university's 48-hour novella-writing contest. (Definitions of "novella" are always a bit variable, but usually it's defined as at least about 15,000 words -- twice as long as what we were required to write. Thus it's really more of a "novelette," if you approve of that term.) The story is soon to be published in print with its own ISBN! Some copies are to be held at Cafe Alt and the English Dept. at the University of Ottawa, as well as at the Collected Works Bookstore on Wellington.

Social Experiment #3: Rock Talks. Dust Answers.

Last week, after posting about the ‘Bad Ideas’ Contest at Ottawa U, I paid a visit to “Rock Talk”—the blog of Allan Rock, the President of the University—and searched for a post about the Contest so I could post something in response: namely, the hyperlink to my recent thoughts on the subject.

Rock’s only post pertaining to the Contest was from February, back when it was first announced. I would’ve preferred a recent post, for visibility’s sake, but decided it would be unproductive to post my comment in response to some other post of a different topic simply for the sake of that post’s recentness. Such a comment would not be as well understood and would seem like angry spam—and likely be treated as such by the blog’s moderator (i.e., Rock or one of his subordinate pebbles).

But—my mistake—I probably made my comment look like spam anyway, in being so laconic: all it consisted of was the direct URL to my post. To my credit, though, I filled in, along with the comment box, the “Name (required)” and “Email address (will not be published)” fields with my full name and university email address. I clearly identified myself, in short, as one of the students whose "comments and suggestions" Rock "welcomes."

Alas, as you can guess, like a bad kidney stone the comment could not pass through the Allan Rock. But I fancied this was due primarily to that spam-like appearance (poor judgment on my part—born of exam-period haste). For, however menacing the content of the essay lurking behind the submitted URL, one has to wonder how many people actually read Allan Rock’s blog, let alone would read a post from two months ago (and an especially inane post at that, being simply a mirror of the announcement of the Contest, which any eligible submitter—any student—would have first heard of elsewhere)? And, of those people, how many would actually follow the URL, and how many read my essay?

I would guess none and none. So what real harm (assuming he himself even followed the link and read the essay) did Rock perceive in letting this comment through? Surely it would be better to humour this complainer than, by denial, encourage him towards more ambitious future attempts? Even I had not thought much of the comment as I posted it. It was just a comment—a shot in the dark. I just didn’t realize just how dark the dark was. It seems indicative of Rock’s extreme arrogance and paranoia that he apparently thinks so many people read his blog that such a comment, harmlessly posted to an obsolete post that no one in the world need walk by again, could be harmful to his and his university's image.

For along the right side of Rock’s blog runs, among other things, a short list of “Recent Comments.” According to this, the most recent comment, as of today, came in response to a post dating January 27th. The next most recent: December 2nd (2010). This suggests either:

(1) virtually nobody reads Rock’s blog (even though every one of all 40,000+ students and staff is probably aware of it thanks to mass emails and other more elaborate admin-backed ads);

(2) some people do read Rock’s blog but his posts are generally so inane, most of them reproductions of announcements and news better and earlier available elsewhere (and lacking the putrid sense of one person’s self-aggrandizing corporate agenda), that they do not (indeed are probably not meant to) provoke thought, let alone discussion;

or

(3) people do read the blog and some, perhaps even all posts—even the inane—do provoke comments, but the blog’s moderator exacts such a stringent censorship policy that even the slightest hint of an alternate or, Rock forbid, opposing view—the basis for any true dialogue—is rendered invisible: lest the uOttawa brand incur even the faintest discoloration.

I would guess, Scantron permitting, some degree of all of the above are true. Or have been true at some point, for each is potentially the cause or effect of another: inane posts and refusal to engage in discussion, for example, both leading to reduced readership.

But let us be optimistic! The moderator was not overly paranoid; he simply mistook it for spam. Fast forward (backward) to last Friday.

Last Friday, when Mr. Christ was being hammered to the cross for the 2011th time, I was crucifying my thesis, for the 2nd time, onto another of Rock’s wooden posts. I’d just discovered that Rock had posted—as it happens the day right after I’d hammered the thesis on my own blog and tried to pass on the link to his—one of his blog’s characteristic reproductions: an announcement of the contest winners! Here was my chance, again, to show Rock my great ideas! After all, Rock seemed, in that very post, to be asking for them (unless my reading abilities, as a fourth-year English literature student at Rock’s university, fail me):

“As you know, improving the student experience is my key objective as president of the University of Ottawa. Hearing directly from students is the best way to learn how to reach our goal of creating a stronger sense of community on campus.... Your input and ideas are invaluable.”

So input my ideas I did—into the welcoming snowy fields of the “Leave a comment” page, so empty (and hence so pregnant) with possibility!—and signed my name and university email address once again. This time I prettied things up, dressed up my comment better than Kate Middleton: I offered a brief introduction, then copied the whole content of my thesis directly into the field rather than hiding it behind a possibly questionable-looking URL, and I even framed it as a citation using the {cite} XHTML function. Surely, now, there could be no question as to the earnestness, quality of presentation, and credibility of my comment! And remember—Rock was, after all, asking me for it!

But I suppose—if I’m being a judicious reader—what Rock strategically omits from his call for my—my! (oh my, does he really mean me? Me specifically?)—“input” is that, while “Your input and ideas are invaluable,” the output of them is not. Input all you like into Rock’s bottomless heart and suggestion box! Nothing will come out of it.

(Unless, of course, your idea isn't really an idea, or it's exactly what he wants to hear.)

The long weekend I permitted as a write-off, of course—I didn’t expect Rock or his pebbles to be rolling about the blog. Then, I had exams to deal with, so more time passed. But now I’ve checked back. It’s been a week. The comment’s not there.

The next step, evidently, is to approach the campus newspapers.

"Fulghum's Synthitar" on Kasma SF

My story "Fulghum's Synthitar" got reprinted again, this time on a relatively new, Ottawa-based SF site that actually pays. There are no new edits to the story, but for those who missed it or want a good re/read, do check it out.

The "Bad Ideas" Contest at Ottawa U

Two years ago I blogged about the faults of the University of Ottawa’s “Good Ideas” Contest, and about the idea I submitted in facetious attempt to topple the whole thing. (See “Social Experiment 2: Flinging Shit into my University’s Cyberspace” and its sequel.) This year, I decided to submit again, but a serious idea. Well, not any more serious than the previous, but something that I actually thought might win.

Alas, this has not happened. I won’t bother describing the ideas that did win. Some are all right, and most won’t be implemented anyway, but suffice it to say that none of the ideas target student health issues as mine did, and what’s worse, three of the ten ideas appear to be more or less the same: “Mini Art Shows,” a “Semaine des art et des talents etudiants,” and “Student Art Showcase.” One would think that an idea to encourage student health on campus would make it into this list — instead of at least one of the three campus art-related ideas!

Then again, my idea involved pointing out something wrong with the university. Evidently, they want innocent innovations that improve for the sake of improving, not innovations that call attention to and address actual problems or absences. To endorse my idea would have been to publicize one of the university’s points of neglect.

Now, I cannot remember whether the university acquires the complete rights for your idea upon submission, or upon selection, but my blogs from two years ago seem to say it was the former (back then, at least; but I can’t see why this would have changed — unless someone submitted a “Good Idea” to change it). If so, then it seems that the university could just as well consider and even implement my idea (“their” idea, now) without either having to (1) reward me for my intellectual production (i.e., actually “purchase” the rights to my idea — each “Good Ideas” winner receives $500), or (2) publicize the idea and therefore the points of neglect it calls attention to. In other words, the way the “Good Ideas” Contest is structured is such that the best ideas, the ideas that actually address shortages and points of neglect on the university’s part, have no reason to be rewarded or recognized. (What irony for an institution designed to provide incentives for intellectual production.) Why publicize these ideas, which draw attention to the university’s faults, when the university can anyway do with them what it will?

It is not that such ideas are intended solely to point out the university’s faults; it’s merely that, in order to suggest an improvement to faults, they must first suggest that these faults exist. Evidently, in the case of the subject of my idea (hygiene), the university (via its puppet student adjudication committee) was unwilling to contradict its shiny, air-brushed public image as a pristine and cleanly place of learning.

Well, consider for yourself. Here is my idea, which it may be now illegal for me to publish if it is, in fact, no longer my property:

uOttawa needs to make its computer and study stations hygenic. Research has shown the computer keyboard and mouse to be among the filthiest surfaces in the office and home, containing five times the germs of a toilet seat. Among the microbes: dangerous bacteria such as E. coli. [We only had 200 or 250 words, so it was somewhat difficult to include citations, but I think this research has been publicized enough that most people have by now heard something of it.] One can imagine, then, how much bacteria a PUBLIC computer terminal might contain. With uOttawa’s keyboards and mice, imagining isn’t difficult: you can see and feel for yourself the grease and grime, the particles of dirt, hair, dust, skin. [Anyone who has used Ottawa U's computers knows that this is no exaggeration.]

According to a BBC article—from 2004!—the problem’s not just keyboards, but work stations as a whole (desk, phone, etc.), which “contain nearly 400 times as many microbes [as] lavatories.” Students spend a lot more time at computers and study desks than they do in bathrooms. Why not enforce the same standards of cleanliness for work stations as we do for bathrooms?

There’s a feasible solution: (1) Include in our custodians’ duties the cleaning and/or inspection of keyboards, mice, and study desks; (2) Place near every cluster of computers cleaning spray or wipes, with which every user would be obligated to clean his/her keyboard and mouse after use—much in the same way as s/he would a machine at our gym; (3) Mount instructive signs or warning labels near computer stations.

Otherwise, with computers so integral to student life, we are harbouring an unnecessary, disgusting health hazard. Our lavatories are cleaned every day. Have our greasy keyboards EVER, even once, been cleaned?