Link-age

So this plagiarism issues is certainly interesting. It's fun to look at what constitutes credit on the world of the internet, as certain things , links, to be precise, just won't work in your standard term paper.

It seems most bloggers like the "this" method. The "This Method" is the term I've decided upon for a paragraph of text, with the link as the word "this," as in "so-n-so says in this post...."

Pretend that "this" is a link, ok? Bear with me here.

In the context of a blog, simply linking to something doesn't equal plagiarism. The blogger hasn't reproduced any of the material on their own blog/server/etc, and most will generally say something along the lines of "check out this link to AwesomeSite.com at www.awesomesite.com" which puts credit on someone else.


Some people, of course, like to be a little more descriptive than Mr. Awesome Site Linker, and like to include a chunk of the text in the blog post, somewhere around the accompanying link. Usually, it's a paragraph, with "read more of this at so-n-so's blog" which once again places credit where credit is due. Posts that simply copy text, and never credit, are plagiarism, but difficulty in calling it plagiarism comes in giving credit to "insert name here" and never linking. In traditional citation, the writer gives all the information the reader needs to access the sources from which the information was drawn. The author, the publisher, etc. The internet equivalent of giving someone all the information they need to read for themselves is a link.

Copying a paragraph of the text linked to, and posting it (along with appropriate credit, of course) is even beneficial to the original writer. When a possible reader reads that little snippet, they are getting a preview of it, and may be more inclined to click on the link, thus, the original writer gets a bit of advertising.

In a standard college essay, it seems the only good way to achieve the convenience of linking would be to include copies of all the sources with the essay, and reference them with something like headers or Post-It-Notes. Linking is the same as the citation pages on an essay, just instant.

All in all, as long as you go out of your way to credit, and credit again, avoid copying entire passages, and link/cite correctly, plagiarism shouldn't be an issue.

Although, it may be fun to watch someone walk the line and argue it...

Flooding Is Fun and Educational - Weekend

Rain is CRAZY.

You know in movies, when they have a torrential downpour and see people come out of that rain, and you think "There's no way that person got that wet, that quick."? It happens. By the end of the night, I had bubbles in my shoes. BUBBLES.

Lu-Lu's ended up being a TON of fun. We amassed me, Trin, Molly, Bryan from Japanese, Greg from Molly's general floor (the third one I know. I'm thinking they need exponents), Joiner/Adrian and Matt. I think that's everyone. Yeah.

Tried to seek shelter from the torrentiallness of it all under Bryan's umbrella and hit a parking meter. Yes. Third parking meter I've neglected to notice while walking. Points for me in the fact that it was dark and raining.

Lu-Lu's was awesome again, no one is surprised. I skipped with Matt a good block of the way there. We were given "chopwsticks" when we arrived and it seems that Greg to the third hadn't had anything Asian before. So, not only did we have to secure his "chopwsticks" with Molly's hair tie, he hadn't even had something as common as General Tso's. Shock and Dismay, even my craptastic hometown had a Chinese place. We managed, and even had a few chopstick wars involing throwing stuff in each others drinks. We were all randomly loud, and they probably wanted us out as fast as humanly possible.

We HAD to get some mango ice cream of course, as I refused to go to Lu Lu's without having had that. Molly fed me a smidge of redbean ice cream, which was just as fabulous. We took to reciting jingles from television ( I still know Stick Stickly's address) and singing "Cat, I' a Kitty Cat, and I dance, dance, dance, and I dance, dance, dance..." Molly fed me some gum to shut me up. This resulted in pouting, which resulted in pats on the head. ("I love you too, dear, I just want you to shut up.")

Matt sang a song about an exploding toilet on the way home. I need to ask him to sing it for me again, it was a trip. I hope Bryan wasn't too completely "what the heck have I subjected myself to?".

Several minutes later, Molly took off across the cathedral lawn with Matt and I in tow. We came to river which was formally a sidewalk. Matt was carried across as he was in sandals, or just because, I don't really know. I was just merrily watching, and then was asked if I wanted to be carried. I protested that she couldn't pick me up.

"How much?"

"*insert weight here*"

Note to self. She evidently CAN pick me up.

"Ones"

One person.

A world of 5.5 billion.

If that one person can read this, they can speak to 443 million of those people. If that same person read Mandarin Chinese instead, the number of possible people he can converse with rises to a level of anywhere from 864 million to a billion. Billion has nine zeros. Million has 6. If this person speaks Mandarin, he can speak to the largest percentage of the world population. If this person spoke English (as the language with second most speakers) as well, this percentage is even higher. One in 5.5 billion is a lonely number. A person in your family is a “one”, just like a 10 year old boy in Russia is. That 5.5 billion is a considerable amount of “ones”.

Imagine if every “one” spoke only to himself, with a language only he could understand. Each “one” would have no way of communicating with the others, no way of sharing ideas, asking questions, or understanding his fellow “ones.” Eventually a single “one” attempts to engage in conversation with another one, speaking only his language and demanding that the other understand. The other “one” is annoyed and rather insulted, especially since the first “one” barged into the second “ones” home with this behavior.

English speakers (or perhaps just Americans) have a tendency to do this to other countries. ‘Since English is taught in all these other places’, they rationalize, ‘surely I don’t need to make an effort to speak the local tongue before I take my 6 month business trip/vacation/flee from the government before I get work done/visit/hide. ‘ So, tourists spend weeks in places like Japan speaking loudly, rudely, and in a painfully enunciated voice to all the shopkeepers and natives as though a slow, annoying foreign tongue is easier to understand than a standard speed one. As an English speaker, for example, you aren’t going to understand ‘kaimasen ka?’ no matter how slow it is uttered.

A language is an important part of culture, and thus, a part of the people. Attempts to understand a language, if even just little phrases to make conversing that much easier, are attempts to appreciate the speakers themselves. Even failed attempts are appreciated. It’s the thought that counts, right? Learning another language is opening oneself up to a group of millions of people, or even as few as a hundred or so, with whom, previously, conversations simply could not happen. Connecting with the world is connecting with people. Connecting with people is conversation.




Language learning should not just be a possible option, but something one desires to do. The world is far bigger than the lone person’s “one”, and forcing 5.5 billion others to accommodate “one” is not only selfish and rude, but rather inconsiderate. Americans often say “Learn the language before you come here!” Other countries say the same things. Isolation from the world hurts the “one” as much as it irritates the 5.5 billion.

There should be no one so arrogant so as to think that the world must cater to him. He should be attempting to be a citizen of the world. He is the “one” and the world is the 5.5 billion. Yes, 443 million others may be with him, but million only has six zeros, billion has nine. And he may find that he would enjoy what the other three zeros have to say.

Trapped Procrastinator's College

I live in the moment.

The last moment.

I am a procrastinator.

College isn't made for procrastinators, but I well imagine it breeds more of them, and nurtures more of them than highschool ever could. Highschool didn't give you random breaks during the day, or online homework that could be done at 1am. After all, we don't have to get up at 6:30 anymore.

Something happened when I got here. In escaping from a place where I felt trapped, I let something out that had been fighting to burst out for what I imagine was several years. I have met more wonderful people in the past few weeks (that I would never have gotten the chance to meet otherwise) than in the entirety of my other 18 years of existance. I know have friends from Maine, Texas, Philly, New York, and Tennesee. I also found some people who, although lived near me, I simply never saw there.

So then, who changed?

My BEING changed. I feel as though I'm on a vacation when I'm here, despite classes.

I never imagined I'd get the chance to GO to Japanese, let alone say I didn't want to go.

(It took me a while to find this blog again, and I'm still having a hard time finding the addresses of everyone else's. Am I just an idiot or something?)

Dude, where's my blog?