The Art Of Convolution

No Seriously, Listen To This

2010-03-02T13:20:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

I'm cool. I have no idea if you are cool. Maybe. Who knows?

But I am. Count on it. Son.

The Heart Is A Stone And This Is A Stone That We Throw
See, only a cool person would have said, "Son" after the last sentence. If you saw it coming ahead of time, you're cool. If you didn't, maybe you are, but the outlook does not look good (burned 8-ball style).

Part of being cool is the music. I like cool music. You could call me a hipster, or an indie rocker, but I'd deny it. Cool people deny things. Cuz.

With Our Legs On The Edge And Our Feet On The Horizon

I got this friend on mine that listens to the same music as me. He is cool. We'll call him Junior Mint (even though his name is Brent). We listen and judge and compare notes. He goes to more concerts than me, and I have probably heard more albums. We bring different flavors to the mix and we bring each others game up. It's awesome.

Now Junior Mint has a wife, Isabella (whose real name is April). Isabella is into the music scene that me and Junior Mint are into. She's genuinely interested. Why do I bring this up? Why am I changing the names up? Because my wife, Robyn is cooler than us.

Legs Parallel, We Stood So Long We Fell

Robyn is genuinely disinterested in cool music. I've tried. I've gotten her to listen to songs that she might like even if I don't. Occasionally it works. But only occasionally.

See, Robyn is suspicious of anything that she thinks she's supposed to do. I, other the other hand, am interested in having opinions and listening habits that the generally accepted cool brand issues to me. Bro.

And the thing is that she is impervious. Even if she likes it, if she sniffs even the slightest bit of requirement from the artist or media, she's off it. This is amazing and frustrating and amazing.

This Push and Pull Is The Force Of A Wave Of Time

I listen to indie music because I think of it as a reaction to what mainstream culture produces. Currently, that means a lot of awful hip-hop. But the indie music scene is probably the most codified culture out there. It's an otherness, but a very specific otherness. I am aware of this and I still listen. I actually like the music. Kid.

But Robyn rejects that and embraces whatever happens to cross her path that she happens to like also . Like Train's "Hey, Soul Sister". I'm out there, machete in hand, hacking through the jungle of music to find new and interesting things. She isn't interested in working for it. She's can't be bothered. She's aloof. She's cool.

It Can't Be Gone, We're Still Right Here

This "working for it", the thing that my brand of music holds as essential to music fandom, she rejects completely. She then embraces the mainstream music scene not out of ignorance of the other worlds of music, but in protest of them. Is she aware of this protest? I have no idea. It's irrelevant to the fact that she is doing it.

So all of this means that Robyn is cooler than me. Of course she hasn't listened to the Sleigh Bells demo, she doesn't know why My Bloody Valentine is important, and she has no opinion on who is the bigger creative genius in Animal Collective, but she wins. Because she doesn't care. And that's cool. Daddy-O.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Wine, Women, and Song...ish.

2010-02-01T07:45:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

Where Did It Start, We Used To Be Friends

I just went to a concert this last weekend. It was not dangerous. I was disappointed.

I arrived early. My fellow early concert-goers were all teenagers save for two moms. I realized at that moment I would never go to a concert ever again.

And I Hope That You Listen, All I'm Trying To Say Is

But as the night went on, more and more drinking-aged folks began to trickle in. I was happy that I was simply lame for showing up early and not some creepy old dude at a concert. Why lame is better than creepy I'm not sure, it just is.

But in the middle of the night I realized how much concerts had changed in the last fifteen years. At least rock concerts have changed. I have no idea what happens at other genres. You'll have to check a classical fan's blog.

And I Don't Wanna Fight Anymore

Nothing crazy was going to happen at the concert. You could tell. No fighting. No one would be too drunk. No one brought a knife, a gun, or a knife-gun. The concert was populated with high-schoolers, their moms, and reasonably drinking adults. There was hardly three smokers in the bunch. In fact I smelled pizza the entire night. Not marijuana, not cigarettes...pepperoni Za.

That's right. They served pizza at a rock concert.

The whole thing felt like it took place in a mall. It was sanitized, child-proofed, warning-labeled rock and roll. What the heck happened?

I Don't Want To Point The Finger, I Just Know I Don't Like It

If rock is music geared toward teens, and those teens are being raised by helicopter parents, then it makes sense that the rock venues would change in order to accommodate the changing customer. If the customer wants the safest rock concert they can get, someone will provide that concert. But I wonder if this is a symptom of a larger truth about America.

I Really Want To Be Your Friend Forever

Do we want safe everything? Do we want to eliminate all risk? America is often compared to Rome and we generally blame the fall of Rome on overindulgence (and a crumbling infrastructer and increassingly ineffective leadership). Overindulgence is pictured as lustful, greedy, cutthroat, amoral, desensitized, even violent. But maybe Rome fell because they became to docile, complacent. Maybe when the enemies arrived at the gate, the Romans weren't ready to fight anymore. Maybe wealth didn't turn them into overstimulated, devil-may-care heathens, it turned them into very safe, very pleasant comsumer-pacifists.

And it made their concerts kind of sucky.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Anyone Know Why I'm Saying?

2010-01-29T08:07:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

Open Up Your, Open Up Your, Open Up Your Throat

I believe that everyone should be required to watch themselves having a conversation with someone else on video. This is probably the only way to effectively become self-aware. And really why deny ourselves this oppurtunity to rocket past every philosopher in history.

I'm sure your confused right now. What can I say? You haven't watched yourself. What other outcome would you expect?

I Know It Sucks That Daddy's Dumb But Try To Think Of What You Want

In college I took theatre courses. There were excercises that required us to watch our performances on video. It was horrible. It was embarrassing. It changed everything.

Instead of believing what I thought I was like, I was confronted with what I was truly like. I had no idea i was that tall. In my head thought I was pretty close to normal, but the reality was different. I was struck with what others saw first. It was my own first impression.

Support Your Brother, Sports Brother, Support Your Brother

By seeing myself, I saw how different I was. This is key because I think everyone else has a similar delusion: that they look normal. But we are totally wrong. Each of us is so freaking un-normal. And I think this is what drives people to talk in cliches.

Let The All Of That Time, All Of That Time, All Of That Time Go

This is the second benefit of watching a conversation that you are in: you have to hear yourself. Mostly, you have to hear how boring you are. See, we think that we look normal and sound extrodinary, but the opposite is true.

We laugh when things aren't funny, we make staements that we don't beleive in, and we repeat things that sound like something that someone like us would say at the time. Essentially, we feel a need to just say our lines and get off stage before anyone figures out that we don't have any answers.

You Got To Weigh What He Said To Help You Shape The Way You Play

Philosophers were interested in truth and understanding who we are. Today, philosophy is a required college credit and nothing more. I think the reason we aren't interested is that with video equipment we can all become philosophers. What other device can make yourself so keenly aware of who you are? Not books I tell you. Not thinking hard.

You Gotta Get Rid Of The Mourning, Sort Out The Habits Of Your Mind

Watch yourself, even if you don't use a camera, float above yourself. You know exactly why you are saying the things you say. It blows your mind. You know the subtext. Or worse, you have no idea why you say the things that you say. That is even more puzzling.

It would be like you reading blog posts from four years ago and wondering "What the heck were you doing" and "Why haven't you posted in so long".

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

The Room: Audience Participation Guide

2010-01-26T12:02:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

Have you seen the movie "The Room"?

You should, it's awesome. Especially live at a theatre.

This is a very short post to let you know that I made an audience particiation guide.

Here's the link:

The Room: Audience Participation Guide

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

For Better And/Or Worse

2009-01-26T18:01:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

Eye Of A Hurricane, Listen To Yourself Churn

Video games have now outsold DVDs. People still bought DVDs, just not as many video games. What does this mean?

This kind of event usually elicits a reaction of wistful "how-it-used-to-be" feelings. Some common remembrances: monochrome TV/film, prominence of stick-and-ball/cardboard-box gaming, corporal punishment, longer guitar solos in pop music, agricultural summer jobs, et cetera.

Generally the thought is that previous generations had a more difficult time than current and future generations. But I don't think that is true. I think that problems experienced in each era are merely different, not harder or easier.

With The Furies Breathing Down Your Neck

This can also be applied when thinking about differing families. Typically single people are thought to have an easier time than married people. And going further, those with children have an even more difficult time than anyone. This, at first, seems self-evident. If you have kids, there are more people that that require food and attention, and they can't get jobs to help with the bills.

But perhaps we should rethink this. Sure children require money, but isn't loneliness a problem as well? What if having extra money and time leads to emptiness? Are these problems easy?

Every Motive Escalate

I think that not allowing singles to have hard times, genuinely hard times, leads to a comtempt of their lives. I believe that when agreeing that folks on their own have simpler problems, we offer a troubling admission: that having a family and children is more meaningful that being single.

This is becasue, generally, when something is arduous we believe it to be more consequential. So when we say that living on your own is easy, are we saying that it is less consequential? I think we do it more often than we are aware.

A Tournament, A Tournament, A Tournament Of Lies.

This thinking can also be applied to the earlier look at reminiscing. While "kids today" don't appreciate how easy it is, adults are much more thankful and were much more gracious growing-up. But this isn't true. All were snot-nosed brats, all were spoiled, and all were unappreciative. In a sense, all were children. We all know this to be true. But we still play out our role and point to baggy pants and hip-hop and cry out "The sky is falling!"

We fail to realize that none of these people have a job or bills or responsibility. None of them have ever had their hearts broken. None of them have failed. If none of us have ever endured these things, we would act invincible too.

Mount St. Edelite, Leonard Bernstein

The fact is, no one has a harder life than anyone else. Sometimes we act like Atlas, and feel like our silent martyrdom makes us better, but it is a lie. The whole idea is arrogance. Our struggles are human, our problems can be solved, and that is why we should have hope. The trials of today will become the memories of tomorrow. We can only connect the dots in hindsight.

When looking back, we shouldn't feel as if things were easier or harder. They simply were. FDR didn't know if the Nazis could be beat. The folks who ran on their banks didn't know they were fueling the crash of '29. We think that folks in the past have all the information, but they don't. They were just making it up like we are.

And I Feel Fine

The same can be said for anyone walking around today. Rather than assume they could never understand our tremendous burdens, maybe we drop the sufferer act and assume they probably have a hard time too.

It's a tough world out there already for all of us; past, present, or future. So let's ease-up on each other.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Heterophenomenology

2009-01-21T17:05:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

I am certain that I don't feel emotions. Well to clarify, I don't feel emotions as deeply as my wife. Whenever something angers her, she feels rage. I can tell the difference. When the sad part of a movie comes, she cries. I feel nothing. I can tell the difference, even if I can't feel it.

Who's Gonna Tell You Things, Aren't So Great?

My first instinct is to think that I am a robot, but I haven't figured it out yet. Like in Blade Runner.

Now I realize that some people may not have seen Blade Runner yet, and I may have just ruined the film. But I don't feel sorry about it. I have no emotions (That and Blade Runner kinda sucks as a movie and I don't think I ruined anything special).

Unfortunately, I have no other robotic features: superhuman strength rockets on my feet, laser palms, jaws that can bite through iron. I've attempted to make giant computations without a calculator, but I can only solve problems well within human ability. But this doesn't upset me. I don't get upset.

And Who's Gonna Plug Their Ears, When You Scream?

Science fiction often depicts robots as preoccupied with "breaking their programming" in order to gain human emotions. Data, Kryten, A.I., I Robot, all are guilty of attempting to go against their internal nature. Asmiov would not be pleased. But if he were a robot, he wouldn't care.

You see, if these robots were aware enough to realize they had no emotions, and they also had the ability to break their programming, I don't think they would go through with it. I think they may feel unmoved about the whole matter. Why would they want to add something to their persona that doesn't help them complete a task? They are machines. They are indifferent.

But let's say a robot does want to make the leap. Let's say I, as a robot, did realize I had no emotions. Should this revelation concern me? If it did, where does one go to get emotions? Do you get new ones or do you just the ones you have amplified? How does a robot break their programming?

You Can't Go On, Thinkin' Nothings Wrong

I realize that not having deeper emotions might make me a shallow person. But that doesn't mean I would be a stupid person. I could still be an intellectual. I do not think I would be a passionless person either. I would still want things and want them strongly. I do not think would be unsympathetic. I would still care for people and care deeply.

To me, there is a difference between sense and sensation. Jane Austen was on to something, even if her books are basically soap operas*.

*It is important to note that my attitudes about Jane Austen works are largely fed by film and TV versions of her books. You might think that doesn't count, but I am not interested in that rationale. I'm a Robot.

Who's Gonna Drive You Home, Tonight?

I wonder if experience pales without deeper emotional context. Can I not understand the world fully without emotion? After all, this is how I truly feel. This is the "programming" that I have been given. Why would I need or want to try and break it? Too often we decide that how we feel is the most important part of a situation. If angry, then it is a righteous anger, we are totally right to be angry. If something is not pleasant, then the something is wrong. "I would not feel wrong if something was not actually wrong," we might say to ourselves. But I think we are confusing how we feel with how things are.

Let's look at something we probably all agree on: often it is right to not seek justice and instead offer mercy, even though justice makes us feel better. This is a struggle for us, but why? Why are we so preoccupied with making sure others know they are wrong? Do we want to be sure that we do the hurting before we get hurt? Why are we treating each other this way?

To me, this proves that caring is not a feeling, but a decision. It often doesn't make a feel better. In fact we feel worse. When conversations turn to doing the right thing we often act as if doing good made us feel better, but how often is this the case? Don't we have to put emotion aside in order to do what is best?

Don't we have to break our programming?

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Someone Else's Life

2006-10-03T21:17:00.000-07:00

Dear Avid Reader,

A Finger Fired A Trigger To His Name

I sat in my car at an intersection one night. One of those intersections next to a freeway overpass. And my fellow drivers and I were waiting patiently on the feeder road for the light to change when our rear views were filled with flashes of blue and red. Before we had a chance to react, they were upon us.

A Hand Set The Spark, Two Eyes Took The Aim

Zoom. A dark four-door pulled up to our right sides. Deftly it made a quick left-hand turn from the far right lane and was sent sliding under the overpass. Soon, no less than three police cruisers were zipping right behind in hot pursuit from the on-ramp to our rear. The sirens and lights surrounded us. They followed the four-door's lead and slid under the highway above. The four-door accelerated onto the opposite on-ramp, flying back the direction from whence it came.

On The Caboose Of The Train, But He Can't Be Blamed

And then, the entire intersection was filled with light. A bright cone of light descended from the sky, as if we were being abducted. The thwud-thwud-thwud of a helicopter followed and then vanished. The intersection fell silent and dark and the scene became tranquil, normal, as if nothing had happened.

Used In The Hands Of Them All Like A Tool

I have never been that close to a high speed chase and let me tell you it was exciting. And I pondered the event as I drove home. At first I thought, "What is this guy thinking? He's gone get caught. He'll run out of gas or something, the cops will drag him out of his car, beat him, and then he'll go to jail. Why prolong the inevitable?"

To Keep Up His Hate, So He Never Thinks Straight

And I had a realization. I just saw this guy's life change forever. After tonight, he'll always have this moment on his record. As he goes for a job, for a loan, anyone he meets, he'll have to explain what happened. This moment will affect his life forever and it will never be the same. And we all have had moments like this. And I was fascinated by that.

And The Hoofbeats Pound In His Brain

But of course, few of these moments are as dramatic as this one. But I see a similarity in it. Take a wedding. Isn't it a moment that will change the course of you natural life? Everything after the ceremony will be an offshoot of this one. And people like to go to weddings. I think perhaps it's because we like to be a part of the moment. Here are these two people that are going to put their lives together and change the way they live forever. There is something reassuring about it. Our lives can change as well, the proof is that these people's lives are changing, and it's changing right before our very eyes.

With His Fists In A Clench

The car chase was exactly like that. But can we take anything from these moments? Moments that are significant for others but have no direct impact on our own life? Or is it like looking into a mirror, where we can only take a meaning that we have created before the moment happens? Only a reflection of the fragility of our own existence.

They Lowered Him Down As A King

The moment haunted me. I vacillated between its significance and its meaninglessness. No worse for the wear. Deciding to put the memory in the back of my mind. I turned away from the mirror. I worry that this tale has meant nothing.

His Epitaph Plain, Only A Pawn In Their Game

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

The Stink Of Desperation

2006-09-26T11:28:00.000-07:00

(*Note: It's depressing, but trust me, I'm fine.)

Dear Avid Reader,

I was watching Elizabethtown the other day (good movie, check it out). And during the two-hours traffic, one of the major threads is making the distinction between a fiasco and a failure. Failure is simply the absence of success, but a fiasco, the movie contends, is failure on a much more grand, more epic scale.

If you want a study of a fiasco, please see the movie. But for a description of a failure, sit back relax, and allow me to take you through the phases of a failure in the context of looking for a new job.

Phase I: Blind Optimism

In this phase you are sure of yourself. Confident. You are secure in the fact that you have studied at whatever school that you studied and are absolutely sure you will be able to find a job in a matter of days or weeks. After all you have a Masters degree. You aren't some shmoe with a measly Bachelors, no no, YOU have a Masters. You are twelve feet tall and bullet-proof.

Phase II: Slight Realization

Perhaps you were a bit too cocky. This is the "real world" after all, not a movie and you understand that it might take a little while to find work. But no more that a month. I mean, let's be honest, you have not only a degree, but three years of professional experience. You aren't some shmoe right out of college, you've been in the trenches, slogging it out through real problems. In the "real world".

"It's only a matter of time," you say to yourself. I mean you're going into a interview tomorrow. That's all we needed here, a little break in the action. Soon the offers will be pouring in. You are a nine foot tall Timex watch.

Phase III: Doubt

Maybe there is something going wrong here. It's been a month and a half and all you have was that one interview that you blew up because you were WAY too nervous. It was only after that terrible interview that you realized you were worried the whole time.

You begin to read articles online about "Grad Underemployment" and "College Unemployment". The stories cheer you up in a sad way. You wonder, "How close am I to them?"

Maybe your resume is wrong. Maybe you need to call back that headhunter/employee placement service, even though they want a 1/3 of your first year's income. Maybe you should pay one of these websites the 150 bucks to become a platinum member. Maybe you are just a shmoe. And maybe you should go get a lousy job for the interim, you know, just for now to pay the bills. You are six feet tall and stain resistant.

Phase IV: Full Blown Fear With A Tiny Anger Twist

There is something fundamentally wrong with you or the system of employment in America. It's been several months and you've had a few more interviews but you haven't heard anything in weeks. You are working your lousy job and are looking for signs that the situation is temporary but you can find nothing. This feels permanent. Like a guillotine.

After talking with others, you are sure that your failure is because you have "The Stink of Desperation" on you. You realize that it is a metaphor for mannerisms that everyone naturally has when that are very worried/desperate, but now you wonder. Could you actually smell with the odor of despair? You decide that washing your hands a few extra times a day and brushing your teeth a little more couldn't hurt. And you assure yourself that you aren't going crazy, you are just concerned with proper hygiene. You say that over and over as you spray the deodorant on for the fourth time today.

You wonder why your degree hasn't kicked in. You begin to consider education as simply a way to make money for the university workers with no benefit to the individual directly or society indirectly. You aren't sure, but you feel like a statistic in an online article. You are three feet tall and will visibly scratch if mishandled.

Phase V: Fury And Hyper-Fatalism

The entire universe is a machine that mass produces anguish. You have received letters from your other interviews saying that you haven't gotten the job. You didn't realize it until you got those letters, but the only thing that kept you going with a modicrum of positivity was the hope that you would get those jobs. Now you have nothing.

You are looking online for jobs the first thing in the morning and the last thing before you go to bed. Careerbuilder, Monster, Hotjobs, you have accounts at them all. What's more, you can carry on a very detailed conversation and still apply for jobs. It has become second nature. Like breathing.

You start to consider a manager's position at your lousy job. Perhaps you are simply fated to work here. Maybe you cannot escape your destiny. Maybe you can't get a job, because they can smell you, through the e-mails. You're showering four times a day and your hands are red from the washing, but maybe the stink is deeper that that. It is a stink of your soul and only those fated to have jobs can smell the stink on those fated to have lousy jobs.

At this point you are sure higher education is a racket. It's only benefit to the world is the construction of sturdy buildings. You are less that a foot tall and bruise easily.

Phase VI: Spiraling, End-Over-End Depression

The universe doesn't just mass produce anguish, no, it only mass produces your anguish. You still look online for jobs, but often can be heard muttering, "What's the point?" You are inconsolable. You begin to search your life, to pinpoint where it all went wrong. You decide that your tombstone will read simply "Failure". No name, no date. Or maybe you will have an unmarked grave. Yeah, that way, no one will be able to consider your failure of a life. You are one inch tall, the size of a bullet.

Phase VII And Beyond: ?

I have no idea how long it will take to find a job. But it feels like forever. The worst part is not knowing how long it will take. The seeming endlessness of it. There could be ten phases, a thousand, I don't know and that is what is killing me. But I plug away, I send my resume, and I grit my teeth when ever anyone says, "It will all work out."

But things are looking up. Yesterday, the wife and I went to a Chinese buffet and I got some good news. When I got my fortune cookie (and I LOVE fortune cookies) it said, "The world will soon be ready for your talents."

And as Carl Spackler once said, "So I got that going for me, which is nice."

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

You'll Never Take Me Alive!

2006-09-21T14:34:00.000-07:00

Dear Avid Reader,

So they shut me down, eh? Sent there spambots after me, eh? Called me a 404, eh? Cause I hadn't posted in two months, eh?

Oh wait...that was my fault.

Yeah they tried to shut down my site calling it spam. Then they reestablished it with a new number in my web address. The jerks.

Anyway, I'll try and get some more posts in.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

I HATE Moving

2006-06-23T14:47:00.000-07:00

Dear Avid Reader,

I HATE Moving.

I hate putting everything into boxes. I hate carrying those boxes. I hate driving all of those boxes to my new place. I hate making a special trip to my in-laws' to get my three year old wedding gifts that have been taking up my in-laws' space. I hate taking up my in-laws' space.

I HATE Moving.

I hate setting up new utilities. I hate telling people my new phone number. I hate telling people my new address. I hate unpacking boxes. I hate installing shelves. I hate fixing the plumbing when it gets stopped up because no one has lived there for five years so no one has had to use the bathroom because it has sat vacant for a shade under a decade.

I HATE Moving.

I hate getting a new drivers license. I hate getting new plates for the truck. I hate hooking up my electronics back up. I hate playing phone tag with the internet people while they are trying to get my DSL going. I hate finding out that there is no line connecting my house to the telephone pole.

I HATE Moving.

I hate switching insurance agents. I hate having to visit a bunch of churches in order to find a good one. I hate having to look for a job. I hate having to shop for a second car. I hate the realization that I have to mow.

But...I love that my wife likes the place and that she lives there with me. I love the fact that she has "decorating ideas". I love the fact that she has, for the first time, the ability to truly nest and make this house her own home.

But I still HATE moving.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

But Yesterday Came Suddenly

2006-06-16T12:05:00.000-07:00

Dear Avid Reader,

There are two hours and fifty-five minutes left in my life as a Harding University employee/student/et cetera, and I have mixed feelings to say the least.

Cue "Breakaway" performed by Kelly Clarkson

You see, I have not had the typical relationship with my university as the average work-a-day joe. Most people are able to go to their respective undergraduate college for four years, taking summers and Christmases off, and then they leave. They may complain about rules, teachers, or have other typical groans that go with college life, but they will look back on those complaints as misunderstandings that come with youth. I would love to be able to look back on my college career and dismiss my bad times as arrogant childishness. But I'm not sure that I can.

I have stayed at my college for eight years, taking only one summer away, and working in some capacity for the entire duration at the university. My life has been the ebb and flow of a Harding academic year for little under a decade. I have lived in Searcy, AR for that entire time. My memory of my college days will be different that what most might have.

See, working at Harding has changed my undergrad memories retroactively. Teachers that are brilliant in the classroom end up being the worst administrators. And some teachers that were a chore to learn from end up being the most helpful peers. And when you add the new information, it changes the old information and soon your entire past ends up being revised.

Cue "End of the Road" performed by Boyz II Men

But the biggest difference is that I have seen the warts. Here's a parable to help you understand. I was Crew chief for Spring Sing in 2002. That year, we had a guy working backstage volunteering, Mike. He was an adult and had been living in Searcy for a while and he had probably seen dozens of Spring Sings. But after one or two days of working backstage, he looked to one of the other stage hands and said, "I had no idea all of this happened backstage."

Mike had only seen the show from one side, as an audience member. The whole show had happened for him. And what's more, everything that wasn't intended for him (i.e. the set changes and the like) was completely shielded from him. That's what it's like to be a student. You don't see the fund raising, the accreditation process, or how office supplies are bought. But those things are going on all the time, and when you witness them, it changes how the university is viewed. Because the magic is gone.

Harding to me is not a glistening palace of knowledge anymore. To me it's more ordinary. I cannot think of Harding in the ethereal, it has become too human. In essence, I've seen all of the people scurrying backstage.

Cue "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)" performed by Green Day

But like I said, I have mixed feelings. So I do have good ones too. Working here has intensified what I already know: Harding rises and falls based on the character of the people on campus. There are times when the people will break your heart, and you can't believe some of the things that can happen on Harding's campus. But then, you see some of the strongest spiritual people you'll ever meet. And it is the people that I will miss.

Going back to Spring Sing 2002, I had a great crew backstage that year and they did some of the strongest backstage work I've ever seen. And I had those same feelings during several of my other jobs. There were just some good people to be around. There were a lot more good times than bad, and right now, the bad times are already seem like the typical misunderstandings of youth, childish arrogance.

Cue "I Hope You Dance" performed by Lee Ann Womack

So good-bye Harding. Farewell. We leave on good terms. I can never have the Harding that most people have, but I wouldn't trade the one I have anyway.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

I Am Now A "Master", Whatever That Means

2006-05-19T17:38:00.000-07:00

Dear Avid Reader,

It is official, I have achieved mastery of something. That something is business administration. That's right, I have an MBA. When did this happen? Last weekend apparently.

Processional

The whole idea of graduation should seem a lot weirder to us all. You wake up one Saturday, put on your best black bath robe, don your felt covered cardboard square (complete with a pull cord from your ceiling fan), walk a twenty foot straight line, shake a guy's hand, and only after that do people consider you a degreed individual. Why aren't more people questioning this procedure?

Some would say that you REALLY "get" your degree after your final paper or final test. But what makes that last project so special? Why didn't I just skip to the last test instead of taking all of the other tests before that last one?

The Speaker

I know I know, it's not the test in and of itself, it's the culmination of work that was done. I think my friend Jay put it best after I told him I was beginning my Master's work. He said, "What you'll find is that you already have a Master's degree, now you just have to go do all of the work." I think there is a lot of truth to that.

You see, I don't feel smarter and I don't feel like I have WAY more skills. I guess I just don't know what my MBA proves except that I can get an MBA. Maybe a Master's is a piece of evidence that proves that its bearer can have a large thought or even an interesting thought. You know, in case someone asks for my intelligence license. But the question that most people want answered is, have I "learned" anything?

Confirmation & The Reading Of The Names

I've probably learned more that I realize but like many milestones in life, you expect fireworks and sirens to go off and they rarely come. See, I was always jealous of people who came to graduation and got their Master's. They had those sweet looking hoods and they seemed to ooze awesome, if that makes sense. I would taste the bile of envy as they walked across the stage, hoods flowing in the air behind them. I felt like I would never reach that level of brilliance or accomplishment. It was as if I wasn't as smart as them.

So on the day I was set to get my Master's, I was so excited. I felt like the belle of the ball. During the processional, my fellow Master's candidates and I got to walk ahead the rest of the College of Business. We were beaming. But after we sat down, I began to look at all of the faculty in attendance. I realized that many of them were wearing hoods like me. A few had the stripes of a Doctorate, but most had just the hood.

And a funny thing happened. Instead of feeling like I had reached up and climbed to their high level of achievement, I felt as though I had lowered it for us all. All Master's degree holders everywhere would look to this day as the day that their education was diminished. They would all scowl and shake their fist at me as I walked by. "Thanks James," they would say, "I was in the middle of interviewing for a job and as soon as you crossed the stage the recruiter just started laughing. He laughed me out of his office!" And then they would throw a rock a me.

Climb Every Mountain

I guess instead of everything seeming so extraordinary, it felt so...well...ordinary. It just seemed like a natural thing for me to have this degree and to be here ready to receive it.

But during this past week I realize that that is probably what every achievement has felt like to the achiever. Einstein may have thought that is formula was perfectly un-earth-shattering. It was probably treated as pretty obvious. It may never occurred to Babe Ruth that crushing all of those home runs was peculiar. After all, he was just doing was he always did.

Recessional

So here is a Master's lesson for you (from a genuine Master): everything that has been accomplished has been accomplished by a regular person. I truly believe that what separates the ordinary from extraordinary is courage and effort. The heroes of the past did heroic things only because they tried to do something and weren't afraid to try.

So go out and try. You may just get a sweet hood out of the deal.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Where Do You Want To Eat?

2006-04-17T19:38:00.000-07:00

Dear Avid Reader,

So we all eat out. And before I get to my post, I need to expel a little guilt.

Here we are, America, arguing over where we are going to eat out, and people are starving elsewhere. I don't want to bring you down before I get to my post, but I want you to know that I struggled with the making of this post. Thank you, guilt expelled.

Something occurred to me while driving around looking for a place to eat with the wife. Now I don't care where we go, or at least I thought I didn't. But as my wife offered up suggestions I kept saying, "Naaaaahhhhh" or "Eh" or "Mmmmmm no". So obviously I DO care. So if I do care, what do I care about?

At first blush, you would think that food is the most important consideration. But as it turns out, that is not the case. You see, I always order the same things: hamburger, fajitas, or steak. I learned long ago that I don't need to try anything else.

Variety Is NOT The Spice Of Life

Every time someone convinces me to try the chicken pasta or the veal, I always eat it and say, "You know, this is alright, but I'd rather be eating a steak." Every time, period. Nothing is better than eating a hamburger, fajitas, or steak. And usually the table next to us has a guy eating a great big steak, with a HUGE smile on his face. And there I sit, eating taco salad or salmon, trying to suppress the urge to kill the man with the steak. My rage rising with each bite and each time the convincer says, "See, isn't this better than the steak?"

No. It's not. Ever.

This practice is a huge frustration to my wife, who could not imagine having the same thing twice in a week. "Here have a bite of this vegetable lasagna. It's great." I look up at her from my hamburger, confused. We've done this before. Why does she continually try to torture me? Why try and sully a palette that is swimming in hamburger?

"No thanks." I reply and return to my feast. But this isn't good enough.

"No really. It's good. Just a little," she insists. It's as if she thinks I've never had vegetable lasagna or seafood linguine or whatever sub-hamburger dish she has ordered. I've had other stuff before, it's how I know hamburgers are what I want. Trust me.

"I'll just have my hamburger, thanks." I say, hands reaching for the manly sandwich, mouth opening, preparing to receive the kingly delight.

"Honestly, how you can have the same thing over and over..." she trails off, lost in disgust.

She may not understand, but I do. And I've taken my eating habits and turned them into a lifestyle.

Mmmmm That Sounds Good...Or Does It?

I won't buy anything unless I know I'll like it. When it comes time to buy vegetable for the house, I won't buy lettuce because salad "sounds good". I know I won't eat it, the whole head will rot in the crisper. So I buy carrots because I know I will eat them because there is no prep time involved. Simple. You can call it "Hamburger Philosophy".

The same goes for furniture or clothes. I get nothing that "sounds good", whatever that means. I wear simple things, I sit in simple chairs, that's how we roll in this joint. Get your own joint if you disagree with the practices of this joint, which I happen to operate.

So now we are dressed and we know what we want, the question again, is where to go. Because I like the simpler fare of hamburgers and most hamburgers are the same, choosing becomes simpler. I mean you really can't surprise someone with super-creativity when it comes to meat and bread. This is of course except for Ruby Tuesday but I couldn't convince my wife to go there every time we go out even if there was one close to where I live.

"Ruby Tuesday again? Honestly how you can want to go the same place over and over..." she would say, falling over a cliff of repulsion.

The Perfect Dining Experience Minus The Dining

So when I can take food out of the equation, where do I want to eat? It comes down to comfort. I like a lots of space, cause I'm a large dude. So when the wife would bring up a place, I would think about the last time I was there and if I felt crowded or uncomfortable, I wouldn't want to go. I wouldn't even think about what I ate there.

Take our local Chinese place that I'll call Chinese Place. The wife LOVES it. It's got curry shrimp and she loves the stuff. But every time I go there, I feel out of place, or in the way. I think it's the lay-out. I know the food is good, even though it doesn't have hamburgers, but when I get there, I just feel like leaving. And here's the test: even if they did serve a steak or hamburger at Chinese Place, I wouldn't want to go.

I tired this test with a friend of mine. I asked him to tell me his favorite food. It was steak (You can see how we would be friends). And I asked him to tell me his least favorite restaurant, which was Restaurant X (I can't for the life of me remember what he said). I then asked him if he would eat a delicious steak in Restaurant X. He thought about it, and then said, "No". Once again, food was secondary to atmosphere.

I think this theory has legs. It really doesn't matter anymore what you serve, so long as the price and quality match up. Usually it does match up and the food is passable. So what matters the most now is the atmosphere. I think people would eat almost anything you got, so long as they're comfortable while doing it. Even if it wasn't a steak.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

On Greatness and Presentations

2006-04-13T20:49:00.000-07:00

Dear Avid Reader,

I was in a class recently. And in this class, I was assigned to participate in a group project. I hate group projects.

No seriously, I HATE them.

In my MBA career I have been a part of three group projects. In my final class, I will participate in my fourth. Each of these group projects have a presentation element to them, in that there is a company or large idea that must be presented to the rest of the class. I love presentations.

Seriously, I LOVE them.

So Which One Of The Two Will You Talk About First?

I want to talk about presentations first. I wasn't aware of my love of presentations until late in my undergraduate career. I should have noticed my ability and love during my Directing class. In this class, we had to present to the class the emotional feeling of a play. This was to help us with being able to convey our directorial vision to actors and staff. I choose I Hate Hamlet, and for my presentation, I chose to play some awesome They Might Be Giants songs. And it worked, my presentation was a success.

But it wasn't until later that I was assigned a full-on, official presentation. Looking back, it was striking that I didn't have more presentations. But I was a theatre major and I guess there is little need for formal presentation skills when you are in the theatre.

But my first presentation was assigned in my last semester as an undergrad in my Contemporary Drama class. Everyone was to choose either a significant theatre movement or person and present that topic for twenty minutes, as well as turn in a paper. I choose Antoin Artaud and his Theatre of Cruelty. My presentation was awesome. I used video, my thoughts were complete, I conveyed them well, everything went way better than I thought it would.

Afterward, I thought about how much I had learned from doing this and how sad it was that I was not able to do something like this in all of my previous classes. But as I graduated I was more thankful that I would never have to be in class again.

But Alas, It Was Not My Last Class

When I arrived at my first post-graduate class, I was intimidated. I mean, here I was, a guy with a useless B.A. in Theatre of all things, in a room full of accountants and business majors. I kept thinking, "Don't make a fool of yourself. Just keep quiet and maybe they'll let you slide on by and pass".

It was there in that Economics classroom where I received my first assignment. Pick a any economic topic and present it to the class for 15 minutes and write an eight page paper.

I was terrified.

Long had I forgotten about the triumph in my theatre class. I just wanted to finish in the middle of the pack. So I prepared...diligently.

I made a PowerPoint slide show. It was my first attempt to make a PowerPoint, ever. But I quickly became an expert. I began fooling with the animations. I added a lot of graphics. I just did things that made sense to me. I became a powerpoint ninja on that day.

When I arrived at class, the teacher picked me to go first. I was so freaked out. But, when it came time to give the presentation, I approached the presentation as if it were a show and I fell back on my theatre experience. That last sentence sounds corny, but it's true, for real true. I thought of the class as an audience and I remembered that I needed to project and plant my feet. I spoke slowly and clearly. I was engergized.

After the presentation, I sat down and prayed that I didn't look like an idiot. But as it turned out, I had the best stuff in the class. Everyone else just sort of tried to cross the finish line. I was stunned, and excited.

There was a second presentation that was assigned for this class, twenty minutes and tweleve pages. And this one was truly great. I mean after the presentiaton, the professor said "I've never thought of it like that before". That high stinkin' praise right there and you know it is! And for the second one, I tried out more stuff. I tried to use the animation functions in new ways. I had classmates coming up to me and asking where I learned all this stuff. This was only the second power point I had done EVER.

It Ain't Braggin' If It's True

Ever since then, I've looked forward to the presentation in each of my classes. And I have always tried to do a GREAT job. But all of my classmates always try for adequate. They want just enough to finish. Which works out great when it's individual projects, but this is also why I hate group projects.

You see, I am trying for greatness. I want everyone to say, "Wow. That was awesome. That James really can put on a show. I must remember to hire him when he applies for a job". And I cannot for the life of me get anyone else to try for that. They just want the grade and the degree. This undermines my entire plan for greatness.

In my latest group project, I pushed for there to be deadlines and a continuity to the presentation. I tried to take the reigns of leadership because I simply cannot wait for consensus. It is much to frustrating. I learned this early on in my other projects.

But they all blew off the deadlines and turned in their stuff late. They didn't care to work hard on it at all. They knew that all we had to do was talk collectively for 20 minutes and we'd basically be home free. If it was boring, fine. If it was rambling, suits them. If thoughts didn't flow neatly into one another, whatever.

And I realized something, I was the only one pushing for rehearsals and deadlines. I think they'd would've been fine with waiting until the week before it was due and then slapping it all together, which wasn't a far cry from what happened in my opinion. Once I realized this I realized I could never force them to want greatness. And that to me was the truly sad part.

If they didn't want to make the best possible project, no matter what deadlines I created or rehearsals we had, we would never make the great project that I envisioned. So we didn't. The project was mediocre. I still got an A, but it rang hollow because I couldn't lead my group to greatness. I could get them to see my vision.

Am I alone in this? Am I the only one that cares about getting further than the finish line? I look around my program at my fellow Master's canidates and I wonder about these things. How will I get these people to want greatness? These are going to be my fellow co-workers, bosses, subordinates. Am I able to spur them on to more than the finish line?

Is anyone?

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

The Time is STILL Nigh

2006-03-03T20:01:00.000-08:00

...continued from earlier post

This post is long...very long. Any novices out there may be intimidated, but don't be. Playing actually only takes 3-5 minutes. And here's the thing, your picks are just as valid as the next person's. Let me try and ease your worry.

Remember this: everyone who plays will try and pick a perfect bracket, but this never happens. Everyone makes wrong picks. So don't worry about making a wrong pick.

Still not convinced? Alright, well think about this. For a small time commitment (3-5 minutes), you could be playing a fantasy sport game for three weeks. It takes so little and you are playing for so long. And you'd be participating in something that you may have known nothing about previously. Think of this as the start of a new knowledge base that only takes a couple of minutes of work. Where else can you better your self with so little effort?

To me, NCAA Pick 'em is the simplest, easiest, and most fun fantasy game available. And it can be played by everyone. And everyone who plays has an equal opportunity for success. Whether you are an adult professional that isn't interested in sports or a little kid that wants to feel like a a grown-up, this is the game for you.

I don't try and get people to play any other fantasy sport. Fantasy Baseball has a daily time requirement and should only be played by those who are die-hard sports fans. But Pick 'em can be played by people of all skill level and can be played all across the country, even the across the world. I hope, you'll give it a try.

Now if you still want a little advice about making picks, there are a few starter rules. These tips are if it's your first time to play. Veterans usually have a more sophisticated view of how picks should be made such as the author of this article. But for novices, here are a few jumping off points to make your bracket a little more competitive:

Pick A High Seeded Champ

The champion of the tourney is usually one of the higher seeds. It's been a number 1 seed twelve times & has dipped below number 3 only three times since the field expanded to 64 teams in 1985. The last time it dipped below 3 was eight years ago when a number 4 won it all.

Keep The Final Four Around 11

If you add up all of the seeds of the Final Four teams in a given year, the average over the last 21 years is a little below 10 (9.95). Usually the Final Four is comprised of two number 1 seeds and two teams seeded 2-5.

Think Big Picture First

Fill in your Championship and Final Four teams first and then work backward. Teams in these two categories your are teams that you are (hopefully) going to be rooting for for the next three weeks. You want to be happiest with them. First round games are fun to get right, but in order to win, you need your picks to be right in the latter rounds.

Watch As Much Of The First Weekend As You Can

The first weekend is the most fun. The teams are whittled from 64 to 32 in two days and then from 32 to 16 in the next two days. Three-quarters of the teams are gone in the span of a weekend. And with each elimination, your bracket could be teetering on destruction.

Trust me, you may never have watched college basketball in your life, but after you fill out a bracket (which only takes a few minutes to do) you will be right there cheering like you have been following the teams all season. And if you can watch the games with someone you are playing against, then all the better.

So as we close in on another tournament, I extend to you an invitation. I want you to play in a league with me. Usually I pick one bracket an enter it into several leagues so I can only worry about one scenario. Each of the leagues I play in is a group of people I know. I have one for work, one for my in-laws, on for some friends I have in town, and so on. If I can fit you into one of these leagues, I will. If not, I'll start a new league.

Or if you are starting a group on your own, I'd love to join. So consider this as everyone's open invitation as well as my open acceptance to your invite. For those of you in leagues past, remind me of your participation as well as members that I may have forgotten. For those that have never played, send me a "post of intent" and I will set about setting things up.

And to all of you, good luck. May your picks be accurate and may your Final Four be intact through the first weekend.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

The Time Is Nigh

2006-03-01T16:43:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

The time has come. The most exciting time of the year.

March Madness

Some of you may not know what March Madness is. I will enlighten you.

What Are You Talking About?

March Madness is a term applied to a collegiate basketball tournament. There is an organization called the NCAA. It is comprised of over a thousand schools. These schools are placed in divisions based on size. The biggest schools are placed in Division 1-A. There are 334 of these schools.

These 334 schools are further divided into Conferences. There are 32 Conferences within Division 1-A. Each of the Conferences have varying numbers of member schools. Membership is usually based loosely on regions of America, such as the PAC-10 Conference being made up of schools that are along the Pacific Coast and members of the SEC being made up of schools located in the southeastern part of the country.

With such a large body of schools, it is hard to determine who the best basketball team is nationally. In order to figure this out, the NCAA holds a tournament to determine the best basketball team in the country. This tournament is sometimes called March Madness. Why is it "madness", I'll tell you.

It's maddening because of the scale. The tournament is played by 65 teams. 65 teams! It's HUGE!

The Tournament Selection Committee makes the field up by first including the winners of each conference's tournament (excluding the Ivy League which doesn't have a tournament). These are called automatic bids. The Selection Committee then decides of the remaining 85 schools, who are the best 33? These are called at-large bids.

And this is where a lot of controversy takes place. While there are a lot of ESPN analysts that will yell and proclaim that one school was unjustly excluded or another school was foolishly included, most of this is ignored. The fact that the top 19% of the eligible teams get in the tourney removes the argument that potentially deserving teams are left out. Arguing over who should be ranked as the 65th best team and who is the 66th best team is essentially meaningless. So long as the really good teams get in (read the top 20 or 25), no one cares about the teams that limp in.

Another argument starter is the seeding of the teams. All 65 teams are given a rank from 1 (the highest) to 16 (the lowest and there are five teams given this rank). These ranks are called seeds. The idea being that the teams rated a 1 should have the easier path to the championship than those ranked lower than them. The field is then divided into four brackets and the games are arranged thusly:

1 vs 16
8 vs 9

5 vs 12
4 vs 13

3 vs 14
6 vs 11

7 vs 10
2 vs 15

The winner of the 1 vs 16 game will play the winner of the 8 vs 9 game and so on until there is only one team left from this bracket. The winner of this bracket will go on to play the winner from one of the other three brackets and so on until there is one champion.

The initial placement of the teams also causes ESPN analysts to curse and yell, but again this argument is usually forgotten after a few days. The idea of the tournament is that the champion must win all of their games. If a team loses, then they lost and they are not the champion. The "philosophy of the scoreboard" prevails.

So now we get down to the nitty gritty. What is the big deal? Why are so many people tuning into this tournament? The reason is because of a wonderful and awesome game that everyone plays. We'll call this game "Pick 'em".

In Pick 'em, a player tries to predict the course of the tournament. In essence, the player tries to accurately predict the outcome of the tournament's 63 games before any of them are ever played. This may seem mountainous at first, but in reality, with the help of computers, the game takes only a few minutes of figuring. Here's out it works.

Let's look at the bracket from above. Let's say that Duke is ranked #1, Holy Cross #16, Arkansas #8, and Cincinnati #9. Let's say, for whatever reason, you pick Duke to win its game over Holy Cross and Cincy to win over Arkansas. You now have Duke facing Cincy in the second round. So you decide to pick Duke over Cincy. You now have Duke heading into the third round. Let's say that based on some of your other picks, you have Duke facing #4 N. C. State in the third round. You decide that N.C. State wins this match-up and proceeds in to the fourth round. This process continues until you pick the final game and a champion.

Now if your picks end up happening, then you will win points. You receive 1 point for an accurate 1st round pick, 2 for a second round pick, 4 for a third round pick, 8 for the fourth and so on until you reach 32 points for a correct champion pick. In the earlier example, if your picks were right you'd get 1 for Duke over Holy Cross, 1 for Cincy over Arkansas, 2 for Duke over Cincy, and 4 for N.C. State over Duke for a total of 1+1+2+4 = 8 points.

The ultimate goal is to accumulate more points than whomever you are playing against. This type of scoring favors accurate later round picks and championship picks. So picking your champion is the most important pick, as are your Final Four teams.

But if your picks end up not hapening, then you will not get any points. And if have planned a team to go very far into the toruney and they end up losing early on, it could be disastrous for your overall score.

continued...

Valentine's Day & The Fairer Arms Race

2006-02-14T20:31:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

It's Valentine's Day. Again. Seems like there's one of these every year.

I won't bore you with a post on how Valentine's Day is a sham. How it's nothing but an excuse for some company to cash in on men who feel guilty and women who feel trapped in a passionless life. How we swagger up to the bar and say, "Please bartender, please. Give me a dose of cards and dinners that might give me enough romance to keep my tepid relationship plugging along for one more year. Please bartender.*"

*(No, this doesn't apply to me. Quit reading too much into things.)

No, I won't go there. We've been there. Let's go somewhere else. Or somewhere that I want to go. You may have been here before, and if you have, don't ruin it for the others.

Battle Of The Sexes

There is this thing that exists between women. It can accurately be described as an "alpha lady complex". It's similar to the very well-know phenomenon called "alpha male complex". This is where men are always trying to one-up each other to assert their dominance. This leads to erratic driving behavior and the purchase of camouflage and vehicles with king-cabs among other strange habits.

With the ladies, it is the same but different, ifthat makes sense. See with men, it's men competing with men. The prize of the competition is of course women. The dominant men possesses more women. This is universally understood as fact in the terms of alpha-male complex. But with women it is more complicated.

Women compete with other women, just like men. But what are they competing for? No, not men. In fact, from what I can gather, women don't much care for men. No, women compete for the ATTENTION of men.

I know it sounds crazy, but that is the goal: to have all the men looking in their direction. Not to posses them, just to have them looking. This is why women take offense when men are checking out other ladies, it's because the other ladies are winning. But I digress.

Getting The Right Gear

Women will employ all manner of devices to ensnare men's attention. They will use clothing, make-up, hair styling, etc. Here is where I should put the cliche' about women taking too long to get ready. But I'd rather not so I'll let you come up with one. Use your imagination and make some old joke up and laugh at it. I'll wait...

Hey, that one was pretty good. Ha-ha.

Now, I'm married and I have waited for the wife to get ready (Don't worry, this isn't going to descend into a lengthy complaint about my wife). And as I was waiting one day, I decided to ask my wife, "Why don't women just get together and stop wearing make-up? Think of the money and time you would save. Men would then adapt their expectations and women would have a healthier image about their own bodies."

My wife humored me and pondered the idea. I imagine that she envisioned a world where she didn't have to design and style herself every morning for work or on the evenings that we went out. How she could treat the selection of her clothes as insignificantly as I do. In this world, she probably had the time to learn three foreign languages and could play a new instrument. With the money we'd save we could invest in the stock market or maybe even buy local real estate.

But then reality came crashing in. "No," she said gravley, "Some woman out there would try and get an edge and start using make-up. It would never work."

And then it all made sense. Women, it turns out, are just as competitive as men. And maybe they are even more so because of the daily money and time commitment that women invest to the competetion. All of the effort spent meticulously shopping, investigating, gossiping, all of it was a huge shadow, war-game that involves every women on the planet.

Scorched Earth Policy

All of the "Gone Wild" videos make sense in this context. All of the huff over men looking at other women. All of the desire to pay attention to what is being said. All of it is THE competition, and all of woman-kind is involved. And there can be no truce.

I think most women would like to call a truce, but they can't because some women "play dirty". Take the "Gone Wild" girls. Being on these tapes is akin to using biological weapons. It gets the job done, but it is considered immoral to most of the combatants.

Continuing in analogy, internet pornography is like terrorism. It's an enemy that exists, but it can't be dealt with in the traditional manner. Women used to be able to see the opposing woman and deal with her one on one, complete with declarations of war and a capital to destroy. But with the internet, women are faced with an enemy that has no capital and has cells stationed all over the world.

During this revelation, I realized that women have it rough. They are born into this battle. Men are born into battles too but I don't think we have one that rages on 24 hours a day and consumes every waking hour. With this thought, I was then compelled to act.

I would like to extend the olive branch and open peace talks between the women. We should try to reach for total cosmetic disarmament between all women. I know this is a difficult task, but I think we can achieve it. For the betterment of all mankind, there should be peace. It can be done, we only have to believe.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

The Race Is Over, And You Lost

2006-02-08T19:37:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

Alright, so you're out there driving. You are on an access road and are trying to get onto the freeway. So you take your exit, and you get ready to merge.

But as you approach the freeway, every other car starts to speed up and won't allow you to pass. As soon as one passes, another one speeds up. They refuse to allow you in front of them.

And now you're running out of merge lane. The cars continue to race ahead. Fear grips you. There's no way out. A crash is eminent. What do you do?

Pop Quiz Hotshot

To me, this scenario is a product of a disorder. We'll call this disorder "Stuck In Race Mode". People with SIRM are engaged in a race everyday they drive. They are not going to allow someone else in front of them because then they would be "losing". If they get in front of you, then they are "winning" and have "beaten" you. But where are they racing to?

See, being in a race means that there is a starting point and an ending point. But victims of SIRM fail to realize that they started somewhere completely different, and are going to finish somewhere different too. You can't beat 100 people to your office if they aren't even going to your office in the first place. So this really isn't a race. In fact, I'll bet someone else started from where your house is and was headed to where your office is and got there before you did...several years ago...in a horse-drawn buggy!

How does that taste? You just got beaten by a horse-drawn buggy.

There Is A Bomb On This Post

Look, I know it feels like a race out there. There are cars, it's fast, and there are people in front and behind you. But just remember: there is no "front" of traffic. There will always be someone in "front" of you. Quit trying to "beat" everyone. It's meaningless. You will NOT be getting a trophy.

But if it makes you feel better, there will always be someone behind you too. So, you "win", okay? You're awesome. You're number one, or whatever. I hope you're happy.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Hanging Up My Phaser

2006-01-27T17:21:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

Tomorrow I end my tenure as a marshal at Lazercade. And I am sad. I will miss it.

Working as a marshal was, and is, fun. And the reason lies within the business itself, or maybe in my perception of the business itself. I'll explain.

Everything Always Goes Back To Something Else

In my theatre studies I learned one constant truth: your audience wants you to succeed. In the same sense, when working at an arcade, your customers want to have fun. It would take a lot of hard work to mess that up.

So after a few nights I caught on to something. "If I'm having fun," I realized, "Then they have fun." And sure enough, it works. If my group and I were waiting for a game to start, I would start singing. If there was a good song on in the arena, I'd start dancing. During the explain the rules portion, I'd try and crack jokes. I didn't mind trying to embarrass myself, because it was for them. But it wasn't all candy and sunshine, let me tell you.

I took all of this very seriously. The way I see it, my job wasn't to explain rules, flip on a switch, and then stop kids from beating each other up. No, my job was to entertain. My job was to make sure that every person in my game had a good time. If they did, they would come back and spend more money. See, having a good time is still hard work. But it is also fun work. If that makes sense.

Yes. Yes It Does Make Sense

So why am I quitting? Well, it's for purely selfish reasons, I assure you. The main, easiest answer that I can give you is that I want my weekends back. I already have a job during the week. So after a year of working on the weekends, and during the week, and now fitting Grad-School in there as well...I just want some time back for other pursuits. Like blogging.

Contrary to what my last posts may have feared, the new owners are pretty cool bosses. I'd be a fool to say that the changing management hasn't sped up my departure, but certainty isn't the main reason that I'm quitting. I had been thinking about leaving before the place ever went up for sale. But now that things are changing at The 'Cade, it seems like a good time to move on.

People And Museums...The similarities Are Endless

Leaving anything makes me instantly nostalgic. Yes, nostalgic for something that ends tomorrow.

Now that my experience has ended, I can look at it as a completed work. Like when a musician dies; you are able to judge a body of work and you can place that work in a context that is no longer changing because it is in the past. i.e. What events took place during their life, how things led to other things, and et cetera all can be looked at objectively. While they are alive, their music seems open ended because they can make more. But after they die, you can really start looking for how everything fits together.

The same is with life, I suppose. I look back on things like jobs and school terms as an archeologist. I can hold artifacts up and point to their significance in the culture of me. Events that seemed so small (conversations and jokes), now look bigger after time. And things that seemed so important at the time (old wars and fights), now seem trivial.

So I piece together clues of what exactly happened, to see if this past civilization can help the current one. Can any lessons be learned? What can my history teach myself? I must keep digging for the truth.

But this is all academic. The facts are that here in the present, I am going to bid adieu to my career at Lazercade. But still, even now, I wonder how historians will look at this period in my life.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

In Ethics Class...I Dominate

2006-01-25T06:42:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

I just read my last post, the one on change.

And you know what, it is completely off-base. There is absolutely no way that anyone can separate emotion from decision making. It would be completely naive of me to suggest otherwise.

But I still think there is some validity in the spirit of my post. These revelations happened during my ethics class while we were discussing...ethics.

The question was asked, "Are there 'situational ethics'?"

I said yes.

To quote me, I said, "Are there 'situational ethics'? Yes. This is because there isn't a manual for life. There is no 'If A happens, then B is the right response and C is the wrong response all of the time.' This doesn't happen.

"The fear of the person that says there ARE absolute ethics, is that in a reality where situational ethics exist, there can be no absolute right and wrong. I disagree. I believe that absolute right and wrong exist, and they exist absolutely. What changes, is which response is right and what response is wrong within a situation. In each situation, there exists an absolute right response and an absolute wrong response."

A few other choice revelations.

"Whenever someone begins to talk about ethics, they talk about action. No one ever discusses if unethical thinking exists. Only unethical action."

"Speeding is always brought up when discussing ethics. Speeding is ground zero for ethical inquiry."

Going back to situational ethics. I believe that situational ethics have a biblical back as well. Consider Jesus and healing the blind man on a Sabbath. He broke a law, but he did something good/right. The same can be applied to...Speeding. The classic is that is you are rushing to save your friend from a gunshot wound, then it's O.K. to break the law.

Some would counter that the spirit of the speed limit is that you should not drive recklessly. Ergo, you aren't REALLY breaking the law (Thank you Robyn). But to me, this is semantics. The question still remains, "Is speeding unethical?" And the answer is, sometimes yes and sometimes no. It depends on the situation. We can only know if it was right or wrong in retrospect.

In this way, we can say that ethics are values in action. If you do something with the intent to make yourself feel good while causing someone else to feel bad, then to are unethical. But if you are trying to minimize pain and create compassion, then you are ethical. Ethics, then, are about intent.

So once again, change is going to happen, the potential rightness or wrongness of the change is unknown. But right and wrong still exist, and they exist absolutely.

See, nice little bow on the end.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Change...Proceed With Caution (Part II)

2006-01-23T19:20:00.000-08:00

continued from previous post

Going Macro On This Piece

Now we take this dynamic to a national scale. In specific terms the common "liberal" versus "conservative" fight. This fight is taking place right now on some internet site, or in an office, or on a cell phone, basically everywhere. And the fight they are having is the same one that happened yesterday and is the same one that will happen tomorrow. What the combatants can't do, is separate their personal feelings from the fight long enough to see what is really being argued about.

Let's go to a recent headline, the supreme court ruling on the Oregon "right-to-die" law. The Supreme Court sided with Oregon and allowed Oregon doctors to continue writing prescriptions that resulted in a terminally ill patient's death.

I'm going to discuss the problems of extreme people on both sides of the issue and use sweeping stereotypes. Just remember that these are stereotypes that I wish to eliminate, not solidify.

On the "liberal" side, you have people who are just happy that someone in the Bush Administration, John Ashcroft, lost. On the other side, you have those that wish to turn this not an opportunity to remove a law that they don't agree with on the basis of personal faith (suicide is a sin).

Both people have allowed themselves to enter the argument with an axe to grind. And everyone can smell it coming. But here's the thing, you can no longer sneak your agenda in. It's already assumed that you have one and you are going to try and sneak it in. In fact, the only thing that people are interested in anymore is finding out what agenda you are guilty of.

So this type of arguing is pointless. No one on the other side is going to listen to political arguments from someone that is solely focused on blaming Bush, Christians, and America for all of the world's problems. All they are going to hear is that you are trying to insult them for believing in God.

Similarly, no one on the other side is going to listen to arguments that are solely based on faith in Jesus. All they are going to hear is someone telling them that their lifestyle is wrong and that they are in danger of hell.

So what's my point? We should stop arguing like this.

Now That This Post Has Become Political, I Assume I Have A Lot Fewer Friends

What we need to do is remove the prejudices of this religious jihad that is happening under every political argument. Let's have the religious discussion in the open. When we try to sneak it in, it turns the conversation into something sinister. Moreover, when we try to sneak these feelings into what we say or how we write laws, it means that we aren't doing it in the open. And if you aren't dong something in the open, then that means you know you're doing something wrong.

Here's a story.

A high-school teacher was telling a story in a class that I was in recently. She was talking about the Chronicles of Narnia books. The main feature of her story was that if she were asked about the Christ imagery by one of her students, that she would sneak in that "some" people believe that it can be read in "this way". She went on to say that "they" can't do anything if you "do it" that way. To her, this was her opportunity to minister. So long as she didn't mention that it was her personal way of thinking, then she could say what ever sh wanted.

To me, this is not an opportunity to minister. It's trying to trick this kid into believing in Christ.

If you want to have a frank discussion, then meet outside of school. It really bothers me when teachers use this kind of language. As if Christian teachers are part of a secret society and everyday, they are sneaking Christ into their lesson plans. I just don't think that that is the way to go about it. Why try and hide it?

Again, if you have to hide it, doesn't that mean you think it's wrong?

Wrap It Up, We Have To Go To Commercial

Let's move onto the speed of change and back to the question of if change can be right or wrong. When it comes time to change something, such as a law, how can we know if it is going to be a good change or a bad change? Conservatives would say that change should happen organically, i.e. slowly. Liberals think that change should happen quickly, i.e. revolutionary. There can be tremendous good from change: civil rights, suffrage, and the like. But change can also be bad: Nazis, communist Russia, et cetera. We can only know for sure if a change was bad in retrospect. All we can do is look at the level of discomfort that the change will cause and weight it against the amount of alleviation it will cause and hope for the best.

I guess what I want to say is that change is going to happen. But it's not something we should embrace or stifle on its face. Rather we should look around, weigh out the merits of each case and do it with a little compassion and knowledge that losing the debate is alright.

And we should try our level best to remove our personal feelings about the issue and try and think of the greater good. If you want make decisions based on faith, do it in the open. If you want to make decisions based on your distrust of religion, do that in the open too. Just quit sneaking around about it.

Why does writing make me so angry?

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Change...Proceed With Caution

2006-01-20T17:12:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

"The only constant is change"

There are a lot of changes happening this year. So I guess this year is going to be constant.

Situation 1: Lazercade

First, the owners of Lazercade have decided to sell the business. This means that I will probably not like the new owners because I am comfortable with the current ones. Here's why.

When they first opened, I was there every weekend working. I built up a level of performance that the owners appreciated. So now I live in the aftermath of those times. I can continue to perform at the high level that I always have, but I don't necessarily have to come in every day to prove it. I've already proven it. This works out well for me because I am getting my Master's degree and can no longer work all of those hours that I once did.

But the new owners will have no preconceptions about what each employee can do. All of us are starting fresh. Which is good if you have a record of poor performance, but bad for me because I have a record of good performance.

Unfortunately, as I stated before, I don't have the ability to work all of the hours that I once did. I am in the middle of my Master's work. This is coupled with the fact that I will probably move away when I graduate (I say probably because I refuse to say anything definite about the future due to my faith in God and my faith that God has a sense of humor about things like "certainty".) All these things add up to me not having the political weight that I may have carried in the past.

"Why listen to this guy," the new owners might say, "He's hardly here and he's leaving in three months."

This will then allow some other person in as the main "go-to" person and person will turn out to be an idiot and they will in turn screw everything up. I say screw everything up, but what I really mean is change things from the way that they are currently and make me uncomfortable.

Situation 2: Harding

Now let's talk about my other job. Of course, I have to be a little secretive about what I'm talking about, so bear with me.

There is this idea that I have, we'll call it Project Totally Rock-Awesome (PTRA). PTRA is an idea that I've had for a while, but I could not seem to get the right combination of supervisor and extenuating circumstances to get it through, until now.

PTRA, however, means that some other departments have to come out of their comfort-zones. This may mean that PTRA may not be implemented, but it should. It would help so many thing in my department and would eventually help everyone once the change has been excepted.

So now we reach an epiphany. In both situations, change is going to happen. And for one party, there will be discomfort and for another, and alleviation of some discomfort. For Lazercade, the owners are selling the business in order to spend more time with their other jobs and family. The discomfort will be felt by the current employees and the new owners and maybe even Lazercade's customers. At Harding, the discomfort will be felt by other departments, but I will experience the alleviation.

So when change occurs, it is not bad or good in of itself, but can be perceived to be good or bad by those affected by it. In this case, I perceive the Lazercade change to be bad and the Harding one to be good. But these distinctions are completely selfish. But can change be either good or bad by itself?

I feel as though it cannot, at least it cannot be judged that way before it happens. Take artificial intelligence. If we develop it and we don't have machines revolting and taking over the world, then that change would have been good. But if robots rebel against us and we lose control of the world, we may look back and say we were better off not developing AI.

continued...

Blog Proliferation

2006-01-18T19:53:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

There are rules to making a blog. One of them is to write. But ho much do you have to write to "be a blog".

I guess just one entry will do. Sign up on blogger, make a post, BOOM, you're a blogger. But I think there is an unspoken understanding that you have to post a lot before you are a "good" blogger. You know what, I may be catching everyone off-guard here, let me tell you the impetus behind this entry.

I Really Do Read Those Blogs On The Right

My friend Trey recently wrote in his blog that he felt as though his tenure as a blogger was coming to an end. Here's the quote:

"I'm thinking that this blog thing is about over. My counter has slowed down. And people don't leave as many comments as they used to. Other blogers (sic) post less often than they used to. Some people's posts I hardly read because they are so dull I feel my brain locking up. I just scan for my name then move on. Is this the end of our blog ring?"

Laminack, T. (2006). Freedom... yeeeeeaaaah! Trey's Bloglicious Blog.

I think his quote captures what every blogger feels. They want to write something, and they want people to read it. Then they want people to post that they like it. Well, Trey doesn't say anything about wanting to be liked, but I am.

Then he goes on to describe something that I feel. Most blogs are lame. If you hit the next blog button on the top right hand corner of this page, you will be whisked away to a random blog on Blogger. This blog will probably be Bush-hating political flame, a long boring diary with endless meaningless details about the blogger's daily routine, pornography, or something in a language that you don't know.

The sites will alternate between these things until you unearth something out-of-the-ordinary. You will read it, but will most likely be disappointed because the person hasn't posted in over three months, or there will be something that doesn't strike a chord with you (In that it will be different and interesting and cool, but not quite suited to your particular tastes. Like appreciating art that you wouldn't buy and put in your house.)

The Good, The Bad, and The Really Bad Diary Blogs That I HATE...Ugly

But there is hope. Because you see Trey has a good blog and Trey is a good blogger. And after considering his post I think Trey is experiencing something that I am experiencing. I feel that my blogging is good, so I take it seriously. So seriously, that if I don't blog often, then I am failing. I treat the blog as if I have a column with deadlines. This taking it seriously, is what makes the blog good.

The reason that the "diary" blogs, which compose about 130% of all blogs, are so lame, is that the authors aren't taking the blog seriously. They just show up, post their current to do list, tell us how much they really need to buckle down and blog more, and then hit submit. These posts happen about every month or so until the person completely forgets that they even had a blog to begin with. Needless to say, I hate these type of blogs.

So now we come back to Trey. He has been posting at least once, more often three times a week for over eight months (This stat comes from the top of my head, so you don't try and correct me in the post section. Consider this artistic interp.). I have been reading them regularly for some time and I really enjoy them. Usually they are earnest and funny and always encourage the reader to build a community in their life.

But Trey is probably tired from all of the writing. And he is frustrated by the lack of discipline and skill in the bloggers that he reads. In the face of these problems, he has considered giving up the whole thing and use his time to do something else. Presumably, something more constructive.

But I would say no to this course of action. I say, keep writing. Why give up something that you are good at?

Again I Ask, Why?

If I could get all of the disciplined, good bloggers in a room together, I would tell them all one thing. Unless you are making money for new content, it's O.K. to miss a week here or there. One week, or even two weeks missed dose not a poor blogger make. Blogging is not what you do for a living. You have work to go to, people to interact with, and other interests to attend to.

Look at the humble model airplane builder. If a model airplane hobbyist takes a two month break from making a model airplane, no one would suspect him of slacking in his duty as a hobbyist. So why not apply the same latitude to ourselves?

I say take a week off. I say go do other stuff. Blogging can wait. You can always pick it back up after a refreshing hiatus.

And remember, being prolific doesn't mean that everything you write will be a good post.

But to the majority, undisciplined rabble, remember that it does help.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Vacation Over

2006-01-04T19:47:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

You may be wondering where I've been. You may have been wondering where the new posts are. Well I was on vacation. And It was pretty cool.

And They're Off!

It started with the packing. This is a major fight starter in my household. My wife likes to consider the packing and plan for it before she packs. This means that the packing happens much closer to our departure time. I on the other hand prefer action to contemplation when it comes to packing and my packing happens way ahead of schedule.

Now the wife does a better job of the actual packing. The clothes are all nicely folded and all available space is utilized. But as I mentioned before, the packing happens close to departure time. This creates the possibility of missing the departure time and removes the possibility of "making good time".

As most of you know, the point of a vacation is not to relax, visit with family, or to "see the sites". The point of any vacation is to make good time. So while my wife is trying to maximize the other three "goals", I am trying to complete the main objective, i.e. make good time.

These two opposing furies battle each time we go on vacation, or head home from vacation. And the sparks fly. But the sparks always die out and we head out on our vacation. The first stop, the in-laws.

Hardcore Relaxin'

We arrived in Needville (southwest of Houston) at an unmentionable hour. It is unmentionable not because of the earliness of it, but because when I looked at a clock to see what time it was, all of the numbers began to run together and spell out the words "doomed underwater fashion". So I decided to stop looking at clocks when we were just outside of Houston.

After we got up, we were greeted with breakfast. Normally, I skip breakfast, so when I eat it, I know I'm on vacation. We had breakfast all the time while at the in-laws. And let me tell you, breakfast rocks.

There was church to attend, presents to open, and fun was had by all. We participated in all of the classic Christmas fare. The non-traditional but still rock-awesome parts of the trip were playing Acquire, seeing The Chronicles of Narnia, playing Lazer-Tag, watching Jeremiah Johnson, and making an experimental art film with my father-in-law. After all of that I had a fight about how to pack luggage with my wife and we were off to my family's place.

Round Two

We got into Fort Worth at about eight and a half in the nighttime. All of me younger siblings were there. Because we arrived after Christmas, there wasn't much classic holiday action. But here's the rock-awesome list for the back nine of the vacation:

Beating Red Dead Revolver on the X-box, playing Crash Bandicoot with the childrens, catching one of my sister's basketball games, watching my sister post up some mad "D", watching my sister come down hard on her foot, being concerned about her foot, the concern about her foot giving way to nick-naming her "Crutches", watching the Cowboys' playoff hopes vanish, smoking a turkey with my brother, and a Western themed New Year's Eve celebration in ficticious "Dryland, TX". After all of that, all we had left was one more fight about packing and we were on our way.

We ate some awesome stuff on our trip besides just breakfast. On the homemade front, we had some killer burgers, sausages, & chicken off the grill. We had enchiladas, gigantor tubs of snacks, several helpings of my rock-awesome chili, German chocolate cake, and one smoked turkey. One the dine-out menu, we supped at the Barbecue Inn, Flying Saucer Pies, Whataburger, Jack-In-The-Box, Bennigan's, and Ruby Tuesday. I think as you get older, what you eat is important to include in a vacation's description.

So that's my vacation. Read it an' weep.

Oh, I also invented a new slang term: Rock-Awesome! And don't go trying to tell me you've heard it before, because I invented it! Comprende?

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Don't You Forget About Me

2005-12-23T16:14:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

You may have read my post about "Sick Days". I've thought of another universe that exists like that. Lock-Ins.

Does Barry Manilow Know You Raid His Waredrobe?

For the uninitiated, Lock-Ins are when a group has a "sleep-over" at a school, or church, or other building. It's called a "Lock-In" because the participants are "locked-in" and cannot leave the facility. Although this is rarely a strict rule, it is in the spirit of a Lock-In that you stay at the facility for the entire night and leave only when the sun comes up.

While at the Lock-In, you play games, talk with friends, et cetera. Sometimes there are movies to watch and there are probably BIG games that a whole lot of people play at the beginning of the night. As the night wears on, the events become less structured and disintegrate into bleary-eyed chaos.

Most of the time the group is made up of children. I have never heard of an adult Lock-In, but I am not ruling it out.

So, now you have an unnecessarily detailed description of a Lock-In. I Hope you enjoyed it.

Impossible Sir, It's In Johnson's Shorts

The main goal of the Lock-Ins that I have been to, is to beat the night. You want to stay up the whole time and sleep during the next day. As I got older, I ate coffee or did other such measures in order to keep awake. And once you made it, you and the others that had not fallen were victorious.

And you did not accomplish this feat alone. No, you became allies with the others. These allies didn't shake you awake as you fell asleep. The allies were simply there to help spurn you on by letting you know that you were a part of something, a greater good. You were all going to revel in the triumph of winning against the night. You didn't want to let the others down so you kept concentrating on staying up.

Indeed, if you were the only one to make it, the feat rang hollow. But these comrades are only temporary. And this is why Lock-Ins are their own universe.

Face It, You're A Neo-Maxi Zoom Dweebie

Because the Lock-In is only attended by a portion of a larger societal whole, the normal social rules don't apply. If you hang out with the nerd of the school, no one is going to know. If you start talking to a lunchroom political rival, even a hated enemy of your own clique, it's O.K. After all, you just need someone to help you kill of tonight.

And as you and your temporary friends greet the sunrise, you can feel the friendship ebb. And as you high five and congratulate each other on a marvelous triumph, you feel sad that it won't be the same when you see each other in the real universe.

It's just like when the Decepticons and Autobots had to work together to cure the Hate Plague but during the very next episode, the Decepticons try to destroy Autobot city in order to gain access to the plasma chamber on Cybertron.

Yup, Lock-Ins are exactly like that.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

I'm The Right Of Way

2005-12-21T16:44:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

Why can't everyone stop being nice?

What do I mean? Well, I'll tell you. Just chill out!

Gentlemen Start Your Engines

I'm driving down the road. I come to stop sign. Across the street, at another stop sign, a second car pulls up and stops. We come to a complete rest simultaneously. We face each other. The second car wants to turn left and turns on his signal blinker. I want to go straight.

We look at each other.

He decides to act first. But he takes a defensive tact. He waves me over, giving me permission to cross the street. Ah, but there's a wrinkle in his plan. A third car is barreling down the road, poised to drive between us. The third car has no stop sign to contend with.

The second car continues to wave me over. This time angrily.

Rubbing Is Racing

Now, why is he doing this? Why is he becoming frustrated at ME. And I know what he's thinking. He thinks I'm some sort of idiot that can't follow instructions. See the real problem is that he should just go ahead and turn and quit worrying about me.

But he's still waving like a lunatic. I begin shaking my head. His anger is wasted as is his waving. What is going on in that overworked mind of his, I wonder?

One thought he may be having is that there is plenty of time for me to make it across. In which case he is forcing his driving philosophies onto me. What he should do is just go ahead and turn and let me wait. Then we would both get what we want.

But perhaps deep down he knows that there isn't enough room. So now he's going to have to wait for the third car, and then we'll have to have a few seconds of stand off before one of us goes. This will cause him to wait and then he'll become even more frustrated.

Or he could realize that there is no chance for me to cross, so he feigns intense anger in order to not look stupid. But he does. Oh boy does he.

Pole Position

Because the second car is trying to be courteous, he isn't doing what he wants to do, which is get to his destination sooner. He assumes a second time that I want to get to my destination as soon as possible just like him. So he volunteers himself as a sacrifice so that I can go while he waits. Now he's frustrated that neither of us is going. He's been thwarted on two fronts.

There is another possibility. He may not even see the third car. Here, we might let #2 off the hook because he is operating in ignorance. He got frustrated, then realizes that there is third car, and now he waits patiently. But for me there is still a sticking point.

#2 still isn't interested in helping me out. If he did, he'd check for himself to see if there are any cars coming before waving at me to come forward. But he didn't. He just wants me to move because he's going to try and wrestle the title of "kindest driver at this specific moment in time" away from me.

He isn't sacrificing, he's forcing his desires onto me. And rather than assume that there is a good reason that I am not driving across the intersection, he assumes that I am a moron that cannot see that he is letting me go. I dare to defy his graciousness on the grounds that I am too dumb or too proud to accept and that makes him furious. He has wasted a kind deed on me.

How gracious indeed.

Checkered Flag

In essence, rather than do what the #2 car wanted to do, he decided to concede to what he has been conditioned to do. He thinks he's supposed to give the right of way to the other driver, and so he does. When the plan backfires, the preconditioned area of his brain becomes angry because he didn't complete the mission, his actual self is angry because he has suppressed what he wanted to do, and he is angry with me because I caused this inner tension. Ultimately, he is disgusted with himself and all of humanity.

So when you pull up to a stop sign, and you see me across the street, don't try and tell me what to do. You just take care of you and I'll take care of me. If you want to go, then go. If you don't you'll be filled with hate at all of mankind.

See how much you can screw up if you mess with me? Consequences man, consequences.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Hark The Herald Registers Ring

2005-12-19T16:02:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

Here's a universal truth for ya': Christmas gifts are a tricky thing.

First off, you gotta do them in secret. All gift identities must remain hidden until the moment they are opened. So that means that you have to invent all sorts of safeguards to protect the gift from being discovered. You have to hide the gift, you have to buy it from an out-of-the-way store or online, and et cetera. But to complicate matters, this desire is pitted against another requirement...

Christmas gifts must be liked by the recipient.

How do you accomplish this? Well, you have to be sly. You can't just say, "So, what do I get you?" Why? Because then you'd be breaking the first rule. The recipient would know what you are getting them.

So you have to be crafty and employ a little bit of espionage. You have to open with, "Hey, I really like that new CD by [Current Emo Band]. Thinking about purchasing said CD. What about you?"

But this is very easy to detect, especially near Christmas time. So what you have to do, is build a database of people that you are going to buy presents for a year in advance. Then you have to constantly update this information in order to keep a good variety of Christmas options. What if you lose your job before the holidays and money is tight? What if someone really wanted a particular doll, but you come to find out they use animals during product testing? You have to be vigilant I say, vigilant!

So buying Christmas gifts is a lot like being in the CIA. You have a file on everyone you know, it's all in secret, and if you are discovered, you will be tortured. It's exactly like the CIA.

Black Friday? Try Black EVERYDAY

This Wanted versus Secret dynamic is a clever foe. It goes right to the core of the gift purchase itself. I'll explain. Gifts come in two varieties: necessities and frivolities. Both can generate the "hoo-ray" effect that you are attempting to create, but each has a strategy to buying them.

For necessities, you need only to look around at the recipient's life. Are they moving to a new house? Do they have a kid? Do they have a new job? Did they recently lose/break an item that needs replacing? These can be easier to detect as they are tied directly to a need that the recipient has. But, getting a mower may not be something that the person jumps up and down for. Plus, if the recipient knows that they need something, how can they be surprised?

So maybe to want to try a frivolity. These are riskier. Because the person doesn't need the gift, the gift has to be in line with the tastes of the recipient. You really have to know your stuff on this one. If you buy a CD of a band that the recipient doesn't really like, then you have effectively bought nothing for the recipient and worse, you have revealed that you do not understand his/her tastes. Well done. You are a terrible friend.

So be careful out there shoppers. Tis the season...to blow it.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Poem Corner

2005-12-14T19:38:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

In a second floor apartment there once lived a guy,
Who dreamed of islands and spiders in the sky
Watching the world from his window unfold in his eyes
And he hated all its walkers and all of their lies

At times he would scream "Why can't they take flight?
"Dare they make rules about spiders? What gives them the right?"
He falls to his chair, panting, cooling his jets
They cannot hear him but sometimes he forgets

For you see he was a young man, brave with fleet foot
And was quick to enter when a brawl was afoot
All of this was before the money arrived
Before our hero was lucky, he barley survived

For the young man was too bold and his temper too hot
Rage festered within him and his conscience was rot
A drunkard, a carouser, and man of ill sorts
Life was a game and he was a poor sport

He might of turned away from this life of repute
Until came the thief in a hat and grey suit
He bid wealth in exchange for the young man's skills
There was a fortune to be made if he could deliver the kills

Soon faces ran together and all became one
His guilt was a knot and then it untied into none
He fired his life out through death in a gun
Lips went to say stop but they became numb

But one bullet spoke out, spelled stop in blood wine
Young men become old when they sever their spine
Now he's a shell, wrath fused to a chair
Despising all the world from his tomb up the stairs

No longer he walks, his thoughts are his lies
Save for his dreams of islands and spidery skies

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Hyperbolic Dilemma

2005-12-12T11:22:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

I hate people to death. I hate when they always use the hyperbole like a million times. I makes me want to literally kill someone and then burn the body and then stomp on the burnt up ashes. I will blow up a building full of children the next time I hear someone exaggerate something for emphasis.

I believe we, as a nation, have plumbed the depth of comedic exaggeration. Saying the words "it makes me feel like" and then adding some horrific scene has become trite.

It's as if we have diluted the strength of the original formula. Sure back when it was first used it was funny. But I have heard so many disproportionate responses to everyday nuisances that they have lost all meaning.

While we are on the subject of overuse, how about this word: stress.

I'm so stressed. I've been stressed. She's under a lot of stress. Enough with the stress. The term stress has become an excuse, a catch-all for not performing at an optimum. Everyone has a list of things that they are dealing with, so let's just assume that everyone is feeling anxious about those things. Stop telling me that you or someone else is stressed. If you are stressed, then maybe you aren't cut out to handle life. Move somewhere where there is less life to deal with.

Toughen up!

Another word that I would rather not hear is denigrate. Who made this fashionable? It's an unnecessary word. It's a gaudy vocabulary flourish. Instead of "I don't mean to denigrate you" just say "I don't mean to insult you".

Anyway, that's what's been bothering me.

I feel like Andy Rooney.

My tagline had never been as necessary as it has today.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Just Another Day At The House

2005-12-09T16:30:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

The warrior clad in shadows, quietly lays in the bottom of the valley. He tiredly stretches and yawns, worn from a hard day of training. He paces and curls himself together, prepared to sleep. The work of the day begins to ebb and gives way to a deserved rest from the troubles of the world. But as his eyes begin to droop he sense something amiss...

Atop the cliff, the warrior robed in ash readies himself. He crouches low, hiding himself from view. Secretly, he plots a surprise attack against his foe. Energy begins to rise from his feet, up his legs. It burns its way up to his body, his arms, and head. His muscles lock, then release to allow his legs to shuffle and find the correct position. As if struck by lighting, he springs into the air!

In the air his arms extend out, preparing to meet his enemy. His legs push out, hastening his descent down the face of the rocky cliff. Is mind focuses until it becomes a blade intent on slicing his victim. As his eyes narrow, he readies himself for the impact with the opponent's neck.

The shaded warrior whips his head around, realizes his nemesis his almost upon him. In the second that he has he jumps to meet the grey fighter in the sky. Alas, the smoky fighter was too quick, his game too well played. The black soldier attempt to correct his path in mid-air. Pulling his lower half back down to earth in order to dodge the deadly blow, he flips underneath the passing missile of iron.

Both gladiators land on there feet and flourish around to meet their rival. Both fly at each other, determined to be the victor. Arms flail at each other. Each punch is met with a corresponding block. Both equally matched and unwilling to concede. The combatants step back, ending the skirmish. Unable to find an obvious weakness, they consider other tactics.

But the drab attacker knows that the battle will not be won today. He ceremoniously bows and then speeds away in a cloud of lead. The sooty champion once again circles and lays down to dream. Perhaps his vacation from the brawling would come easily this time. Already the quarrels of life were fading.

After all, my cats lead hard lives.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

TFCTLS. IJ&IBYSTM. Part II

2005-12-06T16:59:00.000-08:00

...continued from previous

Reality Communion

All kidding aside, you have to keep a sharp and clear mind the whole time. I'll give you some examples of clear and sharp thinking during communion.

I arrived early before service to get my lane assignment from "Mr. Fixer". Every congregation has a Mr. Fixer. Without Mr. Fixer, the doors to the church building would be locked, the lights would be off, the heater/AC wouldn't be turned on, and the communion trays wouldn't be filled. More people would notice if Mr. Fixer was sick than if the preacher was sick.

So anyway, I start looking for Mr. Fixer and he tells me that I have the far left lane, against the brick. "Sweet," I think to myself. This is the prime position. You don't have anyone right next to your hindquarters, there's no chance of bumping another server (decreasing the chance of a drop), and if there is a mistake, there is less opportunity that the entire congregation will see your face.

So I head up to the front pew to join my crew only to find that some dude is sitting in the far left spot on the pew. I knew right then that I was in for trouble. The guy ends up taking the far left spot on around the table during the prayer, and then he takes his bread tray and RUNS over to the far left lane.

The dude snaked the choice lane from me!

Hey, I kept it cool. I finished the service in a different lane. But I almost wanted to tell the dude, "HEY! Mr. Fixer gave me this lane buddy! MR. FIXER! You dare to defy the wishes of Mr. Fixer? How can you sleep at night?"

Another time, I got to the end of my section, and we had run out of juice cups. This may the second most horrifying thing that could happen, with the first most horrifying being that thing that we talked about before. *knock knock* I was able to get the few juice cup that were on my partner's tray and mine get the final rows some juice. It was a thing of beauty.

Half Empty Vs. Half Full

But all of that is prologue. Here's the most important thing that a server needs to watch for: half rows. It seems as though members of the Lord's body need their space and don't like to occupy the middles of church pews. These rows are called half rows and must be checked and remembered.

When you start at the end of a half row and hand it off, you can't just run off to the catch the trays coming from your partner. No, you have to keep an eye to see if they pass it back to you, effectively vomiting the tray back into the aisle.

This problem only happens during the bread and fruit portions. During the collection period, they'll be flinging that plate like a Frisbee to get it away from them. I mean they will shout, seriously shout, at the members on the other end to get up and come take the tray. It's like the collection plate is on fire or made of viper fangs or something.

The problem is compounded if your partner errs with one of two extremes. First, he may jump the gun and force the issue by handing a tray off on the other end. This means that a tray collision is in the works and both trays will be "vomited". The best thing to do is wait and see if the people in your row are going to cross the canyon of empty pew on their own rather than assume the worst. In essence, don't rush.

Or worse, he may ignore his end entirely by assuming that the people on your end will cross the canyon. This means that the people on his end will not have a communion and they will not get any "communion stickers" that can be saved up and redeemed at any area church for an extra pass through the next potluck line. That is unless you get them juice and cracker before the sermon starts. In order to save these poor people the embarassment of missing out on their stickers, you are allowed to walk around during a prayer. This is the only reason that allows you to walk during a prayer that is within earshot.

And you must hurry. Because if they don't get the whole thing down before the end of the "transition song" and the announcement of the invitation song begins, then those stickers will be gone.

It is serious business this communion. But even if someone's potluck points are at stake, you must remain vigilant to the rules of the server. Because under no circumstances, even if someone is about to die and you have the only known antidote in your pocket, if you are holding a communion tray, for goodness sakes, DON'T DROP THE TRAY!

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Thanks For Choosing The Last Supper. I'm James & I'll Be Your Server This Morning.

2005-12-02T04:47:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

Do you attend church? Let's at least pretend that you do. And while we're pretending, let's say you attend a Evangelical Christian church and you are familiar with communion. And if you are a man, let's say you are familiar with communion duty.

Now that you undertsand the subject matter for today's post, let's get on with it.

It's The Little Things

I hate communion duty. I would rather lead one-thousand prayers than serve communion once. There are way too many things that can go wrong. From handing the trays to your fellow servers right after the prayer, to handing it to each parishioner, to walking the aisles. There are like one-million opportunities to drop the tray. And you have to go through it twice or three times if you hold the offering directly after.

Why so much pressure? Well, do you know how many times the tray has been dropped? I think it's like twice in the entire history mankind. It never happens. Imagine being the guy that breaks the streak. You'd never hear the end of it.

So after having gone into battle myself, let me give you some tips on how to not blow it.

Doing It And Doing It And Doing It Well

First you need the right gear.

If you are going in front of a small congregation, say only a handful of members, then you may not have to dress too nicely. Casual-formal may be alright. But if you are playing for a big audience, then formal-casual may be more appropriate. Formal-formal may be too formal and dressed-to-the-nines is out of the question. Unless it's one of "those" churches, then you may want to consider a tux. Going in the other direction to casual-casual is no good either. You don't want to appear irreverent. And dragged-out-of-bed is absolutely unacceptable. Didn't your mom teach you anything?

When it comes to shoes, appearance means nothing. Go for comfort and reliability. You are going to be on your feet a lot so something you can stand in for awhile is good. Especially if your prayer guy tries for the mini-sermon & the long prayer combo. Always a killer.

You also need to be able to cut and move, especially during the offering. Those plates come flying out fast. Essentially you'll be running down the aisles to keep up, cutting and weaving the whole way. Julius has nothing on me.

You will also need a cyanide tablet and wakizashi dagger. This is in case you drop a tray. If a tray does drop on your end of the section, here's what you do:

When the tray hits the ground, everyone will turn to look. You will need to look up from the fallen tray and apologize to anyone that the tray fell on. You will then stand at attention, take the cyanide tablet from your pocket, crunch it up with your fingers, and then place the broken pieces under your tongue. Breaking the tablet up will allow the poison to work more quickly.

Then, look across the congregation, bow ceremonially, kneel with your head lowered and then draw your wakizashi dagger. Plunge the dagger into your abdomen, make a cut to the left, then to the right, and then upward, spilling out your intestines. The other person that is catching trays in your seating section will serve as your kaishakunin, your second. He will draw the katana blade that is stored in the baby crying room and perform the final daki-kubi cut.

I may be overstating the significance of dropping a communion tray, but if you do actually drop a communion tray, you might want to consider ritual suicide. It's better than enduring the other member's cold stares or wry jokes that are sure to follow.

Luckily, I have never had to contend with this occurrence. *knock knock*

...continued

Enough Is Enough

2005-11-30T16:30:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

So give me all your poison
And give me all your pills
And give me all your hopeless hearts
And make me ill
You're running after something that you'll never kill
If this is what you want then fire at will

-My Chemical Romance (2004). Thank You For The Venom. Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge.

How much is enough? Have you ever asked yourself that? What I mean is, how much money is enough?

When you look at your current balance, at what point will you look and say, "Finally. I have enough."

Is it $1,000? $10,000? $100,000?

I have decided that $0 is enough. If I can look down and see no negative sign in front of the number, I'll be happy.

I think that we walk through life saying to ourselves, "When I have enough money, I can do X." (no not the drug). Or we will say, "I just wish I had enough money. Then I'd stop worrying."

So has anyone ever sat down to put a figure on it? No. Why? Because somehow we've bought into the idea that more is not enough. So once we reach a certain point, we look up to see that there is more to be had.

And there is always more to be had.

Once you sit down and put pen to paper and settle the matter of what is enough, you find that you have enough. The desire to get "enough" is just a desire to get more. We realize that we've been chasing a ghost.

When I sit down and write the figure, it's smaller than I think. And then, the desire leaves.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

The Writers In My Head

2005-11-28T16:52:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

Percy: So what would you write about if you had a blog?

Kent: Dude, don't even ask me. I hate those things.

P: Yeah, I know it's a lot easier to sit on the sidelines and hate on stuff, but I'd like a little help here.

K: Fine. Write the first thing that comes to your mind.

P: Radishes. I don't know why, but radishes.

K: What? Radishes?

P: Yeah, I just got a juicer and the recipe book has a recipe that includes radishes. "Good Morning Tonic" I believe.

K: Does a radish have juice? What would that be like?

P: Not sure.

K: What about the juice's color? This potential post raises more questions than it answers.

P: Oh you know what, it isn't radishes in the book, it's beets. Yeah beets.

K: This blog of yours is gonna be lame.

P: I think it will find a rabid following among beet and beet-juice enthusiasts.

K: Well then the readers of your blog are gonna be lame. Think of something else.

P: Hmmm. What if the beets were hallucinogenic?

K: Now we're talking.

P: Yeah, beets crossed with opium plants in a government lab. The post could revolve around a secret "black ops" section of the EPA.

K: Finally the public will care about the EPA. Now just add some pirates with laser guns and you got yourself a blog entry.

P: What do I call it?

K: Something edgy. Something cool.

P: Can't Beet The Pirate Life?

(pause)

K: Blogs are dumb.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Feeling Dizzy on Dizzy Feelings

2005-11-21T16:29:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

You know something, getting old isn't that great.

I went to see the new Harry Potter movie this past weekend. It was good. I went with some friends and we all had a good time.

On the way home we began talking about the past and what we did when we were younger. Eventually the conversation led back to our crushes. Of course the more bizarre the ex the better the story.

My wife told a story of an early beau she had. This particular guy, we'll call him Dirk, had a overactive chivalry section in his brain. He believed that every man should carry a sword and be involved in the medieval act of "courtly love".

After a while, my wife decided to break it off and Dirk did not take it too well. He went home and began smashing things. Later on that year, my wife had to call Dirk in order to talk about student council business (they were both on the student council). Dirk answered the phone, heard my wife's voice, handed the phone to a friend of his and began to smash things with his sword. The friend provided my wife with play-by-play on what he was doing.

I can only imagine the scene...

Dirk answers the phone, "Hello."

My wife, "Hey Dirk, it's me. I wanted to discuss this year's Winter Formal."

"One sec."

"Dirk? Hello?"

"Hello?"

"Yes, hello. Who is this?"

"This is Dirk's friend."

"Where's Dirk?"

"Well...right now he's busy. He's trying to pry his sword out of the wall."

"The wall? What happ..."

"Yeah, he tried to kill the wall with a spinning thrust. So, yeah, you know. Oh wait...right now he's trying to climb the couch and...yeah, he just split the ottoman in half."

"Oh my."

"Yeah. You should probably call back later."

Dude's Got Issues

Needless to say, we laughed at my wife's story. She continued to tell us of the obligatory run-in in the hallway they she and Dirk had. They saw each other, and Dirk pressed into my wife's hand a heart shaped piece of faux jewelry. A symbol of his undying affection and an illusion to a past relationship that Dirk had with another girl.

Hilarious.

Don't we all remember those days? Love, betrayal, loneliness, everything seemed so much more epic. It was like each emotion was potent. It was like we would never trust anyone again after we were wronged. We would never love like this love that was over. We would never be understood by anyone else ever in the world.

Things were a lot more extreme in those days. Why not now?

The Kids Aren't Alright

Maybe because we have jobs. We don't have the time to dwell and explore the full breadth of emotion.

I believe that this may be part of it, but I think it's because those emotions were so new. We didn't know how to use them. We saw adults say that they were in love and we wanted to be "in love" too.

Feelings are like drugs, or better yet wine. When we were young, we kept drinking and drinking until we became drunk. And what a heady brew it was.

Now, we are more responsible. We imbibe and sip. We don't need to keep drinking to get the feeling we want. Just a shot'll do.

And it's a good thing. We should be staggering around, three sheets to the wind on emotions. But still, let's remember our foolish youth, and smile. Let's even have a toast to our fomer selves.

First round's on me.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Listen To Live Or Live To Listen

2005-11-18T06:58:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

Have you heard of this new genre of music? Well, it probably isn't new, but relatively speaking it is. It's called "Hick-Hop". What is Hick-Hop you ask? We'll let me tell you. Essentially it's country with a rapper.

Have you heard about this? It's like the fourth seal of the Apocalypse has been broken. Currently, the big deal is a guy named Cowboy Troy. He works with country acts Big n' Rich and Gretchen Wilson. He' black, wears a cowboy hat, and raps...during country songs.

It's insane.

And the really crazy part is that this isn't the first time rap and country have been thrown together. Click on this link. I'll wait until you come back.

Did you see that? This has been going on since the 80's! And did you read the other crazy names it had? Hick-Hop, Hill-Hop, Hip-Hopry & Country-Hip-Hop. What in the heck is going on here. Am I the only one who realizes that this is crazy?

Does anyone else think hearing the phrase "Hick-Hop" is akin to hearing the phrase "Nazi Synagogue"?

I fell like I'm taking crazy pills!

Behind The Music

I know I'm not the only one that feels that way. But why do I feel that way? I feel as though it's because of the way I think of music.

When someone asks you what type of music you like, they are really asking what type of person you are. Or at least, they are asking why type of person do you want to be associated with.

If someone says jazz, you probably think they are either cultured or pretentious. When someone says country, you probably think that are honest & hardworking or you think they are ignorant. When someone says rap, you may think they tough or stylish or ignorant or violent. Every music has a philosophy behind it.

Let's take country and hip-hop. They have varied cultures. One is urban and one is rural. The median listener age for one is younger and for the other it is older. And to be perfectly honest, one has listeners that are white and one has listeners that are black.

These different groups create different cultures for themselves. In hip-hop, the culture is rooted in street life. The four elements of hip-hop are MC, DJ, Breakdance, and graffiti Art. For country listeners, there is Old West mythology, field & Stream sports, and line dancing. The two ideologies are seemingly on opposite ends of the spectrum.

Mix Tapes Of Affiliations

See I think about music and philosophy and listener. I wonder, which comes first, the philosophy or the music. Would I feel as individualistic if I hadn't listened to punk music? Would I be so concerned with the little hypocrisies that everyone makes each day as a sign of a dark, corrupt world if I had chosen to listen to Tejano? Like in the movie High Fidelity:

"What came first: the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns and watching violent videos. That some sort of culture of violence will take them over. No one worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, pain, rejection, suffering and misery. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable, or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?"

-Gordon, R. (2000). From the Movie High Fidelity. Based on the book High Fidelity by Nick Hornsby.

That part in the movie always resonated with me. Music to me is more about participating in a life philosophy rather than just entertainment. Better stated, there exists cultural rules to each major genre of music, and listeners are aware of those rules when they listened to these particular forms of music.

Depends On What The Chicken And The Egg Listen To?

So I wonder, do we gravitate to these philosophies because it is inevitable and we cannot escape who we are? Or do we choose the music we listen to because we find the genre's philosophy appealing and decide to be a part of that? Maybe the reason is more selfish and we choose to be a part of these culture because we want others to associate us with the values of a particular genre.

I think back to the first time I bought music. It was through one of those clubs that "gives" you ten albums for a penny, then you spend the rest of your life on the run. I remember buying albums that were popular at the time. Ace of Base, Real McCoys, and others. I really liked them. I still like Ace of Base.

No, I am not ashamed of that fact. Ace of Base ROCKS!

But I remember the first time I listened to a They Might Be Giants album. I had gotten the idea to buy it from a friend of mine and an appearance by TMBG on Tiny Toons. When I first head the album, I could stop playing it over and over and over. The same thing happened when I bought my first Green Day album. I listened to it constantly.

These two bands are two of my favorites. I still buy every new release. But after I purchased these albums initially, I began to become aware of a culture beneath. There was a prevailing thought of "integrity", "non-conformity" and other cliche's of punk culture.

I began to learn more about it. I came to understand that Green Day was a controversial figure in this culture. I felt pressure from the culture that I was becoming a part of to choose between the band that I loved and was instrumental in exposing me to the culture, or the rest of the bands that I like as well.

I came to the conclusion that there was flawed thinking in becoming to extreme with punk ideology. I realized that each person has made some form of conceit and become part of the system that they seek to change. Even the most ardent members of the underground are hypocrites.

Essentially, I've chosen Green Day. I've chose to believe that if everyone sells-out, then no one sells-out.

So is Hick-Hop a bad thing? No, not culturally. I like the idea of people removing barriers rather than me or someone else trying to draw the lines.

But does that mean it's good music, or even a good idea? The jury is still out on that.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

On Being The Undisputed Champion

2005-11-16T04:03:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

There has been a culmination of things in my mind. First we have "Chicken Little". Then we have the "World Series of Poker". Lastly, we have Charles Peirce.

What do they all have in common? Simple: Politics.

What In The Heck Are You Talking About?

Often, I hear that America is not long for this world. People decry that America will no longer be the number one super-power in the world. Soon, Washington will be in flames and somehow an entire nation will be wiped from the globe. This is the Chicken Little I was telling you about.

This is all because America is viewed as an empire. Empires typically start, rise, and conquer all the nations around them. Then they become the epicenter of trade, thought, and everything. Finally they become to proud, have a period of infighting, and then are destroyed by enemies. This would work except for one thing: America isn't an empire.

America has become something of an oddity. We practice cultural imperialism. Our Boy Bands can beat up your Boy Bands, DANG IT! Everyone loves "Everyone Loves Raymond". Who hasn't seen Pulp Fiction, or Titanic, or E.T., or Star Trek?

But we aren't forcing the world to buy our products. We in America live our lives and the rest of the world pays to watch. Just because everyone likes it doesn't mean that we are conquerors. It just means that we are good at what we do.

But we are on top. We have the most, we produce the most, we're number one, by golly. Everything is coming up roses here in America. But we aren't the only ones doing what we do. Lots of countries have free-markets and representative governments. What if someone steals the number one spot?

A Peasant Sits On The Throne

At this point, I'd like to go on a tangent and then come back. I was watching the World Series of Poker. For the uninitiated, this is an annual poker tournament held in Las Vegas. It has been going on for some 30 or 40 years. It has grown from a few participants to a player pool of thousands. Anyone can enter. It is this egalitarianism that makes the World Series so enjoyable. A professional, world-class player can win or a nobody can win. This year a nobody won. A nobody from Australia, Joseph Hachem.

Now, in the past, I feel as though most Americans would be upset because a non-American won an American event. But even if that wasn't the feeling in the past, it certainly isn't the feeling here in the present. The same is true in the America's Cup. America held the boating title for 113 years until they lost in 1983...To Australia.

You know, I'm starting to hate Australia.

Freaking imperialists.

I Can't Lose What I Don't Put In The Middle

When we've lost these titles, no one has come out screaming that everything must be done to win because America's pride has been diminished. Rather, we say "good game" and we prepare for the next meeting. It would seem that we lack the hubris for a downfall.

Some would say that I am underestimating the ego of America. But I think those detractors are overestimating the toughness of America. I'll explain this in a round about way.

If we were actually an empire, we'd be out taking over countries. This would be to show how great a nation we are. We'd try everything in our power to control everything to secure that we are number one.

Instead, we've "gone all in" behind one brand of philosophy: pragmatism. Pragmatism is the only truly American philosophy. We invented it. It states that something can only be true if it works over a long period of time for the whole of humankind.

We in America have seen what happens when you run around taking countries over. Just like in Risk, you spread your armies to thin and you are left open to attackers.

If you put the choice to Americans, "would you rather America be in control of all of North America, or would you rather have a new iPod", they'd take the iPod.

This is where the argument of toughness comes in. I believe that Americans would rather have 100 more channels of cable than be a citizen of the most powerful nation in history.

The Redcoats Are Coming! The Red Coats Are Coming!

Right now it is in vogue to be afraid of China. Now, first, let me say that I think China and India emerging into the global economy is good. The free-market economist always will. He'll say competition is beneficial to everyone: customers, companies, government, education, everything.

So China emerging is a good thing. And personally, I think America always operates better when there is someone to play against. First it was Britain, then Germany, then Russia, then Japan, now China. Don't we always win these things?

Sorry, you know me, the egotistical American.

But let's say that we didn't win. Let's say China becomes the number one nation in terms of productivity, GNP, GDP, wealth per citizen, whatever. Does that mean America is suddenly the worst country in the world?

No.

There's no way we are falling past five or six. America will still have DSL internet right? We'll still have 30-screen-multiplexes with stadium seating right? We'll still have McD on every corner right? So what's the big deal.

In a sense, America's identity isn't wrapped up in where we are ranked. Our identity is wrapped up in our "way of life". America cares so little about what happens outside of their town that losing the "title" will hardly affect them. Just give them their distractions and they'll be fine

(That last line may have been a little too cynical, but hey, it's the truth)

I say let China run the world for awhile. Let's see how they like a bunch of Euros griping about everything. I can't wait to have France off our backs. Let's see how China likes getting their buildings blown up. I for one welcome the vacation. Let's put a big banner over the earth that reads: GRAND RE-OPENING! UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT!

They can't do any worse of a job than we have.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

Stars Hollow vs. Basin City

2005-11-14T16:58:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

Do you know the two places in the title of this post? Both are fictional places. Both are involved with recent popular events in entertainment.

Let me see if I can help with Stars Hollow...

"Of course Lorelai didn't tell Luke she was eating dinner with Christopher. Rory was wrong about who called who, but was right to tell Christopher not to call. I wonder what Emily and Richard will have to say about all of this?"

Do you understand that? If so, then you and I have a TV show in common.

The Gilmore Girls.

Yeah, I watch Gilmore Girls.

I'll Be There On The Next Train

My manhood, it seems, is just another tragic casualty incurred during my marriage.

Now I could try and convince you that this show is good, just like my wife tricked, er, convinced me. I could tell you about the awesome, obscure pop-culture references peppered throughout the show. I could tell you about the sly wit. I could tell you how Sebastian Bach from Skid Row has a recurring role. But I know that doesn't matter...

...it's the Gilmore Girls. I should know better.

I expect that a pack of cowboys and ninjas will come to my house any day now and demand that I hand over any tools, duct tape, hole covered socks, and grill equipment that I own. My days as a true man are indeed numbered. I am preparing myself for a life of asking directions, having someone else change my oil, and wearing a coat when it's only 60 outside. Or maybe a giant Milwaukee's Best beer can will land on my head.

(sigh) I had a good run there.

Digging The Hole Deeper

Was it my fault that it happened? Maybe. I could have resisted more. I could have told Robyn that I am just not interested in "those shows" and refused to watch. But I accepted her offer. "Just watch it once with me," she said sinisterly, er innocently, "I think you'll really like it. The main character likes the Clash. If you hate it I'll never ask you to watch it again."

"Alright," I surrendered, "I'll watch your dumb show. But I'm not going to like it."

And then I said I didn't like it, but I allowed her to have reign over the controller when it came on. It made her happy, and in reality, it wasn't that bad of a show. Skip a few months into the future and here we are. Waiting in my house. Looking at my tools for the last time.

Good-bye crescent wrench. I knew him well Horatio.

What I Learned During My Checkered TV Viewing Habit

But let me tell you something about that show and why it's so popular amongst women (and emasculated men). It's the thing you notice during your first viewing. It's that pace. I was watching it the first time and within the first two segments I said out loud to Robyn, "No one talks like this!" She responded, "I know. It's awesome."

"Slow the freak down!" I screamed at the TV. "Shhhh," she scolded, "You're gonna miss something."

And indeed I did miss something. So now I have to watch this whole episode again, which is exactly what Robyn wants.

I see what is going on here!

Anyway, you can't turn away from the show. If you blink you miss half a conversation. Dialogue is flashing by at a trillion miles a second.

Then it hit me...Marketing Class.

Shopping...I Still Hate That, Can I Keep The Crescent Wrench?

I learned in my marketing class that women shoppers are always gathering information. They ask their friends what they buy, they look on the internet, they look in magazines, and when they arrive at the store to shop, they keep on gathering. The service, the layout, the other customers, everything.

For men, when they reach the store, information gathering has stopped and buying has begun. That is where the whole "shopping conflict" cliche comes from. Women are still looking for information, men have stopped.

And so we return to the Gilmore Girls. The whole show is a barrage of information. The words are coming fast. I mean FAST. Watch one episode and you'll see what I mean.

During this assault, women are actually being stimulated. Men, on the other hand, are being beaten to death with all of the words. It took me a few episodes to become acclimated to the environment. I mean, with all of that hostile enemy fire, er talking coming at me, it was a wonder that I survived.

So, let's try something that's more focused. Something a man can appreciate.

Good For The Goose

Have you recognized the second town yet? Basin City the setting for the comic book, and the movie based on the comic book, Sin City.

If you have seen it, I won't ruin it. But I will say that the comic and movie are very similar and it is worth a look even if you aren't a comic guy.

I mean I watch Gilmore Girls and I liked it.

Sin City is a Noir piece. The pace is very slow, foreboding. It gives the viewer time to consider the action, to take it all in. The visuals are as much a part of the story as the dialogue. And I found that I was having a familiar feeling with the movie. The men all have strong sense of pride. They feel duty, honor, and a need to protect.

These feelings are par for the course for men. So I took these "rules" for granted, but I wonder if Robyn missed out. She may not have fully understood the sacrifice of the men in the movie. It's not something I can explain really, just something that I understand. A philosophy. A biological imperative if you will.

Actually, I'm sure she doesn't get it. She didn't like Gladiator and that moving is swimming in all of this "male-psyche mythology".

But now I wonder if it's the same for me. Is there something that I am not fully appreciating about Gilmore Girls? I know these differences are self-evident and they have been stated before. But still I wonder, can men and women ever fully understand each other, or does something always get lost in the translation?

And why is it OK for her to watch Sin City and it's not OK for me to watch Gilmore Girls?

How is that fair?

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

La Vie BohemeLa Mort Boheme

2005-11-11T16:10:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

Something occurred to me while I was watching a commercial for
Rent: The Movie.

Now, I liked Rent: The Musical. It didn't strike a chord with me like it did for others, but it very much captured the moment of the 90's. So I like that about it.

It had the typical feelings and stories of the decade. Young adults coming together to create a patchwork family because they couldn't relate to their real ones. They aspire to create a "art" instead of money. They glorify an existence that they call "bohemian".

Now I understand what the bohemian is and I even romanticized the idea. I feel like everyone in Gen X does. Who would want to cast off everything and paint in New York? But I considered it and I question why that is my generation's ideal.

Voice Mail

Now the classic bohemian is someone who makes art. But in reality, few bohemians are artists So I remove artistic ability or production from the equation. But I do realize that art plays an important role for the bohemian. So appreciation for art is part of the equation.

The other aspect of the bohemian, is poverty. So bohemian life, then, is primarily about money or lack thereof. But before we get into that, I need introduce some new characters in order to make some comparisons.

And with them my straw man of an argument will be complete.

I'll Cover You

I feel like bohemians fall between two extremes. There is on one end the connoisseur. The connoisseur is someone who has money. He has money becasue he works hard. With the money that he earns, he can afford to surround themselves with fine things. They appreciate quality through glorification of man's works and excesses of wealth

On the other end we have the monk. This person shuns all comforts in order to gain a spiritual purity. Think of him as a recluse. He lives away from society and seeks quality through a minimalism, a nakedness, a tearing down of man's excesses.

In the middle is the bohemian. Someone who does not have wealth and sees that as a purity. But the bohemian is interested in finer things as well. They want to be versed in art, literature, and the like. They see these finer things as a spirituality as well. It is through art that there are creative expressions of the pure soul.

In a sense, they want to have it both ways.

Over The Moon

They want purity, but they want their creativity to be appreciated. They want a Spartan life, but want to be seen as worldly. Having money is selling-out, but not owning or creating art is seen as a shallow life.

Now art costs money. It does. Learning an appreciation for art costs money too. So you have to have money in order to become a connoisseur. But you can't have purity if you have money, so have to get rid of it. Do you just throw it away like the monk? That would be too drastic a move for the bohemian, so they buy cheap art. There, now I have no money, but I have art.

Hoo-ray!

What You Own

See, art is a product. It is, it's a thing that is made/produced and it can be bought. Buying a product makes you one thing...a consumer. The bohemian, therefore, is nothing more than a snobbish consumer. He's a person that is too afraid to have completely nothing, too lazy to earn enough to become a true appreciator of the arts, and doesn't have the talent to make art himself. He flaunts things like independent film, local music, and experimental theatre because that is what he can afford. He lives a life of conspicuous poverty, flashing his badge of bankruptcy in order to gain a moral high ground in arguments. He considers himself as part of the elite. After all, he was buying The Postal Service CDs before they were big.

They talk a good game. They are very smart and very educated. But I am done with the claims of "selling-out". To the bohemian I say, "Whatever dude. You just need to chill." You can elaborate on the downfall of "true art" to someone else.

Because you shouldn't have to prove that you deserve existence. You should just deserve it.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

I Can't Make It Today...I'm Sick

2005-11-09T14:34:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

Today I am sick. Really, it's no lie. I was sick yesterday, but I didn't realize it until the day was half over. So I called in and I am feeling better today.

Thanks for asking.

As I was sitting at home recuperating, I realized that sick days are a strange thing. The TV is different, you eat different things, you are somewhere other than work or school. But here's the really strange part: sick days are always the same. You always get the same drinks, same food, watch generally the same kind of TV. You call it your "sick food" or "sick drinks". When you are at home recuperating, you fall into a different schedule/habit. It's your sick day schedule.

So I began to think of sick days as a place that you visit. A different universe filled with talk shows, reruns, and soup. It's a place where you are quiet, alone, and focusing your energies on healing. A temple of meditation if you will.

But you never come upon this place by looking for it. Your body has to decide that you must take a break form the regular universe and visit this other one. You're walking along, minding your own business, the suddenly, BOOM! You're at home, alone, fluids all around.

Fluids are very important in this universe you know.

You Know That Icky Taste In Your Throat After You're Sick

My time here took a dark turn. You see, I became dependent on this shadow reality. I went to let the cats in and looked outside. It was cloudy and ominous. I was scared and didn't want to take a step out into it. I shriveled back into my private world, afraid to confront the problems of the real one.

But I tire of this place. I want to rejoin the living and be useful again. I fight my illness, determined to break through the coffin of Gatorade and blankets that is around me. I know that this sick universe is only temporary. Created for me to escape to and then escape from in a moment.

That and I want a cheeseburger and I'd feel guilty eating one when I'm supposed to be "ill".

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

On Polite Interrogation

2005-11-07T16:50:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

Traditions and conventions have their place. I for one would have things stay as they are rather than paw at the tapestry of society.

But recently I had to go to a meal. You know the situation, your company, school, church, has a function. You don't want to go. You hate these things. You're in a room of strangers. All of them wanting to grill you about the details of what you do during the week. And they ways of making you talk.

But you know you're going. And don't bother asking why you're going, cause man, that's a losing battle. Trust me. Just know that you're right, there isn't a logical reason, and quit while you're ahead.

So you're going to suck it up, tie the tie, trim the beard, and head out for your inquisition. When you arrive, it is just as you have envisioned. Awkward. The questions, as you expected, are all variations on the same questions you heard the last time you were at one of these things.

Or maybe, this is the same function and you are stuck in a time vortex. Better act like you belong before the Time Wraiths find out what's happened and send the Langoliers after you. Just smile and nod. You can try and find a rip in the space/time continuum when you get home.

Wait, here comes someone. Play it cool and act natural. ACT NATURAL!

Here Come The Questions...Just Plead The 5th

1) What is your name?
2) What do you do to earn a living?
3) Where are you from?
4) With whom did you arrive (spouse, friend, alone)?
5) How are you connected with the group that is holding this function (friends, relatives, alone)?
6) How long have you been affiliated with the group?

Are your eyes rolling? Mine are. It's hard to type this way.

Here's the thing, I realized that these questions are all about external qualities. Most of them are concerned with how you are connected with the network that the group has established. Sort of like, are you a "major player" or are you on "the fringe". So these questions aren't really about me, they are about everything around me and how I am connected to it. You know, what power do I sway with the group.

I recently participated in one of these meals and luckily I escaped. But during the meal, I began to wonder, why ask these same questions? Why not ask questions that are intended to find out the "real" me. What would these questions look like?

They're Gonna Hit You On Cross

The questions that I came up with initially were questions that concerned pop culture. I thought that maybe if I found out what you liked, then I would find out what you are like*. These questions are meaningless because no one else would have the same tastes as I do. So asking who would win in a fight, the Millennium Falcon or the Enterprise-D (Picard), may end in confused looks rather than a deep discussion on theoretical physics, crew make-up, and how Betazed telepathy would effect a Jedi's the use of The Force.

And may I guarantee that this question WILL be discussed in the comments section.

I thought of political questions, but those are too touchy. No one wants to start a flamewar during a nice dinner out. Talking sports is about as meaningful as talking about the weather. No real meat there. So where do we go from here?

So I realized that maybe I was asking too much. We all have decided to guard our inner thoughts from everyone else until we feel like that area of our brain is safe from ridicule. Until people have shared experiences, we can't allow our real feelings to run around. So we dip our toes into each other to test the waters. If it's warm/cool enough, we put a foot in. Then a leg. Pretty soon were splish-splashing around.

But I still hate those dinners.

Do I have to go?

Yes.

Fine, here's your stinking answers.

...McCarthy.

1) James
2) Purchasing Coordinator for Harding University. I buy stuff when someone needs something.
3) Originally, I'm from Fort Worth, TX (White Settlement if you're from DFW). Right now I live in Searcy, AR
4) I came with the red-head over there. She's my wife Robyn.
5) Sure. There's probably someone around here I know. What about that guy over there. No the dude next to him. Yeah I know him.
6) Varies. Let's leave it at that.

The only thing left now is to cut this section out, paste it on notecards, and pass them out.

But I think I'll print the Falcon vs. Enterprise question on the back. You know, just in case.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

*Gordon, R (2000). Idea stolen from movie: High Fidelity. Movie based on the Nick Hornby book: High Fidelity.

...And Thanks To Anyone Else That We Forgot

2005-11-04T08:23:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

I was having a conversation with my friend Jay yesterday. We were talking about different things and I brought up the fact that I was writing on my blog and that I was discussing Preemptive Thinking. He remembered that I had brought the subject up to him before and asked if I remembered that he had thought of Preemptive Listening as an addition to my thesis. I said that I had, but then something terrible dawned on me...

I had used some of his thoughts on Preemptive Listening in my post on Compassion. Most of the post was stuff that I had come up with, but I began to feel guilty. I felt as though I had given Trey his credit in the post but not Jay. What kind of a friend was I? I completely neglected his contribution.

Then I became paranoid.

All of my posts, ideas, any thought that I had ever had, what if they all were merely thefts of someone else's creativity? Had I had an original thought, ever? Forever? Forever ever? Forever ever ever?

But then I began to lawyer up. "I'd been the first to post it," I thought, "Publish or perish I always say." More people heard me say it first, I had more witnesses, and math matters in big precedence cases like these, right? I had him right where I wanted him.

But then the "crazy pills" started wearing off and I began to float back to reality. This is just a idiotic blog. Because there was no money involved, there probably wouldn't be a trail. Nobody wants to fight over principle, only over money. Then I began to hear a song in my head.

I don't know what they want from me
It's like the more money we come across
The more problems we see

B.I.G., Notorious (1997). Excerpts from Mo' Money Mo' Problems. Life After Death. Retrieved 11/03/2005 from Lyrics Mansion

Biggie always makes me philosophical. Something in the beat or something in the "mad rhymes" perhaps. I began to wander away from the semantics of who started the idea, to the core of the issue. Maybe my conscience could be completely soothed if I could destroy the entire premise of having original thought. I wondered, have any thoughts ever been established without some other thought to build off of? I mean, where do thoughts come from?

Pistol-whip Epistemology

The answer is called epistemology. Epistemology is a school of philosophy concerning how we can come to know. There are two main, rival branches: a priori & a posteriori. A priori knowledge is knowledge that is derived from reason alone. A posteriori knowledge is knowledge that is arrived at by experience.

After I remembered this I asked myself some questions. Were the thoughts that I wrote universally apparent to me, indeed all humans, before I stated them? Or did I need the experience of Jay's conversation before I could arrive at them?

I became worried again.

I began to lose all perspective. I was spiraling out of control. The post became a ticking time-bomb in my mind. Jay could sense the tension in my voice. I cracked under his interrogation of, "What's up, dude?"

I confessed my sins trying desperately to throw the albatross from my neck. I begged for his mercy. "Oh pity me my brother," I cried, "I have wronged you by not providing a complete APA format citation of your contribution to my posts. Indeed, I have not even included you as a footnote. I beg forgiveness!"

"Rise," he said, "I don't know if you are rising because we're on the phone, but I'll assume you've risen."

He needn't have worried. I stood at attention, awaiting my punishment. Beaten with whips? Reeds? A firing squad perhaps?

He continued, "We are friends. Even if you were to publish these thoughts, I am more interested in the conversations that we have. As long as they continue, I don't care who gets credit for what."

I cracked a smile. My heart leapt! I had gained forgiveness from my brother!

...and little does he know, I recorded the whole thing.

My book is coming out in December and now he's not getting a penny.

Muhahahahahaha!

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

What Is With These Kids Today?

2005-11-02T15:45:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

Let me tell you a story.

There's an old man. He is in his house quietly doing a crossword. He goes to fill in the final blank when there is a subtle vibration. He feels it getting stronger. There is a ripple in the glass of water sitting on the night stand next to him. He looks up and sees that the vibration is spreading to the pictures on the walls. Then it spreads to the light fixture above. The vibrations turn into drum beats, then screetching guitar, then a furious yell, "CAN YOU TAKE ME HIIIIIIIGHERRRRR?"

The old man covers his hears and screams, "Turn that racket off!"

But the perpetrator of the racket, a teenage boy next door, is lost in the song. He turns it up even louder. The old man become crazy with rage, and begins to get up, determined to end his torment...

About The Author

We are all familiar with this cliche. Teenagers listen to, or watch, or play on the computer things that adults do not understand or like. Usually these strange things are seen as destructive or subversive. Usually, cliches such as these have some grain of truth to them.

I participated in this particular cliche when I was a teenager. I liked to dabble in underground music and enjoyed flaunting my obscure tastes conspicuously whenever an opportunity arose. I think this sort of elitism is common, especially with the young. You may be familiar with these sort of people (me). They're the ones that decry the evils of radio and mass appeal. They proclaim that "true art" is only alive in the underground scene that they are active participants in. "Don't pollute your mind with that trash," they'll say while pointing to your favorite CD, "you gotta listen to this, man. This is the future/revolution/kumquat of music. REAL music." Then they hand you a tape of some band of euros playing their guitar too close to the amp.

Yeah, so, um, sorry to everyone I knew in high school...

...and in college.

Where's This Going James?

During those years as an elitist, I had a typical appreciation for all forms of music. But I knew that one day I would be old. And when that day came, there would be a style of music that I would find terrible and my children would love it. But I had a feeling, or maybe a fear, that there was a limited amount of musical expressions. I felt as though we were using up the few last original styles/genres that were left. So I became curious...

What would this new style that the old-man version of me would find so awful?

And now that I am getting old, shouldn't it be showing up right about now?

The Furture Ain't What It Used To Be

We'll today's teenagers aren't yesterday's teenagers. If you have your ear turned to what's happening now musically, you may have already noticed what I'm getting at. Here it is: have you noticed that there isn't anything offensive about today's music?

A common reaction to that question is "What's offensive anymore?" I can see the rationale behind that but I do not except it as an excuse. There should somebody, somewhere making music that is dangerous. This dangerous music should be enjoying some high level of popularity. This is the way it has been for the history of Pop Music (big P). Has it taken only 60 years to become bored with the whole thing?

Instead of my old man version being offended and repulsed by our children's erosion of character, I am going to be offended and repulsed by our children being lame.

Let me give you an example of lame. Here is an excerpt from a current "metal"/"hard rock" song:

Looking back at me I see
That I never really got it right
I never stopped to think of you
I'm always wrapped up in
Things I cannot win
You are the antidote that gets me by
Something strong
Like a drug that gets me high

(Chorus)
What I really meant to say
Is I'm sorry for the way I am
I never meant to be so cold
I never meant to be so cold
What I really meant to say
Is I'm sorry for the way I am
I never meant to be so cold
I never meant to be so cold

To you I'm sorry about all the lies
Maybe in a different light
You could see me stand on my own again
Cause now I can't see
You are the antidote that got me by
Something strong like a drug that got me high

(Chorus)

Crossfade (2004). Excerpts from Cold. Crossfade. Retrieved
11/02/205 from Lyrics Heaven

"What I REALLY meant to say"? "Sorry"? "Maybe"? This supposed to be a "hard rock" song? The guy is apologizing to his girlfriend! He even has a girlfriend to apologize to! And if he REALLY menat to say something, why didn't he say it? He's a metal singer! This song breaks like 40 or 50 metal rules. And the kids call this a rock song.

Well it's not a rock song, it's an emo song. Everything that was once rock is now emo. Let's talk about feelings. Let's consider things. Hey I love emo, I'm a big emo guy, but where is the dark music? Where is the sinister atheism of Alice in Chains? Where is the decay and emotional atrophy of Nirvana? Where is the pain of Metallica? Where are the nightmares of Pantera? WHERE? I ask you again, where?

And it's everything music, not just rock. Take rap and hip-hop. There are no more exaggerated tales of street life. There's no more cartoonish violence. What's in its place? Invitations to drink alcohol at dance clubs and descriptions of what it's like to buy a new automobile. This sort of "bling" was present during my teenage years, but there was also a darker mood to a lot of what was being made.

Even pop (little p) has weakened. I mean, weren't Mariah Carey, Madonna, and Gwen Stefani pop vixens fifteen years ago? If all of the "hot chicks" are 40+ years old, then I'd definetley say you had a problem with being cutting edge or cool. Am I wrong here?

In The Ancient Times, The Artist Leads The Way...

Everything has gone soft. I guess you could even say there is nothing left that is "hardcore", and I blame the kids. It's hard to say which came first, the lame music or the lame kids, but I think it's the lame kids.

When I look at generations, I always fall back to Strauss and Howe. They term the generation after Generation X (Gen X) as Millennials (Mills). The Mills are more interested in fitting-in and conforming than Gen X. They are interested in being pat of a community, whereas Gen X was interested in individuality. Look at the things that they have had during their formative years: cell phones, internet, play groups, etc. They have all been involved in teams and groups all of their lives. I think this reflects in their music preferences.

Their music is not going to be shock because that would drive people away. They would rather bring people closer. Music for a Gen Xer was an expression of them as an individual. Gen X'ers would usually describe in detail the particular sub-sub-genre they liked. Now, you are more likely to hear a Mill say, "I like everything". It's even hard for Mills to describe what is popular or what particular bands they follow. To distinguish themselves in that way is not in their nature.

The old man arrives at the boy's house and begins pounding on the door. The boy comes to the door. "Yes," he inquires, "may I help you?"

The old man brushes by the boy and makes a bee-line to the stereo. "As a matter of fact, you can," the old man says, uninterested in the boy. "It's this terrible music. What is this called?" the old man spits out.

The boy, confused, answers, "Creed. They're one of my fav..."

"Trash," the old man interrupts as he breaks the CD in half, "I liked it better when the band was called Pearl Jam." The old man reaches out and presents the boy with a CD Notebook.

"Here," the old man continues, "Now this is some music. Some REAL music. None of this mass-produced, jibba-jabba that you're playing. Your polluting your mind with all of this junk."

The boy turns the pages: Soundgarden, Stone Temple Pilots, Toadies, there were hundreds. The boy, stunned asks, "What is going on? Who are you? What are you doing here?"

The old man smiles, "I'm nobody. But I figure if you're gonna play something loud enough that I can hear it, then you may as well play something good."

The old man turns to leave.

"Why are you doing this?" the boy asks.

The old-man half turns and says mournfully,"Because a long time ago, a man knocked on my door and gave me all of his records. I'm just returning the favor."

"Really?" the boy asked.

"No," the old man says suddenly, "I'm just tired of listening to you play your freaking terrible music. Cause if I hear you play 'Hollaback Girl' one more time, I'll be forced ruin this house with a blow-torch. Comprende?"

The boy nods shamefully.

"Good" decrees the old-man.

And they both tolerated each other's existence ever after.

The End.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

A Passion for Compassion & Advanced Preemptive Thinking

2005-10-31T16:12:00.000-08:00

Dear Avid Reader,

A friend of mine, Trey, sent me a comment on Preemptive Thinking. He just so happened to touch on something that has been on my mind. Let me recount what he said concerning my "grocery line" example of Preemptive Thinking:

"...my goal is NOT to get out as quickly as possible. My goal is to have as much fun as possible at any given moment.

"So you stand there and ignore the light. Then make hand motions like a deaf person. They will get embarrassed and wave you over. You make a confused face and point to the light, they will turn it on. Then you shrug and make the thank you motion (open hand on chin, moving away from face...make sure to overly mouth the words 'THANK YOU').

"Let them check you out as normal. All the while smiling and nodding. Be sure to focus on their lips. If something rings up wrong try and correct them, try and get a price check or something charades style.

"...when you are all paid up, wave off any help to the car. At the automatic doors turn and yell 'Thanks Goodbye! And for Pete's sake keep your light on!"

Laminack, F. E.(2005). Excerpts from Comments Section: Preemptive Thinking. The Art Of Dumbing It Down. Retrieved 10/30/2005 from Preemptive Thinking Comments Section

Now some would associate all of this calculation with being cold and unfeeling. But I believe the opposite is true. Trey is actually being a caring person in his example by using an advanced form of preemption. He has decided that his goal is to "have as much fun as possible" as opposed to "getting out of the store" as was the example in my earlier post (Preemptive Thinking). Let's first explore the definition of "fun" as I see it being used in Trey's example before moving on to Advanced Preemption.

Having Fun Is Hard Work

"Fun" in Trey's example is not as self-centered as he may have described in his opening paragraphs. I think Trey doesn't want to "have as much fun as possible" as he wants the OTHER person to have as much fun as possible.

In the example, Trey begins by acting as though he is really put out by the light being off. He then follows this by acting like he is very frustrated by the service he is receiving. What he is doing through his acting, is offering up a character for the attendant ridicule. Through his "character", the attendant can laugh at people who are actually rude. Trey is also ridiculing these people by exaggerating the rudeness of the "rude people" through his character. He ends his "play" with an over-the-top exclamation about leaving the light on, bringing the entire event to a crescendo of faux nastiness.

So really Trey is having fun but only because the attendant is having fun. But fun is not all that is happening.

Atop The Precipice

This action that Trey undertook is Advanced Preemption. I call it this because I believe Trey started with an initial goal (leave the store with X) and then decided to exceed it (have fun with the attendant).

After the attendant waved Trey over, Trey made a split second decision to try and make the attendant's day better. Doing this would also make him feel good, but it also serves a pragmatic purpose. The attendant may be more inclined to give better service now as well as in the future. This is because Trey would have created a positive experience that the attendant will remember.

Now the attendant having fun should always take precedence over getting better service. People are very perceptive. Trey's action would have rung falsely if the attendant felt as though Trey was trying to get something from her. But Trey's action were meant to be enjoyed by the attendant, so his intentions were true.

So, in that spilt decision as he was waved over, Trey saw another human being and an opportunity to interact with them. He decided to meet that opportunity and engage that person. He could have easily ignored the whole situation and leave, but he decided to not let the moment pass. The two of them shared a super specific moment in time and enjoyed it together.

This is called compassion and I have been thinking about it a lot recently.

Do You Really Mean It?

Maybe is has come with age, maybe it has come with an experience that I cannot remember, but I have become fascinated with caring. I am interested with what's happening with other people. I mean, have you noticed how hilarious they are? But compassion is not all fun and games. Compassion is risky business.

Let's go back to the grocery line. If Trey began his "show" and the attendant wasn't in the mood to hear it, the Trey would have created a negative experience. The attendant would have felt like Trey was an arrogant, cavalier, jerk. Or worse, the attendant could take Trey's fake rudeness for actual rudeness. Thoughts of "Who does he think he is?" and "Getta load of this guy!" would probably go racing through her head.

Trey would lose on the compassion side as well as on the practical side. The attendant might even take action and try and slow down Trey's purchases. She can ask for several forms of identification, intentionally slow down her movements, calling over a manager for no reason, excessive price checking, etc. Because Trey has increased the benefits of success, he has also increased the consequences if he fails. You can see how caring can be dangerous.

Compassion only works when the giver means it and can perceive if the receiver needs/wants it. No one likes charity, no one, and no one likes be patronized. So not only is intentional care involved, but also a modicum of humility is involved too.

It's a dastardly game this "compassion", but I believe that we are all called to make our mistakes on the side of attempting rather than restraining.

So embrace those moments. Don't be afraid of caring too much. I know Trey and I won't.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better

James

P.S. Did you notice the sweet APA Format style citation of Trey's comments? You can bet there'll be more of that action.

Preemptive Thinking

2005-10-28T09:47:00.000-07:00

Dear Avid Reader,

I'd like to discuss with you a theory that I have been toying with. It's called Preemptive Thinking.

Preemptive thinking is similar to thinking before you speak (TBYS), but it takes TBYS a little further. I'll explain.

Say you are at a grocery store. You've selected your items and are ready to leave. Your goal is to pay for your items and leave. Most often, the fastest completion of this goals is the preferred tactic and that is the tactic you have decided to take.

So, you saunter up to the front of the store and there are two lanes: Lane A and Lane B. Both lanes are manned and the attendants are currently checking out customers, but only Lane A has their "light on" (you know, the light above the check out line to indicate if a lane is open). You assume that the attendant at Lane B has just completed her shift, and you make the decision to get at the end of Lane A.

But, after the Lane B attendant has finished with her current customer, she looks to you and says, "I can get you right here"

You say, "O.K....I would have come over here earlier but your light was off."

To me, you have just made a mistake. By making that comment you have derailed your goal of getting out of here as soon as possible. How have you derailed it? That question can be answered when we look at what your potential reason behind making the statement is. Here are the two most common reasons:

1) You don't want the attendant to think you are an idiot.

This reason has no root in reality. It has everything to do with vanity.

You see, the attendant has a goal too. That goal is to get you out of here as soon as possible so that she can do something else. Therefore you and her have goal compatibility and the last thing she wants to do is make you change your goal. It is right in line with her goal. Whatever line you were in, for whatever reason doesn't matter, she just wants to help. If she can't understand that you have made a choice based on information that she has given you in the form of a light being off, then in fact she is the idiot. Not you.

But let's step back even further. Is it reasonable to think that this person will remember that you were in a longer line and not a shorter one the next time you meet? There really is no concern here because the attendant will never remember your face. She checks people out all of the time. The only way she will remember you, is if you do something memorable. One example of this might be telling her the obvious like her light is off. So you have actually accomplished the opposite of what you intended by making yourself conspicuous.

You have won the battle but you have lost the war. You have showed the attendant that you are not an idiot, but rather, a jerk. To explain this angle further, let's go to point two...

2) You want to help her by pointing out that she has her light off.

Alright, so you want to help. That's cool. But by making that comment, you have gone on the offensive which will make her go on the defensive. She wanted to help, and you respond with a remark that details a potential mistake. Now she is not only less inclined to hear your suggestion, but now she is less likely to help you with your main goal: to leave quickly with your purchases. So when you decided that helping with the "light on" situation was more or of equal importance to your goal of leaving, you have actually hurt yourself on both fronts.

This second reason (helping), to me, is actually a smoke screen reason for the first reason (idiot). The reason I feel this way is because if the real concern is that the light is off, there are better tactics than just blurting it out as soon as you realize that the lane is open. You would probably wait until the transaction was almost complete (goal 1) and then inform the attendant in a sort of subtle way. This would allow the attendant to save face if they forgot to turn it on and it would not embarrass them.

Moving on...

So we see that the effects of making the remark are actually harmful rather than helpful despite the intentions. Your primary goal was subverted because you decided that one/both of these secondary goals were more important that your initial one at that particular moment. If you would have thought about how your statement was actually going to effect the attendant, you may have chosen a different course of action.

This is the main thrust of preemptive thinking. Each time you speak, you either bring yourself closer to completing a goal, or you move yourself further away. There are NO neutral communications. None. Saying nothing is the only communication that has no value unless it is in response to a direct question. In which case, silence is usually seen as negative.

Preemptive Thinking asks that you look at the effect of what you say has on a goal. Does the statement relate directly to the task at hand? If not, what will the potential drag of the statement have on my goal. If I am not sure, is it worth the risk?

Like chess, try and think a move ahead. If the what you are about to say doesn't help you directly and immediately, then the statement will always hurt you directly and immediately. Always.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James

It happened so subtlely, you really had to look to see it happening...

2005-10-27T17:45:00.000-07:00

Dear Avid Reader,

I'm not sure how I got here.

I have railed against blogs for the longest time.This idea of people writing about themselves becasue they think someone out there actually cares is the reason I have never read blogs, cared about blogs, and is probalby why I am starting a blog.

My wife said when she was starting her blog that she thought of blogs as a way to keep up with family. You can write when you want, they can check when they want and it works out for everyone. Conveinent.

Well, I'm not going to hide behind that fairy tale. I am making a blog because I am "so darn interesting". Why there isn't a reality TV crew following me I cannot say. There should at least be a bard or scribe writing epic poems and songs of my victories. Perferrably in Klingon.

As I write this, I realize that I never had a consistent journal because I knew that no one would read it. Journals are traditionally secret and personal. Now that there is a possibility that someone may read my blog, I am sure to write in it all the time. I figure someone out there agrees with everything I say. And so it is for you, Avid Reader, that I write.

So what to expect.

In addition to my wife, my in-laws all have blogs (and they all have devout followings as well).All of them focus on the hobby of the blogist. There's my father-in-law and fly-tying, my mother-in-law and knitting, and my brother-in-law and technology. So my blog will not be in this same vein as them in that it will be about me. That is unless I become a hobby somehow, so watch for that.

These blogs always seem to take on the form of a one-sided dialouge. So I guess that'll be the format that I adopt. Me talking, no one listening. You are probably familiar with this if you have any experience with blogs.

So welcome to the blog, I'm sure there will be links and pictures soon, probably a survey or poll.

The Next Post Promises To Be Better,

James