Sunday, January 31, 2010
Quote of the Day
"We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives." --Chuck Palahniuk (b. 1962)
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Quote of the Day
"In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught. In a world of thieves, the only final sin is stupidity." --Hunter S. Thompson (1937-2005)
Friday, January 29, 2010
A Nation of Cowards?
In honor of the unjustified hoopla surrounding Chris Matthews' innocent comment, I give you an old blog on a similar theme, originally released on February 18th, 2009.
Eric Holder, our nation’s first black Attorney General, has called us out. In a speech given to Justice Department employees, he has stated that, in matters of race, we are “essentially a nation of cowards,” and that we should start discussing these matters, however difficult, more openly and honestly. Well! To quote Yosemite Sam, “Thems fightin’ words!”
I’m not saying I disagree. I agree completely. But, whether you think I’m tactless for saying it or not, it’s a lot easier for a black man to make that statement than it is for a white man. You see, if an African American wants to talk about race, he can just talk about his personal experiences with racism, oppression and the like; he’s bound to have some. But white people have no real experience in this area. We would be speaking from an inherently unknowledgeable position, which means we’re more likely to make a misstep. And a misstep for a caucasian on this subject could mean the loss of a job or a friend. Thus, even those of us who consider ourselves relatively enlightened on the subject of race tend to avoid it like the plague.
But screw it. There’s something that I’ve been meaning to write about for a while now, and this provides the perfect opportunity. I may offend some people, but please understand that no offense is meant. I’m simply calling it like I see it.
I want to talk about the word “nigger.” Personally, I hate it. Off the top of my head, I can’t think of another word in the English language that I find more vile and offensive, and I’m white, so I understand how it must make an African American feel. But that’s what confuses me. If blacks find it so offensive, why the hell do they use it so often?
I understand that blacks pretty much never say “nigger.” That word is left to toothless Klan members and non-blacks that really, really want to piss off an African American. Instead, blacks use the variation, “nigga.” It might seem like a small difference, but it’s always been an important distinction to me.
I know that some people are of the opinion that using the word lessens its power, but I don’t buy it. A white guy won’t get his ass kicked any less for using the term in front of a black guy, and the black man won’t be any less offended, no matter how much he might use it himself.
If there’s going to be a distinction between “nigger” and “nigga” among blacks, then I believe that “nigga” should be fair for all to use. It’s all a matter of the intent, and the intent is usually plain as day. For example, I love hip-hop music, which is replete with the use of “nigga.” Hell, in his song “Put It Down,” Redman ends almost every line with “nigga.” If I were singing along with the song it’d be pretty damn obvious that I meant no offense, but I’d still get a serious beat down if I got caught doing so. That’s crap.
I hate double standards, and this is a big one in our culture. The black people in the audience might be rolling their eyes, thinking “Poor little cracker. A double standard that goes our way for once.” I understand how one might be inclined to feel this way. But, as the cliché goes, two wrongs don’t make a right. I hate all double standards, whether they are detrimental or favorable to me, because they are inherently wrong. End of story.
To put it bluntly, I think African Americans have a choice to make. They should either be a little more understanding when us honkies use the less offensive variation (I promise that there are plenty of us capable of making the distinction), or they should stop using the word themselves. If blacks really want “nigger” to go away, then they need to stop peppering their speech with “nigga.”
The use of the word, even a variation, perpetuates it because, whether you like it or not, black culture is increasingly American culture. White kids grow up listening to hip-hop and R&B, watching Friday and How High, dating blacks, and saying “Nigga, please!” when someone says something outrageous. They hear “nigga” on a daily basis, and many fail to understand that “nigga” coming from the mouth of a white kid still feels like “nigger” to an African American.
(I can personally attest to this. I’m from a small town in the mountains where there are essentially zero African Americans. I went away to college and one day found myself in a room with a bunch of more savvy city kids, including a black guy. I can’t remember what the exact circumstances were, but I ended up innocently quoting a line from Pulp Fiction that applied to the current situation: “Chill them niggas out.” Crickets, man. I didn’t get my ass handed to me, prob’ly on account o’ my country ways, but it was the first and last time I said “nigga” in front of a black guy.)
Another key to getting rid of this word is to ignore it. Remember what your parents used to say when your little brother was bugging you? “Just ignore him. He’ll get tired of it and move on to something else.” If you want “nigger” to go away, then stop reacting to it. I realize that this is easier said than done, but if the ignorant morons who use it see that it no longer has the desired effect, they’ll stop using it. It might take a while, but it will happen.
Richard Pryor, upon his return from a trip to Africa, stated how wonderful it was when he realized that there were no niggers there. Obviously, this doesn’t mean that there weren’t black people in Africa; he simply meant that since no one said “nigger,” there weren’t any. He said that this had inspired him to never use the word again, and he encouraged everyone else to do the same. As you can tell, the majority decided not to take him up on the offer. Perhaps it’s time we reexamined it.
Do I think that's actually going to happen? Nigga, please!
Eric Holder, our nation’s first black Attorney General, has called us out. In a speech given to Justice Department employees, he has stated that, in matters of race, we are “essentially a nation of cowards,” and that we should start discussing these matters, however difficult, more openly and honestly. Well! To quote Yosemite Sam, “Thems fightin’ words!”
I’m not saying I disagree. I agree completely. But, whether you think I’m tactless for saying it or not, it’s a lot easier for a black man to make that statement than it is for a white man. You see, if an African American wants to talk about race, he can just talk about his personal experiences with racism, oppression and the like; he’s bound to have some. But white people have no real experience in this area. We would be speaking from an inherently unknowledgeable position, which means we’re more likely to make a misstep. And a misstep for a caucasian on this subject could mean the loss of a job or a friend. Thus, even those of us who consider ourselves relatively enlightened on the subject of race tend to avoid it like the plague.
But screw it. There’s something that I’ve been meaning to write about for a while now, and this provides the perfect opportunity. I may offend some people, but please understand that no offense is meant. I’m simply calling it like I see it.
I want to talk about the word “nigger.” Personally, I hate it. Off the top of my head, I can’t think of another word in the English language that I find more vile and offensive, and I’m white, so I understand how it must make an African American feel. But that’s what confuses me. If blacks find it so offensive, why the hell do they use it so often?
I understand that blacks pretty much never say “nigger.” That word is left to toothless Klan members and non-blacks that really, really want to piss off an African American. Instead, blacks use the variation, “nigga.” It might seem like a small difference, but it’s always been an important distinction to me.
I know that some people are of the opinion that using the word lessens its power, but I don’t buy it. A white guy won’t get his ass kicked any less for using the term in front of a black guy, and the black man won’t be any less offended, no matter how much he might use it himself.
If there’s going to be a distinction between “nigger” and “nigga” among blacks, then I believe that “nigga” should be fair for all to use. It’s all a matter of the intent, and the intent is usually plain as day. For example, I love hip-hop music, which is replete with the use of “nigga.” Hell, in his song “Put It Down,” Redman ends almost every line with “nigga.” If I were singing along with the song it’d be pretty damn obvious that I meant no offense, but I’d still get a serious beat down if I got caught doing so. That’s crap.
I hate double standards, and this is a big one in our culture. The black people in the audience might be rolling their eyes, thinking “Poor little cracker. A double standard that goes our way for once.” I understand how one might be inclined to feel this way. But, as the cliché goes, two wrongs don’t make a right. I hate all double standards, whether they are detrimental or favorable to me, because they are inherently wrong. End of story.
To put it bluntly, I think African Americans have a choice to make. They should either be a little more understanding when us honkies use the less offensive variation (I promise that there are plenty of us capable of making the distinction), or they should stop using the word themselves. If blacks really want “nigger” to go away, then they need to stop peppering their speech with “nigga.”
The use of the word, even a variation, perpetuates it because, whether you like it or not, black culture is increasingly American culture. White kids grow up listening to hip-hop and R&B, watching Friday and How High, dating blacks, and saying “Nigga, please!” when someone says something outrageous. They hear “nigga” on a daily basis, and many fail to understand that “nigga” coming from the mouth of a white kid still feels like “nigger” to an African American.
(I can personally attest to this. I’m from a small town in the mountains where there are essentially zero African Americans. I went away to college and one day found myself in a room with a bunch of more savvy city kids, including a black guy. I can’t remember what the exact circumstances were, but I ended up innocently quoting a line from Pulp Fiction that applied to the current situation: “Chill them niggas out.” Crickets, man. I didn’t get my ass handed to me, prob’ly on account o’ my country ways, but it was the first and last time I said “nigga” in front of a black guy.)
Another key to getting rid of this word is to ignore it. Remember what your parents used to say when your little brother was bugging you? “Just ignore him. He’ll get tired of it and move on to something else.” If you want “nigger” to go away, then stop reacting to it. I realize that this is easier said than done, but if the ignorant morons who use it see that it no longer has the desired effect, they’ll stop using it. It might take a while, but it will happen.
Richard Pryor, upon his return from a trip to Africa, stated how wonderful it was when he realized that there were no niggers there. Obviously, this doesn’t mean that there weren’t black people in Africa; he simply meant that since no one said “nigger,” there weren’t any. He said that this had inspired him to never use the word again, and he encouraged everyone else to do the same. As you can tell, the majority decided not to take him up on the offer. Perhaps it’s time we reexamined it.
Do I think that's actually going to happen? Nigga, please!
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Quote of the Day
"A conservative is one who admires radicals centuries after they're dead." --Leo Rosten (1908-1997)
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Quote of the Day
"It is almost impossible to carry the torch of truth through a crowd without singeing somebody's beard." --George Christopher Lichtenberg (1742-1799)
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Quote of the Day
"One of the indictments of civilization is that happiness and intelligence are so rarely found in the same person." --William Feather (1889-1981)
Sunday, January 24, 2010
The Buddhist: The Simple Life
This is a slightly modified version of a blog originally released on August 30th, 2008.
I was channel surfing before bed tonight when I happened upon a show called "Amazing Log Homes." Sounds a little silly, I know, but it fascinated me.
For one thing, it was on HGTV, a channel I rarely pay attention to. After all, I don't own a home (let alone a garden) and won't be able to afford one any time soon (if at all).
To put it another way, I don't fall into the demographic that typically watches this network. If you know anything about TV, you probably know that you'll see different commercials depending on what type of show you're watching, what time of day it is, and what network it's on. The commercials I saw while watching this show were not the ones I was used to watching, but they described a life I was very familiar with.
Much of my childhood was spent in a relatively small town in the foothills of the Sierra Nevadas. Small towns attract a certain kind of person, especially towns in the mountains. The people are more open, probably because privacy is in shorter supply than it is in a large city. They're also simpler, not in terms of intellect but rather in terms of their expectations and desires.
These are white people generally (at least in my hometown), some of which are a bit . . .earthy, shall we say? These are folks who use words like "folks," who go to church, and believe that men should be the providers and women should be the homemakers. These people buy American, listen to country music, and furnish their homes with animal heads. And the commercials reflected that.
The show reflected it as well. Notice that the title of the show is not "Amazing Log Houses." That's not by mistake. These were homes in the truest sense of the word. Many of these buildings were massive, built to house not simply a nuclear family, but multiple generations of family. They were built to last, homes to be passed from generation to generation (one owner said his home was built to last 500 years). Despite their size, most of the homes failed to evoke a feeling of excess or frivolity. They were akin to the American West version of a castle, or the long houses of certain Native American tribes.
By this I mean that the size of the homes was not a reflection of the owner's ostentatious ways, but of the home's place at the center of life for the family. Like the aforementioned long houses, these homes were built to provide shelter from the elements, a place to prepare and cook food, and living areas where the kids and older members of the family can spend their time.
It's true that your average Joe would never be able to afford this kind of home (one house was completely self-sustained, running off of solar and wind power; that's no cheap feat). But rich or not, it takes a certain kind of mindset to find these kinds of places attractive, not only in terms of décor (how much wood paneling can you stand?), but, more importantly, in terms of the very concept of the multi-generation home.
I speak of "these people" as if I am an outsider, but this is simply out of habit. After a long stint as an anthropology major, I can't help but fall into "objective observer" mode, an outsider studying an American subculture. I hope it doesn't come off as condescending, because, while I may not be a full member of the subculture (once a flat-lander, always a flat-lander), I share many of their ideals.
I'm perfectly comfortable with being in a relationship in which I am either on equal or lesser financial footing than my girlfriend, but there's always a small part of me that would prefer to be the breadwinner. I appreciate the solitude of nature and the simple pleasures of falling asleep to the chirping of crickets and waking up to the cries of jays. And I can definitely understand the appeal of living with family.
Before my family moved into the foothills, we largely lived with my grandparents. Looking back, I can see how this was probably not the most ideal situation for my parents, at least by today's societal standards. On the TV show "Everybody Loves Raymond," Ray and Debra had probably forgotten the meaning of privacy, and their parents lived across the street. Imagine living with your parents. Kiss your "us time" goodbye! And while you're tossin' stuff out, you can ditch your "me time" as well.
But to my brother and me it just felt natural (my sister was too young to remember it, I believe). If Mom and Dad weren't home, then certainly Grandma and Grandpa would be. My grandparents were able to fill in the "gaps" in parenting that my parents left. It's not that my parents were bad at parenting. In all truth, I couldn't have asked for a better pair. I just mean that my grandparents were more experienced (raising six kids will do that to you).
Regardless, I think knowing that someone will always be there for you (whether it's a parent, grandparent, aunt or uncle) gives you a sense of security and stability. As anyone who's taken a child development class will tell you, those are two extremely important factors in a child's maturation. It's probably why I turned out as confident as I am, despite the fact that I'm a total geek. Whether this is true or not, I think living in a multi-generation home felt so natural because it is natural. The human race has lived in such a way for most of its existence. Much of Asia, Latin America, and Africa are still living in this manner.
For many of us living in the US and Europe, the thought of giving up so much privacy is an uncomfortable notion. It's only natural in individualistic societies in which the nuclear family (or at least a broken form of it) has become the standard. Living on our own affords us a sense of accomplishment, I suppose, and allows us to say, "See? I can do it. I'm my own person."
But is that really necessary? Look at the state of things. People seem to simultaneously have too much free time to focus on themselves (because they're on their own) and not enough time to relax and spend time with their kids (because of the realities of today's economic climate). As a result we have a multitude of broken families with children who simply don't receive the love and care that they need.
Perhaps it's time to rethink things. While I believe that individualism is not inherently bad, I also think that it can (and often does) get out of hand. Take a look at the people in the cars around you next time you're caught in traffic. Odds are pretty good that they look at least a little pissed (even the one in the rear-view mirror). Wouldn't they be happier if they had a large and loving family to go home to? Wouldn't they be a little less self-absorbed if they were constantly reminded that the universe did not revolve around them, even if it meant sacrificing a little privacy?
Can the majority of the world be wrong? Why not take a good look at what they've got going for them? Sure, they can learn a lot from us, especially in terms of the technological leaps we've made. But as we leapt forward we left some things behind: our families, and the satisfaction of having a true home.
I was channel surfing before bed tonight when I happened upon a show called "Amazing Log Homes." Sounds a little silly, I know, but it fascinated me.
For one thing, it was on HGTV, a channel I rarely pay attention to. After all, I don't own a home (let alone a garden) and won't be able to afford one any time soon (if at all).
To put it another way, I don't fall into the demographic that typically watches this network. If you know anything about TV, you probably know that you'll see different commercials depending on what type of show you're watching, what time of day it is, and what network it's on. The commercials I saw while watching this show were not the ones I was used to watching, but they described a life I was very familiar with.
Much of my childhood was spent in a relatively small town in the foothills of the Sierra Nevadas. Small towns attract a certain kind of person, especially towns in the mountains. The people are more open, probably because privacy is in shorter supply than it is in a large city. They're also simpler, not in terms of intellect but rather in terms of their expectations and desires.
These are white people generally (at least in my hometown), some of which are a bit . . .earthy, shall we say? These are folks who use words like "folks," who go to church, and believe that men should be the providers and women should be the homemakers. These people buy American, listen to country music, and furnish their homes with animal heads. And the commercials reflected that.
The show reflected it as well. Notice that the title of the show is not "Amazing Log Houses." That's not by mistake. These were homes in the truest sense of the word. Many of these buildings were massive, built to house not simply a nuclear family, but multiple generations of family. They were built to last, homes to be passed from generation to generation (one owner said his home was built to last 500 years). Despite their size, most of the homes failed to evoke a feeling of excess or frivolity. They were akin to the American West version of a castle, or the long houses of certain Native American tribes.
By this I mean that the size of the homes was not a reflection of the owner's ostentatious ways, but of the home's place at the center of life for the family. Like the aforementioned long houses, these homes were built to provide shelter from the elements, a place to prepare and cook food, and living areas where the kids and older members of the family can spend their time.
It's true that your average Joe would never be able to afford this kind of home (one house was completely self-sustained, running off of solar and wind power; that's no cheap feat). But rich or not, it takes a certain kind of mindset to find these kinds of places attractive, not only in terms of décor (how much wood paneling can you stand?), but, more importantly, in terms of the very concept of the multi-generation home.
I speak of "these people" as if I am an outsider, but this is simply out of habit. After a long stint as an anthropology major, I can't help but fall into "objective observer" mode, an outsider studying an American subculture. I hope it doesn't come off as condescending, because, while I may not be a full member of the subculture (once a flat-lander, always a flat-lander), I share many of their ideals.
I'm perfectly comfortable with being in a relationship in which I am either on equal or lesser financial footing than my girlfriend, but there's always a small part of me that would prefer to be the breadwinner. I appreciate the solitude of nature and the simple pleasures of falling asleep to the chirping of crickets and waking up to the cries of jays. And I can definitely understand the appeal of living with family.
Before my family moved into the foothills, we largely lived with my grandparents. Looking back, I can see how this was probably not the most ideal situation for my parents, at least by today's societal standards. On the TV show "Everybody Loves Raymond," Ray and Debra had probably forgotten the meaning of privacy, and their parents lived across the street. Imagine living with your parents. Kiss your "us time" goodbye! And while you're tossin' stuff out, you can ditch your "me time" as well.
But to my brother and me it just felt natural (my sister was too young to remember it, I believe). If Mom and Dad weren't home, then certainly Grandma and Grandpa would be. My grandparents were able to fill in the "gaps" in parenting that my parents left. It's not that my parents were bad at parenting. In all truth, I couldn't have asked for a better pair. I just mean that my grandparents were more experienced (raising six kids will do that to you).
Regardless, I think knowing that someone will always be there for you (whether it's a parent, grandparent, aunt or uncle) gives you a sense of security and stability. As anyone who's taken a child development class will tell you, those are two extremely important factors in a child's maturation. It's probably why I turned out as confident as I am, despite the fact that I'm a total geek. Whether this is true or not, I think living in a multi-generation home felt so natural because it is natural. The human race has lived in such a way for most of its existence. Much of Asia, Latin America, and Africa are still living in this manner.
For many of us living in the US and Europe, the thought of giving up so much privacy is an uncomfortable notion. It's only natural in individualistic societies in which the nuclear family (or at least a broken form of it) has become the standard. Living on our own affords us a sense of accomplishment, I suppose, and allows us to say, "See? I can do it. I'm my own person."
But is that really necessary? Look at the state of things. People seem to simultaneously have too much free time to focus on themselves (because they're on their own) and not enough time to relax and spend time with their kids (because of the realities of today's economic climate). As a result we have a multitude of broken families with children who simply don't receive the love and care that they need.
Perhaps it's time to rethink things. While I believe that individualism is not inherently bad, I also think that it can (and often does) get out of hand. Take a look at the people in the cars around you next time you're caught in traffic. Odds are pretty good that they look at least a little pissed (even the one in the rear-view mirror). Wouldn't they be happier if they had a large and loving family to go home to? Wouldn't they be a little less self-absorbed if they were constantly reminded that the universe did not revolve around them, even if it meant sacrificing a little privacy?
Can the majority of the world be wrong? Why not take a good look at what they've got going for them? Sure, they can learn a lot from us, especially in terms of the technological leaps we've made. But as we leapt forward we left some things behind: our families, and the satisfaction of having a true home.
Lady's Limerick
Just because I'm bored.
There once was a man from California
Who thought it'd be prudent to warn ya
If you dress like a ho
Wherever you go
Ain't nobody gonna respect ya.
There once was a man from California
Who thought it'd be prudent to warn ya
If you dress like a ho
Wherever you go
Ain't nobody gonna respect ya.
Introducing The Quote of the Day
In order to keep things interesting around here, I've decided to implement "The Quote of the Day" here in the Garden. Each day that I don't release a blog will at least have a quote of some sort. I've been collecting quotes for years, so I've got a variety of quotes to make you laugh, think, etc.
So come by once a day to see what's up. I'll continue to post links on Facebook when I actually write something (become a fan of The Octopus's Garden on Facebook if you haven't already!), but I won't bother for the quotes.
As always, feel free to comment. It lets me know two things: 1. I get to know your thoughts on an issue (something that is important to me, because I like getting involved in discussions). 2. I get to feel like I actually have an audience. Sometimes I feel like Dr. Ian Malcolm from Jurassic Park: "See, here I'm now sitting by myself, uh, er, talking to myself." (That wasn't the quote of the day.)
Quote for January 24th, 2010:
"War is God's way of teaching Americans geography." --Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914)
So come by once a day to see what's up. I'll continue to post links on Facebook when I actually write something (become a fan of The Octopus's Garden on Facebook if you haven't already!), but I won't bother for the quotes.
As always, feel free to comment. It lets me know two things: 1. I get to know your thoughts on an issue (something that is important to me, because I like getting involved in discussions). 2. I get to feel like I actually have an audience. Sometimes I feel like Dr. Ian Malcolm from Jurassic Park: "See, here I'm now sitting by myself, uh, er, talking to myself." (That wasn't the quote of the day.)
Quote for January 24th, 2010:
"War is God's way of teaching Americans geography." --Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914)
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
The Bastard: 50 Ways To Be a Special Roommate
In honor of my obnoxious roommate (who seems to be slowly moving out!), I give you this list, originally published on January 6th, 2009.
1. Take your roommate’s shit without asking. They’ll appreciate the lack of clutter that you’ve helped them achieve.
2. Use all the hot water. It loosens up the skin, so your roomies will thank you for the tight, firm skin provided by the ice-cold water they will be forced to use after you’ve finished creating your own personal sauna.
3. If you have a significant other, do your best to scream at them on a daily basis. This will provide a sense of structure to your roommate’s day, providing joy and comfort. Makes sure the arguments are completely superfluous and imbecilic. And don’t forget: you can never be loud enough!
4. Eat whatever you want out of the fridge. This will help them eat less, keeping them slim and in shape. Make sure not to replace it! That would defeat the purpose.
5. Never leave the house. Your roommates will appreciate your constant presence.
6. Anticipate your roommate’s actions. If you think they’re heading for the tiny kitchen you share, get there first. If you think they want to do laundry, sneak a load in before them.
7. Speaking of laundry, do it every day. Every day! If possible, do it while they are in the shower, stealing the modicum of hot water that you may have accidentally left after your own shower.
8. Buy annoying pets that bark at the slightest provocation and piss on your roommate’s bed. The urine is essential to making them feel like a part of the family.
9. If your roommates have pets, make sure your pet eats as much of their food as possible. I recommend not feeding your own pet to facilitate this.
10. Invite your friends to stay over for indefinite periods of time. Your roommates will appreciate the extra company and thank you for introducing them to new and exciting homeless people.
11. Speaking of which, make obnoxious friends, and bring them over constantly. This will keep your roommates on their toes, helping to keep their minds nimble.
12. Buy a small refrigerator and freezer, then stuff it as full as you can. See #4 for reasoning.
13. Leave your stuff everywhere. Does your roommate have a bookshelf in the living room? Put picture frames on it. Do they have their own bathroom? Put some random nick-knacks in it, despite never using it.
14. Remember: toilet paper is evil. Take one for the team and use as much as possible to save them from a papery death. Never offer to replace the thin little bits of evil, but if you must, buy single-ply. And remember, the texture you’re aiming for is sandpaper.
15. Keep the door locked at all times, even when you’re home. You never know when that serial rapist might come around. This is especially essential if your roommates have gone shopping at Costco.
16. When cooking, never clean your mess. Roommates, by nature, love to clean, especially other people’s messes. A filthy kitchen is to a roommate what crack is to a crackhead.
17. If you borrow a movie, make sure not to return it. Leave them lying around the house. Roommates love a scavenger hunt.
18. If your roommate is a recovering alcoholic, do your best to drink in front of them as much as possible. This will strengthen their willpower.
19. Leave all the lights on that you can. Leave up (and use!) your Christmas lights until mid-June. (If your roommate is the aforementioned alcoholic, this will help them stay too broke to afford to fall off the wagon.)
20. In winter, keep the thermostat at a mild 85 degrees. In summer, 55 should do nicely.
21. If you get up before your roommates, be as loud as you can. Stand outside their door and loudly talk on your cell phone, slam cupboard doors, or yell at your dog to be quiet. And please, think of this as the perfect time for one of those loud fights with your significant other.
22. Remember: the sound of slamming doors is like the laughter of children to a roommate’s ears.
23. Buy as much useless crap as you can, then spread it all over the house. Nothing livens up the living room like an empty Corona bottle piñata.
24. Never get the mail. If you can, throw out or hide their credit card statements. They're stressful!
25. Buy four cars. The lack of parking will encourage your roommates to buy bikes, thus helping them stay fit. Fill your garage with boxes if you have to.
26. Use whatever you want, whenever you want. Asking is for pussies.
27. Never forget the first rule of roommates: Mi underwear es su underwear.
28. Leave your cat’s vomit on the floor for at least a month. Ask it to pay rent.
29. Move their shit around. Tell them a ghost did it.
30. Watch movies in the middle of the night. Make sure that subwoofer is turned up all the way! It will rumble them to sleep like wee little babies.
31. Use their wardrobe to soak up the oil on the driveway. They need new clothes anyway.
32. Do your best to interrupt them during coitus/masturbation as much as possible. It adds adventure to their experience.
33. Are your roommates allergic to pollen? Sounds like someone needs a get-well bouquet!
34. Have Tivo? Delete their shows. That’s what repeats are for. Besides, it’ll give them time to finish that book they’ve been reading.
35. Break something, then throw it out. Deny all knowledge of said item.
36. Never, under any circumstances, break down cardboard boxes before putting them in the recycling or trash.
37. Never take a crap in your own bathroom. That's what their bathroom is for. (Remember #14?)
38. Buy them something they hate, then act hurt when they thank you in an obviously insincere manner.
39. Change the locks. Forget to give them a copy of the new key. The best time for this is winter.
40. Use all the milk. When asked to buy more, conveniently “forget” to do so until they get fed up and buy it themselves.
41. Over the course of the year, slowly steal money out of their change jar.
42. Have sex with your door open. When they pass by, call them a pervert. Or invite them in. If they agree, ask them how they feel about being anally penetrated by large household items.
43. If your roommate is single, set him up on a date with the ugliest friend you can find. Forget to tell him that “Shannon” is actually a dude.
44. Institute casual Fridays. Wear nothing but flip-flops.
45. When watching the game, flip to Lifetime during the most crucial moment. Tell them you need a quick, cleansing cry.
46. Have pink eye? Fart on their pillow.
47. Put up a live webcam in their room. Neglect to tell them.
48. Sneak into their room to watch them sleep. If they wake up and freak out, tell them they never minded before. Pants optional.
49. Use their computer to look at porn sites. When asked, deny all knowledge of hornyseptuagenarianbeastlovers.com.
50. Never, ever treat them like a human being worthy of compassion and respect. All roommates are masochists. Otherwise, why the hell would they be living with you?
1. Take your roommate’s shit without asking. They’ll appreciate the lack of clutter that you’ve helped them achieve.
2. Use all the hot water. It loosens up the skin, so your roomies will thank you for the tight, firm skin provided by the ice-cold water they will be forced to use after you’ve finished creating your own personal sauna.
3. If you have a significant other, do your best to scream at them on a daily basis. This will provide a sense of structure to your roommate’s day, providing joy and comfort. Makes sure the arguments are completely superfluous and imbecilic. And don’t forget: you can never be loud enough!
4. Eat whatever you want out of the fridge. This will help them eat less, keeping them slim and in shape. Make sure not to replace it! That would defeat the purpose.
5. Never leave the house. Your roommates will appreciate your constant presence.
6. Anticipate your roommate’s actions. If you think they’re heading for the tiny kitchen you share, get there first. If you think they want to do laundry, sneak a load in before them.
7. Speaking of laundry, do it every day. Every day! If possible, do it while they are in the shower, stealing the modicum of hot water that you may have accidentally left after your own shower.
8. Buy annoying pets that bark at the slightest provocation and piss on your roommate’s bed. The urine is essential to making them feel like a part of the family.
9. If your roommates have pets, make sure your pet eats as much of their food as possible. I recommend not feeding your own pet to facilitate this.
10. Invite your friends to stay over for indefinite periods of time. Your roommates will appreciate the extra company and thank you for introducing them to new and exciting homeless people.
11. Speaking of which, make obnoxious friends, and bring them over constantly. This will keep your roommates on their toes, helping to keep their minds nimble.
12. Buy a small refrigerator and freezer, then stuff it as full as you can. See #4 for reasoning.
13. Leave your stuff everywhere. Does your roommate have a bookshelf in the living room? Put picture frames on it. Do they have their own bathroom? Put some random nick-knacks in it, despite never using it.
14. Remember: toilet paper is evil. Take one for the team and use as much as possible to save them from a papery death. Never offer to replace the thin little bits of evil, but if you must, buy single-ply. And remember, the texture you’re aiming for is sandpaper.
15. Keep the door locked at all times, even when you’re home. You never know when that serial rapist might come around. This is especially essential if your roommates have gone shopping at Costco.
16. When cooking, never clean your mess. Roommates, by nature, love to clean, especially other people’s messes. A filthy kitchen is to a roommate what crack is to a crackhead.
17. If you borrow a movie, make sure not to return it. Leave them lying around the house. Roommates love a scavenger hunt.
18. If your roommate is a recovering alcoholic, do your best to drink in front of them as much as possible. This will strengthen their willpower.
19. Leave all the lights on that you can. Leave up (and use!) your Christmas lights until mid-June. (If your roommate is the aforementioned alcoholic, this will help them stay too broke to afford to fall off the wagon.)
20. In winter, keep the thermostat at a mild 85 degrees. In summer, 55 should do nicely.
21. If you get up before your roommates, be as loud as you can. Stand outside their door and loudly talk on your cell phone, slam cupboard doors, or yell at your dog to be quiet. And please, think of this as the perfect time for one of those loud fights with your significant other.
22. Remember: the sound of slamming doors is like the laughter of children to a roommate’s ears.
23. Buy as much useless crap as you can, then spread it all over the house. Nothing livens up the living room like an empty Corona bottle piñata.
24. Never get the mail. If you can, throw out or hide their credit card statements. They're stressful!
25. Buy four cars. The lack of parking will encourage your roommates to buy bikes, thus helping them stay fit. Fill your garage with boxes if you have to.
26. Use whatever you want, whenever you want. Asking is for pussies.
27. Never forget the first rule of roommates: Mi underwear es su underwear.
28. Leave your cat’s vomit on the floor for at least a month. Ask it to pay rent.
29. Move their shit around. Tell them a ghost did it.
30. Watch movies in the middle of the night. Make sure that subwoofer is turned up all the way! It will rumble them to sleep like wee little babies.
31. Use their wardrobe to soak up the oil on the driveway. They need new clothes anyway.
32. Do your best to interrupt them during coitus/masturbation as much as possible. It adds adventure to their experience.
33. Are your roommates allergic to pollen? Sounds like someone needs a get-well bouquet!
34. Have Tivo? Delete their shows. That’s what repeats are for. Besides, it’ll give them time to finish that book they’ve been reading.
35. Break something, then throw it out. Deny all knowledge of said item.
36. Never, under any circumstances, break down cardboard boxes before putting them in the recycling or trash.
37. Never take a crap in your own bathroom. That's what their bathroom is for. (Remember #14?)
38. Buy them something they hate, then act hurt when they thank you in an obviously insincere manner.
39. Change the locks. Forget to give them a copy of the new key. The best time for this is winter.
40. Use all the milk. When asked to buy more, conveniently “forget” to do so until they get fed up and buy it themselves.
41. Over the course of the year, slowly steal money out of their change jar.
42. Have sex with your door open. When they pass by, call them a pervert. Or invite them in. If they agree, ask them how they feel about being anally penetrated by large household items.
43. If your roommate is single, set him up on a date with the ugliest friend you can find. Forget to tell him that “Shannon” is actually a dude.
44. Institute casual Fridays. Wear nothing but flip-flops.
45. When watching the game, flip to Lifetime during the most crucial moment. Tell them you need a quick, cleansing cry.
46. Have pink eye? Fart on their pillow.
47. Put up a live webcam in their room. Neglect to tell them.
48. Sneak into their room to watch them sleep. If they wake up and freak out, tell them they never minded before. Pants optional.
49. Use their computer to look at porn sites. When asked, deny all knowledge of hornyseptuagenarianbeastlovers.com.
50. Never, ever treat them like a human being worthy of compassion and respect. All roommates are masochists. Otherwise, why the hell would they be living with you?
Introducing Polymathic J
Well, I've introduced The Buddhist & The Bastard, but I never really introduced myself. So, in the interest of rectifying that (and because I haven't had much time to write lately), I give you "25 Random Things About Me," something that was circulating around Facebook a year ago (this was originally released January 31st, 2009). I suppose this means that most of you have already read it, but there are finally at least a few people reading this blog who don't know me at all (woo-hoo!), so this one's for you guys. Thanks for the support. Hope it amuses you.
Oh, and for those of you who know me, just refer to me as J here in the Garden. No need for people to know too much about my crazy ass.
I hear undead syphilitic hookers will devour my friends and family if I don’t join in on this thing, so here goes. So if I tagged you in this (Facebook users), you're supposed to make your own list. But don't feel obligated. I'm sure your loved ones will enjoy being VD-carrying zombies.
1. I have 20/800 vision in my right eye and 20/850 in my left. Let’s put this in perspective: Find something 800 feet away. See how blurry that is? That’s how clearly I see something 20 feet away. And that’s my good eye. I’m so blind that I’ve only met one person who has vision worse than me, and he was legally blind (no joke).
2. I make a list every year of all the books I read. I hear my Grandma did this too, although I struck upon the idea independently. Last year’s total: 7 (by far an all-time low). This year’s total thus far: 5.
3. I’m afraid of heights. This does not stop me from wanting to skydive, although I imagine I’d need help out of the door. And I’d probably piss myself. Sorry instructor guy.
4. I miss California immensely, and my home town even more so. I miss living in the woods.
5. I believe that Coke is the nectar of the gods (Screw ambrosia! Who even knows what that is?!). Give me a Pepsi when I ask for a Coke, and you risk losing an eye.
6. I believe that, when viewed objectively, sex is just about the silliest act one can commit. This does not stop me from enjoying it.
7. Speaking of sex, if I was forced to have hairy man-sex, I’d probably pick Colin Ferguson (he plays Sheriff Carter on the show Eureka) to be my first. He seems like he’d be gentle. That said, I’d much prefer some alone time with his castmate, Salli Richardson. What a babe!
8. I love all things Anthony Bourdain. If you have the Travel Channel and aren't watching No Reservations (Monday nights!) then you should be thrown in jail. Just finished his book, Kitchen Confidential, and loved every second of it. I seriously don’t recall ever laughing out loud so much while reading. In fact, on one occasion I literally had to bite my fingers to keep from waking my girlfriend.
9. Speaking of my girlfriend, she is the best. I’m totally retarded for her.
10. I believe that everyone (but especially the wealthy) should be forced to live off of a crappy job like Pizza Hut for at least a year or two. I think the world would be a kinder place as a result.
11. I have a relatively large tattoo on my back, and hope to one day have the money to get the rest of it covered (my back, not the tattoo).
12. My dream is to write a book. If it gets published and you don’t buy it, I will come find you.
13. I think the phrase “drugs and alcohol” is a farce. I’m sorry to inform you that if you honestly believe that alcohol is not a drug, well, you’re a moron.
14. If I had three wishes, one of them would probably be spent on going back in time and convincing myself that no, that mullet does not look good on me. In fact, I’d just buy myself a new wardrobe (and glasses). And then I’d chastise my parents for allowing me to walk around looking like the world’s biggest dork. Never let anyone tell you that personality doesn’t go a long way, because I never would have had girlfriends if it didn’t.
15. If forced to choose between saving a drowning dog and a drowning human, I honestly don’t know who would get saved. This should tell you three things. 1. I love animals. 2. I don’t have much respect for humans. 3. You should really learn to swim.
16. I love the Niners and Sharks. They make September through May/June worth living through (although it does get a bit depressing seeing the Niners suck and the Sharks lose in the second round every year). The absence of football and hockey is one of the reasons I’m not a fan of summer.
17. I think Hawaii is the most overrated vacation destination of all time. Been there twice, was unimpressed both times (although snorkeling in Cook’s Cove was, admittedly, a hell of a lot of fun). Want a better tropical destination? Try Costa Rica. It’s probably cheaper, too.
18. I finally got to visit Italy a little over a year ago. I fell in love with Venice. If I’m ever filthy rich, I’m totally buying an apartment there. Preferably on the top floor. And Michelangelo’s David? The most awe-inspiring work of art I have ever witnessed with my own two eyes. It’s perfection almost (almost!) brought tears to my eyes.
19. I love America, but anyone who says we’re the greatest country in the world has never been out of this country. We’ve got a great country, and it may be the one you prefer above all others, but it is definitely a fixer-upper in need of a lot of work.
20. I like cupcakes.
21. I am an unrepentant geek. I love comics, Harry Potter, and Firefly. Wanna fight about it?
22. The Beatles are unquestionably my favorite group of all time. Despite that, my favorite genre of music is hip-hop. This honky got some soul, na’mean? (For you crackers in the crowd, that means “Do you understand what I mean, fine ladies and distinguished gentlemen?” And yes, I use it ironically. Have you seen me?! I’m practically an albino!)
23. I am, on rare occasions, a smart ass. (wink, wink)
24. I am, on frequent occasions, a pompous ass.
25. I believe the fact that I only got about 5 ½ hours of sleep last night may have slightly affected the tone of this list.
Oh, and for those of you who know me, just refer to me as J here in the Garden. No need for people to know too much about my crazy ass.
I hear undead syphilitic hookers will devour my friends and family if I don’t join in on this thing, so here goes. So if I tagged you in this (Facebook users), you're supposed to make your own list. But don't feel obligated. I'm sure your loved ones will enjoy being VD-carrying zombies.
1. I have 20/800 vision in my right eye and 20/850 in my left. Let’s put this in perspective: Find something 800 feet away. See how blurry that is? That’s how clearly I see something 20 feet away. And that’s my good eye. I’m so blind that I’ve only met one person who has vision worse than me, and he was legally blind (no joke).
2. I make a list every year of all the books I read. I hear my Grandma did this too, although I struck upon the idea independently. Last year’s total: 7 (by far an all-time low). This year’s total thus far: 5.
3. I’m afraid of heights. This does not stop me from wanting to skydive, although I imagine I’d need help out of the door. And I’d probably piss myself. Sorry instructor guy.
4. I miss California immensely, and my home town even more so. I miss living in the woods.
5. I believe that Coke is the nectar of the gods (Screw ambrosia! Who even knows what that is?!). Give me a Pepsi when I ask for a Coke, and you risk losing an eye.
6. I believe that, when viewed objectively, sex is just about the silliest act one can commit. This does not stop me from enjoying it.
7. Speaking of sex, if I was forced to have hairy man-sex, I’d probably pick Colin Ferguson (he plays Sheriff Carter on the show Eureka) to be my first. He seems like he’d be gentle. That said, I’d much prefer some alone time with his castmate, Salli Richardson. What a babe!
8. I love all things Anthony Bourdain. If you have the Travel Channel and aren't watching No Reservations (Monday nights!) then you should be thrown in jail. Just finished his book, Kitchen Confidential, and loved every second of it. I seriously don’t recall ever laughing out loud so much while reading. In fact, on one occasion I literally had to bite my fingers to keep from waking my girlfriend.
9. Speaking of my girlfriend, she is the best. I’m totally retarded for her.
10. I believe that everyone (but especially the wealthy) should be forced to live off of a crappy job like Pizza Hut for at least a year or two. I think the world would be a kinder place as a result.
11. I have a relatively large tattoo on my back, and hope to one day have the money to get the rest of it covered (my back, not the tattoo).
12. My dream is to write a book. If it gets published and you don’t buy it, I will come find you.
13. I think the phrase “drugs and alcohol” is a farce. I’m sorry to inform you that if you honestly believe that alcohol is not a drug, well, you’re a moron.
14. If I had three wishes, one of them would probably be spent on going back in time and convincing myself that no, that mullet does not look good on me. In fact, I’d just buy myself a new wardrobe (and glasses). And then I’d chastise my parents for allowing me to walk around looking like the world’s biggest dork. Never let anyone tell you that personality doesn’t go a long way, because I never would have had girlfriends if it didn’t.
15. If forced to choose between saving a drowning dog and a drowning human, I honestly don’t know who would get saved. This should tell you three things. 1. I love animals. 2. I don’t have much respect for humans. 3. You should really learn to swim.
16. I love the Niners and Sharks. They make September through May/June worth living through (although it does get a bit depressing seeing the Niners suck and the Sharks lose in the second round every year). The absence of football and hockey is one of the reasons I’m not a fan of summer.
17. I think Hawaii is the most overrated vacation destination of all time. Been there twice, was unimpressed both times (although snorkeling in Cook’s Cove was, admittedly, a hell of a lot of fun). Want a better tropical destination? Try Costa Rica. It’s probably cheaper, too.
18. I finally got to visit Italy a little over a year ago. I fell in love with Venice. If I’m ever filthy rich, I’m totally buying an apartment there. Preferably on the top floor. And Michelangelo’s David? The most awe-inspiring work of art I have ever witnessed with my own two eyes. It’s perfection almost (almost!) brought tears to my eyes.
19. I love America, but anyone who says we’re the greatest country in the world has never been out of this country. We’ve got a great country, and it may be the one you prefer above all others, but it is definitely a fixer-upper in need of a lot of work.
20. I like cupcakes.
21. I am an unrepentant geek. I love comics, Harry Potter, and Firefly. Wanna fight about it?
22. The Beatles are unquestionably my favorite group of all time. Despite that, my favorite genre of music is hip-hop. This honky got some soul, na’mean? (For you crackers in the crowd, that means “Do you understand what I mean, fine ladies and distinguished gentlemen?” And yes, I use it ironically. Have you seen me?! I’m practically an albino!)
23. I am, on rare occasions, a smart ass. (wink, wink)
24. I am, on frequent occasions, a pompous ass.
25. I believe the fact that I only got about 5 ½ hours of sleep last night may have slightly affected the tone of this list.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Roger Goodell: Bane of the NFL
I won’t write many blogs on sports here in the Garden, but the recent news that the San Francisco 49ers will be playing a “home” game next season in London has raised my ire.
I appreciate that there are NFL fans in Europe, and I understand that it must be tough to catch games in the wee hours of the morning. Anyone who stays up until 3 or 4 in the morning watching a live NFL game is a true fan, without a doubt. However, it is unfair to send American teams across the Atlantic to play, especially when the "home" team is being robbed of home field advantage.
The simple fact of the matter is that traveling to Europe takes a physical toll that can take days or weeks to recover from, especially for a West Coast team like my Niners. I, a mere tourist, went to Italy a couple of years ago, and I didn't sleep right for 3 or 4 days once I arrived. I'd go to bed around 10-12, then find myself waking up around 2-3 in the morning, utterly unable to get back to sleep. Imagine trying to compete in a highly physical contest on a professional level while sleep deprived. That's a recipe for injury. Then there's the trip back to the US, with further sleep issues. That's at least two weeks in which the affected teams aren't getting the rest that they need in the middle of a grueling, physical season. It's just plain unfair to the athletes, not to mention dangerous.
The truth is that Roger Goodell, the commissioner of the NFL, is too busy devising ways to make extra money to care about the players or teams in his charge. He cares nothing for the players; he cares nothing for the game. If he did, he wouldn't risk the health of his players by sending them to JetLagLand. He wouldn’t be considering extending an already long and physical season to 17 or 18 games. He never would have implemented the Draconian rules that require penalties for the displays of joy that one sees from a guy like Chad Ochocinco. Some consider his antics to be the actions of an attention-seeker; I merely see a guy with genuine love for the game, and who does his best to enjoy his short time in an elite sport (and entertain the fans while he’s at it). And speaking of Chad, a commissioner who cared would have let him wear the number of his recently deceased friend and teammate, Chris Henry, for one game. Who would that have hurt? I'm actually surprised that Goodell didn't ok that idea simply so that he could sell limited-edition Ochocino #15 jerseys.
I understand that the NFL is a business and that money must be made, but, in my opinion, it is first and foremost a form of entertainment. This means that the final product is for the fans. I've got nothing against the European fans, but the fact is that there was an NFL Europe and it folded. With all due respect to those in Europe, they had their chance and it didn’t work out. Bringing US teams across the Atlantic to satisfy an enthusiastic minority is unfair to the players and fans of the teams involved. Want an NFL game in Europe? Hold the Pro Bowl there. It’s a throw away game that has no impact on the season, and features the best players in the league. Sounds like a great deal for the European fans, as well as for the players who get to go.
Holding regular season games in Europe is unfair to the "home” team involved, giving the visiting team the advantage of a neutral field. It's dangerous for the players, whose circadian rhythms are blown out of whack for at least two weeks, increasing their risk of injury. It's unfair to the fans that are robbed of a chance to watch their team play a true home game, and it’s unfair to the “expatriate” fans of the visiting team that get robbed of their once-every-eight-years chance to watch their team in person.
This is about money, plain and simple, and it disgusts me to see this blatant disregard for the teams, players, and fans that are the foundation of this league. Until Goodell’s attitude is adjusted, I fear that money, not the players or fans, will be the NFL’s priority. And that’s poor entertainment indeed.
I appreciate that there are NFL fans in Europe, and I understand that it must be tough to catch games in the wee hours of the morning. Anyone who stays up until 3 or 4 in the morning watching a live NFL game is a true fan, without a doubt. However, it is unfair to send American teams across the Atlantic to play, especially when the "home" team is being robbed of home field advantage.
The simple fact of the matter is that traveling to Europe takes a physical toll that can take days or weeks to recover from, especially for a West Coast team like my Niners. I, a mere tourist, went to Italy a couple of years ago, and I didn't sleep right for 3 or 4 days once I arrived. I'd go to bed around 10-12, then find myself waking up around 2-3 in the morning, utterly unable to get back to sleep. Imagine trying to compete in a highly physical contest on a professional level while sleep deprived. That's a recipe for injury. Then there's the trip back to the US, with further sleep issues. That's at least two weeks in which the affected teams aren't getting the rest that they need in the middle of a grueling, physical season. It's just plain unfair to the athletes, not to mention dangerous.
The truth is that Roger Goodell, the commissioner of the NFL, is too busy devising ways to make extra money to care about the players or teams in his charge. He cares nothing for the players; he cares nothing for the game. If he did, he wouldn't risk the health of his players by sending them to JetLagLand. He wouldn’t be considering extending an already long and physical season to 17 or 18 games. He never would have implemented the Draconian rules that require penalties for the displays of joy that one sees from a guy like Chad Ochocinco. Some consider his antics to be the actions of an attention-seeker; I merely see a guy with genuine love for the game, and who does his best to enjoy his short time in an elite sport (and entertain the fans while he’s at it). And speaking of Chad, a commissioner who cared would have let him wear the number of his recently deceased friend and teammate, Chris Henry, for one game. Who would that have hurt? I'm actually surprised that Goodell didn't ok that idea simply so that he could sell limited-edition Ochocino #15 jerseys.
I understand that the NFL is a business and that money must be made, but, in my opinion, it is first and foremost a form of entertainment. This means that the final product is for the fans. I've got nothing against the European fans, but the fact is that there was an NFL Europe and it folded. With all due respect to those in Europe, they had their chance and it didn’t work out. Bringing US teams across the Atlantic to satisfy an enthusiastic minority is unfair to the players and fans of the teams involved. Want an NFL game in Europe? Hold the Pro Bowl there. It’s a throw away game that has no impact on the season, and features the best players in the league. Sounds like a great deal for the European fans, as well as for the players who get to go.
Holding regular season games in Europe is unfair to the "home” team involved, giving the visiting team the advantage of a neutral field. It's dangerous for the players, whose circadian rhythms are blown out of whack for at least two weeks, increasing their risk of injury. It's unfair to the fans that are robbed of a chance to watch their team play a true home game, and it’s unfair to the “expatriate” fans of the visiting team that get robbed of their once-every-eight-years chance to watch their team in person.
This is about money, plain and simple, and it disgusts me to see this blatant disregard for the teams, players, and fans that are the foundation of this league. Until Goodell’s attitude is adjusted, I fear that money, not the players or fans, will be the NFL’s priority. And that’s poor entertainment indeed.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
I'm With Coco
Unless you’ve been living under a rock or have no internet connection (in which case I must ask, “How the hell are you reading this?!”), you’ve likely heard about NBC’s decision to move the faltering Jay Leno Show from 10 PM to 11:35. This would bump Conan’s Tonight Show from its long-standing time slot and move it to 12:05, which, as Letterman astutely noted, would make it the Tomorrow Show. This, of course, is lunacy, and Conan said as much in a statement.
Full disclosure: I don’t watch late night TV. I am, however, awake at such hours, and my occasional late night flybys of the networks have left me with the impression that the late night hosts should be ranked in the following order: David Letterman, Conan O’Brien, Jimmy Kimmel, Craig Ferguson, Jimmy Fallon, Carson Daly, whoever is on Telemundo, Johnny Carson’s corpse, a flock of retarded geese, Jay Leno.
The long and the short of it is that I don’t like Leno. Never have. I’m not sure if it’s his obnoxious voice, his Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade-sized chin or what, but he’s always gotten on my nerves. I’ve long preferred Letterman, who has been nothing short of hilarious whenever I happen to catch him. As for Conan, well, I’m a geek, so we’ve certainly got that in common. And he wrote for The Simpsons, which gets him automatic cool points in my book. And whenever I’ve caught his show, it’s been funny, intelligent, and weird. I can dig that.
Leno and NBC went out on a limb and created a show at 10 PM. I’ve never seen it, but it sounds like it blows goats. I’m assuming there’s at least one metric shit-ton of money involved with the show, so NBC is scrambling to keep it afloat, and this debacle was their answer.
Explain to me why Conan should pay because Leno screwed up? Does that seem fair to anyone? I realize that life isn’t fair (my parents assured me of this at least 15.2 billion times when I was a child), but there are certain things that simply shouldn’t be done. Those things include rewarding mediocrity, and making someone else pay for that mediocrity. This is exactly what NBC is trying to do. Conan says he won’t stand for it. I applaud him for this, and stand behind his decision.
I ask you to do the same. Voice your displeasure and sign the petition to NBC here. Tell them, "Moving Leno's unfair! Stick with the Hair!" For those of you on Facebook, join the group I'm With COCO. If you’re apathetic but like Bill Hicks, listen to him rip Jay Leno on YouTube.
I’m with Coco. Now will someone please explain to me why the hell he’s nicknamed Coco?
Full disclosure: I don’t watch late night TV. I am, however, awake at such hours, and my occasional late night flybys of the networks have left me with the impression that the late night hosts should be ranked in the following order: David Letterman, Conan O’Brien, Jimmy Kimmel, Craig Ferguson, Jimmy Fallon, Carson Daly, whoever is on Telemundo, Johnny Carson’s corpse, a flock of retarded geese, Jay Leno.
The long and the short of it is that I don’t like Leno. Never have. I’m not sure if it’s his obnoxious voice, his Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade-sized chin or what, but he’s always gotten on my nerves. I’ve long preferred Letterman, who has been nothing short of hilarious whenever I happen to catch him. As for Conan, well, I’m a geek, so we’ve certainly got that in common. And he wrote for The Simpsons, which gets him automatic cool points in my book. And whenever I’ve caught his show, it’s been funny, intelligent, and weird. I can dig that.
Leno and NBC went out on a limb and created a show at 10 PM. I’ve never seen it, but it sounds like it blows goats. I’m assuming there’s at least one metric shit-ton of money involved with the show, so NBC is scrambling to keep it afloat, and this debacle was their answer.
Explain to me why Conan should pay because Leno screwed up? Does that seem fair to anyone? I realize that life isn’t fair (my parents assured me of this at least 15.2 billion times when I was a child), but there are certain things that simply shouldn’t be done. Those things include rewarding mediocrity, and making someone else pay for that mediocrity. This is exactly what NBC is trying to do. Conan says he won’t stand for it. I applaud him for this, and stand behind his decision.
I ask you to do the same. Voice your displeasure and sign the petition to NBC here. Tell them, "Moving Leno's unfair! Stick with the Hair!" For those of you on Facebook, join the group I'm With COCO. If you’re apathetic but like Bill Hicks, listen to him rip Jay Leno on YouTube.
I’m with Coco. Now will someone please explain to me why the hell he’s nicknamed Coco?
Monday, January 11, 2010
The Bastard: Can We Just Enjoy a Movie, Please?
I have yet to see Avatar, but it looks like a visual masterpiece, if not the most compelling intellectual fair. Whether I’ve seen it or not is immaterial; I can’t help but get irked by some of the criticism I’ve heard about this movie.
The first ridiculous bit of whining that I’ve come across is that it’s a liberal anti-war movie. Say what? Whether you’re liberal or conservative, does anyone consider themselves pro-war? Think about that for a second. How much of an asshole would you have to be to complain that a movie has a message that denounces sentient beings killing one another? I think you’d have to fall into that exclusive club of nutjobs including Hitler and his Nazi cronies, Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge, and the Manson Family to think, “This whiny, liberal anti-war message just pisses me off!” Regardless of one’s affiliations and affinities, I fail to see how a human being with an ounce of compassion can be pro-war. I can’t help but hope that there’s a special ring of Hell for people who get upset about a movie with an anti-war message. Maybe one where they have to endlessly navigate minefields in the nude while it rains glass and lemon juice.
The other bit of criticism I’ve heard is that the movie is racist. These people are upset because a white man comes to the planet and acts as the savior of the naïve colored natives. Really? Really?! Why does race even enter into this equation? Would this same bit of idiocy be brought up if the main character was black, Asian, or Latino? I doubt it. To these people I say, “Look to your left. Remove chip from shoulder. Look to right. Repeat.”
This has nothing to do with the color of the main character’s skin. Nothing. Sure, you can see it that way if you’d like, but I can also see boobies in a Rorschach test if I really want to. This is the reality of the movie: a man from a technologically advanced civilization infiltrates a technologically primitive civilization, learns to appreciate their way of life, sees the error of his people’s ways, and does his best to save the natives. What matters is that he has knowledge that the blue people don’t. Without that knowledge, they stand little chance of prevailing, not because they are inferior, but because their knowledge is inferior. It’s a bit tough to go from riding animals and hunting with arrows and spears to analyzing, duplicating, and using guns and mech suits. I’ll repeat this point one more time, for the feebs in the back talking on their cell phones: the main character is able to save a race of technologically naïve natives because of his knowledge, not his skin color.
I’ve learned something recently, and it’s a lesson that took me ten years of depression to figure out: you see what you want to see. If you look at the world and want to see racism, you’re going to see it. The same goes for sexism, ageism, and antidisestablishmentarianism. Conversely, if you want to see kindness, altruism, and love, you’ll find that too. With either view you’re going to end up being wrong some of the time and end up with false positives (to borrow a medical term). For example, if you choose to take the former path, you’ll see racism that isn’t there, but if you choose the latter path, you may see kindness where there isn’t any. Given the choice (and I assure you that it is a choice), I’ll take the latter, thank you very much.
I’m tired of focusing on the negativity in the world. As a depressive, I understand that it can be hard to change the way in which one views the world. But it can be done, if imperfectly. So can we all please just sit down, shut the hell up, and allow ourselves to be entertained by a goddam movie?!
The first ridiculous bit of whining that I’ve come across is that it’s a liberal anti-war movie. Say what? Whether you’re liberal or conservative, does anyone consider themselves pro-war? Think about that for a second. How much of an asshole would you have to be to complain that a movie has a message that denounces sentient beings killing one another? I think you’d have to fall into that exclusive club of nutjobs including Hitler and his Nazi cronies, Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge, and the Manson Family to think, “This whiny, liberal anti-war message just pisses me off!” Regardless of one’s affiliations and affinities, I fail to see how a human being with an ounce of compassion can be pro-war. I can’t help but hope that there’s a special ring of Hell for people who get upset about a movie with an anti-war message. Maybe one where they have to endlessly navigate minefields in the nude while it rains glass and lemon juice.
The other bit of criticism I’ve heard is that the movie is racist. These people are upset because a white man comes to the planet and acts as the savior of the naïve colored natives. Really? Really?! Why does race even enter into this equation? Would this same bit of idiocy be brought up if the main character was black, Asian, or Latino? I doubt it. To these people I say, “Look to your left. Remove chip from shoulder. Look to right. Repeat.”
This has nothing to do with the color of the main character’s skin. Nothing. Sure, you can see it that way if you’d like, but I can also see boobies in a Rorschach test if I really want to. This is the reality of the movie: a man from a technologically advanced civilization infiltrates a technologically primitive civilization, learns to appreciate their way of life, sees the error of his people’s ways, and does his best to save the natives. What matters is that he has knowledge that the blue people don’t. Without that knowledge, they stand little chance of prevailing, not because they are inferior, but because their knowledge is inferior. It’s a bit tough to go from riding animals and hunting with arrows and spears to analyzing, duplicating, and using guns and mech suits. I’ll repeat this point one more time, for the feebs in the back talking on their cell phones: the main character is able to save a race of technologically naïve natives because of his knowledge, not his skin color.
I’ve learned something recently, and it’s a lesson that took me ten years of depression to figure out: you see what you want to see. If you look at the world and want to see racism, you’re going to see it. The same goes for sexism, ageism, and antidisestablishmentarianism. Conversely, if you want to see kindness, altruism, and love, you’ll find that too. With either view you’re going to end up being wrong some of the time and end up with false positives (to borrow a medical term). For example, if you choose to take the former path, you’ll see racism that isn’t there, but if you choose the latter path, you may see kindness where there isn’t any. Given the choice (and I assure you that it is a choice), I’ll take the latter, thank you very much.
I’m tired of focusing on the negativity in the world. As a depressive, I understand that it can be hard to change the way in which one views the world. But it can be done, if imperfectly. So can we all please just sit down, shut the hell up, and allow ourselves to be entertained by a goddam movie?!
By George: A Rebuttal
This blog was originally released on August 17th, 2008.
I won’t normally do requests in this blog, but I was asked for an opinion about this article, and couldn’t resist (and it gave me a chance to learn just enough HTML to embed that link. Yay!). The article seems to be, at least in part, a response to the new Star Wars: Clone Wars animated flick that premieres this month. Essentially, the author begs George Lucas to stop making movies.
This seems to be a popular opinion among the geek population, and it’s one I definitely understand. Many people were able to overlook the tinkering Lucas did with the original trilogy, despite the narcissistic undertones of the project. Yeah, we all hated Greedo shooting first, and adding Jabba into the first movie was ridiculous at best (what kind of mobster allows you to walk away with your kneecaps intact after you step on him?!), but the faithful were willing to put all that aside, because we were so excited to be getting a new chapter in the saga.
And after waiting over 15 long years for a new Star Wars flick, we were all treated to…Jar Jar Binks?! That’s bound to piss people off. The gut reaction from Geek Nation was a unified howl of disbelief, mingled with a side order of outrage. “How could Lucas, the master storyteller who pulled inspiration from such intellectual and cinematic greats as Joseph Campbell and Akira Kurosawa, deliver to us this corny, over-rendered CGI ball of cheese?” complained the geek masses.
Apparently, they’d never really seen the first three movies. They’re just as corny, people. Can you seriously tell me that you can listen to Luke whine about “going to Tashi Station to pick up some power converters” and not feel the need to whack him upside the head with a decommissioned lightsaber? As Bilbo Bagshot (the sage who runs the Fantasy Bazaar comic shop on the show Spaced) once said, is Jar Jar any worse than those fuzzy little Ewoks? Not really. I think that we were treated to a perfect storm of events that revealed Lucas for what he really is: an old-fashioned cornball.
Let’s take a look at some of the projects Lucas has given the world. Original Star Wars trilogy? Corny, but good. Indiana Jones movies? Cheesy, but entertaining (he survived jumping out of a plane by riding an inflatable boat, for God’s sake!). Willow? I love it, but everyone else seems to loathe it for some reason. It’s filled with corny moments nonetheless. Then there are shows like The Ewok Adventure, and the Star Wars Holiday Special (which featured Chewbacca on his home planet of Kashyyyk). I mean, the name of his planet has 3 y’s in it. What part about Lucas’s cornball status is in question here?
All the last trilogy did was expose George for good. The cornball factor was less apparent in his other movies, but the leaps in technology that have been made since have allowed even Lucas’s cheesiest ideas to see fruition. C-3PO “losing his head” on Geonosis in Attack of the Clones is a prime example (Hell, the title “Attack of the Clones” is a prime example, although it has nothing to do with updated tech).
The real question people should be asking themselves is, “Is cheesy really that bad?” True, I’ve always enjoyed self-aware cheesiness (called camp, for the uninitiated) more than the accidental sort, but is there really that much of a difference between the two? You’re still getting cheese.
No, I think the real problem is that this latest trilogy was missing the one thing that the majority of geeks have lost since the first trilogy. No, not their virginity (they’re “saving” that for the girl who will dress up for them as Slave Girl Leia). I’m talking about their sense of childhood wonder. When you’re a kid almost nothing seems corny, so we accepted Ewoks and whiny saviors alike. But as jaded and cynical adults (who, even worse, are sexually frustrated), they are no longer willing or able to overlook the corny parts and enjoy the whole.
Lucas has created an entire universe. To simply attempt such a feat takes some serious cajones. Yes, there are corny patches, but the story as a whole is extremely satisfying. Don’t think this is just about the movies. The original trilogy is great, the second is fine, but the real meat of Lucas’s universe isn’t on the silver screen. It’s in the myriad books and comics that have come since the “Holy Trinity” was released.
Anyone who’s read Timothy Zahn’s Thrawn Trilogy (which stars Luke, Leia and the gang and takes place after Jedi) will tell you they would have much rather seen it made into movies than The Phantom Menace and its two buddies. Anyone who has read the comic book Knights of the Old Republic and seen its wonderfully detailed art will tell you that it blows The Ewok Adventure out of the water.
The reason behind this is simple: these were written by actual writers. Lucas is not a writer; he is an idea man. I know, because we can smell our own kind. Idea men may write and produce works that capture the imagination, but the actual writing is usually adequate at best. Just look at the dialogue in any Star Wars movie. It’s as wooden as R2’s ancient ancestors. But the world he has created is as real and varied as our own. Lucas had created one of the greatest playgrounds in all of creation, and a multitude of writers and artists have made the most of it.
So let’s give old George a break. Instead of acting like spoiled kids on Christmas who didn't get the present they wanted, instead of mocking him for his bad dialogue and cheesy writing, we should be thanking him for creating a place where talented writers and artists can go to let loose and express themselves. I hope that one day I may find myself in such a position, disgruntled geeks and all.
I won’t normally do requests in this blog, but I was asked for an opinion about this article, and couldn’t resist (and it gave me a chance to learn just enough HTML to embed that link. Yay!). The article seems to be, at least in part, a response to the new Star Wars: Clone Wars animated flick that premieres this month. Essentially, the author begs George Lucas to stop making movies.
This seems to be a popular opinion among the geek population, and it’s one I definitely understand. Many people were able to overlook the tinkering Lucas did with the original trilogy, despite the narcissistic undertones of the project. Yeah, we all hated Greedo shooting first, and adding Jabba into the first movie was ridiculous at best (what kind of mobster allows you to walk away with your kneecaps intact after you step on him?!), but the faithful were willing to put all that aside, because we were so excited to be getting a new chapter in the saga.
And after waiting over 15 long years for a new Star Wars flick, we were all treated to…Jar Jar Binks?! That’s bound to piss people off. The gut reaction from Geek Nation was a unified howl of disbelief, mingled with a side order of outrage. “How could Lucas, the master storyteller who pulled inspiration from such intellectual and cinematic greats as Joseph Campbell and Akira Kurosawa, deliver to us this corny, over-rendered CGI ball of cheese?” complained the geek masses.
Apparently, they’d never really seen the first three movies. They’re just as corny, people. Can you seriously tell me that you can listen to Luke whine about “going to Tashi Station to pick up some power converters” and not feel the need to whack him upside the head with a decommissioned lightsaber? As Bilbo Bagshot (the sage who runs the Fantasy Bazaar comic shop on the show Spaced) once said, is Jar Jar any worse than those fuzzy little Ewoks? Not really. I think that we were treated to a perfect storm of events that revealed Lucas for what he really is: an old-fashioned cornball.
Let’s take a look at some of the projects Lucas has given the world. Original Star Wars trilogy? Corny, but good. Indiana Jones movies? Cheesy, but entertaining (he survived jumping out of a plane by riding an inflatable boat, for God’s sake!). Willow? I love it, but everyone else seems to loathe it for some reason. It’s filled with corny moments nonetheless. Then there are shows like The Ewok Adventure, and the Star Wars Holiday Special (which featured Chewbacca on his home planet of Kashyyyk). I mean, the name of his planet has 3 y’s in it. What part about Lucas’s cornball status is in question here?
All the last trilogy did was expose George for good. The cornball factor was less apparent in his other movies, but the leaps in technology that have been made since have allowed even Lucas’s cheesiest ideas to see fruition. C-3PO “losing his head” on Geonosis in Attack of the Clones is a prime example (Hell, the title “Attack of the Clones” is a prime example, although it has nothing to do with updated tech).
The real question people should be asking themselves is, “Is cheesy really that bad?” True, I’ve always enjoyed self-aware cheesiness (called camp, for the uninitiated) more than the accidental sort, but is there really that much of a difference between the two? You’re still getting cheese.
No, I think the real problem is that this latest trilogy was missing the one thing that the majority of geeks have lost since the first trilogy. No, not their virginity (they’re “saving” that for the girl who will dress up for them as Slave Girl Leia). I’m talking about their sense of childhood wonder. When you’re a kid almost nothing seems corny, so we accepted Ewoks and whiny saviors alike. But as jaded and cynical adults (who, even worse, are sexually frustrated), they are no longer willing or able to overlook the corny parts and enjoy the whole.
Lucas has created an entire universe. To simply attempt such a feat takes some serious cajones. Yes, there are corny patches, but the story as a whole is extremely satisfying. Don’t think this is just about the movies. The original trilogy is great, the second is fine, but the real meat of Lucas’s universe isn’t on the silver screen. It’s in the myriad books and comics that have come since the “Holy Trinity” was released.
Anyone who’s read Timothy Zahn’s Thrawn Trilogy (which stars Luke, Leia and the gang and takes place after Jedi) will tell you they would have much rather seen it made into movies than The Phantom Menace and its two buddies. Anyone who has read the comic book Knights of the Old Republic and seen its wonderfully detailed art will tell you that it blows The Ewok Adventure out of the water.
The reason behind this is simple: these were written by actual writers. Lucas is not a writer; he is an idea man. I know, because we can smell our own kind. Idea men may write and produce works that capture the imagination, but the actual writing is usually adequate at best. Just look at the dialogue in any Star Wars movie. It’s as wooden as R2’s ancient ancestors. But the world he has created is as real and varied as our own. Lucas had created one of the greatest playgrounds in all of creation, and a multitude of writers and artists have made the most of it.
So let’s give old George a break. Instead of acting like spoiled kids on Christmas who didn't get the present they wanted, instead of mocking him for his bad dialogue and cheesy writing, we should be thanking him for creating a place where talented writers and artists can go to let loose and express themselves. I hope that one day I may find myself in such a position, disgruntled geeks and all.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
The Buddhist: Meaninglessness & Its Meaning*
This is a slightly modified version of a blog originally written on July 26th, 2008.
I was lying in bed late one night, trying to wrap my brain around the meaning of existence, when I was confronted with the enormity of the universe. Its vastness in both time and space is truly incomprehensible to the human mind, but that didn't stop me from trying to understand it.
Let's put down our burgers and remotes and think about this for a second. One hundred years ago, our use of electricity was still in its infancy and Ford had only been making cars for about five years. Go back one thousand years (a period of time already hard to grasp), and the Roman Empire had been dead for over five hundred years and it'd be nearly another five hundred until Columbus "discovers" the Americas. Ten thousand years ago, there was not a written word to be found on the face of the planet. Jump back four to eight million years and you get our ancestral line breaking off from our nearest relatives, the chimps and bonobos.
Fewer than ten million years into the past and *poof* any sign of man is gone. Go back sixty-five million years and you'll see the end of the dinosaurs. About four billions years in the past, and you'll get the beginnings of life on this planet. Another five hundred million years or so will get you the formation of the Earth, and even that is only in the most recent third of the universe's estimated 13.73 billion years of existence.
13.73 billion years. In an industrialized nation such as the US, your average individual is going to have a life span of approximately seventy-five years. How could anything we do in 75 measly little years matter, compared to 13.73 billion? The answer is simple: it doesn't. Nothing you or I do will matter in the grand scheme of things. We could destroy this entire planet and the universe wouldn't even notice.
Some people may find this depressing. I find it comforting. First of all, this knowledge assures me that, no matter how badly I screw up, in the end, none of my mistakes will be that important. Second, it means that we have to create our own meaning.
We all experience life in different ways. Two people can take part in the same event and have two completely different experiences (think of the fans rooting for opposite teams at a football game). The only difference is their perception of what occurred, and this is influenced by the unique experiences each individual had when growing up, how and where they were raised, etc. In a certain sense, all we are is a jumble of mobile associations, associations that form through the interaction of genetics and environment, and are expressed through personality and behavior. We can take some measure of control over our lives by recognizing these associations and attempting to alter them when they are faulty. Instead of thinking, "I failed, therefore I suck," try "I failed, therefore I suck at this (at least for now)."
We're all dying. There's no escape. The only way to reach any measure of immortality is to affect the people around you in such a way that they remember you when you're gone. (Unless you believe in an afterlife, in which case you'll be hangin' with His Holiness for eternity. Hopefully.) This kind of immortality is achieved through acts both good and bad (think Gandhi vs. Hitler).
So what do you want to be remembered for? Money? Fame? Power? Personally, I'd like to be remembered the way I remember my Grandma: as someone who, though flawed, did her best to end up a better person than she was when she started, and who tried to help others achieve the same goal. I don't need the entire world (or any of it, really) to remember me, but it'd provide a small measure of comfort on my deathbed to know that I made those close to me just a tiny bit better.
We are all flawed. The trick is to not only recognize this truth (and accept it), but to see it as a starting point for growth.
*Thanks to Wiki for allowing me to double check some of the specifics of this blog. They're probably wrong, but it's easier than hunting through mounds of textbooks.
I was lying in bed late one night, trying to wrap my brain around the meaning of existence, when I was confronted with the enormity of the universe. Its vastness in both time and space is truly incomprehensible to the human mind, but that didn't stop me from trying to understand it.
Let's put down our burgers and remotes and think about this for a second. One hundred years ago, our use of electricity was still in its infancy and Ford had only been making cars for about five years. Go back one thousand years (a period of time already hard to grasp), and the Roman Empire had been dead for over five hundred years and it'd be nearly another five hundred until Columbus "discovers" the Americas. Ten thousand years ago, there was not a written word to be found on the face of the planet. Jump back four to eight million years and you get our ancestral line breaking off from our nearest relatives, the chimps and bonobos.
Fewer than ten million years into the past and *poof* any sign of man is gone. Go back sixty-five million years and you'll see the end of the dinosaurs. About four billions years in the past, and you'll get the beginnings of life on this planet. Another five hundred million years or so will get you the formation of the Earth, and even that is only in the most recent third of the universe's estimated 13.73 billion years of existence.
13.73 billion years. In an industrialized nation such as the US, your average individual is going to have a life span of approximately seventy-five years. How could anything we do in 75 measly little years matter, compared to 13.73 billion? The answer is simple: it doesn't. Nothing you or I do will matter in the grand scheme of things. We could destroy this entire planet and the universe wouldn't even notice.
Some people may find this depressing. I find it comforting. First of all, this knowledge assures me that, no matter how badly I screw up, in the end, none of my mistakes will be that important. Second, it means that we have to create our own meaning.
We all experience life in different ways. Two people can take part in the same event and have two completely different experiences (think of the fans rooting for opposite teams at a football game). The only difference is their perception of what occurred, and this is influenced by the unique experiences each individual had when growing up, how and where they were raised, etc. In a certain sense, all we are is a jumble of mobile associations, associations that form through the interaction of genetics and environment, and are expressed through personality and behavior. We can take some measure of control over our lives by recognizing these associations and attempting to alter them when they are faulty. Instead of thinking, "I failed, therefore I suck," try "I failed, therefore I suck at this (at least for now)."
We're all dying. There's no escape. The only way to reach any measure of immortality is to affect the people around you in such a way that they remember you when you're gone. (Unless you believe in an afterlife, in which case you'll be hangin' with His Holiness for eternity. Hopefully.) This kind of immortality is achieved through acts both good and bad (think Gandhi vs. Hitler).
So what do you want to be remembered for? Money? Fame? Power? Personally, I'd like to be remembered the way I remember my Grandma: as someone who, though flawed, did her best to end up a better person than she was when she started, and who tried to help others achieve the same goal. I don't need the entire world (or any of it, really) to remember me, but it'd provide a small measure of comfort on my deathbed to know that I made those close to me just a tiny bit better.
We are all flawed. The trick is to not only recognize this truth (and accept it), but to see it as a starting point for growth.
*Thanks to Wiki for allowing me to double check some of the specifics of this blog. They're probably wrong, but it's easier than hunting through mounds of textbooks.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Introducing The Buddhist & The Bastard
Polymathic J: The Octopus’s Garden will often feature blogs written from the perspective of either the Buddhist or the Bastard. While that little “About Me” box to the right explains things a bit, I thought formal introductions might not go amiss. Guys, say hi to everyone.
The Bastard: Seriously? This is the best idea you could come up with today? It’s moronic. First of all, I’m not a little monkey here to amuse people. Second, how cheesy is this shit?
The Buddhist: I don’t know…doesn’t seem so bad to me. And cheesy or not, why can’t “cheesy” and “bad” be mutually exclusive? We like plenty of cheesy movies. And, come to think of it, why is “cheesy” a colloquialism for bad, anyway? Cheese is quite tasty. We’ve got at least three different kinds in the fridge at this very moment.
The Bastard: Jesus, here we go. Please, expound upon the subject of cheese for us. I’m sure the masses will find a cheese lecture to be utterly stimulating.
The Buddhist: No need to get snippy. I was just thinking out loud. Although I must admit to wishing we had some Piave Vecchio. That Pecorino Romano isn’t as good as I’d hoped. Goes quite well with Wheat Thins, though…
The Bastard: Yeah, that Piave is good…dammit, why the hell are we talking about cheese?!
The Buddhist: Well, what would you like to talk about?
The Bastard: How about we talk about how batshit this is? He’s like a ventriloquist with no dummies.
Polymathic J: Hey, leave me out of this. I just wanted to introduce you to everyone. Besides, everyone who knows me is already well aware of the fact that I’ve got a screw loose.
The Bastard: Just one? I’m not the one having a conversation with myself.
The Buddhist: Aren’t you?
The Bastard: No, I—well, kinda. This hurts my brain.
Polymathic J: Ok, I’ll make it easy on you. Why don’t you simply explain a little bit about how you view the world? Buddhist, why don’t you go first?
The Buddhist: Hmmmm, ok. Well, I believe that people are inherently good, but are capable of getting so lost or damaged that they do bad things.
Polymathic J: Care to elaborate?
The Buddhist: Well, imagine that every person is a glass lantern. Everyone has a light within them that shines through the glass.
Polymathic J: I’m with you so far…
The Buddhist: The light never goes out so long as the person lives, but our experiences and the way we live our lives can cause the glass to get dirty. Abuse, addictions, mental disorders…all these things muck up the glass, making the light harder to see. I’m sure there are people out there with glass so dark you might find it hard to believe there’s a light contained within. But it’s there.
The Bastard: Bullshit. What about someone like Hitler?
The Buddhist: I’ve seen footage of Hitler in his last days, and there is a pronounced tremor in his arm. It seems to be indicative of Parkinson’s disease. And I’ve heard that some of Hitler’s early writings suggest that he may have gotten syphilis at some point. Syphilis has been known to cause serious mental abnormalities, and having one’s body fail oneself when the brain has already experienced great insult is bound to leave one with anger issues.
The Bastard: So you think Hitler killed over six million Jews because he was upset that he had Parkinson’s and some skank gave him VD?
The Buddhist: No, I’m simply saying that those may have been contributing factors. I’ve also heard that his personal physician got him hooked on daily injections of amphetamines and other goodies. High doses of amphetamines are known to cause psychosis. One or more of these issues may have exacerbated pre-existing problems derived from genetic or environmental factors. This does not excuse his actions, of course. I merely seek to offer possible (partial) explanations for what he did. Don’t forget that he was once an artist. He wanted to be a painter, but either didn’t have the natural gift or the tenacity to excel at it. Regardless, that speaks of a certain sensitivity that most people would not believe that he possessed. How horrible would it be if Hitler was a good man driven mad by disappointment and exposure to a lowly bacterium? That would be a tragedy to make even Sophocles weep.
The Bastard: Wow, dude. You’re not gonna make many friends defending Hitler.
The Buddhist: I simply seek to point out that we cannot know everything about a man. Is it not insane to desire the death of an entire race of people? If you believe it is, and if you believe that an insane man is not responsible for his actions (as I do), then should that man not be viewed with pity, rather than hatred?
Polymathic J: I am totally going to get hate mail for this.
The Buddhist: That may be, but I refuse to silence myself simply because my views defy convention. If anything, that’s all the more reason to share them. There is enough hate in this world. Perhaps it would be a better place if we attempted to understand what is unknown to us, especially when what is unknown makes us uncomfortable. His actions were obviously repellant and misguided, but hating him does nothing to change what he did.
Polymathic J: Ooookay. We better move on before the death threats start. Bastard?
The Bastard: Isn’t my name self-explanatory? I’m a jerk. I think people are selfish, self-absorbed pieces of crap. Give your average human a choice between helping themselves and helping someone else, and they’re going to help themselves 99.9% of the time.
The Buddhist: Do you include yourself in that?
The Bastard: Of course. I may be a bastard, but I’m an honest bastard. I find it hard to see why I should help someone when they wouldn’t even consider helping me. You gotta look out for Numero Uno. No one else will. Don’t forget that I’m a delivery driver. I rely on the kindness of strangers for a living, and it’s a poor living indeed.
The Buddhist: But what if the people you deliver to can’t afford to tip you well? Shouldn’t you consider their situation, rather than just your own?
The Bastard: I could say the same thing about them. If they don’t have the money to tip, then they should come to the store and pick up their pizzas themselves. Instead, they do what’s convenient for them, and say “Screw that guy bringing the pizza. He should get a better job.” That’s humanity in a nutshell: “Screw him; his problems are his fault, so why should I help?”
The Buddhist: I must admit that that attitude is disturbingly prevalent in today’s society.
The Bastard: You’re damn right it is. So why should I be kind, if it’s just going to lead to people taking advantage of me?
The Buddhist: Well, you’ve got one thing that many people do not have: an awareness of the problem. How can one fix a problem when one is unaware of it? Perhaps you should lead by example. Perhaps your kindness could illuminate the issue for others by providing a contrast to the norm. Perhaps you should listen to Gandhi’s words: “Be the change you want to see in the world.”
The Bastard: Fuck that. That’s your job.
The Buddhist: Touché.
Polymathic J: I think that’ll do for now. Say goodbye, guys.
The Buddhist & The Bastard: “Goodbye, guys.”
The Bastard: Seriously? This is the best idea you could come up with today? It’s moronic. First of all, I’m not a little monkey here to amuse people. Second, how cheesy is this shit?
The Buddhist: I don’t know…doesn’t seem so bad to me. And cheesy or not, why can’t “cheesy” and “bad” be mutually exclusive? We like plenty of cheesy movies. And, come to think of it, why is “cheesy” a colloquialism for bad, anyway? Cheese is quite tasty. We’ve got at least three different kinds in the fridge at this very moment.
The Bastard: Jesus, here we go. Please, expound upon the subject of cheese for us. I’m sure the masses will find a cheese lecture to be utterly stimulating.
The Buddhist: No need to get snippy. I was just thinking out loud. Although I must admit to wishing we had some Piave Vecchio. That Pecorino Romano isn’t as good as I’d hoped. Goes quite well with Wheat Thins, though…
The Bastard: Yeah, that Piave is good…dammit, why the hell are we talking about cheese?!
The Buddhist: Well, what would you like to talk about?
The Bastard: How about we talk about how batshit this is? He’s like a ventriloquist with no dummies.
Polymathic J: Hey, leave me out of this. I just wanted to introduce you to everyone. Besides, everyone who knows me is already well aware of the fact that I’ve got a screw loose.
The Bastard: Just one? I’m not the one having a conversation with myself.
The Buddhist: Aren’t you?
The Bastard: No, I—well, kinda. This hurts my brain.
Polymathic J: Ok, I’ll make it easy on you. Why don’t you simply explain a little bit about how you view the world? Buddhist, why don’t you go first?
The Buddhist: Hmmmm, ok. Well, I believe that people are inherently good, but are capable of getting so lost or damaged that they do bad things.
Polymathic J: Care to elaborate?
The Buddhist: Well, imagine that every person is a glass lantern. Everyone has a light within them that shines through the glass.
Polymathic J: I’m with you so far…
The Buddhist: The light never goes out so long as the person lives, but our experiences and the way we live our lives can cause the glass to get dirty. Abuse, addictions, mental disorders…all these things muck up the glass, making the light harder to see. I’m sure there are people out there with glass so dark you might find it hard to believe there’s a light contained within. But it’s there.
The Bastard: Bullshit. What about someone like Hitler?
The Buddhist: I’ve seen footage of Hitler in his last days, and there is a pronounced tremor in his arm. It seems to be indicative of Parkinson’s disease. And I’ve heard that some of Hitler’s early writings suggest that he may have gotten syphilis at some point. Syphilis has been known to cause serious mental abnormalities, and having one’s body fail oneself when the brain has already experienced great insult is bound to leave one with anger issues.
The Bastard: So you think Hitler killed over six million Jews because he was upset that he had Parkinson’s and some skank gave him VD?
The Buddhist: No, I’m simply saying that those may have been contributing factors. I’ve also heard that his personal physician got him hooked on daily injections of amphetamines and other goodies. High doses of amphetamines are known to cause psychosis. One or more of these issues may have exacerbated pre-existing problems derived from genetic or environmental factors. This does not excuse his actions, of course. I merely seek to offer possible (partial) explanations for what he did. Don’t forget that he was once an artist. He wanted to be a painter, but either didn’t have the natural gift or the tenacity to excel at it. Regardless, that speaks of a certain sensitivity that most people would not believe that he possessed. How horrible would it be if Hitler was a good man driven mad by disappointment and exposure to a lowly bacterium? That would be a tragedy to make even Sophocles weep.
The Bastard: Wow, dude. You’re not gonna make many friends defending Hitler.
The Buddhist: I simply seek to point out that we cannot know everything about a man. Is it not insane to desire the death of an entire race of people? If you believe it is, and if you believe that an insane man is not responsible for his actions (as I do), then should that man not be viewed with pity, rather than hatred?
Polymathic J: I am totally going to get hate mail for this.
The Buddhist: That may be, but I refuse to silence myself simply because my views defy convention. If anything, that’s all the more reason to share them. There is enough hate in this world. Perhaps it would be a better place if we attempted to understand what is unknown to us, especially when what is unknown makes us uncomfortable. His actions were obviously repellant and misguided, but hating him does nothing to change what he did.
Polymathic J: Ooookay. We better move on before the death threats start. Bastard?
The Bastard: Isn’t my name self-explanatory? I’m a jerk. I think people are selfish, self-absorbed pieces of crap. Give your average human a choice between helping themselves and helping someone else, and they’re going to help themselves 99.9% of the time.
The Buddhist: Do you include yourself in that?
The Bastard: Of course. I may be a bastard, but I’m an honest bastard. I find it hard to see why I should help someone when they wouldn’t even consider helping me. You gotta look out for Numero Uno. No one else will. Don’t forget that I’m a delivery driver. I rely on the kindness of strangers for a living, and it’s a poor living indeed.
The Buddhist: But what if the people you deliver to can’t afford to tip you well? Shouldn’t you consider their situation, rather than just your own?
The Bastard: I could say the same thing about them. If they don’t have the money to tip, then they should come to the store and pick up their pizzas themselves. Instead, they do what’s convenient for them, and say “Screw that guy bringing the pizza. He should get a better job.” That’s humanity in a nutshell: “Screw him; his problems are his fault, so why should I help?”
The Buddhist: I must admit that that attitude is disturbingly prevalent in today’s society.
The Bastard: You’re damn right it is. So why should I be kind, if it’s just going to lead to people taking advantage of me?
The Buddhist: Well, you’ve got one thing that many people do not have: an awareness of the problem. How can one fix a problem when one is unaware of it? Perhaps you should lead by example. Perhaps your kindness could illuminate the issue for others by providing a contrast to the norm. Perhaps you should listen to Gandhi’s words: “Be the change you want to see in the world.”
The Bastard: Fuck that. That’s your job.
The Buddhist: Touché.
Polymathic J: I think that’ll do for now. Say goodbye, guys.
The Buddhist & The Bastard: “Goodbye, guys.”
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