In yesterday's post about people not being funny, I made mention of a guy I worked with who is slightly handicapped. For the sake of this post, we'll call him Larry. Normally, every day I get into work Larry finds me, calls me a crazy Canadian, complete with stuttering of the c's, and he comments on whether or not my hair is getting too long, or noticing that I'd recently cut it. Yesterday he decided to start up a nice little discussion about whether or not my wife dominated me.
He's a funny guy.
Well, today I get into work, and the moment he saw me, I swear he ran a little in a turning the other way motion. I turned to one of my department managers and said "Well that's different," and he said to me "Yeah, he's been oddly quiet this morning" (he's normally a very vocal individual).
So, I found Larry and I asked him what the deal was. He said he was being picked on. I asked by who, and he said he was being picked on at our place of work and at his other and so he was feeling kinda down. At our place of work, one of his former fellow morning stockers turned part timer was giving him a hard time about the pace at which he worked and taking his cart of stock he was to work on. At his other place of work, his manager told him to stop being so loud, spouting "people will think you're crazy." Now, these may not seem like a big deal, but for him, I guess the volume of his voice is a touchy subject, and the pace at which he works equally so.
I told him that what the guy at our work doesn't understand is that people work at their own pace and that he's just bitter because he's over 40 and working part time at a department store so he feels the need to pick on whoever he can. Additionally, there's this aura surrounding the morning stockers. No matter how hard they work, they're looked down upon in some fashion.
Now, I'll admit that some of the people they hire arent exactly cut out for the job, but at the same time, I admire that even though they aren't, they're still being given a chance (by the way, the woman who gives these people a chance was fired yesterday, but I'll save that one for later).
Anyways, Larry let me know about how brutal people were to him in high school and that he thinks that it's the reason he developed his stutter and so on and so forth and I just felt bad that this 30-something guy (which you would never guess as he looks about 23) is still treated like he's in high-school. I mean, I realized a while ago that high-school never ends, but for this guy it's more evident than most.
Unfortunately, hes never realized how to deal with these things and takes them all to heart, wishing he were stronger, taller, and bigger in general so people wouldn't mess with him. I told him that's not the answer and he simply has to rise above it, as hard as it may be.
I know, easier said than done.
But what else can I say?
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
Humo(u)r.
People all around me (try to) crack jokes on a daily basis, but I'll be lucky if I can count on one hand the amount of times I genuinely laugh at them. I don't mean jokes in the traditional setup/punchline fashion (although one guy who no longer works with me attempted these) as much as I mean kidding around/poking fun at. While there are occasions I simply don't follow, be it over my head or a possible language barrier, most of the time I get what they're saying/doing and they're simply just not funny.
At all.
One example that comes to mind is the Cowboys fan I spoke of in a previous post (you know, the one I am the least biggest fan of). Well, one day last week I was replacing some icicle lights that had gone out and was up on the rolling ladder doing so. All of a sudden, mid reach, I feel the ladder shake and immediately I knew exactly what and who it was because the stupid son of a bitch had done it once previously. This guy finds it funny to come up and shake the ladder while I'm 8 feet above him, unaware of a possible fear of heights that I may (slightly do) have, and he walks off chuckling to himself.
I swear to Fry if there were no repercussions for grabbing someones face and smashing it into a blow mold Santa Claus until their face was as red as the suit the jolly one wears, it would happen one of these days, and for christ's sake I'm not even a violent person. This guy just rubs me the wrong way in such a fierce manner, I can't help but fall into quasi rage blackouts when he's around.
This, of course, explains my complete lack of sense of humour in this case, but even when other people have done the same thing (yeah, I know, I work with some winners) I may have cracked an artificalaugh in their general direction because I can tolerate them, but you can bet your bananas I was frowning something fierce on the inside.
Another example is one that has caused me to lose some respect for a couple people I actually liked. I work with this very slightly handicapped individual who happens to have a bit of a speech impediment in the form of a minor studder. Well, a couple people have taken it upon themselves to imitate his voice and while doing so, speak in a sexual manner. I know that they do it all in good fun, but the mere fact that they do it in a hushed manner just goes to show that they know they're doing something they shouldn't. Just another unfortunate case of making sure people know you're capable of being "one of the guys."
And I think that's mainly it: I'm surrounded by guys.
The unfortunate part is that some of these guys are intelligent individuals and yet they feel it necessary to stoop to that level. You know, the one that all guys could have in common if they wanted to because it's not hard tof joke about "how your mom was in bed last night." I'd say I'm sorry, but I am far from sorry that I don't want to be just another guy and that I'd rather people connect with me on a more intellectual level, if at all.
Hell, I'm not even that intelligent a person. There are may topics that would easily go directly over my head (and if you read last night's post, you'll understand my reason why). It's just that by simply avoiding being a part of that sixth grade idea of humour demographic, one is automatically an intellectual in my books.
Don't get me wrong though. I am far from uptight and I definitely laugh at nonsensical toilet humour. There's just a time and place and fashion for that kind of humour and work just isn't one of them, and I'm pretty sure that when it comes to my mother, people get that feeling from me.
Maybe I'm a bit too serious and maybe I am a little uptight, but maybe, just maybe, you're just not funny.
At all.
One example that comes to mind is the Cowboys fan I spoke of in a previous post (you know, the one I am the least biggest fan of). Well, one day last week I was replacing some icicle lights that had gone out and was up on the rolling ladder doing so. All of a sudden, mid reach, I feel the ladder shake and immediately I knew exactly what and who it was because the stupid son of a bitch had done it once previously. This guy finds it funny to come up and shake the ladder while I'm 8 feet above him, unaware of a possible fear of heights that I may (slightly do) have, and he walks off chuckling to himself.
I swear to Fry if there were no repercussions for grabbing someones face and smashing it into a blow mold Santa Claus until their face was as red as the suit the jolly one wears, it would happen one of these days, and for christ's sake I'm not even a violent person. This guy just rubs me the wrong way in such a fierce manner, I can't help but fall into quasi rage blackouts when he's around.
This, of course, explains my complete lack of sense of humour in this case, but even when other people have done the same thing (yeah, I know, I work with some winners) I may have cracked an artificalaugh in their general direction because I can tolerate them, but you can bet your bananas I was frowning something fierce on the inside.
Another example is one that has caused me to lose some respect for a couple people I actually liked. I work with this very slightly handicapped individual who happens to have a bit of a speech impediment in the form of a minor studder. Well, a couple people have taken it upon themselves to imitate his voice and while doing so, speak in a sexual manner. I know that they do it all in good fun, but the mere fact that they do it in a hushed manner just goes to show that they know they're doing something they shouldn't. Just another unfortunate case of making sure people know you're capable of being "one of the guys."
And I think that's mainly it: I'm surrounded by guys.
The unfortunate part is that some of these guys are intelligent individuals and yet they feel it necessary to stoop to that level. You know, the one that all guys could have in common if they wanted to because it's not hard tof joke about "how your mom was in bed last night." I'd say I'm sorry, but I am far from sorry that I don't want to be just another guy and that I'd rather people connect with me on a more intellectual level, if at all.
Hell, I'm not even that intelligent a person. There are may topics that would easily go directly over my head (and if you read last night's post, you'll understand my reason why). It's just that by simply avoiding being a part of that sixth grade idea of humour demographic, one is automatically an intellectual in my books.
Don't get me wrong though. I am far from uptight and I definitely laugh at nonsensical toilet humour. There's just a time and place and fashion for that kind of humour and work just isn't one of them, and I'm pretty sure that when it comes to my mother, people get that feeling from me.
Maybe I'm a bit too serious and maybe I am a little uptight, but maybe, just maybe, you're just not funny.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Magic.
Let me begin by saying that there can never be enough movies that revolve around the restoration of one's ability to believe, whether it be in Santa Claus, or magic (which ultimately go hand in hand), or simply believing in one's self, it's a storyline I can watch over and over. The most recent in this library that the wife-i and I just wrapped up is Mr. Magorium's Wonder Imporium.
I had wanted to see this movie for some time, but as I'd never heard anything of it since it was released, I figured it might have just been another movie to shrug my shoulders at and move along.
Guess what?
I was wrong.
This movie was exactly what I needed, and do you know why? Well, I'll tell you why. Before I watched this movie, I was a man of science. I was a man that required proof and explanation for why things are the way they are and had a hard time taking things for their face value, only this approach posed a problem for me. While facts were interesting for the duration of a lesson, I could never remember what I'd scientifically learnt.
It just never stuck with me.
Now, apres le film, while I retain this interest in the scientific explanation for things, I have also adopted the magic perspective, and do you know why? Because in every instance that I don't comprehend the mechanics behind something, I can simply believe it's magic, and that is more than good enough for me.
An example I can take from the movie is how magnets work. I have probably been taught this at least 20 times in my life, be it in school, on tv, or someone telling me one on one, and I still cannot even begin to tell you how they work. Like previously mentioned, I just don't retain this knowledge, and up until two hours ago, I never understood why. What was so hard for me to hold onto?
Now I understand.
I was never meant to retain this information.
I wasn't born to amass the physics of leverage or the chemistry of baking soda; the biology of the human body or pi to the hundredth decimal. These things are better reserved for other people; they exist for the people passionate about things in life that require this information. For doctors, mathemeticians, architects and the like, this information is crucial, but for someone like me, it is less than poignant.
Don't get me wrong. I understand the importance of all of these things in every day life, but I also realize that there are people who will worry and take care of all of these things and that this is what they were born to do. If they weren't, they wouldn't be doing it.
It may sound like I'm completely abandoning a massive opportunity to buckle down and open my eyes to a world that I don't comprehend by simply passing it off as magic, but that isn't true at all. If anything, my eyes are more open than they've ever been.
To put it simply, I understand theres an explanation for everything somewhere out there, but who says I'm not allowed to believe that there's an alternative? That on an equal plain, there's a complete lack of necessity when it comes to an explanation for most things in order for me to live and do so happily? I beleive that these discoveries and explanations aren't for everyone. Not everyone needs to find this infromation out to feel complete.
Why can't I beleive that things are the way they are simply because of magic and live my life by this? I mean, if anyone feels that this approach is offensive to their line of work, then they need to stop being so uptight about it and deal with the fact that we're all born to figure out what we believe in and accept what people choose, even if it seems like it's going against thousands of years of discovery and proof.
My aim isn't to go against anything the human species has discovered at all. Discovery is fascinating and extraordinary and it shapes the direction this world travels, and I'm positive that on a day to day basis these discoveries will affect almost every aspect of my life. I simply prefer to retain that element of wonderment when it comes to life. I want to avoid the facts and imagine my own explanations for why things are the way they are.
For me, even with all the evil that exists, the world, whether one likes to beleive it or not, is a magical place, and it's about time I embrace this.
This entry is a little disjointed as it's such a fresh self-discovery, but if there's one thing you can take out of this, it's that I believe in magic.
More to come.
I had wanted to see this movie for some time, but as I'd never heard anything of it since it was released, I figured it might have just been another movie to shrug my shoulders at and move along.
Guess what?
I was wrong.
This movie was exactly what I needed, and do you know why? Well, I'll tell you why. Before I watched this movie, I was a man of science. I was a man that required proof and explanation for why things are the way they are and had a hard time taking things for their face value, only this approach posed a problem for me. While facts were interesting for the duration of a lesson, I could never remember what I'd scientifically learnt.
It just never stuck with me.
Now, apres le film, while I retain this interest in the scientific explanation for things, I have also adopted the magic perspective, and do you know why? Because in every instance that I don't comprehend the mechanics behind something, I can simply believe it's magic, and that is more than good enough for me.
An example I can take from the movie is how magnets work. I have probably been taught this at least 20 times in my life, be it in school, on tv, or someone telling me one on one, and I still cannot even begin to tell you how they work. Like previously mentioned, I just don't retain this knowledge, and up until two hours ago, I never understood why. What was so hard for me to hold onto?
Now I understand.
I was never meant to retain this information.
I wasn't born to amass the physics of leverage or the chemistry of baking soda; the biology of the human body or pi to the hundredth decimal. These things are better reserved for other people; they exist for the people passionate about things in life that require this information. For doctors, mathemeticians, architects and the like, this information is crucial, but for someone like me, it is less than poignant.
Don't get me wrong. I understand the importance of all of these things in every day life, but I also realize that there are people who will worry and take care of all of these things and that this is what they were born to do. If they weren't, they wouldn't be doing it.
It may sound like I'm completely abandoning a massive opportunity to buckle down and open my eyes to a world that I don't comprehend by simply passing it off as magic, but that isn't true at all. If anything, my eyes are more open than they've ever been.
To put it simply, I understand theres an explanation for everything somewhere out there, but who says I'm not allowed to believe that there's an alternative? That on an equal plain, there's a complete lack of necessity when it comes to an explanation for most things in order for me to live and do so happily? I beleive that these discoveries and explanations aren't for everyone. Not everyone needs to find this infromation out to feel complete.
Why can't I beleive that things are the way they are simply because of magic and live my life by this? I mean, if anyone feels that this approach is offensive to their line of work, then they need to stop being so uptight about it and deal with the fact that we're all born to figure out what we believe in and accept what people choose, even if it seems like it's going against thousands of years of discovery and proof.
My aim isn't to go against anything the human species has discovered at all. Discovery is fascinating and extraordinary and it shapes the direction this world travels, and I'm positive that on a day to day basis these discoveries will affect almost every aspect of my life. I simply prefer to retain that element of wonderment when it comes to life. I want to avoid the facts and imagine my own explanations for why things are the way they are.
For me, even with all the evil that exists, the world, whether one likes to beleive it or not, is a magical place, and it's about time I embrace this.
This entry is a little disjointed as it's such a fresh self-discovery, but if there's one thing you can take out of this, it's that I believe in magic.
More to come.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Bearth.
So, I'm still awake at 12:08, which is pretty unheard of these days. I used to be nocturnal, but ever since I crawled out of my cave, got a taste for vitamin D, and got married, I've appreciated the day time so much more.
The reason I'm still up is because I was watching a show on the creation of Earth from the beginning, up until now and you know what? This sadness swept over me because I couldn't be there for the birth of this planet and to watch it grow up the last 4.5 billion years.
So, I've decided I'm going to make it my goal to make sure that I figure out how to travel back in time to experience all of this. I shouldn't have missed it. I feel like a failure, not being able to make it to my own planet's birth and help raise it.
Who am I? WHO?!
And for the off-topic record, I despise it when people spell the word through as "thru." I can deal with the "drive-thru" being this way, although considering it's 2008, it should be called the fly-thru by now, but if you're going to use it anywhere else, I'm going to make sure you die a slow and painful death, k? This is after I make you watch as I deep-fry your first born and serve him to a feild of grazing cows. I imagine they're sick of that fucking cud they chew on all day and would like a little protein in their diet.
No? Too far?
Easy now, it's just a cartoon.
The reason I'm still up is because I was watching a show on the creation of Earth from the beginning, up until now and you know what? This sadness swept over me because I couldn't be there for the birth of this planet and to watch it grow up the last 4.5 billion years.
So, I've decided I'm going to make it my goal to make sure that I figure out how to travel back in time to experience all of this. I shouldn't have missed it. I feel like a failure, not being able to make it to my own planet's birth and help raise it.
Who am I? WHO?!
And for the off-topic record, I despise it when people spell the word through as "thru." I can deal with the "drive-thru" being this way, although considering it's 2008, it should be called the fly-thru by now, but if you're going to use it anywhere else, I'm going to make sure you die a slow and painful death, k? This is after I make you watch as I deep-fry your first born and serve him to a feild of grazing cows. I imagine they're sick of that fucking cud they chew on all day and would like a little protein in their diet.
No? Too far?
Easy now, it's just a cartoon.
Sears? More Like Spears.
Sears Bloomington doesn't have beds.
Is this legal? I mean, for Sears to not have beds feels like the end of the world, doesn't it? Actually, I'm pretty sure I could hear Michael Stipe singing inside my head as we discovered that in their bedding section, they only had two beds, and they were mere accessories to the comforter sets on display. I felt like someone came up behind me, stuck their member in me and said "Gotcha!", which in this situation, Sears was the someone, and the ass raping was the severe lack of beds.
We wanted a god damn bed for christ's sake and Sears was severly without!
I should write them and complain.
Dear Sears,
Your beds were on sale this week and yet your store in Bloomington, Indiana had no beds. Now, I understand you have a website, but in the case of beds, well, I'd kind of like to at least lay down on one before purchasing. I mean, if I'm going to spend a third of my life in it, I'm going to want something that caters to my needs, and I can't exactly look at a bed and tell the level of comfort I'm going to recieve. Sure, there are people out there who mail order brides based on a picture and small description, so ordering a bed without trying it out shouldn't seem like too big a deal. However, as I don't really comprehend desperation for companionship, seeing as how I already have my own wife, first, the ass raping you gave me was completely unwelcome, and second, it's a very big deal. My point is that each and every one of your stores should stock beds because I'm pretty sure you don't really want rape charges on your record, do you?
Sincerely,
C.W. Thomas.
There's nothing like threatening a corporation with rape charges. Especially when you try to mentally picture a store trying to rape someone.
Awesome.
Is this legal? I mean, for Sears to not have beds feels like the end of the world, doesn't it? Actually, I'm pretty sure I could hear Michael Stipe singing inside my head as we discovered that in their bedding section, they only had two beds, and they were mere accessories to the comforter sets on display. I felt like someone came up behind me, stuck their member in me and said "Gotcha!", which in this situation, Sears was the someone, and the ass raping was the severe lack of beds.
We wanted a god damn bed for christ's sake and Sears was severly without!
I should write them and complain.
Dear Sears,
Your beds were on sale this week and yet your store in Bloomington, Indiana had no beds. Now, I understand you have a website, but in the case of beds, well, I'd kind of like to at least lay down on one before purchasing. I mean, if I'm going to spend a third of my life in it, I'm going to want something that caters to my needs, and I can't exactly look at a bed and tell the level of comfort I'm going to recieve. Sure, there are people out there who mail order brides based on a picture and small description, so ordering a bed without trying it out shouldn't seem like too big a deal. However, as I don't really comprehend desperation for companionship, seeing as how I already have my own wife, first, the ass raping you gave me was completely unwelcome, and second, it's a very big deal. My point is that each and every one of your stores should stock beds because I'm pretty sure you don't really want rape charges on your record, do you?
Sincerely,
C.W. Thomas.
There's nothing like threatening a corporation with rape charges. Especially when you try to mentally picture a store trying to rape someone.
Awesome.
Myself.
This isn't really going the way I thought it would when I created it. I made it with the intent to speak of things I dislike in a satirical way through wit and sarcasm. Instead it's basically a quasi-well written account of my life that avoids recounting my day-to-day happenings and instead touches upon my life as a whole up until this point.
Should I go the way I wanted? Can I go the way I wanted? Am I actually capable of what I want to be? To exemplify, I'd like to write along the lines of Stephen Colbert, but not as extreme. You know, talk as if I think and feel and believe one thing when really, I believe the exact opposite.
I suppose I could keep this format and inject more of that satire within? But then would it be me anymore or would it simply be me trying to be something I'm not? Wait, didn't I just say I wanted to speak as someone I'm not?
Besides, to quote I Heart Huckabees, "How am I not myself?"
Is it really possible not to be yourself, or is it that even when you're not being your usual self, you're still being you because you're doing it? Putting on whatever facade you are, it's still you putting it on.
I mean, when an actor is playing a role, their name might not be the same and their actions might not reflect those which they normally portray, but it's still them playing the part. They're simply being themselves by being someone else. It's who they are.
Does that make sense?
Regardless, if this is going so well for me, why change it? If I'm writing this for myself and not for whatever audience there is/will be, why should I care that when I look back, it's all kind of boring?
I guess maybe that's just it. Maybe I'm lying to myself when I say that this is for me. Maybe I'm already trying to be something I'm not by teling myself I'm writing for me. I mean, why else would I be writing this online instead of in a book?
I gues I do want an audience. I want people to read this and discuss it's contents. I want attention. I just don't want atention from people I already know (my wife aside, of course). I want people to stumble across this and not feel forced to tell me how good it is because they know me. I want you randoms out there to come along and tell me how good it is because it is good, if it actually is. If not, come challenge me. Try to knock me down a peg or two. Tell me what I'm doing wrong and thinking wrong, k?
One thing I know is that this has been very void of anything cartoon, even in the darker, less colourful form I spoke of.
Here's to changing that.
Should I go the way I wanted? Can I go the way I wanted? Am I actually capable of what I want to be? To exemplify, I'd like to write along the lines of Stephen Colbert, but not as extreme. You know, talk as if I think and feel and believe one thing when really, I believe the exact opposite.
I suppose I could keep this format and inject more of that satire within? But then would it be me anymore or would it simply be me trying to be something I'm not? Wait, didn't I just say I wanted to speak as someone I'm not?
Besides, to quote I Heart Huckabees, "How am I not myself?"
Is it really possible not to be yourself, or is it that even when you're not being your usual self, you're still being you because you're doing it? Putting on whatever facade you are, it's still you putting it on.
I mean, when an actor is playing a role, their name might not be the same and their actions might not reflect those which they normally portray, but it's still them playing the part. They're simply being themselves by being someone else. It's who they are.
Does that make sense?
Regardless, if this is going so well for me, why change it? If I'm writing this for myself and not for whatever audience there is/will be, why should I care that when I look back, it's all kind of boring?
I guess maybe that's just it. Maybe I'm lying to myself when I say that this is for me. Maybe I'm already trying to be something I'm not by teling myself I'm writing for me. I mean, why else would I be writing this online instead of in a book?
I gues I do want an audience. I want people to read this and discuss it's contents. I want attention. I just don't want atention from people I already know (my wife aside, of course). I want people to stumble across this and not feel forced to tell me how good it is because they know me. I want you randoms out there to come along and tell me how good it is because it is good, if it actually is. If not, come challenge me. Try to knock me down a peg or two. Tell me what I'm doing wrong and thinking wrong, k?
One thing I know is that this has been very void of anything cartoon, even in the darker, less colourful form I spoke of.
Here's to changing that.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Children.
My brother once propositioned me with a motto to live by that told me to "expect the worst, hope for the best." A little cliche, but that doesn't mean it wasn't something I could use at that point in my life. Since then, I've kind of been back and forth on whether its actually something that should be practiced, or if I should be both expecting and hoping for the best and taking the worst head on when it happens.
The real question is, can you change that in yourself?
Sure, you can be a pessimist one day and upon realization and in an attempt to be a brighter, happier person, gradually practice optimism until you become it, but even an optimist can expect the worst, can't they? Expecting the worst doesn't automatically place you in the pessimist column, does it?
To me, it basically means that you've lived bad enough experiences that you know that life deals unexpected blows and so you have to be on your game and prepared for things to all fall down some day.
Or am I way off?
Could it be that as long as the worst is expected, things will never be the best because even the best moments will always be ruined by that voice in the back of your head that's making sure you're not caught off guard by a bump in the road?
If this is the case, how do you let go?
When I see children passing through my place of work and stopping off at the playground with their parents, initially I think about how adorable they are, which leads to wishing I could have as much fun doing the simplest things like they do, to thinking about how innocent they are, to thinking about how vulnerable they are, to thinking about all the bad things that could happen to them because they're virtually defenseless. I can't help but look at children and think of all the bad things that do happen to them.
This doesn't happen with all children though.
I don't think this about my own nephew, or all of my neices-in-law, and I think that's because with them, I can expect and hope the best for them because I know their families are fully capable of protecting them. I'm sure that all of the families that come through my work are fully capable too, but since I don't know them, I can't help but expect the worst. It doesn't help either that 40% of the families that do bring their children there leave them alone in the playground area while they shop around the store, some as young as 8 or 9 looking after even younger ones.
I just really hate (one of the few times I'll use this word) that I have to live in a world where I have to worry about things like this. I don't mind the battle of good and evil. I understand it's existence. There are some things though that not even the devil (in theory) himself would take credit for because they're just so wrong and it's these things that keep me expecting the worst.
I would love more than anything to expect the best, I really would, but as long as children are being treated the way they are, how is that possible? How can you expect the best when our future lay in the hands of the abused?
Of course, I realize that not all children are abused, but if you want some statistics so I don't seem such a Debbie Downer: in the year 2002, "2.6 million reports concerning the welfare of approximately 4.5 million children were made in the United States. In approximately two-thirds (67 percent) of these cases, the information provided in the report was sufficient to prompt an assessment or investigation. As a result of these investigations, approximately 896,000 children were found to have been victims of abuse or neglect—an average of more than 2,450 children per day."
Here's the kicker: "An average of nearly four children die every day as a result of child abuse or neglect."
The only way that this world is going to become a safer place is when we start to raise our children right, and when that starts to happen, you can give my expectations a call and let them know better times are coming.
The real question is, can you change that in yourself?
Sure, you can be a pessimist one day and upon realization and in an attempt to be a brighter, happier person, gradually practice optimism until you become it, but even an optimist can expect the worst, can't they? Expecting the worst doesn't automatically place you in the pessimist column, does it?
To me, it basically means that you've lived bad enough experiences that you know that life deals unexpected blows and so you have to be on your game and prepared for things to all fall down some day.
Or am I way off?
Could it be that as long as the worst is expected, things will never be the best because even the best moments will always be ruined by that voice in the back of your head that's making sure you're not caught off guard by a bump in the road?
If this is the case, how do you let go?
When I see children passing through my place of work and stopping off at the playground with their parents, initially I think about how adorable they are, which leads to wishing I could have as much fun doing the simplest things like they do, to thinking about how innocent they are, to thinking about how vulnerable they are, to thinking about all the bad things that could happen to them because they're virtually defenseless. I can't help but look at children and think of all the bad things that do happen to them.
This doesn't happen with all children though.
I don't think this about my own nephew, or all of my neices-in-law, and I think that's because with them, I can expect and hope the best for them because I know their families are fully capable of protecting them. I'm sure that all of the families that come through my work are fully capable too, but since I don't know them, I can't help but expect the worst. It doesn't help either that 40% of the families that do bring their children there leave them alone in the playground area while they shop around the store, some as young as 8 or 9 looking after even younger ones.
I just really hate (one of the few times I'll use this word) that I have to live in a world where I have to worry about things like this. I don't mind the battle of good and evil. I understand it's existence. There are some things though that not even the devil (in theory) himself would take credit for because they're just so wrong and it's these things that keep me expecting the worst.
I would love more than anything to expect the best, I really would, but as long as children are being treated the way they are, how is that possible? How can you expect the best when our future lay in the hands of the abused?
Of course, I realize that not all children are abused, but if you want some statistics so I don't seem such a Debbie Downer: in the year 2002, "2.6 million reports concerning the welfare of approximately 4.5 million children were made in the United States. In approximately two-thirds (67 percent) of these cases, the information provided in the report was sufficient to prompt an assessment or investigation. As a result of these investigations, approximately 896,000 children were found to have been victims of abuse or neglect—an average of more than 2,450 children per day."
Here's the kicker: "An average of nearly four children die every day as a result of child abuse or neglect."
The only way that this world is going to become a safer place is when we start to raise our children right, and when that starts to happen, you can give my expectations a call and let them know better times are coming.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
From Catacombs to King.
Work was excruciatingly slow today and I mean slow as in the worst movie you've ever seen type of slow, only it lasted a literal 8 and a half hours that felt like 46 and three-quarters. For me, it was comparable to the time I watched The Postman with Kevin Costner. I swear to Godfrey Jones that atrocity was at least 16 hours long.
As I'm sure you can tell, I am very, very glad to be home with the wife-i to eat a delicious dinner she's preparing and to sit down and watch One Tree Hill with her. We caught a preview of it a couple weeks ago and we both had never seen it before and decided that since the soap channel was going back to square one that we'd try it out and honestly, I'm surprised that I like it as much as I do.
First, I had no idea it revolved around basketball, which since I've met my wife, college ball has become a part of my life and it's fantastic. Second, the music in it is my kind of music, be it nostalgic or new. Third, Moira Kelly is in it and not only was she the voice of Nala in the Lion King, but she's awful purdy to boot. Fourth, it's basically Gilmore Girls, just not as funny/clever.
See, ever since I married my wife, I've become a TV junkie, and to me, this is far from a bad thing because I also happen to be a pop-culture whore. I may not be into tabloids and gossip, but movies, for as long as I can remember, have been a big part of my life and music, while not as big a part, is still up there, especially in the past 6 years (although I've been in a rut lately), so why not TV as well?
I've recently decided that I'm going to attempt to watch (including catching up on the past) as much TV (that seems important pop-culturally to me) as I can in a quest to amass as much referential information as I can because to me, being aware of pop-culture is a pretty important thing.
Why?
Because not only is it the "here and now", around the water cooler, being blogged about, but because it reaches these places, it becomes lasting, and it becomes the "then" and history is now a pop-culture time-line. To remember pop-culture is to be able to converse about history in the near future.
It may seem trivial to some, but it's something a good portion of the population can relate to, and for someone who enjoys writing, being able to not only reference something, but have a good amount of others understand the reference is what it's all about (to me).
Yes, a good portion of the population should probably relate to more important things like current events, politics, academia, and the like, but whether you like it or not, pop-culture has become just as important in shaping who we are and who we grow up to be.
It's yet another inescapable fact of life.
I mean, for all of you out there who do fight it, what would you have to fight if it weren't there?
That, of course, is a pretty rhetorical question, because while you might be able to keep one thing from reaching pop-culture status, you can't exactly keep everything from it. There will always be the popular, and whether you love or hate it, you're still embracing it's existence in some fashion.
Right?
Now, all I have to work on is training my memory to actually recall things and I'll be well on my way to escaping the pop-culture catacombs I currently inhabit and finding my place as king.
At least in my own mind.
As I'm sure you can tell, I am very, very glad to be home with the wife-i to eat a delicious dinner she's preparing and to sit down and watch One Tree Hill with her. We caught a preview of it a couple weeks ago and we both had never seen it before and decided that since the soap channel was going back to square one that we'd try it out and honestly, I'm surprised that I like it as much as I do.
First, I had no idea it revolved around basketball, which since I've met my wife, college ball has become a part of my life and it's fantastic. Second, the music in it is my kind of music, be it nostalgic or new. Third, Moira Kelly is in it and not only was she the voice of Nala in the Lion King, but she's awful purdy to boot. Fourth, it's basically Gilmore Girls, just not as funny/clever.
See, ever since I married my wife, I've become a TV junkie, and to me, this is far from a bad thing because I also happen to be a pop-culture whore. I may not be into tabloids and gossip, but movies, for as long as I can remember, have been a big part of my life and music, while not as big a part, is still up there, especially in the past 6 years (although I've been in a rut lately), so why not TV as well?
I've recently decided that I'm going to attempt to watch (including catching up on the past) as much TV (that seems important pop-culturally to me) as I can in a quest to amass as much referential information as I can because to me, being aware of pop-culture is a pretty important thing.
Why?
Because not only is it the "here and now", around the water cooler, being blogged about, but because it reaches these places, it becomes lasting, and it becomes the "then" and history is now a pop-culture time-line. To remember pop-culture is to be able to converse about history in the near future.
It may seem trivial to some, but it's something a good portion of the population can relate to, and for someone who enjoys writing, being able to not only reference something, but have a good amount of others understand the reference is what it's all about (to me).
Yes, a good portion of the population should probably relate to more important things like current events, politics, academia, and the like, but whether you like it or not, pop-culture has become just as important in shaping who we are and who we grow up to be.
It's yet another inescapable fact of life.
I mean, for all of you out there who do fight it, what would you have to fight if it weren't there?
That, of course, is a pretty rhetorical question, because while you might be able to keep one thing from reaching pop-culture status, you can't exactly keep everything from it. There will always be the popular, and whether you love or hate it, you're still embracing it's existence in some fashion.
Right?
Now, all I have to work on is training my memory to actually recall things and I'll be well on my way to escaping the pop-culture catacombs I currently inhabit and finding my place as king.
At least in my own mind.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Christmas.
For the longest time Christmas and I haven't really seen eye to eye. Not that I've ever gone as far as disliking it, but there was a while where I was kind of impartial to it, even though every year I'd try to get excited about it. It's hard to get excited about something like Christmas without the people around you joining in though, you know?
As I'm sure we all know, Christmas (or at least it should) revolves around family (all Jesus aside). Of course, when you're young it revolves around imagination, innocence and getting wicked awesome presents, but even then it revolves around family, even if you don't really realize it.
One of my favourite Christmases from when I was young was the one that almost my entire family, immediate, 7 aunts and uncles, grandparents, and 11 cousins, were packed into our house and we had a cookie decorating station set up in the basement for the kids. I think I mostly remember it because I have pictures to look back on, but those picures, for once, actually jog a memory still there, and a good one at that.
I find that these days, my memories of when I was young are far and few between, especially the good ones. I don't know if this is just a part of growing up or if I'm an exception to the rule, so it's hard to decipher whether I should be sad about it or not. Of course, even if I am an exception, why should I dwell on a past that I can't even really remember? That doesn't really make much sense. All that's important is that I know where I came from and that I relish who I've turned out to be thus far, because hell, I think I'm a pretty fantastic individual.
Anyways, you may be asking why I might be bringing up Christmas when it's not even October yet, nevermind December, and that's an easy one. I work for a department store, and like I said, as much as Christmas should be about family, it's really become a commercialized holiday for the materialistic masses.
For example, we sell camoflauged shotgun-wielding snowmen that shoot as they sing carols. As in "Jin-gle bells! *chk, chk, boom*". While hilarious for the obvious reasons, the fact that these exist and that they'll probably sell out faster than anything else makes me very, very sad. I'm just glad I'm not religious because is this really a way to celebrate the birth of Jesus? I mean, sure, I'm the one who created a comic where snowmen killed eachother every strip and even brought in Futurama's robot santa at one point, but that's because I'm happily blasphemous and was catering to a specific audience, which..... I really hope aren't two in the same?
Huh.
But yes, we began putting Christmas stuff out two weeks ago and recieving the freight over a month ago. This doesn't surprise me as much as it does everyone who walks through the store, though. While I don't blame them, the constant "Christmas? Already?!" gets a little old. But I guess in September everyone's entitled to saying it at least once. The second someone comes in and says it a second time though, it will not be pretty. There will be so much under-breath muttering and behind-the-back glares they wont know what hit them. Hopefully one of those glares will be so violent it will pierce their medulla or something.
As we've been setting up all of the Christmas stuff (which we still have two more weeks of, at least), a lot of people around me have voiced their hatred for the holiday season, and one guy in particular kind of pissed me off. He came through with his ugly Nickelback face and awkward stroll all "Fucking Christmas, man. I hate it," to which I asked "Why?" as irritated as possible. He replied "Because everyone's so happy!" I looked up at him and said "And god forbid anyone be happy!" to which he shot me an "Exactly. Everyones all rushing around stressed out blah blah blah.." and this is where I ceased to give him the time of day.
First of all, that didn't even make sense, second of all, you're a Dallas Cowboys fan. Go back to Texas and eat a dick, because we all know the only people who can justify being Cowboys fans are residents of the "everything's bigger" state, and if you're not from there, you're just a tag-along jackass.
Can you tell I don't like this guy? You should just never mix being disliked by me with saying something as ignorant as that. It's never a good combination.
This post is seriously straying though. It was originally about Christmas and I not getting on well and turned into my e-ripping some dude who doesn't matter a new one.
In recent years, Christmas has gotten a lot better and I owe this to being married to a woman who loves said time of year even more than I do. The month (and then some) is filled with christmas music, movies, food, gifting and everything else Christmas and I couldn't ask for more.
This is why being able to start celebrating so early at work is such a welcomed thing for me. I love the decorations and the music and all of the feelings that belong to this time of year because it brings me back to being a kid and all of the imagination and innocence that went along with it then. I welcome it all with open arms, and I welcome it as early as possible because we all need a little innocence back in our lives so we stop taking everything so seriously and remember that we, too, were children once.
So do yourself a favour and bust out your favourite Christmas movie (because I know we all have one), pour a glass of eggnog, throw a little rum in there, and celebrate with me.
You might as well get ready now, because we all know it's coming and that it's unavoidable, so why not deck the halls and embrace it?
Here's to you and yours.
As I'm sure we all know, Christmas (or at least it should) revolves around family (all Jesus aside). Of course, when you're young it revolves around imagination, innocence and getting wicked awesome presents, but even then it revolves around family, even if you don't really realize it.
One of my favourite Christmases from when I was young was the one that almost my entire family, immediate, 7 aunts and uncles, grandparents, and 11 cousins, were packed into our house and we had a cookie decorating station set up in the basement for the kids. I think I mostly remember it because I have pictures to look back on, but those picures, for once, actually jog a memory still there, and a good one at that.
I find that these days, my memories of when I was young are far and few between, especially the good ones. I don't know if this is just a part of growing up or if I'm an exception to the rule, so it's hard to decipher whether I should be sad about it or not. Of course, even if I am an exception, why should I dwell on a past that I can't even really remember? That doesn't really make much sense. All that's important is that I know where I came from and that I relish who I've turned out to be thus far, because hell, I think I'm a pretty fantastic individual.
Anyways, you may be asking why I might be bringing up Christmas when it's not even October yet, nevermind December, and that's an easy one. I work for a department store, and like I said, as much as Christmas should be about family, it's really become a commercialized holiday for the materialistic masses.
For example, we sell camoflauged shotgun-wielding snowmen that shoot as they sing carols. As in "Jin-gle bells! *chk, chk, boom*". While hilarious for the obvious reasons, the fact that these exist and that they'll probably sell out faster than anything else makes me very, very sad. I'm just glad I'm not religious because is this really a way to celebrate the birth of Jesus? I mean, sure, I'm the one who created a comic where snowmen killed eachother every strip and even brought in Futurama's robot santa at one point, but that's because I'm happily blasphemous and was catering to a specific audience, which..... I really hope aren't two in the same?
Huh.
But yes, we began putting Christmas stuff out two weeks ago and recieving the freight over a month ago. This doesn't surprise me as much as it does everyone who walks through the store, though. While I don't blame them, the constant "Christmas? Already?!" gets a little old. But I guess in September everyone's entitled to saying it at least once. The second someone comes in and says it a second time though, it will not be pretty. There will be so much under-breath muttering and behind-the-back glares they wont know what hit them. Hopefully one of those glares will be so violent it will pierce their medulla or something.
As we've been setting up all of the Christmas stuff (which we still have two more weeks of, at least), a lot of people around me have voiced their hatred for the holiday season, and one guy in particular kind of pissed me off. He came through with his ugly Nickelback face and awkward stroll all "Fucking Christmas, man. I hate it," to which I asked "Why?" as irritated as possible. He replied "Because everyone's so happy!" I looked up at him and said "And god forbid anyone be happy!" to which he shot me an "Exactly. Everyones all rushing around stressed out blah blah blah.." and this is where I ceased to give him the time of day.
First of all, that didn't even make sense, second of all, you're a Dallas Cowboys fan. Go back to Texas and eat a dick, because we all know the only people who can justify being Cowboys fans are residents of the "everything's bigger" state, and if you're not from there, you're just a tag-along jackass.
Can you tell I don't like this guy? You should just never mix being disliked by me with saying something as ignorant as that. It's never a good combination.
This post is seriously straying though. It was originally about Christmas and I not getting on well and turned into my e-ripping some dude who doesn't matter a new one.
In recent years, Christmas has gotten a lot better and I owe this to being married to a woman who loves said time of year even more than I do. The month (and then some) is filled with christmas music, movies, food, gifting and everything else Christmas and I couldn't ask for more.
This is why being able to start celebrating so early at work is such a welcomed thing for me. I love the decorations and the music and all of the feelings that belong to this time of year because it brings me back to being a kid and all of the imagination and innocence that went along with it then. I welcome it all with open arms, and I welcome it as early as possible because we all need a little innocence back in our lives so we stop taking everything so seriously and remember that we, too, were children once.
So do yourself a favour and bust out your favourite Christmas movie (because I know we all have one), pour a glass of eggnog, throw a little rum in there, and celebrate with me.
You might as well get ready now, because we all know it's coming and that it's unavoidable, so why not deck the halls and embrace it?
Here's to you and yours.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Geographic.
On a trip to Wal-Mart this morning, I decided that I wanted to pick up a National Geographic and read it from cover to cover, just as a personal challenge and guess what? I got from cover to cover. I skipped one article for the time being, but that's only because I wasn't really in a "reading about what parts of the earth still have fertile soil" mood.
Which, as an aside, I really, really dislike when people call soil "dirt". It's so incredibly white trash, and fitting into that demographic is never a good thing, so please don't.
But yes, back to National Geographic. Firstly, I want to add an addition to the previous aside and mention how much I loathe that they've started to refer to themselves as Nat Geo. It's such a "father trying to be "hip" and "with it" to fit in with his sons friends and coming off desperate" move. The marketing team at National Geographic need to realize that they'll always be cool in their own traditional way and they don't need to adopt bullshit abbreviations to fit in with the texting crowd. Just because they're our future, doesn't mean you need to conform to their ways, k?
Secondly, I want to touch upon an article in the one I read today that succeeded a fantastic story of a man who'd been studying elephants for the past 40 years. This story was all about the re-introduction of culling of elephants (a.k.a. using professional hunters to control the population of).
My initial reaction was the same as it always is when I hear about the mass killing of animals for the sake of population control: "who are we to decide how many animals are allowed to thrive at a time?" I just cannot stand that we can even call 100,000 elephants overpopulated and pass laws to eliminate threats to our crops and the such when we, the 6 billion and counting, are causing the extinction of other animals left and right because we're taking their natural habitats to grow our crops in the first place.
It's a fucked up system.
We come in, do what we will with whatever land we want, regardless of the rammifications, and when an animal is on the verge of extinction and our necks are being breathed down, we put the last few in wildlife refuges to re-populate the species, only to knock it back down when it gets out of control.
If thats how it works, why not play god with our own species? Oh, that's right, because when we kill eachother, it's murder and genocide and this and that.
Come on now.
Just because we've come out on top as one of the most intelligent species on the planet, that's no excuse to take it over. How about we use some of that intelligence and recognize how much wrong we do and how hypocritical we are?
All of this wasn't really what I intended to touch upon when I first thought of making this post, but I just can't stand how much we like to think that this planet is ours and everything else upon it is ours for the taking, controlling and manipulating. This does, however, segue nicely into what I wanted to touch upon.
The article mentioned that by reinstating the culling of elephants, a downfall would be an uprising in the hunting of elephants by non-professionals and thus causing an uprising in the retrieving and selling of ivory.
Why?
What the fuck is so special about ivory? I have never understood the whole rarity = appealing thing. Ivory, gold, diamonds, none of it.
It's all bullshit to me that people die over such ultimately trivial material.
We have to stop regarding these things as precious and start realizing that we're destroying what's actually precious in our fight to come out ahead because I don't know about you guys, but the last time I ate a diamond and washed it down with a tall class of gold, followed by some ivory for dessert, it didn't really do much for me.
Which, as an aside, I really, really dislike when people call soil "dirt". It's so incredibly white trash, and fitting into that demographic is never a good thing, so please don't.
But yes, back to National Geographic. Firstly, I want to add an addition to the previous aside and mention how much I loathe that they've started to refer to themselves as Nat Geo. It's such a "father trying to be "hip" and "with it" to fit in with his sons friends and coming off desperate" move. The marketing team at National Geographic need to realize that they'll always be cool in their own traditional way and they don't need to adopt bullshit abbreviations to fit in with the texting crowd. Just because they're our future, doesn't mean you need to conform to their ways, k?
Secondly, I want to touch upon an article in the one I read today that succeeded a fantastic story of a man who'd been studying elephants for the past 40 years. This story was all about the re-introduction of culling of elephants (a.k.a. using professional hunters to control the population of).
My initial reaction was the same as it always is when I hear about the mass killing of animals for the sake of population control: "who are we to decide how many animals are allowed to thrive at a time?" I just cannot stand that we can even call 100,000 elephants overpopulated and pass laws to eliminate threats to our crops and the such when we, the 6 billion and counting, are causing the extinction of other animals left and right because we're taking their natural habitats to grow our crops in the first place.
It's a fucked up system.
We come in, do what we will with whatever land we want, regardless of the rammifications, and when an animal is on the verge of extinction and our necks are being breathed down, we put the last few in wildlife refuges to re-populate the species, only to knock it back down when it gets out of control.
If thats how it works, why not play god with our own species? Oh, that's right, because when we kill eachother, it's murder and genocide and this and that.
Come on now.
Just because we've come out on top as one of the most intelligent species on the planet, that's no excuse to take it over. How about we use some of that intelligence and recognize how much wrong we do and how hypocritical we are?
All of this wasn't really what I intended to touch upon when I first thought of making this post, but I just can't stand how much we like to think that this planet is ours and everything else upon it is ours for the taking, controlling and manipulating. This does, however, segue nicely into what I wanted to touch upon.
The article mentioned that by reinstating the culling of elephants, a downfall would be an uprising in the hunting of elephants by non-professionals and thus causing an uprising in the retrieving and selling of ivory.
Why?
What the fuck is so special about ivory? I have never understood the whole rarity = appealing thing. Ivory, gold, diamonds, none of it.
It's all bullshit to me that people die over such ultimately trivial material.
We have to stop regarding these things as precious and start realizing that we're destroying what's actually precious in our fight to come out ahead because I don't know about you guys, but the last time I ate a diamond and washed it down with a tall class of gold, followed by some ivory for dessert, it didn't really do much for me.
Balance.
Sometime last year, in a fight to figure out what I wanted to go to school for, I had landed on attending IU to make my way through their Telecommunications program with a concentration in the more technical aspect of things. You know, filming, editing, lighting, etc. This decision stemmed from one of my favourite (and I'm sure it's up there on your lists as well) television shows ever, Mythbusters, and how I would give my left pinky to be a part of that production.
As my wonderful wife and I were watching it, I had mentioned this to her (minus the giving up of extremities) and we'd decided that since I'm not much for math and it's extended family required to be a part of the myth team and that since I've always had an interest in filming, that the best way to do this would be to be a part of the production team, more specifically, behind the camera.
Now, it was obviously a long shot to start this up and end up on the set of the Mythbusters, on one hand because they already had a crew, and on the other, would the show even be around when I finished school (god forbid it EVER cease to exist)? This didn't really matter though because once I started, I realized that school, like it used to be, still wasn't for me.
My initial excitement to go back to school was to be able to learn all I didn't care to when I was in high-school. I was going to take maths and sciences and all I could possibly fit into my schedule so I could be a jack of all academia (in a minor fashion, of course). I just wanted to know a litle bit of everything on my way, not only for the sake of boosting my own level of intelect, but to also do better at Jeopardy, of course. We all want to make Alex Trebek proud, don't we?
This proved difficult for me though.
While I wanted to learn all I could, I also wanted (and needed) to do many other things, including spend time with my wife, and multi tasking is something I was never good at. So I coasted, did the work I needed to do to get good grades, and finished out the semester with a 4.0.
Did I learn anything though? Other than the fact that I couldn't do 3 and a half more years of it, not really. Things needed to change, and with a little planning and a few hiccups along the way, things changed to working full time and slowly working on a visual communications degree with a concentration in photography at Ivy Tech.
Sure, this might still take three more years, but being that it's only a two year program, there'll be a lot less classes over those three years, which means more time to do everything else, like spend that time with my wonderful wife, work, keep things in order, and work at all of the other little hobbies that full time school wouldn't have left me much room for.
It may sound like giving up on the four year degree means I'm not willing to work for what I want in life, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I am more than willing to do the work necessary to do and be something, but I will not let it take over my life and render me putting other things on the back burner for the time being.
I am a libra, folks.
Balance is what I am, and I think I'm finally starting to realize this.
As my wonderful wife and I were watching it, I had mentioned this to her (minus the giving up of extremities) and we'd decided that since I'm not much for math and it's extended family required to be a part of the myth team and that since I've always had an interest in filming, that the best way to do this would be to be a part of the production team, more specifically, behind the camera.
Now, it was obviously a long shot to start this up and end up on the set of the Mythbusters, on one hand because they already had a crew, and on the other, would the show even be around when I finished school (god forbid it EVER cease to exist)? This didn't really matter though because once I started, I realized that school, like it used to be, still wasn't for me.
My initial excitement to go back to school was to be able to learn all I didn't care to when I was in high-school. I was going to take maths and sciences and all I could possibly fit into my schedule so I could be a jack of all academia (in a minor fashion, of course). I just wanted to know a litle bit of everything on my way, not only for the sake of boosting my own level of intelect, but to also do better at Jeopardy, of course. We all want to make Alex Trebek proud, don't we?
This proved difficult for me though.
While I wanted to learn all I could, I also wanted (and needed) to do many other things, including spend time with my wife, and multi tasking is something I was never good at. So I coasted, did the work I needed to do to get good grades, and finished out the semester with a 4.0.
Did I learn anything though? Other than the fact that I couldn't do 3 and a half more years of it, not really. Things needed to change, and with a little planning and a few hiccups along the way, things changed to working full time and slowly working on a visual communications degree with a concentration in photography at Ivy Tech.
Sure, this might still take three more years, but being that it's only a two year program, there'll be a lot less classes over those three years, which means more time to do everything else, like spend that time with my wonderful wife, work, keep things in order, and work at all of the other little hobbies that full time school wouldn't have left me much room for.
It may sound like giving up on the four year degree means I'm not willing to work for what I want in life, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I am more than willing to do the work necessary to do and be something, but I will not let it take over my life and render me putting other things on the back burner for the time being.
I am a libra, folks.
Balance is what I am, and I think I'm finally starting to realize this.
Humanitire.
While I've never seen an episode of The Honeymooners, in an attempt to think of a title for this journal (I don't care who's hosting it, I will not, repeat, will NOT call it a blog) the first thing that came to my head was the infamous "straight to the moon" line from said show.
Don't ask me why, because I don't know how my brain works.
Of course, unless my journal was going to be about a race for space, be it fictional or not, the aforementioned rest of the line wouldn't have really fit. But something needed to, and it needed to rhyme with moon, which of course lead me to doing a little more thinking than I wanted.
I had to surf through possible rhymes readily available in my head and eventually, after maybe 5 minutes, I landed on "cartoon".
Why cartoon? And why do I claim I am one? Well, someone once told me I was one and considering one of my ultimate goals in life professionally is to voice act in cartoons, it seemed very fitting.
Of course, most people who meet me wouldn't really head for that word if they had to define me, but that's only because most people don't really know me, and do you know why?
Because I don't want them to.
Aside from something to conquer, I get this feeling there's a reason my level self esteem keeps me reserved, whether it be to retain an element of surprise or simply because people just might not deserve all of me.
Regardless, the simple truth is that we're all ultimately cartoons. We're all a little bit ridiculous and over the top exaggerated at times. Some of us just don't emanate the colour and animation that we relate to said world. What we don't realize though is that cartoons aren't always colourful and exaggerated.
They're simply humourous.
And let's face it people, this planet is chocked full of humour whether you like it or not. We all find different things funny, and we especially find it very easy to laugh at everyone that isn't us, so how are we not all cartoons?
That's all folks.
Don't ask me why, because I don't know how my brain works.
Of course, unless my journal was going to be about a race for space, be it fictional or not, the aforementioned rest of the line wouldn't have really fit. But something needed to, and it needed to rhyme with moon, which of course lead me to doing a little more thinking than I wanted.
I had to surf through possible rhymes readily available in my head and eventually, after maybe 5 minutes, I landed on "cartoon".
Why cartoon? And why do I claim I am one? Well, someone once told me I was one and considering one of my ultimate goals in life professionally is to voice act in cartoons, it seemed very fitting.
Of course, most people who meet me wouldn't really head for that word if they had to define me, but that's only because most people don't really know me, and do you know why?
Because I don't want them to.
Aside from something to conquer, I get this feeling there's a reason my level self esteem keeps me reserved, whether it be to retain an element of surprise or simply because people just might not deserve all of me.
Regardless, the simple truth is that we're all ultimately cartoons. We're all a little bit ridiculous and over the top exaggerated at times. Some of us just don't emanate the colour and animation that we relate to said world. What we don't realize though is that cartoons aren't always colourful and exaggerated.
They're simply humourous.
And let's face it people, this planet is chocked full of humour whether you like it or not. We all find different things funny, and we especially find it very easy to laugh at everyone that isn't us, so how are we not all cartoons?
That's all folks.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Big.
I was struck yesterday by this weird feeling when thinking about the world and the places we all grow up, but I couldn't really figure out what the feeling was. I think it might possibly have been overwhelm. I mean, to speak incredibly stoner for a second, this planet is, like, huge. There is a massive amount of separation between homo sapiens sapiens upon this planet and for some of us to end up one place and others to end up another place, I just get hit with a really big feeling.
Of course I realize this distance is something we all (probably) grasped much, much earlier in our lives, but do any one of us really stop to think about just how big this place is? Forget for a second that there are bigger planets and a supposed never-ending span of space beyond our globe we call the universe. Imagine that the earth is the biggest thing you know of and think about just how big it is.
Think about the places you've traveled and the amount of time it has taken you to get to these places, and now imagine the conveniences of planes, trains and automobiles no longer existed and that you had to find your way from point A to point B on foot. Think for a second how often you DO go places by foot.
I'm willing to bet that whenever walking somewhere crosses your mind (provided it crosses some of your minds at all), it's not only dismissed (unless you're drunk), but you even get this sense of pain within of just how FAR it is to walk that distance. I know I have a hard time even making the 200 foot trip across the courtyard for laundering purposes.
But why?
People used to (and in some cultures, still do) spend their entire days simply walking. Not for exercise or to get to anywhere specific, but simply to move on for the sake of survival; to find fresh water and food and hope that they don't perish on the way.
Then there's the penguins! Don't even get me started on those penguins.
I just think that it is incredibly unfortunate that we live in a world where there is so much distance that we've come to dictate our abilities to reach across the globe (and virtually everything else) by how much money is in our bank account and the amount of time we can take off work to do so.
I think it's unfortunate that we've settled for pictures in books, or if we're lucky (lucky!) the sights and sounds on our television screens in order to explore this planet. Does that not just feel like a tease? Do you not see these things and feel like someones rubbing it in your face that they've been there and were able to capture these moments on film so that you can sit on your couch and enjoy the things they've seen (probably not, but I imagine some of you might now).
Sure there are some places and things that would be terrifying to experience yourself and so it's much more comfortable to be able to see it electronically because you know your TV is not going to shoot, maul, or incinerate you where you stand, but hell, if you're smart enough, you'd be able to avoid meeting your demise in these fashions and yet still see what this world has to offer and stop being so afraid.
We should all want to explore this place and make a point and plans to do so. We owe this to ourselves because it's our home and how are we supposed to feel comfortable living in a home full of strange people and places?
That big feeling? I think it was ignorance.
Of course I realize this distance is something we all (probably) grasped much, much earlier in our lives, but do any one of us really stop to think about just how big this place is? Forget for a second that there are bigger planets and a supposed never-ending span of space beyond our globe we call the universe. Imagine that the earth is the biggest thing you know of and think about just how big it is.
Think about the places you've traveled and the amount of time it has taken you to get to these places, and now imagine the conveniences of planes, trains and automobiles no longer existed and that you had to find your way from point A to point B on foot. Think for a second how often you DO go places by foot.
I'm willing to bet that whenever walking somewhere crosses your mind (provided it crosses some of your minds at all), it's not only dismissed (unless you're drunk), but you even get this sense of pain within of just how FAR it is to walk that distance. I know I have a hard time even making the 200 foot trip across the courtyard for laundering purposes.
But why?
People used to (and in some cultures, still do) spend their entire days simply walking. Not for exercise or to get to anywhere specific, but simply to move on for the sake of survival; to find fresh water and food and hope that they don't perish on the way.
Then there's the penguins! Don't even get me started on those penguins.
I just think that it is incredibly unfortunate that we live in a world where there is so much distance that we've come to dictate our abilities to reach across the globe (and virtually everything else) by how much money is in our bank account and the amount of time we can take off work to do so.
I think it's unfortunate that we've settled for pictures in books, or if we're lucky (lucky!) the sights and sounds on our television screens in order to explore this planet. Does that not just feel like a tease? Do you not see these things and feel like someones rubbing it in your face that they've been there and were able to capture these moments on film so that you can sit on your couch and enjoy the things they've seen (probably not, but I imagine some of you might now).
Sure there are some places and things that would be terrifying to experience yourself and so it's much more comfortable to be able to see it electronically because you know your TV is not going to shoot, maul, or incinerate you where you stand, but hell, if you're smart enough, you'd be able to avoid meeting your demise in these fashions and yet still see what this world has to offer and stop being so afraid.
We should all want to explore this place and make a point and plans to do so. We owe this to ourselves because it's our home and how are we supposed to feel comfortable living in a home full of strange people and places?
That big feeling? I think it was ignorance.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Shoes.
I used to journal online quite a bit.
"Journal? Don't you mean blog?"
No, I don't. May I continue?
You see, once upon a time, in a galaxy not so far, far away, I was bitter, so that made it easy for me because I could just say things like "fuck shoes!" and it would fly (or I guess I should say "and I ran with it"), because I felt like I was allowed to hate whatever I wanted and feel justified in my..... feeling.
Don't get me wrong, I still don't really like shoes, but to voice it just seems so unnecessary now. I mean, I'm happily married to an amazing woman (understatement) with an adorable (yet sometimes unbelievably aggravating) puppy in a highly liberal (which I like to claim I am) town working a full time job that doesn't suck (notice I'm being a pessimistic optimist on this one) and am slowly hacking away at a photography degree, which is something I love to do.
So why, if I have so much good in my life, would I take the time to voice my dislike for les souliers?
Because it's SO. MUCH. EASIER.
Love is a difficult thing to voice to the masses, you know? Each and every one of us loves in different ways and when it all comes down to it, it's personal, intimate and none of your god damn business. All I will say about love is that there are many things I love in my life, but talking about the things I don't is just so much more entertaining, especially since dislike is a pretty common thing among the populated earth.
Don't get me wrong for a second time. To speak in opposition to love, there are very, VERY few things I hate. I am not a hater. I am simply a disliker. For me to hate would mean that I am ignorant. I'm not. I am fully aware that there are reasons that I am not a fan of certain things, be they lessons to be learnt or simply to contrast anothers love in the whole battle of good and evil scheme of things. I am much too intelligent (and lazy) to waste any of my time hating.
Anyways, you may be reading all of this but are still having a hard time grasping onto a word I've said because you're still trying to figure out how I can possibly dislike something like shoes. You're probably wondering if because I'm not keen to foot fashion, do I even wear shoes? Well of course I do. Not only because in many places it's required by law, but, I mean, above all, they protect our feet, right? I like my fet to be safe, and hell, some of them are neat to look at!
However, in a world where there exists a fictional group of beings called Hobbits, entities which are fully capable of walking wherever, whenever they like completely barefoot, a man becomes jealous. I love nothing more than to be barefoot. Sorry baby. If I could do it all over again, I'd marry the concept of being barefoot, because my god (figure of speech) how liberating.
Unfortunately, not only are the aforemetioned laws in place, but because civilization has evolved into not giving a shit, foot protection is absolutely necessary, as can be deduced when regarding the two inch scar on my market piggy. I mean, when a man can't even play frisbee in a park without ending up bleeding profusely from here to eternity, you know something went wrong somewhere.
But where?
Was it the invetion of glass? Was it the invention of a frisbee? Was it the invention of a park? Was it the invention of man? Of course, you'd have to beleive in creationism to go for the latter.
What I'm getting at here is that the shoe is just a cover up for something we did wrong.
Sure they're a vitally important article of clothing in the extinguishing of massive fires, but hell, had we not created fire in the first place our feet wouldn't need protecting from them, yeah?
Natural forest fires don't count either because they're NATURAL. They weren't meant to be fought.
Human beings in their quest to be the all mighty rulers of earth and the discovery of all that it contains just never really think twice about whether their discoveries were meant to be discovered. They automatically think that they discovered it for a reason and that that reason is for the greater good and don't even bother looking at it from the other perspective of maybe it was better left undiscovered.
Of course I'm being silly implying that fire or even shoes may have been better left undiscovered/invented, but the specifics aren't whats important in this post now, are they?
Wait... are they?
"Journal? Don't you mean blog?"
No, I don't. May I continue?
You see, once upon a time, in a galaxy not so far, far away, I was bitter, so that made it easy for me because I could just say things like "fuck shoes!" and it would fly (or I guess I should say "and I ran with it"), because I felt like I was allowed to hate whatever I wanted and feel justified in my..... feeling.
Don't get me wrong, I still don't really like shoes, but to voice it just seems so unnecessary now. I mean, I'm happily married to an amazing woman (understatement) with an adorable (yet sometimes unbelievably aggravating) puppy in a highly liberal (which I like to claim I am) town working a full time job that doesn't suck (notice I'm being a pessimistic optimist on this one) and am slowly hacking away at a photography degree, which is something I love to do.
So why, if I have so much good in my life, would I take the time to voice my dislike for les souliers?
Because it's SO. MUCH. EASIER.
Love is a difficult thing to voice to the masses, you know? Each and every one of us loves in different ways and when it all comes down to it, it's personal, intimate and none of your god damn business. All I will say about love is that there are many things I love in my life, but talking about the things I don't is just so much more entertaining, especially since dislike is a pretty common thing among the populated earth.
Don't get me wrong for a second time. To speak in opposition to love, there are very, VERY few things I hate. I am not a hater. I am simply a disliker. For me to hate would mean that I am ignorant. I'm not. I am fully aware that there are reasons that I am not a fan of certain things, be they lessons to be learnt or simply to contrast anothers love in the whole battle of good and evil scheme of things. I am much too intelligent (and lazy) to waste any of my time hating.
Anyways, you may be reading all of this but are still having a hard time grasping onto a word I've said because you're still trying to figure out how I can possibly dislike something like shoes. You're probably wondering if because I'm not keen to foot fashion, do I even wear shoes? Well of course I do. Not only because in many places it's required by law, but, I mean, above all, they protect our feet, right? I like my fet to be safe, and hell, some of them are neat to look at!
However, in a world where there exists a fictional group of beings called Hobbits, entities which are fully capable of walking wherever, whenever they like completely barefoot, a man becomes jealous. I love nothing more than to be barefoot. Sorry baby. If I could do it all over again, I'd marry the concept of being barefoot, because my god (figure of speech) how liberating.
Unfortunately, not only are the aforemetioned laws in place, but because civilization has evolved into not giving a shit, foot protection is absolutely necessary, as can be deduced when regarding the two inch scar on my market piggy. I mean, when a man can't even play frisbee in a park without ending up bleeding profusely from here to eternity, you know something went wrong somewhere.
But where?
Was it the invetion of glass? Was it the invention of a frisbee? Was it the invention of a park? Was it the invention of man? Of course, you'd have to beleive in creationism to go for the latter.
What I'm getting at here is that the shoe is just a cover up for something we did wrong.
Sure they're a vitally important article of clothing in the extinguishing of massive fires, but hell, had we not created fire in the first place our feet wouldn't need protecting from them, yeah?
Natural forest fires don't count either because they're NATURAL. They weren't meant to be fought.
Human beings in their quest to be the all mighty rulers of earth and the discovery of all that it contains just never really think twice about whether their discoveries were meant to be discovered. They automatically think that they discovered it for a reason and that that reason is for the greater good and don't even bother looking at it from the other perspective of maybe it was better left undiscovered.
Of course I'm being silly implying that fire or even shoes may have been better left undiscovered/invented, but the specifics aren't whats important in this post now, are they?
Wait... are they?
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