"If a businessman does what he thinks will keep his business making money, it is good for his employees and by extension his society."
-TV news personality
For small businesses, the statement is easily self-evident.
We applaud small business owners who help their communities by providing goods/services and employment.
For corporations, it's a whole 'nuther ballgame.
Corporations seem to help communities by building factories or offices and hiring locals en masse.
Of course, as we saw with General Motors, the corporate jobs become a part of the booming community's foundation, so when the inevitable layoffs come (once again en masse), the community founders in a sea of unemployment.
A businessman who "does what he thinks will keep his business making money" by cutting employees' wages to ludicrous levels, denying health insurance or other benefits, or simply laying off huge numbers of people, all the while making record profits for himself, does a huge injury to the community, and to society.
Especially when all of the corporate businessmen get together and realize they can enrich themselves dramatically by universally adopting the above policies.
Which is what has happened.
Thus the economy sinks, unemployment skyrockets, and even those who HAVE jobs can't get by without federal aid or incurring debt.
All while those corporate businessmen rake in huge profits year after year and just keep getting fatter.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Friday, November 4, 2011
Occupy the Faculty Lounge
Seems the Occupy Wall Street crowd is also going after colleges.
It seems like what's being demanded is simply a return on the investment.
We've created a culture in which college is treated as the only possible path to a happy, fulfilling adult life.
I've been told on several occasions that "it doesn't matter what your degree is in, just GET ONE."
Especially by my parents.
My mother graduated in 1978 with a BA in Music Education.
Her first post-graduation job was as a secretary for a branch office of Coca Cola.
She had never been a secretary, never worked for Coca Cola, and didn't know anyone at the branch.
But she had a degree.
Her competition was a lady who had several years of secretary experience, worked for Coca Cola at another branch office, and had several friends at the office my mom was shooting for.
But she had no college degree.
My mom got the job.
Now to me, that sounds like a horrible business practice, hiring due to an arbitrary education which (on the outside) has little or no connection to the actual job rather than due to experience and promoting within the company.
But that story and many others have been dangled in the faces of my generation since we were kids, that the time and [massive amounts of] money required to get a degree will pay for themselves eventually.
I don't think the government should be responsible for arbitrarily handing out high-paying jobs to Gender Studies majors, but more of the federal budget should definitely be funneled into Pell Grants.
College tuition has risen drastically in the last twenty years, while Pell funds stayed stagnant.
More incentives to wait to start college would help as well, especially for kids who aren't mature enough to handle living on their own right out of high school.
Internships, work-study jobs that expose students to the real world while helping them earn general education credits, and on-the-job training from actual companies would all help that process.
Waiting longer and being pickier in choosing school and degree would help lower the number of college dropouts.
Or, God forbid, the kid learns from these programs that he/she doesn't actually need to go to college.
Also, colleges should be required to make public their graduation rates, not just enrollments.
Too many schools have turned into freshmen factories, trying to get as many people in the door without any kind of support for them once they're in.
I wouldn't mind some counseling prior to enrollment as well, if only to ask the prospective college student "Why are you here?"
Some need to be reminded that they are adults, and should make decisions based on their own thoughts and feelings rather than peer or parental pressure.
It seems like what's being demanded is simply a return on the investment.
We've created a culture in which college is treated as the only possible path to a happy, fulfilling adult life.
I've been told on several occasions that "it doesn't matter what your degree is in, just GET ONE."
Especially by my parents.
My mother graduated in 1978 with a BA in Music Education.
Her first post-graduation job was as a secretary for a branch office of Coca Cola.
She had never been a secretary, never worked for Coca Cola, and didn't know anyone at the branch.
But she had a degree.
Her competition was a lady who had several years of secretary experience, worked for Coca Cola at another branch office, and had several friends at the office my mom was shooting for.
But she had no college degree.
My mom got the job.
Now to me, that sounds like a horrible business practice, hiring due to an arbitrary education which (on the outside) has little or no connection to the actual job rather than due to experience and promoting within the company.
But that story and many others have been dangled in the faces of my generation since we were kids, that the time and [massive amounts of] money required to get a degree will pay for themselves eventually.
I don't think the government should be responsible for arbitrarily handing out high-paying jobs to Gender Studies majors, but more of the federal budget should definitely be funneled into Pell Grants.
College tuition has risen drastically in the last twenty years, while Pell funds stayed stagnant.
More incentives to wait to start college would help as well, especially for kids who aren't mature enough to handle living on their own right out of high school.
Internships, work-study jobs that expose students to the real world while helping them earn general education credits, and on-the-job training from actual companies would all help that process.
Waiting longer and being pickier in choosing school and degree would help lower the number of college dropouts.
Or, God forbid, the kid learns from these programs that he/she doesn't actually need to go to college.
Also, colleges should be required to make public their graduation rates, not just enrollments.
Too many schools have turned into freshmen factories, trying to get as many people in the door without any kind of support for them once they're in.
I wouldn't mind some counseling prior to enrollment as well, if only to ask the prospective college student "Why are you here?"
Some need to be reminded that they are adults, and should make decisions based on their own thoughts and feelings rather than peer or parental pressure.
Friday, October 28, 2011
SSSSSMOKIN'!
I spent three years watching my girlfriend's mom gradually succumb to cancer because she smoked cigarettes for 37 years.
She had two tumors on each lung, and was pronounced "in the clear" after three surgeries and months of radiation and chemo.
A month later she started having headaches, and a tumor was discovered inside her brain, having metastasized from her lungs.
She had seven brain surgeries, another year of chemo and "cyberknife" (aka hyper-intense radiation) treatments, and in the end she died in her living room as her mother (my then-girlfriend's grandmother) tried to help her take pain pills anally because her throat no longer functioned.
She also had lupus and rheumatoid arthritis BEFORE being diagnosed with cancer.
I married her daughter three months after her death.
The thing which blows my mind is that several of this lady's relatives, who ALL saw what she went through and KNEW why she was forced to experience it, have since STARTED SMOKING.
I understand that if you've had the habit for years/decades it can be a struggle to quit.
What I don't understand is the people every year who, with all of the above type information available to them, START smoking.
There's just no excuse for that kind of stupidity nowadays.
We don't have TV/radio/Internet commercials for cigarettes, especially ones like they had in the 50's which encouraged "good" smoking, or the little pamphlets which detailed the health benefits of smoking cigarettes.
I should probably specify that I'm mainly going after CIGARETTE smokers.
Usually, pipe and cigar smokers are at home or outside when they smoke, and because more work went into producing what they are smoking, they tend to consume less (and produce less second-hand smoke).
Cigarette smokers, on the other hand, are MASS consumers, plowing through quickie after quickie, day after day, and polluting the air the rest of us were using before they showed up.
I've never heard of a two-pack-a-day CIGAR smoker.
Now, how should this play out on the legal end?
Keep cigarettes legal, legalize marijuana, and charge users of both out the wazoo in special sales taxes, production taxes, etc.
Do so, knowing that no marijuana user worth his/her/its salt is going to go farther away for it than their own backyard.
She had two tumors on each lung, and was pronounced "in the clear" after three surgeries and months of radiation and chemo.
A month later she started having headaches, and a tumor was discovered inside her brain, having metastasized from her lungs.
She had seven brain surgeries, another year of chemo and "cyberknife" (aka hyper-intense radiation) treatments, and in the end she died in her living room as her mother (my then-girlfriend's grandmother) tried to help her take pain pills anally because her throat no longer functioned.
She also had lupus and rheumatoid arthritis BEFORE being diagnosed with cancer.
I married her daughter three months after her death.
The thing which blows my mind is that several of this lady's relatives, who ALL saw what she went through and KNEW why she was forced to experience it, have since STARTED SMOKING.
I understand that if you've had the habit for years/decades it can be a struggle to quit.
What I don't understand is the people every year who, with all of the above type information available to them, START smoking.
There's just no excuse for that kind of stupidity nowadays.
We don't have TV/radio/Internet commercials for cigarettes, especially ones like they had in the 50's which encouraged "good" smoking, or the little pamphlets which detailed the health benefits of smoking cigarettes.
I should probably specify that I'm mainly going after CIGARETTE smokers.
Usually, pipe and cigar smokers are at home or outside when they smoke, and because more work went into producing what they are smoking, they tend to consume less (and produce less second-hand smoke).
Cigarette smokers, on the other hand, are MASS consumers, plowing through quickie after quickie, day after day, and polluting the air the rest of us were using before they showed up.
I've never heard of a two-pack-a-day CIGAR smoker.
Now, how should this play out on the legal end?
Keep cigarettes legal, legalize marijuana, and charge users of both out the wazoo in special sales taxes, production taxes, etc.
Do so, knowing that no marijuana user worth his/her/its salt is going to go farther away for it than their own backyard.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Kids Leaving Church
Recently read an article describing several big reasons why my and younger generations are leaving "the church" in droves.
Inflexibility, hypocrisy, irrationally repressed sexuality, refusal to explain the reasoning behind doctrines and church traditions, and lack of authentic experience were among them.
A few years ago I made it a point to become friends with at least four people of different faiths.
Ended up with two Atheists, an agnostic, and a Pagan.
All four were raised in church (this is the Bible Belt after all), and by adulthood had summarily ditched the whole thing.
They grew up being spoon-fed doctrine and dogma, all the while becoming increasingly aware that the "church people" around them weren't demonstrating any behavior different from the people "outside" whom the churchy people would vocally demonize every week.
All "Christianity" had to offer my friends was a bribe ("Heaven") combined with a threat ("Hell"), with no real life-changing effects in the interim.
For all but the Pagan, the rationale became:
"None of these 'religions' have anything but their own bleatings to offer anyone! Why waste my time?"
The Pagan, a girl with great spiritual sensitivity, unable to break away completely from all things spiritual, instead sought a more open group of people with whom to commune with higher existence.
The rise of technology has demonstrated the value of scientific thought and research, so for "Christians" to come down against it is hypocritical.
Nothing like hearing a sermon bashing scientific research on evolution while reading one's Bible on an iPhone or Kindle.
With the advent of the Internet, children, teens, and young adults from ALL backgrounds and ALL walks of life have access to more information than ever before.
As a result, the days of "God said it, I believe it, and that settles it" are now prehistoric in perception.
The idea of taking what ANYONE says as automatically true is farcical at best, dangerously ludicrous at worst.
There is always a WHY behind every statement the church or the mosque or the synagogue or the witch's circle makes.
Young people today have made the WHY their target, and refuse to accept the WHAT or the WHO or the WHEN or the HOW without it.
As for sexuality...
In my lifetime alone, the church has attempted to clamp down on sexual expression time and time again.
The only results have been sexual repression in adults, and sexual proclivity in kids.
Parents and church leaders and "church people" need to get out of their little fortresses of solitude and recognize that kids are asking about sex earlier and earlier than they ever have before.
If you want to influence your child's decisions regarding sex, you have to VOLUNTEER THE INFORMATION.
My high school alma mater in Texas, a school of about 1200 kids, once held the #2 spot in the STATE for highest percentage of drop outs due to pregnancy.
(can't speak for the present, since I haven't checked in awhile)
The sexual atmosphere has been so repressed for so long, by old churchy people who treat the whole thing as "icky", that the MOMENT most of the teens raised in poverty start feeling the urge, they GO FOR IT.
...and having had zero education on the subject, from teachers and church people alike, they crank out another generation statistically doomed to repeat the process.
Personal experience time.
I had sex before I was married. I gave up my virginity at age 17.
I'd been addicted to porn for almost four years prior, and had never had a girlfriend until about a year before I first had sex.
I was given ZERO information by my parents, I was given PLATITUDES by my church family.
The only reason it didn't result in a pregnancy is because HER parents and HER church family had educated her from day one of puberty on how to have an enjoyable, intimate, pregnancy-free sex life.
We broke up after dating for three years.
My wife and I also had sex before we were married.
I'd gone without sex for almost two years (another thing I was never informed of was that sex is like an amazing, natural drug: gotta have more after that first taste), and she, though never having been in even a short-term relationship before, had decided (after a long, calm, informative month of research) she was ready to lose her virginity.
What started as a fling, God turned into a lifetime of intimacy and selfless sacrifice.
My generation, and those which follow after, will continue to be forced to discover sexuality for ourselves, whether online or in the back seat of a car, because the church has spent the last centuries demonizing the naked human form.
Sexual sins have been treated as Satan's "favorites," i.e. those most offensive to God, for generations.
Thus a natural progression to "better avoid sex entirely so you don't do one of Satan's favorite sins!" has occurred.
The church needs to quit talking about sex with kid gloves on, get out of the fortress of chastity it has built for itself, and give younger generations something MORE than just the same old bleating platitudes.
And I'm not even broaching the subject of homosexuality in young (or old) people.
Inflexibility, hypocrisy, irrationally repressed sexuality, refusal to explain the reasoning behind doctrines and church traditions, and lack of authentic experience were among them.
A few years ago I made it a point to become friends with at least four people of different faiths.
Ended up with two Atheists, an agnostic, and a Pagan.
All four were raised in church (this is the Bible Belt after all), and by adulthood had summarily ditched the whole thing.
They grew up being spoon-fed doctrine and dogma, all the while becoming increasingly aware that the "church people" around them weren't demonstrating any behavior different from the people "outside" whom the churchy people would vocally demonize every week.
All "Christianity" had to offer my friends was a bribe ("Heaven") combined with a threat ("Hell"), with no real life-changing effects in the interim.
For all but the Pagan, the rationale became:
"None of these 'religions' have anything but their own bleatings to offer anyone! Why waste my time?"
The Pagan, a girl with great spiritual sensitivity, unable to break away completely from all things spiritual, instead sought a more open group of people with whom to commune with higher existence.
The rise of technology has demonstrated the value of scientific thought and research, so for "Christians" to come down against it is hypocritical.
Nothing like hearing a sermon bashing scientific research on evolution while reading one's Bible on an iPhone or Kindle.
With the advent of the Internet, children, teens, and young adults from ALL backgrounds and ALL walks of life have access to more information than ever before.
As a result, the days of "God said it, I believe it, and that settles it" are now prehistoric in perception.
The idea of taking what ANYONE says as automatically true is farcical at best, dangerously ludicrous at worst.
There is always a WHY behind every statement the church or the mosque or the synagogue or the witch's circle makes.
Young people today have made the WHY their target, and refuse to accept the WHAT or the WHO or the WHEN or the HOW without it.
As for sexuality...
In my lifetime alone, the church has attempted to clamp down on sexual expression time and time again.
The only results have been sexual repression in adults, and sexual proclivity in kids.
Parents and church leaders and "church people" need to get out of their little fortresses of solitude and recognize that kids are asking about sex earlier and earlier than they ever have before.
If you want to influence your child's decisions regarding sex, you have to VOLUNTEER THE INFORMATION.
My high school alma mater in Texas, a school of about 1200 kids, once held the #2 spot in the STATE for highest percentage of drop outs due to pregnancy.
(can't speak for the present, since I haven't checked in awhile)
The sexual atmosphere has been so repressed for so long, by old churchy people who treat the whole thing as "icky", that the MOMENT most of the teens raised in poverty start feeling the urge, they GO FOR IT.
...and having had zero education on the subject, from teachers and church people alike, they crank out another generation statistically doomed to repeat the process.
Personal experience time.
I had sex before I was married. I gave up my virginity at age 17.
I'd been addicted to porn for almost four years prior, and had never had a girlfriend until about a year before I first had sex.
I was given ZERO information by my parents, I was given PLATITUDES by my church family.
The only reason it didn't result in a pregnancy is because HER parents and HER church family had educated her from day one of puberty on how to have an enjoyable, intimate, pregnancy-free sex life.
We broke up after dating for three years.
My wife and I also had sex before we were married.
I'd gone without sex for almost two years (another thing I was never informed of was that sex is like an amazing, natural drug: gotta have more after that first taste), and she, though never having been in even a short-term relationship before, had decided (after a long, calm, informative month of research) she was ready to lose her virginity.
What started as a fling, God turned into a lifetime of intimacy and selfless sacrifice.
My generation, and those which follow after, will continue to be forced to discover sexuality for ourselves, whether online or in the back seat of a car, because the church has spent the last centuries demonizing the naked human form.
Sexual sins have been treated as Satan's "favorites," i.e. those most offensive to God, for generations.
Thus a natural progression to "better avoid sex entirely so you don't do one of Satan's favorite sins!" has occurred.
The church needs to quit talking about sex with kid gloves on, get out of the fortress of chastity it has built for itself, and give younger generations something MORE than just the same old bleating platitudes.
And I'm not even broaching the subject of homosexuality in young (or old) people.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Children and Technology
Technology hasn't made children any more or less intelligent.
It's just made them older, regardless of their number of years.
My 11 year-old nephew knows more about the world than I did at 15.
Information is as close as a few clicks to children, and as a result of more available information, more is now required earlier and earlier.
Technological innovation has shifted the type of intelligence desired by employers, which is and has always been the determining factor in education.
The whole education system is not designed to build creative, critical thinkers who are constantly taking in new information and sifting through it using finely tuned analytical skills.
The system is designed to create worker bees who might have a hobby or two outside the hive.
Thus we have older adults going through midlife crises when their status as worker bee finally becomes obvious, younger adults refusing to become worker bees and thus being accused of letting the country go down the toilet, teens dropping like flies under the pressure to have their entire lives planned out by age 16 (at the extreme latest), and children already hating school because they know what's coming.
All of this is simply the result of a flawed system finally being exposed for what it is, and (thanks to technology) that exposure being put on display to millions who don't want to end up like their parents.
It's just made them older, regardless of their number of years.
My 11 year-old nephew knows more about the world than I did at 15.
Information is as close as a few clicks to children, and as a result of more available information, more is now required earlier and earlier.
Technological innovation has shifted the type of intelligence desired by employers, which is and has always been the determining factor in education.
The whole education system is not designed to build creative, critical thinkers who are constantly taking in new information and sifting through it using finely tuned analytical skills.
The system is designed to create worker bees who might have a hobby or two outside the hive.
Thus we have older adults going through midlife crises when their status as worker bee finally becomes obvious, younger adults refusing to become worker bees and thus being accused of letting the country go down the toilet, teens dropping like flies under the pressure to have their entire lives planned out by age 16 (at the extreme latest), and children already hating school because they know what's coming.
All of this is simply the result of a flawed system finally being exposed for what it is, and (thanks to technology) that exposure being put on display to millions who don't want to end up like their parents.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Afraid to Leave the House...because of the gays?
Recently heard about a mother of 7 in Massachusetts who is afraid to leave her house or let her children play outside because gay people are out there.
Massachusetts is one of the states which has formally recognized gay marriage, FYI.
Essentially, this woman complains that because she votes and pays her taxes, she should have the ability to influence her community as she sees fit.
Only problem with that logic is the gays in the neighborhood ALSO vote and pay taxes, so whose "as I see fit" gets more weight?
The whole situation basically falls to a simple statement:
Older people who grew up with a specific paradigm of the status quo cannot and will not admit that the status quo has changed.
This has been the case since the dawn of humanity, whether it's the old man who preferred being cold because a young man discovered fire or the old man who thinks only a man and a woman should be able to marry or have any romantic relationship whatsoever because a young man decided to be honest with himself and find a nice boyfriend.
As has also always been the case, there are exceptions to the above ageistic blanket statement.
There were old men more than willing to learn how to make fire.
There were young men who thought the stubborn old men knew better than the idealistic young man with his talk of cooked meat and a warmer cave in winter.
Ian McKellen is 72, yet openly professes his self-awareness and self-honesty.
However, for the seeming majority, the only solution is to complain and complain and try to violate others' rights and get in the way of the evolution of human society.
At least until they die out.
Which the old bigots will, and their children and grandchildren will be raised on a paradigm of the status quo different from them, just as the bigots were raised on a different paradigm than THEIR parents and grandparents.
And the beat goes on...
Massachusetts is one of the states which has formally recognized gay marriage, FYI.
Essentially, this woman complains that because she votes and pays her taxes, she should have the ability to influence her community as she sees fit.
Only problem with that logic is the gays in the neighborhood ALSO vote and pay taxes, so whose "as I see fit" gets more weight?
The whole situation basically falls to a simple statement:
Older people who grew up with a specific paradigm of the status quo cannot and will not admit that the status quo has changed.
This has been the case since the dawn of humanity, whether it's the old man who preferred being cold because a young man discovered fire or the old man who thinks only a man and a woman should be able to marry or have any romantic relationship whatsoever because a young man decided to be honest with himself and find a nice boyfriend.
As has also always been the case, there are exceptions to the above ageistic blanket statement.
There were old men more than willing to learn how to make fire.
There were young men who thought the stubborn old men knew better than the idealistic young man with his talk of cooked meat and a warmer cave in winter.
Ian McKellen is 72, yet openly professes his self-awareness and self-honesty.
However, for the seeming majority, the only solution is to complain and complain and try to violate others' rights and get in the way of the evolution of human society.
At least until they die out.
Which the old bigots will, and their children and grandchildren will be raised on a paradigm of the status quo different from them, just as the bigots were raised on a different paradigm than THEIR parents and grandparents.
And the beat goes on...
Friday, September 16, 2011
Attraction
“Yo dude! Come join the séance, man.” Tweaker waved me over to the circle of couches in OCCC’s main corridor. The late August sun blazed through the massive windows to sear my eyelids as Bobby moved his backpack to make room.
“Welcome to the loser’s circle, the divine nothingness, the black hole of higher education,” said Bobby. I tossed my stuff on the floor.
“Ya’ll talking about us, or O-Trip in general?”
“Hey man, if the brochures are to be believed, we’re one and the same.” Tweaker successfully achieved an even deeper slouch into the recesses of his chair.
“Since when do you pay attention to paperwork? You barely got your application and enrollment done yesterday.” I fished a Reese’s from the depths of my bag. Bobby readjusted his meditation position.
“It is not the moment of an action which gives it meaning, but the will with which it is accomplished. In the end, all we have is the ability to act, and the will to act deliberately.”
“Bleh. Bobby found Buddha this summer. Too bad the fat guy’s just another creation of the wealthy to keep the poor underfoot while they march toward a one-world government.” Tweaker produced a cigarette inhaler from his denim vest, inhaling harder than the recommended usage. He noticed my attention. “This piece of shit is the only thing I can have in my mouth around here. Doesn’t fucking matter that I’ve never smoked a cig in my life.”
“Yeah, but life would be too easy if they made an inhaler shaped like a joint.” I started on my second Reese’s cup. I found myself tempted to ask what Tweaker did with all his free time over the last three months of transition from high school to college, but it seemed redundant given the inhaler protruding from his lips. Bobby bounced out of his reverie and chair.
“So what’s your first class?” he asked from the floor.
“Psych. I’ve heard the prof’s a total bore. Some old guy more obsessed with proving Freud wrong than actually getting his students to learn anything.”
“Total drag, man.” Tweaker hopped out of his chair. “Anybody else bored as all hell?”
“Yeah. Still have an hour before class. Wanna head to the courtyard for a smoke?” I grabbed a pack of menthols from my bag. Bobby hopped up and scooped up his in a single motion.
“I desire to inhale the ecstasy of the universe, but dammit I’ve been craving one of those all day!”
A slight breeze welcomed us onto the dry turf of the courtyard, tiny green weeds pushing up to look grassier than the grass. Bobby and I lit up as Tweaker continued to breathe straight through his inhaler.
“Ya’ll have another one to spare?” A voice behind me made me turn to see a dream come true. A tidal wave of auburn hair cascaded over bare shoulders and a purple tank top which barely contained her anatomy, to say nothing of concealing anything, down to tight jeans and matching purple flip-flops.
“Er…um…yeah, sure.” It took me way too many tries to get another cig from the pack, my hands shaking as she leaned in to take it from my fingers with her teeth after I forgot to move to hand it to her.
“So, you new here?” Her voice flowed like satin on satin. My nose caught her fiery sweet scent on the breeze, blocking out the smoky smell of our cigarettes.
“Uh, yeah. First day.” Yeah, that was eloquent. Keep that up and you’ll be in her pants, comparing tampon brands. She laughed.
“Oh good, mine too. My first class starts in about forty-five minutes.”
“Really? Mine too.” Great, we have as much common ground as two people in the drive-thru at Wendy’s. Bobby, who had materialized on the other side of the courtyard, called over.
“Hey Jeremy, we’re gonna bail. Have to get Tweaker’s books before he forgets again.”
“Okay, see ya’ll later.” I waved to them. Tweaker waved back with a Cheshire grin.
“Good luck, bro! Good hunting!” I knocked the ashes off my cig and took another pull. God, why couldn’t he have just left? I’m about to crap myself as it is. The sound of exhaled cigarette smoke brought me back to the moment.
“So, Jeremy, why are you here? Seems like everybody has a reason for coming to O-Trip.” Her satin-on-satin voice nearly overwhelmed me again.
“I sucked in high school. I want to go to OU and major in psychology, but I can’t until my GPA’s higher.” I kept the cig in my lips, undecided if I should keep my hands in my pockets or rub them together, all in an attempt to stop the shaking.
“Really? I want to switch to OU too. They have great opportunities over there, but for now I’m stuck here.” She took a final pull at her cig, then extinguished it in the dirt. “I’m Rebecca, by the way. What attracts you to psych?” I followed suit.
“I like understanding what makes people tick. Plus I’m interested in the mechanics of attraction.” I couldn’t help but keep eye contact as I spoke. Ah hell, did I just get direct and blunt? All the experts I’ve read said direct equals directly rejected! My anxiety kept me so busy I didn’t hear her response until the second time. “What?”
“I said, I’d like to explore those mechanics with you sometime.” The satin-on-satin danced around in my brain. Rebecca moved so close I could feel her breath on my cheek. The menthol-flavored cig smell made my nose tingle, melding with her natural scent to slam into the pleasure center of my brain like a wrecking ball. “How about dinner tonight?”
Really? Are you serious? I wanted to shout. Reason took over. Play it cool, play it cool. “Sounds great! Uh, let me give you my number.” Two simultaneous phone deployments later, I felt more excited than I had in years, almost too excited to notice Rebecca moving in close again. Her scent overwhelmed me, but this time she didn’t stop moving until our lips had met and parted. She glanced at her watch.
“Oops, my class starts in ten minutes.” She moved toward the doors back inside. “See you tonight, Jeremy!” I waved back like a helpless fool. First day of college and I already have a date! Her words about class took a second to filter through, and I barely made it to Psychology with three minutes to spare.
Chatting with a few acquaintances, I saw the professor enter in my peripheral vision. Given what I’d heard, I didn’t pay him much attention as everyone got their spirals or laptops out to start taking notes. Not until the words “Welcome to Introduction to Psychology” flowed across the room like satin on satin did I notice the tsunami of red hair, the purple tank top, and the tight jeans staring at me from the other side of the podium.
“Welcome to the loser’s circle, the divine nothingness, the black hole of higher education,” said Bobby. I tossed my stuff on the floor.
“Ya’ll talking about us, or O-Trip in general?”
“Hey man, if the brochures are to be believed, we’re one and the same.” Tweaker successfully achieved an even deeper slouch into the recesses of his chair.
“Since when do you pay attention to paperwork? You barely got your application and enrollment done yesterday.” I fished a Reese’s from the depths of my bag. Bobby readjusted his meditation position.
“It is not the moment of an action which gives it meaning, but the will with which it is accomplished. In the end, all we have is the ability to act, and the will to act deliberately.”
“Bleh. Bobby found Buddha this summer. Too bad the fat guy’s just another creation of the wealthy to keep the poor underfoot while they march toward a one-world government.” Tweaker produced a cigarette inhaler from his denim vest, inhaling harder than the recommended usage. He noticed my attention. “This piece of shit is the only thing I can have in my mouth around here. Doesn’t fucking matter that I’ve never smoked a cig in my life.”
“Yeah, but life would be too easy if they made an inhaler shaped like a joint.” I started on my second Reese’s cup. I found myself tempted to ask what Tweaker did with all his free time over the last three months of transition from high school to college, but it seemed redundant given the inhaler protruding from his lips. Bobby bounced out of his reverie and chair.
“So what’s your first class?” he asked from the floor.
“Psych. I’ve heard the prof’s a total bore. Some old guy more obsessed with proving Freud wrong than actually getting his students to learn anything.”
“Total drag, man.” Tweaker hopped out of his chair. “Anybody else bored as all hell?”
“Yeah. Still have an hour before class. Wanna head to the courtyard for a smoke?” I grabbed a pack of menthols from my bag. Bobby hopped up and scooped up his in a single motion.
“I desire to inhale the ecstasy of the universe, but dammit I’ve been craving one of those all day!”
A slight breeze welcomed us onto the dry turf of the courtyard, tiny green weeds pushing up to look grassier than the grass. Bobby and I lit up as Tweaker continued to breathe straight through his inhaler.
“Ya’ll have another one to spare?” A voice behind me made me turn to see a dream come true. A tidal wave of auburn hair cascaded over bare shoulders and a purple tank top which barely contained her anatomy, to say nothing of concealing anything, down to tight jeans and matching purple flip-flops.
“Er…um…yeah, sure.” It took me way too many tries to get another cig from the pack, my hands shaking as she leaned in to take it from my fingers with her teeth after I forgot to move to hand it to her.
“So, you new here?” Her voice flowed like satin on satin. My nose caught her fiery sweet scent on the breeze, blocking out the smoky smell of our cigarettes.
“Uh, yeah. First day.” Yeah, that was eloquent. Keep that up and you’ll be in her pants, comparing tampon brands. She laughed.
“Oh good, mine too. My first class starts in about forty-five minutes.”
“Really? Mine too.” Great, we have as much common ground as two people in the drive-thru at Wendy’s. Bobby, who had materialized on the other side of the courtyard, called over.
“Hey Jeremy, we’re gonna bail. Have to get Tweaker’s books before he forgets again.”
“Okay, see ya’ll later.” I waved to them. Tweaker waved back with a Cheshire grin.
“Good luck, bro! Good hunting!” I knocked the ashes off my cig and took another pull. God, why couldn’t he have just left? I’m about to crap myself as it is. The sound of exhaled cigarette smoke brought me back to the moment.
“So, Jeremy, why are you here? Seems like everybody has a reason for coming to O-Trip.” Her satin-on-satin voice nearly overwhelmed me again.
“I sucked in high school. I want to go to OU and major in psychology, but I can’t until my GPA’s higher.” I kept the cig in my lips, undecided if I should keep my hands in my pockets or rub them together, all in an attempt to stop the shaking.
“Really? I want to switch to OU too. They have great opportunities over there, but for now I’m stuck here.” She took a final pull at her cig, then extinguished it in the dirt. “I’m Rebecca, by the way. What attracts you to psych?” I followed suit.
“I like understanding what makes people tick. Plus I’m interested in the mechanics of attraction.” I couldn’t help but keep eye contact as I spoke. Ah hell, did I just get direct and blunt? All the experts I’ve read said direct equals directly rejected! My anxiety kept me so busy I didn’t hear her response until the second time. “What?”
“I said, I’d like to explore those mechanics with you sometime.” The satin-on-satin danced around in my brain. Rebecca moved so close I could feel her breath on my cheek. The menthol-flavored cig smell made my nose tingle, melding with her natural scent to slam into the pleasure center of my brain like a wrecking ball. “How about dinner tonight?”
Really? Are you serious? I wanted to shout. Reason took over. Play it cool, play it cool. “Sounds great! Uh, let me give you my number.” Two simultaneous phone deployments later, I felt more excited than I had in years, almost too excited to notice Rebecca moving in close again. Her scent overwhelmed me, but this time she didn’t stop moving until our lips had met and parted. She glanced at her watch.
“Oops, my class starts in ten minutes.” She moved toward the doors back inside. “See you tonight, Jeremy!” I waved back like a helpless fool. First day of college and I already have a date! Her words about class took a second to filter through, and I barely made it to Psychology with three minutes to spare.
Chatting with a few acquaintances, I saw the professor enter in my peripheral vision. Given what I’d heard, I didn’t pay him much attention as everyone got their spirals or laptops out to start taking notes. Not until the words “Welcome to Introduction to Psychology” flowed across the room like satin on satin did I notice the tsunami of red hair, the purple tank top, and the tight jeans staring at me from the other side of the podium.
Monday, September 12, 2011
All Sins are Created Equal
Recently got into a discussion of whether or not some sins are worse than others.
In my opinion, the only difference between sins are their eternal vs. temporal consequences.
A man who lusts after a woman who is not his wife might experience ZERO consequences during his lifetime.
Many are able to separate fantasy from reality, and never experience negative consequences in their lives or marriages.
A man who commits murder is far more likely to experience negative consequences in the here and now, whether legal or psychological.
However, both of the above have the exact same eternal consequence: making the offenders unworthy of God's presence.
Similarly, both are equally capable of being covered (and thus blotted out) by God's grace.
It seems legalistic to me to say that some are worse than others when speaking in a spiritual context.
I have no problem with the argument when made in terms of temporal consequences, but using the eternal to make some sins seem worse than others sounds like a Dante's Inferno doctrine, with different sins (handpicked by church people, of course) leading to better or worse punishments in the hereafter.
In my opinion, the only difference between sins are their eternal vs. temporal consequences.
A man who lusts after a woman who is not his wife might experience ZERO consequences during his lifetime.
Many are able to separate fantasy from reality, and never experience negative consequences in their lives or marriages.
A man who commits murder is far more likely to experience negative consequences in the here and now, whether legal or psychological.
However, both of the above have the exact same eternal consequence: making the offenders unworthy of God's presence.
Similarly, both are equally capable of being covered (and thus blotted out) by God's grace.
It seems legalistic to me to say that some are worse than others when speaking in a spiritual context.
I have no problem with the argument when made in terms of temporal consequences, but using the eternal to make some sins seem worse than others sounds like a Dante's Inferno doctrine, with different sins (handpicked by church people, of course) leading to better or worse punishments in the hereafter.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
The Meeting
Lisa sipped her wine. Three months of chatting with “NoteTaker145,” aka “Bobby,” about Star Wars and martial arts and how new music sucks and old TV rocks had led to this moment. She glanced at her left-wristwatch, shifting in the plush leather chair. Guillermo, six feet of adolescent epic masculinity, refilled her wine glass and asked if she was ready to order for the fifteenth time. Lisa waved him off again. Raise that boy’s tip another ten percent. A guitar started up somewhere off in the hazy darkness. Great, Lisa thought, mood music for sitting alone. She nibbled at the lasagna fritta she had hoped to share with her date. A blonde waterfall cascading over a backless dress caught the light from the table lamp. Gina whirled on the arm of her latest man-toy.
“Lisa! Whoever expected to see you here?” She waved using only as much of her hand as she could while still seeming cordial. The guitar strumming grew a little louder.
“Hi, Gina. Just waiting for my date.” Lisa crossed and uncrossed her legs several times over the course of her greeting. The man-toy adjusted his cheap toupee.
“Is he late? Ya know a man’s trying to blow you off when he shows up la-“
“Honey, you’re not here to talk to Lisa.” Gina interrupted, grabbing the bundle of overinflated man-meat and steering him away. “See you later, darling!” She shoved him along back toward their table out in the gloom. Lisa returned to her glass, swirling it around hoping to conjure the frozen image she’d seen so many times during their conversations, his shock of black hair standing on end over eyes the color of the last moments of sunset. His features glimmered into her vision. The lilted tones of virtuoso guitar seemed louder than before.
“Hi! You’re here! I’d been wondering when you’d show up!” she gushed.
“Um, ma’am? I thought you might want to order this time around,” said Guillermo, reaching for his pad and pen. Lisa’s face fell to its usual halfway-cynical expression.
“Ugh. Fine, sure.” As he wandered off with pad holding order and brain holding “MORE WINE!” Lisa kept waiting for the familiar warmth on her forehead, but it seemed her lightweight alcohol tolerance had decided to grow a pair at the worst possible time: when she wanted a buzz. She glared at her glass. Not until the third bar of Freebird did she notice the guitar in the darkness to her left. A shock of black hair parted the shadows with its own midnight quality as the table lamp rebounded off glowing orbs the color of sunset.
“Now what would a lady of such refined taste be doing sitting alone on such a wonderful night?” strummed across the table following the dulcet tones. Lisa didn’t even look up from her glass.
“Waiting for the latest in true love innovation. The product was supposed to be delivered at 7. It’s now...” She glanced at her bare right wrist. “…too damn late to wait anymore. If he doesn’t show in five seconds, I’ll just have to hope to God I still have liquor at home.” Her head began to droop toward the table.
“Well I hope it gets here soon. I’d hate to see what happens when a judo black belt loses control.” Lisa popped up.
“Judo-wha?” He grinned at her. “…Bobby?” She jumped a few inches out of her seat. By the time she achieved re-entry, she had gained a glowing expression. “Well, where have you been?! I’ve been waiting for two hours!”
“Well if you knew how to read a watch, you wouldn’t have been waiting for so long!” he thundered back, his grin widening as he took her hand.
“Me?! You’re the one who dropped out of high school to start a heavy metal band! Now look where you are.” She pulled him closer.
“You know what? I don’t think this is going to work. We’re too different.” He slid closer, letting the guitar slip off his shoulder to clatter to the floor. Their noses touched.
“Yeah, we just can’t be together.” Their lips met, the first of many meetings for months and years and decades to come.
“Lisa! Whoever expected to see you here?” She waved using only as much of her hand as she could while still seeming cordial. The guitar strumming grew a little louder.
“Hi, Gina. Just waiting for my date.” Lisa crossed and uncrossed her legs several times over the course of her greeting. The man-toy adjusted his cheap toupee.
“Is he late? Ya know a man’s trying to blow you off when he shows up la-“
“Honey, you’re not here to talk to Lisa.” Gina interrupted, grabbing the bundle of overinflated man-meat and steering him away. “See you later, darling!” She shoved him along back toward their table out in the gloom. Lisa returned to her glass, swirling it around hoping to conjure the frozen image she’d seen so many times during their conversations, his shock of black hair standing on end over eyes the color of the last moments of sunset. His features glimmered into her vision. The lilted tones of virtuoso guitar seemed louder than before.
“Hi! You’re here! I’d been wondering when you’d show up!” she gushed.
“Um, ma’am? I thought you might want to order this time around,” said Guillermo, reaching for his pad and pen. Lisa’s face fell to its usual halfway-cynical expression.
“Ugh. Fine, sure.” As he wandered off with pad holding order and brain holding “MORE WINE!” Lisa kept waiting for the familiar warmth on her forehead, but it seemed her lightweight alcohol tolerance had decided to grow a pair at the worst possible time: when she wanted a buzz. She glared at her glass. Not until the third bar of Freebird did she notice the guitar in the darkness to her left. A shock of black hair parted the shadows with its own midnight quality as the table lamp rebounded off glowing orbs the color of sunset.
“Now what would a lady of such refined taste be doing sitting alone on such a wonderful night?” strummed across the table following the dulcet tones. Lisa didn’t even look up from her glass.
“Waiting for the latest in true love innovation. The product was supposed to be delivered at 7. It’s now...” She glanced at her bare right wrist. “…too damn late to wait anymore. If he doesn’t show in five seconds, I’ll just have to hope to God I still have liquor at home.” Her head began to droop toward the table.
“Well I hope it gets here soon. I’d hate to see what happens when a judo black belt loses control.” Lisa popped up.
“Judo-wha?” He grinned at her. “…Bobby?” She jumped a few inches out of her seat. By the time she achieved re-entry, she had gained a glowing expression. “Well, where have you been?! I’ve been waiting for two hours!”
“Well if you knew how to read a watch, you wouldn’t have been waiting for so long!” he thundered back, his grin widening as he took her hand.
“Me?! You’re the one who dropped out of high school to start a heavy metal band! Now look where you are.” She pulled him closer.
“You know what? I don’t think this is going to work. We’re too different.” He slid closer, letting the guitar slip off his shoulder to clatter to the floor. Their noses touched.
“Yeah, we just can’t be together.” Their lips met, the first of many meetings for months and years and decades to come.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
The Librarian
The book cart squealed as I labored to push it into position at the end of the shelf. A no-headphones-for-employees policy didn’t prevent Queen’s Greatest Hits from circulating in the cacophonous silence between my ears. Nothing like Freddie Mercury, Brian May, Roger Taylor, and John Deacon to help see the world as it really is.
Elizabeth Adler shoved Louisa May Alcott out of the way as my brain told me “I’m having such a good time. I’m having a ball.” Yeah, bullshit. Nothing would have pleased me more than to be “a shooting star, leaping through the sky like a tiger,” but shooting stars don’t have to worry about coming home to the scent of another man on their wives. I know I really fucked up our anniversary, but at least I ADMIT it. The least she could do is quit inviting her guy “friends” over while I’m working and going to school and Isabel Allende pushed Sarah Addison Allen to the left. Bet V.C. Andrews feels “under pressure,” but at least it’s the pressure of an entire shelf all to herself, not the weight of an inherited wedding ring that still might MEAN something.
David Baldacci shoved Sharon out of the way around an old lady too oblivious to realize I stood there halfway out of her personal bubble. Elizabeth Becka bashed her way between Glenn Beck and Simon Beckett, all sharing the “one vision” of a communal shelf, none apparently paying rent while paying for school while paying for utilities while paying for food. A girl maybe ten years old plopped down in front of me as I leaned in to push Terri Blackstock up against Lawana Blackwell. Oh, to be young again. Seems only those older and younger get any peace these days, while my generation plows through trying to take make its place in the world as Dan Brown plowed in between Dale and Sandra. The young get taken care of, the old get taken care of, and the “young adults” had damn well better learn to take care of themselves because the young and old need taking care of! “It’s a miracle” we don’t all shoot ourselves and let the young and old go fuck themselves. Christopher and William Buckley Jr. fought for space until one of them “bit the dust,” landing a few inches shy of my foot.
I coughed as Meg Cabot bumped Adrienne Byrd around, straining against the bookend. Damned thing’s back again. My granddad won’t give me a moment’s peace about all the heart problems and diabetes and general shitty physical condition of the family tree. If “only the good die young,” my family must be a bunch of assholes. Dakota Cassidy and P.C. Cast jostled each other on the bottom shelf. Mom’s been through cancer twice, but she doesn’t go on and on about it. Two Lori Copelands moved into the empty space next to Keith Coplin. Working all day every day on less and less food had helped me lose weight, but it made my bones act funny. Early osteoporosis? Probably. Or arthritis. Or maybe it’s hypertension and my heart will just shit itself to death at this damned job. Three Clive Cusslers took up residence by force, pushing Judith Cutler down to the next shelf.
Nelson DeMille and Jude Deveraux vied for the last spot on the top shelf. These are supposed to be the days when “the sun was always shining, and we just lived for fun,” but how the hell am I supposed to live at all when pressed to the grindstone day after day? Charles Dickens and Eric Jerome Dickey pushed back and forth at each other’s spaces as they filled in, but that seems a much better prospect for the future than wasted student loans rearing up after that all-important bachelor’s degree. College had been fun these last three years. Doing it on purpose helped, as opposed to my first three years when I just ran on autopilot and others’ expectations. Hadn’t had to work so damned much until now, though, pushing a line of Tim Dorseys over to squeeze Doug Dorst against the side of the shelf.
As the last Sarah Dunant slipped into place, my watch trilled into my attention. Five minutes to escape velocity. Fifty to class time. I pushed the creaking cart back through the aisles of literature toward its final temporary resting place, yearning to confine myself within an LCD monitor and a pair of earbuds. To dream of breaking free of the mundane, to soar on imagination and leave harsh reality behind. Or just turn some pixel-men into oozing masses of pixel-blood. Ya know, whatever works.
The final getthefuckoutwe’reclosed PA message echoed off desks and bookcases and ceiling tile. I shambled out the front door into the night, my slowly-tearing backpack bouncing on one shoulder as my textbooks complained at the presence of gravity. What do I want? To never waste another second steeped in this shit. To do something better with my life than sink into a dull routine and occupy space ‘till my heart explodes.
And somewhere in there to ditch the bullshit and find someplace in my own head to get lost for awhile. Good thing it’s time for class.
*Any resemblance in the preceding writing to any actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental*
Elizabeth Adler shoved Louisa May Alcott out of the way as my brain told me “I’m having such a good time. I’m having a ball.” Yeah, bullshit. Nothing would have pleased me more than to be “a shooting star, leaping through the sky like a tiger,” but shooting stars don’t have to worry about coming home to the scent of another man on their wives. I know I really fucked up our anniversary, but at least I ADMIT it. The least she could do is quit inviting her guy “friends” over while I’m working and going to school and Isabel Allende pushed Sarah Addison Allen to the left. Bet V.C. Andrews feels “under pressure,” but at least it’s the pressure of an entire shelf all to herself, not the weight of an inherited wedding ring that still might MEAN something.
David Baldacci shoved Sharon out of the way around an old lady too oblivious to realize I stood there halfway out of her personal bubble. Elizabeth Becka bashed her way between Glenn Beck and Simon Beckett, all sharing the “one vision” of a communal shelf, none apparently paying rent while paying for school while paying for utilities while paying for food. A girl maybe ten years old plopped down in front of me as I leaned in to push Terri Blackstock up against Lawana Blackwell. Oh, to be young again. Seems only those older and younger get any peace these days, while my generation plows through trying to take make its place in the world as Dan Brown plowed in between Dale and Sandra. The young get taken care of, the old get taken care of, and the “young adults” had damn well better learn to take care of themselves because the young and old need taking care of! “It’s a miracle” we don’t all shoot ourselves and let the young and old go fuck themselves. Christopher and William Buckley Jr. fought for space until one of them “bit the dust,” landing a few inches shy of my foot.
I coughed as Meg Cabot bumped Adrienne Byrd around, straining against the bookend. Damned thing’s back again. My granddad won’t give me a moment’s peace about all the heart problems and diabetes and general shitty physical condition of the family tree. If “only the good die young,” my family must be a bunch of assholes. Dakota Cassidy and P.C. Cast jostled each other on the bottom shelf. Mom’s been through cancer twice, but she doesn’t go on and on about it. Two Lori Copelands moved into the empty space next to Keith Coplin. Working all day every day on less and less food had helped me lose weight, but it made my bones act funny. Early osteoporosis? Probably. Or arthritis. Or maybe it’s hypertension and my heart will just shit itself to death at this damned job. Three Clive Cusslers took up residence by force, pushing Judith Cutler down to the next shelf.
Nelson DeMille and Jude Deveraux vied for the last spot on the top shelf. These are supposed to be the days when “the sun was always shining, and we just lived for fun,” but how the hell am I supposed to live at all when pressed to the grindstone day after day? Charles Dickens and Eric Jerome Dickey pushed back and forth at each other’s spaces as they filled in, but that seems a much better prospect for the future than wasted student loans rearing up after that all-important bachelor’s degree. College had been fun these last three years. Doing it on purpose helped, as opposed to my first three years when I just ran on autopilot and others’ expectations. Hadn’t had to work so damned much until now, though, pushing a line of Tim Dorseys over to squeeze Doug Dorst against the side of the shelf.
As the last Sarah Dunant slipped into place, my watch trilled into my attention. Five minutes to escape velocity. Fifty to class time. I pushed the creaking cart back through the aisles of literature toward its final temporary resting place, yearning to confine myself within an LCD monitor and a pair of earbuds. To dream of breaking free of the mundane, to soar on imagination and leave harsh reality behind. Or just turn some pixel-men into oozing masses of pixel-blood. Ya know, whatever works.
The final getthefuckoutwe’reclosed PA message echoed off desks and bookcases and ceiling tile. I shambled out the front door into the night, my slowly-tearing backpack bouncing on one shoulder as my textbooks complained at the presence of gravity. What do I want? To never waste another second steeped in this shit. To do something better with my life than sink into a dull routine and occupy space ‘till my heart explodes.
And somewhere in there to ditch the bullshit and find someplace in my own head to get lost for awhile. Good thing it’s time for class.
*Any resemblance in the preceding writing to any actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental*
Thursday, August 25, 2011
No me gusta mi clase...random rant
Okay seriously, there should be an application process, peer review, and student review before a person is allowed to teach a creative writing class.
This...lady...teaching my class is so deep in the "high literature" camp she probably can't see past her own syllabus to anything any of her students have written.
Some random notes taken during tonight's first class meeting:
-Overly sensitive to grittier content
-MAJOR ego issues!
-English teacher trying to teach creative writing
-No revisions? Are you kidding? What's the point of workshopping then?
-Required to write material FOR THIS CLASS, and no revisions allowed. EPIC BS!
-Are you trying to kill the rainforest with all this required printing? USE THE INTERNET!
Okay, so MAYBE I've been spoiled with my previous creative writing electives, but GOOD GOD this woman seems out to destroy the self-esteem and interest in writing in every single one of us!
"We don't write GENRES in this class!"
...someone needs to be reminded that REALISTIC FICTION is a genre.
I should know, I work at a library.
And if you're going to have the class do a writing exercise, don't do one yourself!
It puts out the vibe that you have to show us all up to maintain your own self-esteem.
The other vibe generated is that nothing less than the EXACT way she writes will earn an acceptable grade, even though its common knowledge among anyone who's ever taken a Literature class that short stories can be character-, setting-, OR plot-based.
Not simply the first, now and forever amen.
Trying to do ALL of the writing and ALL of the reading for this class AND my other elective WHILE working 30 hours a week es gonna be una beech.
Makes me even more bitter about Video Game Writing being cancelled, since if it hadn't I wouldn't even BE in this currently-hated class.
This...lady...teaching my class is so deep in the "high literature" camp she probably can't see past her own syllabus to anything any of her students have written.
Some random notes taken during tonight's first class meeting:
-Overly sensitive to grittier content
-MAJOR ego issues!
-English teacher trying to teach creative writing
-No revisions? Are you kidding? What's the point of workshopping then?
-Required to write material FOR THIS CLASS, and no revisions allowed. EPIC BS!
-Are you trying to kill the rainforest with all this required printing? USE THE INTERNET!
Okay, so MAYBE I've been spoiled with my previous creative writing electives, but GOOD GOD this woman seems out to destroy the self-esteem and interest in writing in every single one of us!
"We don't write GENRES in this class!"
...someone needs to be reminded that REALISTIC FICTION is a genre.
I should know, I work at a library.
And if you're going to have the class do a writing exercise, don't do one yourself!
It puts out the vibe that you have to show us all up to maintain your own self-esteem.
The other vibe generated is that nothing less than the EXACT way she writes will earn an acceptable grade, even though its common knowledge among anyone who's ever taken a Literature class that short stories can be character-, setting-, OR plot-based.
Not simply the first, now and forever amen.
Trying to do ALL of the writing and ALL of the reading for this class AND my other elective WHILE working 30 hours a week es gonna be una beech.
Makes me even more bitter about Video Game Writing being cancelled, since if it hadn't I wouldn't even BE in this currently-hated class.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Pop-Culture Fantasy
No, not marrying Kim Kardashian on the set of Friends.
I've been reading the first book of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel series, and I can't help but be distracted at the hoard of references to popular culture which keep popping up.
BlueTooth, iPod, Shrek, Batman Begins....all within a few paragraphs.
Now I'm not specifically criticizing the Flamel books.
In a way it'd be nice if this setup was limited to a single series.
But one of my favorite fantasy series, P.C. and Kristin Cast's House of Night, keeps throwing in pop culture as well.
It's not as prevalent, given that much of the action takes place in a somewhat archaic setting.
Of course the rarity means when Jack starts singing along to the Glee version (may they suffer a thousand hells) of "Defying Gravity" on his iPod, it like those in the Flamel books does nothing but DISTRACT from what's actually going on.
I didn't get nearly emotional enough over Jack's death two paragraphs later because I was still thinking "There's a GLEE version of Defying Gravity? What the hell?"
Pop culture distracted me, the reader, from what is supposed to be a tragic scene that leaves the reader pissed-off-as-all-hell at the series' antagonist.
Plus all this up-to-the-minute stuff means that within ten years all of it will be DATED.
Rowling was able to slip a reference in Harry Potter (to PlayStation) without it distracting because 9/10 of the series happens in a technology-less environment.
Thus the HP books have a much greater chance of achieving "timelessness" than fantasy books which use pop culture left and right.
On a side note, how long does it take for a book or series to achieve timelessness?
Does it have to survive long enough to be public domain before it's considered a "classic"?
I've been reading the first book of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel series, and I can't help but be distracted at the hoard of references to popular culture which keep popping up.
BlueTooth, iPod, Shrek, Batman Begins....all within a few paragraphs.
Now I'm not specifically criticizing the Flamel books.
In a way it'd be nice if this setup was limited to a single series.
But one of my favorite fantasy series, P.C. and Kristin Cast's House of Night, keeps throwing in pop culture as well.
It's not as prevalent, given that much of the action takes place in a somewhat archaic setting.
Of course the rarity means when Jack starts singing along to the Glee version (may they suffer a thousand hells) of "Defying Gravity" on his iPod, it like those in the Flamel books does nothing but DISTRACT from what's actually going on.
I didn't get nearly emotional enough over Jack's death two paragraphs later because I was still thinking "There's a GLEE version of Defying Gravity? What the hell?"
Pop culture distracted me, the reader, from what is supposed to be a tragic scene that leaves the reader pissed-off-as-all-hell at the series' antagonist.
Plus all this up-to-the-minute stuff means that within ten years all of it will be DATED.
Rowling was able to slip a reference in Harry Potter (to PlayStation) without it distracting because 9/10 of the series happens in a technology-less environment.
Thus the HP books have a much greater chance of achieving "timelessness" than fantasy books which use pop culture left and right.
On a side note, how long does it take for a book or series to achieve timelessness?
Does it have to survive long enough to be public domain before it's considered a "classic"?
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Just Say No to Leetspeak
Hello, ladies. Look at your comment, now back to mine, now back at your comment, now back to mine. Sadly, it isn’t mine, but if you stopped using leetspeak and switched to proper grammar, it could look like mine. Look down, back up. Where are you now? You’re on Facebook, with the comment your comment could look like. What’s in your hand? Back up. It’s a keyboard with letters composing the English language you love. Look up again. The comment is now EPIC. Anything’s possible when your comment uses proper grammar and not leetspeak. I’m on a chair.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Young Earth vs. Old Earth
This is one of those big Christian arguments which, at face value, has little to no effect on the world in which we live.
If "Young-Earth Creationism" is correct, we're still here living right now.
If "Old-Earth Creationism"/evolution/what have you is correct, we're still living here right now.
Of course, the argument isn't really about the face value of YEC vs. OEC.
The argument, and thus its far-reaching effects, involves a gradual shift in priorities for the Christian community.
Young-Earth represents the old way (ironically).
-"God said, I believe it, and that settles it," "old-time religion," etc. thinking.
-faith instead of reason.
-Science is the enemy of faith (and thus God), even though YEC Christians continue to take advantage of SCIENTIFIC breakthroughs, especially in technology.
-The Bible > anything and everything else, and nothing you say will convince me otherwise.
Old-Earth represents the new way.
-"Prove it!" "How can you say that in light of this and this and this contradiction?" etc.
-Acknowledging that there are mysteries in the universe which we will never understand, but in the meantime it behooves us as rational, thinking beings to strive to understand all we can.
-Faith working with the rational minds God gave us in order to find a synthesis of the two.
-Science is a necessary ally of faith, especially when studying Galileo, Newton, Copernicus, etc. who were all Christians believing that by achieving greater understanding of God's universe, they could gain greater appreciation for His creative nature and find new more wondrous reasons to worship Him.
At least for me personally, once I reached this understanding I could never go back to the old way.
Notice there aren't many converts from one to the other, barring divine intervention?
This is one of the VERY few Christian arguments with VERY distinct battle lines.
A Christian attempting to study the origins of the universe will quickly find the two sides clashing throughout spiritual and scientific academia, though the Young-Earth side rarely ventures into scientific territory (for obvious reasons).
A larger, more detrimental effect of this argument is to anyone outside looking in.
God forbid an atheist/etc. seeking the truth be turned away because all he/she sees of "Christians" is a bunch of yappy dogs nipping at each other.
I believe as technology gives us increasing ability to accurately look back in time, the Young-Earth mentality will disappear, or at least be limited to tiny groups of senile senior citizens still shaking their heads and folding their arms saying "Nuh-uh!"
If "Young-Earth Creationism" is correct, we're still here living right now.
If "Old-Earth Creationism"/evolution/what have you is correct, we're still living here right now.
Of course, the argument isn't really about the face value of YEC vs. OEC.
The argument, and thus its far-reaching effects, involves a gradual shift in priorities for the Christian community.
Young-Earth represents the old way (ironically).
-"God said, I believe it, and that settles it," "old-time religion," etc. thinking.
-faith instead of reason.
-Science is the enemy of faith (and thus God), even though YEC Christians continue to take advantage of SCIENTIFIC breakthroughs, especially in technology.
-The Bible > anything and everything else, and nothing you say will convince me otherwise.
Old-Earth represents the new way.
-"Prove it!" "How can you say that in light of this and this and this contradiction?" etc.
-Acknowledging that there are mysteries in the universe which we will never understand, but in the meantime it behooves us as rational, thinking beings to strive to understand all we can.
-Faith working with the rational minds God gave us in order to find a synthesis of the two.
-Science is a necessary ally of faith, especially when studying Galileo, Newton, Copernicus, etc. who were all Christians believing that by achieving greater understanding of God's universe, they could gain greater appreciation for His creative nature and find new more wondrous reasons to worship Him.
At least for me personally, once I reached this understanding I could never go back to the old way.
Notice there aren't many converts from one to the other, barring divine intervention?
This is one of the VERY few Christian arguments with VERY distinct battle lines.
A Christian attempting to study the origins of the universe will quickly find the two sides clashing throughout spiritual and scientific academia, though the Young-Earth side rarely ventures into scientific territory (for obvious reasons).
A larger, more detrimental effect of this argument is to anyone outside looking in.
God forbid an atheist/etc. seeking the truth be turned away because all he/she sees of "Christians" is a bunch of yappy dogs nipping at each other.
I believe as technology gives us increasing ability to accurately look back in time, the Young-Earth mentality will disappear, or at least be limited to tiny groups of senile senior citizens still shaking their heads and folding their arms saying "Nuh-uh!"
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Notes to Overprotective Parents
-HARDSHIP BUILDS CHARACTER.
-GREAT ART CAN ONLY COME FROM GREAT PAIN.
-EVERY CHILD GETS MADE FUN OF.
A whole generation of children is being insulated to the point that when the shit inevitably hits the fan, they will be PARALYZED. They will consider the toilet backing up a major catastrophe of biblical proportions.
Now imagine them as adults.
Then imagine the effect they will have on THEIR kids.
Then be afraid, and maybe let little Jimmy play with some dangerous toys.
And stop calling your lawyer every time he comes home from school crying because he was called a butthead on the playground!
Bullying has caused suicides for DECADES.
My more draconian side considers this a mechanism of natural selection.
The kids with the personal motivation to succeed, even if success is only measured in a high school diploma, WILL succeed in spite of anyone else's criticism to the contrary.
Especially given that bullying is merely one of MANY factors leading to suicide.
God forbid we hold the PARENTS responsible for brushing their kids aside when they needed support.
-GREAT ART CAN ONLY COME FROM GREAT PAIN.
-EVERY CHILD GETS MADE FUN OF.
A whole generation of children is being insulated to the point that when the shit inevitably hits the fan, they will be PARALYZED. They will consider the toilet backing up a major catastrophe of biblical proportions.
Now imagine them as adults.
Then imagine the effect they will have on THEIR kids.
Then be afraid, and maybe let little Jimmy play with some dangerous toys.
And stop calling your lawyer every time he comes home from school crying because he was called a butthead on the playground!
Bullying has caused suicides for DECADES.
My more draconian side considers this a mechanism of natural selection.
The kids with the personal motivation to succeed, even if success is only measured in a high school diploma, WILL succeed in spite of anyone else's criticism to the contrary.
Especially given that bullying is merely one of MANY factors leading to suicide.
God forbid we hold the PARENTS responsible for brushing their kids aside when they needed support.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
The Walls we Build
"I love my Roman Catholic friends, and my faith is richer for listening to them share their experience of the Eucharistic mystery and the traditions of their church. I have deep respect for my Orthodox neighbors and feel a sense of mystery and awe when I worship amid the aroma of incense in their church. I love my Southern Baptist colleagues, whose love of the Scriptures and preaching of conversion have left their mark on me. And my Pentecostal friends have reminded me that the Holy Spirit continues to work in unexpected ways. While I’m drawn to the United Methodist Church’s attempt to hold together the evangelical and social gospels, and to stand in the center of the theological spectrum as a bridge between the left and the right, I don’t believe all Christians should be United Methodists. In fact, I think Christianity would be the poorer if they were."
-Adam Hamilton, Seeing Gray in a World of Black and White
My pastor preached on Christ's oneness prayer last Sunday, and one of the more depressing facts he pointed out is that "anyone trying to find middle ground nowadays just gets shot at from both sides."
Especially in America, where "compromise" equals "surrendering to the enemy," the enemy in this case being everyone who doesn't believe exactly as "we" do.
Us vs. them all over again.
I was raised to believe that agreeing to disagree agreeably (i.e. set aside issues which aren't critical when they put our relationships in danger) was a sign of high maturity.
But even in my most intimate circles, there are several who now say that any such arrangement is heretical, once again treating compromise as complete surrender.
I think this quote from John Wesley sums up the solution well, and interdenominational charity work, mission trips, etc. demonstrate the validity of his statement.
"Though we cannot think alike, may we not love alike? May we not be of one heart, though we are not of one opinion? Without all doubt, we may. Herein all the children of God may unite, notwithstanding these smaller differences."
-Adam Hamilton, Seeing Gray in a World of Black and White
My pastor preached on Christ's oneness prayer last Sunday, and one of the more depressing facts he pointed out is that "anyone trying to find middle ground nowadays just gets shot at from both sides."
Especially in America, where "compromise" equals "surrendering to the enemy," the enemy in this case being everyone who doesn't believe exactly as "we" do.
Us vs. them all over again.
I was raised to believe that agreeing to disagree agreeably (i.e. set aside issues which aren't critical when they put our relationships in danger) was a sign of high maturity.
But even in my most intimate circles, there are several who now say that any such arrangement is heretical, once again treating compromise as complete surrender.
I think this quote from John Wesley sums up the solution well, and interdenominational charity work, mission trips, etc. demonstrate the validity of his statement.
"Though we cannot think alike, may we not love alike? May we not be of one heart, though we are not of one opinion? Without all doubt, we may. Herein all the children of God may unite, notwithstanding these smaller differences."
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Generation Y and politics
Been reading lately about how there's a fairly strong chance a third-party candidate will win the next presidential election.
A lot of people will be cheering if we get our first third-party president.
I foresee a lot of shouts of "End the partisan corruption!" and such.
Sad thing is, no matter who gets elected or what party they're from, chances are very high that nothing will change for the better, and several things will most likely change for the worse.
When Obama first got elected, I wasn't jumping up and down in celebration, but at the very least I thought "Well, it's somebody new, so maybe we'll see a few things done differently."
...turns out the stuff I wanted to see done differently (i.e., finally end the illegal wars we've been constantly involved in for most of my lifetime a la Oceania vs. Eurasia) didn't change, and got worse (Libya).
Thus I, and looking at the statistics most of my generation, are probably more cynical about the federal government than any generation before.
We know it's screwing us over on taxes and college costs and entitlement programs while our parents (the Baby Boomers) are starting to settle into their billion-dollar retirement communities.
But we've been taught by our parents and by the presidents we've actually had the chance to vote for that voting is MEANINGLESS.
No matter who is elected, about half the country will spend his/her entire first term complaining about every little thing he/she does, and fervently hoping that he/she is ousted immediately after.
No one who wants the office is morally qualified to have it (except maybe Ron Paul).
Those who seek power are least worthy of it, and those who are most worthy of it don't seek it.
The whole "election" fiasco is one big advertising campaign to give us the illusion of making a choice.
Choosing between getting a bullet in the left eye and getting a bullet in the right eye is no choice at all.
Even assuming an honest person who honestly didn't give two craps about lobbyists or special interest groups, and genuinely wanted to make this country a better place, he/she would be shackled by "the party", i.e. the corporate bigwigs and their political slaves who only seek to tighten their control of this country in the name of "laissez-faire".
The question on that is, WHOSE HANDS ARE STAYING OFF?
The answer? Us. The you's and me's of this world.
We who WEREN'T born into wealth, actually have to WORK to have basic necessities, and who by our labors KEEP THIS COUNTRY GOING.
But in order to keep the financial fascism under cover, they have to wrap the ball of dog crap in pretty golden wrapping paper called "Democracy."
What separates financial fascistic rule by a wealthy elite and communistic rule by the working-class masses?
The middle class.
A unique American invention which provides the opportunity for social mobility.
The entire American Dream was that if you worked hard and long enough, got a college degree, and continually persevered, you could provide a better life for your family.
But the financial fascists have been working for decades to dissolve the middle class, to continually widen the gap between rich and poor, all the while keeping everyone occupied by playing us off against each other in "politics."
If we could set aside our differing opinions on abortion, homosexuality, gun control, and a thousand other ultimately-insignificant issues, we could come together as a nation and demand the ousting of every last corporate puppet from our government, revamp the laws regarding "campaign contributions" (AKA bribes), and ensure that only those individuals willing to act in our best interests, especially regarding compromise, are put in power above us.
A lot of people will be cheering if we get our first third-party president.
I foresee a lot of shouts of "End the partisan corruption!" and such.
Sad thing is, no matter who gets elected or what party they're from, chances are very high that nothing will change for the better, and several things will most likely change for the worse.
When Obama first got elected, I wasn't jumping up and down in celebration, but at the very least I thought "Well, it's somebody new, so maybe we'll see a few things done differently."
...turns out the stuff I wanted to see done differently (i.e., finally end the illegal wars we've been constantly involved in for most of my lifetime a la Oceania vs. Eurasia) didn't change, and got worse (Libya).
Thus I, and looking at the statistics most of my generation, are probably more cynical about the federal government than any generation before.
We know it's screwing us over on taxes and college costs and entitlement programs while our parents (the Baby Boomers) are starting to settle into their billion-dollar retirement communities.
But we've been taught by our parents and by the presidents we've actually had the chance to vote for that voting is MEANINGLESS.
No matter who is elected, about half the country will spend his/her entire first term complaining about every little thing he/she does, and fervently hoping that he/she is ousted immediately after.
No one who wants the office is morally qualified to have it (except maybe Ron Paul).
Those who seek power are least worthy of it, and those who are most worthy of it don't seek it.
The whole "election" fiasco is one big advertising campaign to give us the illusion of making a choice.
Choosing between getting a bullet in the left eye and getting a bullet in the right eye is no choice at all.
Even assuming an honest person who honestly didn't give two craps about lobbyists or special interest groups, and genuinely wanted to make this country a better place, he/she would be shackled by "the party", i.e. the corporate bigwigs and their political slaves who only seek to tighten their control of this country in the name of "laissez-faire".
The question on that is, WHOSE HANDS ARE STAYING OFF?
The answer? Us. The you's and me's of this world.
We who WEREN'T born into wealth, actually have to WORK to have basic necessities, and who by our labors KEEP THIS COUNTRY GOING.
But in order to keep the financial fascism under cover, they have to wrap the ball of dog crap in pretty golden wrapping paper called "Democracy."
What separates financial fascistic rule by a wealthy elite and communistic rule by the working-class masses?
The middle class.
A unique American invention which provides the opportunity for social mobility.
The entire American Dream was that if you worked hard and long enough, got a college degree, and continually persevered, you could provide a better life for your family.
But the financial fascists have been working for decades to dissolve the middle class, to continually widen the gap between rich and poor, all the while keeping everyone occupied by playing us off against each other in "politics."
If we could set aside our differing opinions on abortion, homosexuality, gun control, and a thousand other ultimately-insignificant issues, we could come together as a nation and demand the ousting of every last corporate puppet from our government, revamp the laws regarding "campaign contributions" (AKA bribes), and ensure that only those individuals willing to act in our best interests, especially regarding compromise, are put in power above us.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Idiocracy
This film is based off the scarily realistic premise that at some point, stupid people will outbreed smart people.
The result is depicted as a man who is mathematically deemed "the most average man in the world" in the present time accidentally traveling 500 years in the future, where the above concept results in his being the smartest man on the planet.
Recent decades have left me quite cynical regarding mankind's future development, and I've only been around for 26 years.
Especially in the United States.
We have yet to extricate ourselves from the Lay-Z-Boys of surplus and entitlement, even after a decade of economic recession.
We drive our gas-guzzling SUVs, we slam down high-calorie energy drinks and fat-dripping foods, we buy houses we can't afford in sizes we don't need, we pollute our environment, we expect our employers to take care of us for life...
And we treat all of the above as our inalienable right.
Then we complain that the government isn't doing enough, or is doing too much.
No increase in gas prices, no increase in the unemployment rate, no increase in cost of living, no drop in life expectancy can change the American mindset that YOU (the universe) OWE ME BECAUSE I'M AN AMERICAN, DAMMIT.
I fear for my nieces and nephews, who are every day from a million different directions being fed the lie that they are owed something by the world, no matter how hard their parents work to undo the damage.
One of many reasons my wife and I are hesitant to procreate.
Bang-for-the-buck, the bottom line, the best deal, etc. are the only motivators that matter in America nowadays.
That applies to choice of college, choice of degree, choice of car, choice of neighborhood, choice of church, choice of employer, choice of employee, choice of supermarket, choice of Internet provider, choice of spouse.......and anything and everything between.
The result is depicted as a man who is mathematically deemed "the most average man in the world" in the present time accidentally traveling 500 years in the future, where the above concept results in his being the smartest man on the planet.
Recent decades have left me quite cynical regarding mankind's future development, and I've only been around for 26 years.
Especially in the United States.
We have yet to extricate ourselves from the Lay-Z-Boys of surplus and entitlement, even after a decade of economic recession.
We drive our gas-guzzling SUVs, we slam down high-calorie energy drinks and fat-dripping foods, we buy houses we can't afford in sizes we don't need, we pollute our environment, we expect our employers to take care of us for life...
And we treat all of the above as our inalienable right.
Then we complain that the government isn't doing enough, or is doing too much.
No increase in gas prices, no increase in the unemployment rate, no increase in cost of living, no drop in life expectancy can change the American mindset that YOU (the universe) OWE ME BECAUSE I'M AN AMERICAN, DAMMIT.
I fear for my nieces and nephews, who are every day from a million different directions being fed the lie that they are owed something by the world, no matter how hard their parents work to undo the damage.
One of many reasons my wife and I are hesitant to procreate.
Bang-for-the-buck, the bottom line, the best deal, etc. are the only motivators that matter in America nowadays.
That applies to choice of college, choice of degree, choice of car, choice of neighborhood, choice of church, choice of employer, choice of employee, choice of supermarket, choice of Internet provider, choice of spouse.......and anything and everything between.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
"Immoral" Films
Any time morality is brought up regarding a movie, I just sit back and watch the circus commence, because ANYTHING in the entire cinematic production process could be used to justify calling a film "immoral."
The star is a drug addict.
The director cheated on his wife in 1978.
The film shows a woman not wearing a veil.
The soundtrack was composed by a Jew.
"God" is said too many/not enough times in the dialogue.
The editor doesn't clip his fingernails often enough.
The producer was bi-curious in college.
The wardrobe lady has a mustache.
The movie posters used PhotoShop.
The man selling tickets at the theater hit on my daughter.
Yeah. ANYTHING.
Individuals can interpret visuals, sounds, music, and dialogue in any number of ways.
A great example of this is The Passion of the Christ.
Most non-Christians I've spoken with (and several Christians) view it as nothing more than glorifying the horrific torture and death of a man, and the sadistic mindset of his tormentors.
Almost to the point of being torture-porn, given that they perceive the movie as having NO POINT other than to show a gruesome death.
But a lot of Christians watching the same movie treat it as "beautiful," in that it is a realistic representation of Christ's death (as opposed to the previous theatrical representations which dumbed it down and cleaned it up), and thus believe it teaches greater appreciation of His sacrifice.
(...to the point that they'll take their kids to see it. Blech.)
Neither interpretation is objectively "moral" or "immoral."
Film is art, art is interpreted by each individual, and no single interpretation is the "right" interpretation.
The star is a drug addict.
The director cheated on his wife in 1978.
The film shows a woman not wearing a veil.
The soundtrack was composed by a Jew.
"God" is said too many/not enough times in the dialogue.
The editor doesn't clip his fingernails often enough.
The producer was bi-curious in college.
The wardrobe lady has a mustache.
The movie posters used PhotoShop.
The man selling tickets at the theater hit on my daughter.
Yeah. ANYTHING.
Individuals can interpret visuals, sounds, music, and dialogue in any number of ways.
A great example of this is The Passion of the Christ.
Most non-Christians I've spoken with (and several Christians) view it as nothing more than glorifying the horrific torture and death of a man, and the sadistic mindset of his tormentors.
Almost to the point of being torture-porn, given that they perceive the movie as having NO POINT other than to show a gruesome death.
But a lot of Christians watching the same movie treat it as "beautiful," in that it is a realistic representation of Christ's death (as opposed to the previous theatrical representations which dumbed it down and cleaned it up), and thus believe it teaches greater appreciation of His sacrifice.
(...to the point that they'll take their kids to see it. Blech.)
Neither interpretation is objectively "moral" or "immoral."
Film is art, art is interpreted by each individual, and no single interpretation is the "right" interpretation.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Arrogant Americans
Just about every nation tries in some way to venerate its glorious past, whether that manifests as Shakespeare's historical plays, the Roman myths of Romulus and Remus (tying back to the Trojan War), Homer's Illiad (same thing), the Shinto myths tying the Japanese royal line back to the goddess Amaterasu, etc.
Americans also do this in our tall tales, even while recognizing that they are factually false.
We treat them as symbolic of attributes we value and thus attribute to ourselves.
The legendary status given the "Founding Fathers" demonstrates the universal good-ol'-days mentality, to the point that the group as a whole (and the actual membership varies depending on whom you ask) is treated as a think tank of divinely inspired hypergeniuses.
Where Americans differ from the rest of the world, which has mostly come to regard its glorious past as either a product of art or a product of arrogance, is in the fact that a large part of our population BELIEVES THE MYTH.
Since most Americans are conditioned from day one to believe the legend, it naturally follows that we hold ourselves in high regard as the heirs to its glorious legacy, that being the United States itself.
Treating free education, high-paying jobs, nice homes and possessions, and early and easy retirement as our right is simply the natural outgrowth of such a mentality.
As a result we are seen as arrogant/greedy and stupid by much of the rest of the world.
We essentially believe our own hype.
Americans also do this in our tall tales, even while recognizing that they are factually false.
We treat them as symbolic of attributes we value and thus attribute to ourselves.
The legendary status given the "Founding Fathers" demonstrates the universal good-ol'-days mentality, to the point that the group as a whole (and the actual membership varies depending on whom you ask) is treated as a think tank of divinely inspired hypergeniuses.
Where Americans differ from the rest of the world, which has mostly come to regard its glorious past as either a product of art or a product of arrogance, is in the fact that a large part of our population BELIEVES THE MYTH.
Since most Americans are conditioned from day one to believe the legend, it naturally follows that we hold ourselves in high regard as the heirs to its glorious legacy, that being the United States itself.
Treating free education, high-paying jobs, nice homes and possessions, and early and easy retirement as our right is simply the natural outgrowth of such a mentality.
As a result we are seen as arrogant/greedy and stupid by much of the rest of the world.
We essentially believe our own hype.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Some Wisdom for career seekers...
"There are stories -- legends, really -- of the 'steady job.' Old-timers gather graduates around the flickering light of a computer monitor and tell stories of how the company used to be, back when a job was for life, not just for the business cycle. In those days, there were dinners for employees who racked up twenty-five years -- don't laugh, you, yes, twenty-five years!-- of service. In those days, a man didn't change jobs every five minutes. When you walked down the corridors, you recognized everyone you met; hell, you knew the names of their kids.
The graduates snicker. A steady job! They've never heard of such a thing. What they know is the flexible job. It's what they were raised on in business school; it's what they experienced, too, as they drove a cash register or stacked shelves between classes. Flexibility is where it's at, not dull, rigid, monotonous steadiness. Flexible jobs allow employees to share in the company's ups and downs; well, no so much the ups. But when times get tough, it's the flexible company that thrives. By comparison, a company with steady jobs hobbles along with a ball and chain. The graduates have read the management textbooks and they know the true: long-term employees are so last century.
The problem with employees, you see, is everything. You have to pay to hire them and pay to fire them, and, in between, you have to pay them. They need business cards. They need computers. They need ID tags and security clearances and phones and air-conditioning and somewhere to sit. You have to ferry them to off-site team meetings. You have to ferry them home again. They get pregnant. They injure themselves. They steal. They join religions with firm views on when it's permissible to work. When they read their e-mail they open every attachment they get, and when they write it they expose the company to enormous legal liabilities. They arrive with no useful skills, and once you've trained them, they leave. And don't expect gratitude! If they're not taking sick days, they're requesting compassionate leave. If they're not gossiping with co-workers, they're complaining about them. They consider it their inalienable right to wear body ornamentation that scares customers. They talk about (dear God) unionizing. They want raises. They want management to notice when they do a good job. They want to know what's going to happen in the next corporate reorginization. And lawsuits! The lawsuits! They sue for sexual harassment, for an unsafe workplace, for discrimination in thirty-two different flavors. For --get this-- wrongful termination. Wrongful termination! These people are only here because you brought them into the corporate world! Suddenly you're responsible for them for life?
The truly flexible company -- and the textbooks don't come right out and say it, but the graduates can tell that they want to -- doesn't employ people at all. This is the siren song of outsourcing. The seductiveness of the sub-contract. Just try out the words: no employees. Feels good, doesn't it? Strong. Healthy. Supple. Oh yes, a company without employees would be a wondrous thing. Let the workers suck up a little competitive pressure. Let them get a taste of the free market.
The old-timers' stories are fairy tales, dreams of a world that no longer exists. They rest on the bizarre assumption that people somehow deserve a job. The graduates know better they've been taught they don't."
-from Company by Max Barry
The graduates snicker. A steady job! They've never heard of such a thing. What they know is the flexible job. It's what they were raised on in business school; it's what they experienced, too, as they drove a cash register or stacked shelves between classes. Flexibility is where it's at, not dull, rigid, monotonous steadiness. Flexible jobs allow employees to share in the company's ups and downs; well, no so much the ups. But when times get tough, it's the flexible company that thrives. By comparison, a company with steady jobs hobbles along with a ball and chain. The graduates have read the management textbooks and they know the true: long-term employees are so last century.
The problem with employees, you see, is everything. You have to pay to hire them and pay to fire them, and, in between, you have to pay them. They need business cards. They need computers. They need ID tags and security clearances and phones and air-conditioning and somewhere to sit. You have to ferry them to off-site team meetings. You have to ferry them home again. They get pregnant. They injure themselves. They steal. They join religions with firm views on when it's permissible to work. When they read their e-mail they open every attachment they get, and when they write it they expose the company to enormous legal liabilities. They arrive with no useful skills, and once you've trained them, they leave. And don't expect gratitude! If they're not taking sick days, they're requesting compassionate leave. If they're not gossiping with co-workers, they're complaining about them. They consider it their inalienable right to wear body ornamentation that scares customers. They talk about (dear God) unionizing. They want raises. They want management to notice when they do a good job. They want to know what's going to happen in the next corporate reorginization. And lawsuits! The lawsuits! They sue for sexual harassment, for an unsafe workplace, for discrimination in thirty-two different flavors. For --get this-- wrongful termination. Wrongful termination! These people are only here because you brought them into the corporate world! Suddenly you're responsible for them for life?
The truly flexible company -- and the textbooks don't come right out and say it, but the graduates can tell that they want to -- doesn't employ people at all. This is the siren song of outsourcing. The seductiveness of the sub-contract. Just try out the words: no employees. Feels good, doesn't it? Strong. Healthy. Supple. Oh yes, a company without employees would be a wondrous thing. Let the workers suck up a little competitive pressure. Let them get a taste of the free market.
The old-timers' stories are fairy tales, dreams of a world that no longer exists. They rest on the bizarre assumption that people somehow deserve a job. The graduates know better they've been taught they don't."
-from Company by Max Barry
Thursday, May 19, 2011
So apparently, I'm not "career-oriented."
Meaning, I'm not going to suck up to management, I'm not going to work double shifts without pay just to go above and beyond, and I'm not going to hinge my self-esteem on the length of time I've been at entry-level.
Ugh. Had my first interviews for a full-time job earlier this week, and the longer they went, the more my attention span wavered (which has NEVER happened mid-conversation before), and the more I asked myself "Do I even want this thing?"
The answer turned out to be NO.
Especially since the whole thing turned out to be one big lie, especially given the amount of offhand compliments they kept throwing at me.
Oh well, 'tis another lesson in my "what kind of job do I want?" education.
I've compiled a list of priorities in my career search:
-Creatively driven
-Uses natural abilities
-No 12-hour workdays
-No clock-watching, before or during
-No company politics (especially masquerading as "loyalty")
-Plenty of wiggle room
-No BS
-No pressure to advance, or demeaning of current position
...and I'm kinda torn.
On one hand, one of the things I've grown to despise about my current job is my lack of decision-making ability, especially regarding problem solving.
If there's a problem, I have to go through "channels" to get it fixed.
...which means it's not getting fixed EVER.
On the other, that kind of decision-making ability requires a crapload of responsibility, especially regarding my performance being judged based on the performance of others...and I hate that kind of setup.
I want to be able to make decisions and resolve issues, and yet be judged solely on MY actions and how well I do MY job.
I wonder if that even exists in reality.
Basically, the issue I'm faced with now is the belief that life isn't lived at work.
Thus, I shouldn't be looking for a job that will fulfill me, but rather something which provides a groove I can get into.
Just get up, go to work, stay in the groove, get off work, and THEN live life.
Scary thing is, that mindset seems to naturally lead to pining for the weekends and holidays and half-days and snow days, which seems like a sorry way to live.
Meaning, I'm not going to suck up to management, I'm not going to work double shifts without pay just to go above and beyond, and I'm not going to hinge my self-esteem on the length of time I've been at entry-level.
Ugh. Had my first interviews for a full-time job earlier this week, and the longer they went, the more my attention span wavered (which has NEVER happened mid-conversation before), and the more I asked myself "Do I even want this thing?"
The answer turned out to be NO.
Especially since the whole thing turned out to be one big lie, especially given the amount of offhand compliments they kept throwing at me.
Oh well, 'tis another lesson in my "what kind of job do I want?" education.
I've compiled a list of priorities in my career search:
-Creatively driven
-Uses natural abilities
-No 12-hour workdays
-No clock-watching, before or during
-No company politics (especially masquerading as "loyalty")
-Plenty of wiggle room
-No BS
-No pressure to advance, or demeaning of current position
...and I'm kinda torn.
On one hand, one of the things I've grown to despise about my current job is my lack of decision-making ability, especially regarding problem solving.
If there's a problem, I have to go through "channels" to get it fixed.
...which means it's not getting fixed EVER.
On the other, that kind of decision-making ability requires a crapload of responsibility, especially regarding my performance being judged based on the performance of others...and I hate that kind of setup.
I want to be able to make decisions and resolve issues, and yet be judged solely on MY actions and how well I do MY job.
I wonder if that even exists in reality.
Basically, the issue I'm faced with now is the belief that life isn't lived at work.
Thus, I shouldn't be looking for a job that will fulfill me, but rather something which provides a groove I can get into.
Just get up, go to work, stay in the groove, get off work, and THEN live life.
Scary thing is, that mindset seems to naturally lead to pining for the weekends and holidays and half-days and snow days, which seems like a sorry way to live.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Job Search
Been making my first effort ever at finding a full-time job.
It's depressing.
Not because there aren't jobs available, but because I just can't seem to get excited at the prospect of any of them.
I know I definitely need to get away from my current job.
Been there almost four years, and I'm about ready to start dropping f-bombs from the moment I start each workday.
I think that's a good sign it's time to LEAVE.
But leave to what?
I'm finally getting benefits, which will probably NEVER happen with any other part-time job.
Paid time off, paid holidays...it's nice.
But it's also been a pain, given how easily it can be taken away if you don't keep track.
I need to leave.
I've been an outsider from day 1 at this branch, no matter how much I learned I had in common with several of my coworkers.
Plus since the turnover rate is so high, it's not like at the previous branch where I spent 3 years getting to know everyone because NOBODY EVER LEFT.
..until I did, to be closer to home and school.
The management gets on my nerves, the "policies" are such lack-of-common-sense crap (especially FORCED "friendliness"), and an overall sense of BS permeates nearly all interactions between staff members.
But again, I'm not sure where I'm going.
It's not as if I'm saying, "Okay, time to ditch the crap job and get the one I've always dreamed of!"
Am I weird for never dreaming about having a particular job?
My dreams tended to be DOING THINGS, like winning a Pulitzer or even just seeing my name in the Table of Contents in an anthology.
Well, I've gotten the latter twice, thanks to college publications.
Still, it's not the best thing to keep in mind when roving through monster.com trying to find something that sounds good.
Even career coaching books have nothing for you if you ever answer one of their questions with "I don't know."
Prime example:
"Think of someone you've seen in person or on TV who looked like they were doing something you'd want to do."
1) Including TV in that is total BS, because who doesn't want to be on TV in some capacity?
2) I've NEVER seen someone doing a JOB that made me all giddy inside.
When I say "job", I don't mean "performing artist," "theatrical performer," or "choreography expert."
I.E., singer/instrumentalist, actor, or dancer.
I'm talking about day-to-day, 9-5, pays-the-bills type of job.
Never seen one I pined for.
So I've focused my energies on developing my creative talents instead of trying to grow towards particular employment qualifications.
As a result, I'm automatically handicapped when entering the job safari.
It's depressing.
Not because there aren't jobs available, but because I just can't seem to get excited at the prospect of any of them.
I know I definitely need to get away from my current job.
Been there almost four years, and I'm about ready to start dropping f-bombs from the moment I start each workday.
I think that's a good sign it's time to LEAVE.
But leave to what?
I'm finally getting benefits, which will probably NEVER happen with any other part-time job.
Paid time off, paid holidays...it's nice.
But it's also been a pain, given how easily it can be taken away if you don't keep track.
I need to leave.
I've been an outsider from day 1 at this branch, no matter how much I learned I had in common with several of my coworkers.
Plus since the turnover rate is so high, it's not like at the previous branch where I spent 3 years getting to know everyone because NOBODY EVER LEFT.
..until I did, to be closer to home and school.
The management gets on my nerves, the "policies" are such lack-of-common-sense crap (especially FORCED "friendliness"), and an overall sense of BS permeates nearly all interactions between staff members.
But again, I'm not sure where I'm going.
It's not as if I'm saying, "Okay, time to ditch the crap job and get the one I've always dreamed of!"
Am I weird for never dreaming about having a particular job?
My dreams tended to be DOING THINGS, like winning a Pulitzer or even just seeing my name in the Table of Contents in an anthology.
Well, I've gotten the latter twice, thanks to college publications.
Still, it's not the best thing to keep in mind when roving through monster.com trying to find something that sounds good.
Even career coaching books have nothing for you if you ever answer one of their questions with "I don't know."
Prime example:
"Think of someone you've seen in person or on TV who looked like they were doing something you'd want to do."
1) Including TV in that is total BS, because who doesn't want to be on TV in some capacity?
2) I've NEVER seen someone doing a JOB that made me all giddy inside.
When I say "job", I don't mean "performing artist," "theatrical performer," or "choreography expert."
I.E., singer/instrumentalist, actor, or dancer.
I'm talking about day-to-day, 9-5, pays-the-bills type of job.
Never seen one I pined for.
So I've focused my energies on developing my creative talents instead of trying to grow towards particular employment qualifications.
As a result, I'm automatically handicapped when entering the job safari.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Nearing the End
"I have been in the [college] business so long, I don't know what to do with the rest of my life."
Welp, little update from last time.
Been kicking ass this semester, the LAST thing I was expecting to do, in my Bio and Chem classes.
Just wish World Lit would straighten up and fly right.
Weird that I'm having the least trouble in the sciences, but Lit has been a nonstop pain.
Oh well, three more weeks and the whole thing can flush itself.
Video Game Writing
Fantasy/Sci Fi Writing
Comic Book Writing
and then whatever's available in Spring, and then I'm OUT THIS MOFO.
...at least until I come crawling back to get an MFA in Creative Studies at some point.
They seriously need to just bite the bullet and call it a CREATIVE WRITING degree, just so I don't have to explain to every. single. person. who asks what my major is what the hell "creative studies" means.
I may not get to touch Novel Writing during this degree, since it's the only CS elective with prerequisites other than CW1 and 2.
Oh well.
Got to meet Rilla Askew (and subsequently crap myself as a library worker who shelves her books) last semester, so it's all good.
Now I just have to meet P.C. Cast, in a medium other than the blogsphere.
Welp, little update from last time.
Been kicking ass this semester, the LAST thing I was expecting to do, in my Bio and Chem classes.
Just wish World Lit would straighten up and fly right.
Weird that I'm having the least trouble in the sciences, but Lit has been a nonstop pain.
Oh well, three more weeks and the whole thing can flush itself.
Video Game Writing
Fantasy/Sci Fi Writing
Comic Book Writing
and then whatever's available in Spring, and then I'm OUT THIS MOFO.
...at least until I come crawling back to get an MFA in Creative Studies at some point.
They seriously need to just bite the bullet and call it a CREATIVE WRITING degree, just so I don't have to explain to every. single. person. who asks what my major is what the hell "creative studies" means.
I may not get to touch Novel Writing during this degree, since it's the only CS elective with prerequisites other than CW1 and 2.
Oh well.
Got to meet Rilla Askew (and subsequently crap myself as a library worker who shelves her books) last semester, so it's all good.
Now I just have to meet P.C. Cast, in a medium other than the blogsphere.
Friday, March 11, 2011
The Ballad of John Henry
John Henry was a steel drivin’ man.
They say one day
He’ll die with that hammer in his hand.
John Henry would whistle,
And just as often sing,
But in the mountain in the mornin’
You could hear his hammer ring.
That Yankee had a great machine
To drill the rock away.
It was said to drill like ten tall men,
All the livelong day.
The captain told John Henry,
“Boy, you got a willin’ mind,
But you’d best lay your hammer down.
You won’t beat this machine of mine.”
John Henry told the captain,
“Boss when you go to town,
Buy me a twenty-pound hammer, and I’ll drive that steel drill down.
I swear by all that’s holy, I’ll drive that steel drill down.”
John Henry looked at the mountain,
And he got in the lead to drive,
But the rock was so tall and John Henry so small,
That he hung down his head and he cried.
That Yankee had a great machine
To steal their pride away.
A machine of faceless, hateful men
Who played the part by day.
The captain told John Henry,
“Son you got a willin’ mind,
But you’d best lay your hammer down.
You won’t beat this machine of mine.”
John Henry told the captain, “A man is just a man,
But before that machine can beat me down I’ll die with a hammer in my hand.”
John Henry told the captain that a man is just a man,
“And I swear by all that’s right and wrong I’ll kill you where you stand.”
John Henry, O John Henry,
John Henry’s hammer too,
Beat a man like a wounded dog,
There’s no tellin’ what a man might do.
No tellin’ what a mighty man do.
John Henry kissed his hammer;
Kissed it with a groan;
Sighed a sigh and closed his eyes,
Said “Wife, I’m coming home.”
John Henry was on the mountain,
And the mountain was so high.
He called to his pretty little wife,
Said “I can almost touch the sky.
I can almost touch the sky.”
John Henry, O, John Henry!
The blood is running red!
John Henry falls down with his hammah to th’ groun’,
And he knows he is better off dead.
Not because of men with guns,
Or clubs or rope and lies;
John Henry saw the future through the whites of a baby’s eyes.
They took John Henry to the white house,
And buried him in the sand,
And every locomotive come roarin’ by,
Says “There lays a steel drivin’ man,”
There lays a steel drivin’ man.
They say one day
He’ll die with that hammer in his hand.
John Henry would whistle,
And just as often sing,
But in the mountain in the mornin’
You could hear his hammer ring.
That Yankee had a great machine
To drill the rock away.
It was said to drill like ten tall men,
All the livelong day.
The captain told John Henry,
“Boy, you got a willin’ mind,
But you’d best lay your hammer down.
You won’t beat this machine of mine.”
John Henry told the captain,
“Boss when you go to town,
Buy me a twenty-pound hammer, and I’ll drive that steel drill down.
I swear by all that’s holy, I’ll drive that steel drill down.”
John Henry looked at the mountain,
And he got in the lead to drive,
But the rock was so tall and John Henry so small,
That he hung down his head and he cried.
That Yankee had a great machine
To steal their pride away.
A machine of faceless, hateful men
Who played the part by day.
The captain told John Henry,
“Son you got a willin’ mind,
But you’d best lay your hammer down.
You won’t beat this machine of mine.”
John Henry told the captain, “A man is just a man,
But before that machine can beat me down I’ll die with a hammer in my hand.”
John Henry told the captain that a man is just a man,
“And I swear by all that’s right and wrong I’ll kill you where you stand.”
John Henry, O John Henry,
John Henry’s hammer too,
Beat a man like a wounded dog,
There’s no tellin’ what a man might do.
No tellin’ what a mighty man do.
John Henry kissed his hammer;
Kissed it with a groan;
Sighed a sigh and closed his eyes,
Said “Wife, I’m coming home.”
John Henry was on the mountain,
And the mountain was so high.
He called to his pretty little wife,
Said “I can almost touch the sky.
I can almost touch the sky.”
John Henry, O, John Henry!
The blood is running red!
John Henry falls down with his hammah to th’ groun’,
And he knows he is better off dead.
Not because of men with guns,
Or clubs or rope and lies;
John Henry saw the future through the whites of a baby’s eyes.
They took John Henry to the white house,
And buried him in the sand,
And every locomotive come roarin’ by,
Says “There lays a steel drivin’ man,”
There lays a steel drivin’ man.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
