It's tough being a visionary.
When I was just five years old I sent the concept of the interweb to J. C. R. Licklider. Reluctant at first, it took him a full year before he finally went public with the idea in 1960. Technology caught up and it became a global phenomena in the '80s and then commercialized in the '90s. All along I urged the powers that be to keep my name out of it.
Why? The world of idea generation isn't always a pleasant place. I had a few hiccups when I envisioned betamax, the new Coke, blue ketchup and the 1970 AMC Gremlin and I didn't need another lemon on my record. So, the service belongs to everyone, not me. It's safer that way. No one gets upset at me if it goes all wonky.
As of 2011 more than 2.2 billion people use the service and having that many people in one place leaves the possibility open for certain icky factors to creep in. But, being human means taking the bad with the good. And the interweb is a human experience: therefore it's only natural that there will be 'web bad'.
Just remember, it's not my fault.
Have to go. I'm working on a beer container made of recycled organic pretzels that you don't have to tip to drink. It opens on the bottom and you just hold it above your mouth. Works with gravity. To stop the flow you just turn it upside down, or put your thumb over the opening. And you can eat the empties. Very environmentally friendly. You heard it here first.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Saturday, October 27, 2012
3 Years...
And you all thought I wouldn't remember. Ha! Today marks the three-year anniversary of Rand's Place (hoo-ha-ramalama-ding-dong!)
This haven of pretentious banter, somewhat wacky and sometimes questionable logic was launched Tuesday, October 27, 2009.
This haven of pretentious banter, somewhat wacky and sometimes questionable logic was launched Tuesday, October 27, 2009.
In celebration, I present some images from posts over the past three years.
Thank you for allowing me to share some work
Images from the past (I'm the one on the right)
Home action
Colleagues in action
Three dimensional work
Images from my backyard
'Poke in the eye' moments
Reflected images
Graphic explorations
Preposterous theories
Intense tributes
Silly Bag Lady moments
Personal definitions
Popular revelations
Professional moments
Repurposed punctuation
Notes to Mom
Business theories
And some loves lost.
Thanks for all your visits and comments!
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
You, Me, David Niven and the Universe
It was about how many of us live our life from a myopic viewpoint. We have to because it's the stuff closest to us that affects us more often than not. It's the little dog nipping at our heels that gets our attention, not the big one on the other side of the fence. And when we're that used to looking at stuff up close it's no wonder that when we look up and try to make sense of the big picture that our vision is a bit blurred. It's like looking at something fuzzy but still there. Like a thought in a dream. It takes a few blinks to focus. Or corrective lenses. (Telescopes, on the other hand don't help. They just see things far away.)
Maybe we're all just absorbed in trying to being perfect or pay the bills or we have David Niven dancing with Deborah Kerr in a corner of our mind, saying, "Keep the circus going inside you, keep it going, don`t take anything too seriously, it'll all work out in the end."
The above diagram is a crass generalization of course, because there are a million variations. Everyone's would be different based on their circumstances. And I didn't have the time to do everyone's. But you get the idea.
I don't consider this exercise a neurotic fixation on the big picture but more a conversation about the value of putting our relationships with others in their place. Being conscious of the big picture and where we are in relation to the influences around us, as we all move toward the future, helps us stop being freaked so often. And it permits us to recognize and ignore whatever is not important.
Gotta go. Somewhere in society cowbells are ringing and I have to go ignore them consciously.
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Thanks for the feedback from FB friends who were kind enough to comment on a rough of this graphic. Thanks to Ron (who wanted more "you"... and cowbells), Linda who agreed about the cowbells thing, Kristy who thought the area that was then "things that are not possible" should really be "pie in the sky things", and Vonnie who thought the "you" should be closer to the "me". And thanks also to Manda, Charlotte, Christine and Jen for validation and moral support.
Friday, October 19, 2012
That'll Be The Day
This post is early, Pilgrim. It'll have to come back tomorrow at high noon but not after that because then it will be late and people's time is valuable. So it'll be back tomorrow. Will the post be done by then, all prettied up and presented with a bow? Ha! That'll be the day.Wait. Bright, shiny object.
This phrase was said twice in a 1956 film called The Searchers, (amazingly, the photo-illustrations above are images from the same movie). The first time Mr. Wayne said it was as an answer to, "You wanna quit, Ethan?" And the second time was in response to "I hope you die." To which the Duke (who wasn't officially the Duke yet) said, "That'll be the day." What a great phrase that is. Short, direct, to the point and a little sarcastic when used in the proper manner.
There are so few phrases in the English lexicon that have added as much to the well being of the world. Heck, it stopped WW3 before it started. Trust me. True. And how many a crime or an unwanted baby has not been conceived because of this phrase? Think about various potential messy situations where when the bad guys were on the verge of doing what they did and they had the idea but instead of doing it they considered it but said to themselves, "That'll be the day!" Things like this never make the news. Think of all those suicide bombers. They may not even know English but all they'd have to learn is this one phrase, say it and then they could go home to their families instead of blowing themselves up. What if we were to teach people that the only answer to "Hungry?" or "Poor?" or "In trouble?" is "That'll be the day." Then maybe the phrase could be put up for the Pulitzer Peace Prize.
So when tomorrow is actually today and I'm waiting for answers to difficult questions; I've decided that waiting for a time when more people answered with this phrase to be well worth waiting a bit longer for. Come back then. We'll have a party.
And won't that be a day?
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The Searchers was a favorite of several directors including Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese and George Lucas. It was said to be the first Western in which racism and sexuality was explored in a serious and unpretentious way. Buddy Holly was so impressed with the phrase he and Jerry Allison wrote a song about it in June 1956.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
A Cure For The Sadly Compassionate
You've met my Inner Bag Lady. She's invented a new therapy for those who are confused about what profound crises to care for. It's called Intentional Compassion Fatigue Therapy (ICFT).
More and more we're subjected to all kinds of social unrest, wars, world poverty, global climate change, individual rights, and environmental issues. Add to that the mess that remains after natural disasters like floods, storms and earthquakes. And let's not leave out local causes providing programs for the homeless, the disadvantaged, or the displaced. Then, there are our own families and friends – chances are there is woe going on somewhere in there as well. Society dictates we're supposed to care about all these things but it's all so overwhelming. How can we decide where our concern, charity and compassion should be placed, and in what order?
Inner Bag Lady, of course, has an opinion. "The question should be: Why do we have to care at all? Like, hey, we're busy people. Do we have time for all this lovey-dovey-group-huggy stuff? Just who is responsible for making us responsible for others, anyway? Who are we supposed to be, Mother Theresa?"
Those questions led to her developing the Intentional Compassion Fatigue Therapy. Her three-day getaway seminars include workshops on techniques for becoming so overloaded with strife that any compassion that should creep into your mind will hightail it out of there. Workshops in her seminars include:
1) Marrying the Media. Learn techniques on reading as many newspapers, monitoring as many news sites and watching as many news shows as you can and how this will help your progress to compassion fatigue. Discover how journalism analysts argue that the media has caused widespread compassion fatigue by saturating their pages with stories of tragedy. Theoretically, this causes the public to become cynical or resistant to helping people and it can work for you as well
2) The Beauty of Doom and Gloom. Fringe religions, wonderfully wacky political groups and anarchist sites offer more fuel for the fire. Find out which ones are the most effective and how to sign up for their e-newsletters and RSS feeds
3) Jobs that Work Gooder. Professions like law and health care are said to be several times more likely to be compassion fatigue friendly than others. Those who have enormous capacity expressing empathy tend to be better disposed for compassion fatigue. Explore these and other fantastic career choices
4) Luring Charities by Phone. Find out how donating and giving your personal information to one telemarketing charity will popularize you and how you'll be besieged by thousands of others with no effort on your own part
5) Beating Yourself with a Sick Granny. This special session includes listening to your host whine ceaselessly for hours about chronic illnesses and failing health issues she has met, and
6) Commercials Worth Watching. Get expert advice about the benefits of watching ads that contain crying babies, weeping celebrities or sorrowful looks from puppies. Free DVD given at the end of the workshop that contains two hours of never-ending pleas.
You too can discover the peace of a decrease in productivity, the inability to focus, and the development of new feelings of incompetency and self doubt.
Workshops take place on exciting street corners, deserted parking lots and abandoned warehouses. The latest in high tech media is provided by looking through shop windows. Comfy accommodations on park benches can be provided at an extra charge. Group rates are available.
Sign up for Inner Bag Lady's next workshop seminar and get your "Who Cares, Not Me" bumper sticker for free.
More and more we're subjected to all kinds of social unrest, wars, world poverty, global climate change, individual rights, and environmental issues. Add to that the mess that remains after natural disasters like floods, storms and earthquakes. And let's not leave out local causes providing programs for the homeless, the disadvantaged, or the displaced. Then, there are our own families and friends – chances are there is woe going on somewhere in there as well. Society dictates we're supposed to care about all these things but it's all so overwhelming. How can we decide where our concern, charity and compassion should be placed, and in what order?
Inner Bag Lady, of course, has an opinion. "The question should be: Why do we have to care at all? Like, hey, we're busy people. Do we have time for all this lovey-dovey-group-huggy stuff? Just who is responsible for making us responsible for others, anyway? Who are we supposed to be, Mother Theresa?"
Those questions led to her developing the Intentional Compassion Fatigue Therapy. Her three-day getaway seminars include workshops on techniques for becoming so overloaded with strife that any compassion that should creep into your mind will hightail it out of there. Workshops in her seminars include:
1) Marrying the Media. Learn techniques on reading as many newspapers, monitoring as many news sites and watching as many news shows as you can and how this will help your progress to compassion fatigue. Discover how journalism analysts argue that the media has caused widespread compassion fatigue by saturating their pages with stories of tragedy. Theoretically, this causes the public to become cynical or resistant to helping people and it can work for you as well
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| Gratuitous meaningless music demonstrations daily! |
3) Jobs that Work Gooder. Professions like law and health care are said to be several times more likely to be compassion fatigue friendly than others. Those who have enormous capacity expressing empathy tend to be better disposed for compassion fatigue. Explore these and other fantastic career choices
4) Luring Charities by Phone. Find out how donating and giving your personal information to one telemarketing charity will popularize you and how you'll be besieged by thousands of others with no effort on your own part
5) Beating Yourself with a Sick Granny. This special session includes listening to your host whine ceaselessly for hours about chronic illnesses and failing health issues she has met, and
6) Commercials Worth Watching. Get expert advice about the benefits of watching ads that contain crying babies, weeping celebrities or sorrowful looks from puppies. Free DVD given at the end of the workshop that contains two hours of never-ending pleas.
You too can discover the peace of a decrease in productivity, the inability to focus, and the development of new feelings of incompetency and self doubt.
Workshops take place on exciting street corners, deserted parking lots and abandoned warehouses. The latest in high tech media is provided by looking through shop windows. Comfy accommodations on park benches can be provided at an extra charge. Group rates are available.
Sign up for Inner Bag Lady's next workshop seminar and get your "Who Cares, Not Me" bumper sticker for free.
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Chill Out, It's All Cool
Let's talk about cool. Not the temperature kind, and not the keeping your bearings under stress kind: the quality of stuff kind.
According the Wikipedia this kind of "cool" is an admired aesthetic of attitude, behavior, comportment, appearance and style, influenced by and a product of the Zeitgeist (the spirit of the times). Because of the varied connotations of cool the word has no single meaning. They say Aristotle got the concept of cool way back. His notion of cool is to be found in his ethical writings, most particularly the Nicomachean Ethics. Contemporary cool began in 1940's hot jazz clubs where they'd open up the windows late at night to clear the hot, smokey air and gave birth to cool jazz and the beat generation.
Cool is a funny thing. You can't hold it or possess it. And you can't catch it like you can a cold. You can only observe it and appreciate it. What is cool to you may not be cool to anyone else and that's okay because you can appreciate that there are different flavors of cools.
The factors that make up cool have changed over time. And cool has been maligned, misused and overused by people who don't understand the concept but just wanted to appear cool. But at the end of the day certain things will always be totally cool to me. Being able to play while you work. That first kiss with someone who you never thought you'd be able to kiss – and finding them kissing you back. Reading a book that grabs you as soon as you crack open the cover and doesn't let you go until you reach the last page. It's seeing a piece of art or design that makes you stop and go "wow". It's hearing a little kid's uncontrollable laughter and listening to a musician perform for you what they've spent a lifetime practicing. It's knowing that someone is not just listening to you but is hearing you. Cool is seeing someone struggle for so long and finally succeeding.
And it's someone who doesn't think they're cool at all... but are. Like you.
According the Wikipedia this kind of "cool" is an admired aesthetic of attitude, behavior, comportment, appearance and style, influenced by and a product of the Zeitgeist (the spirit of the times). Because of the varied connotations of cool the word has no single meaning. They say Aristotle got the concept of cool way back. His notion of cool is to be found in his ethical writings, most particularly the Nicomachean Ethics. Contemporary cool began in 1940's hot jazz clubs where they'd open up the windows late at night to clear the hot, smokey air and gave birth to cool jazz and the beat generation.
Cool is a funny thing. You can't hold it or possess it. And you can't catch it like you can a cold. You can only observe it and appreciate it. What is cool to you may not be cool to anyone else and that's okay because you can appreciate that there are different flavors of cools.
The factors that make up cool have changed over time. And cool has been maligned, misused and overused by people who don't understand the concept but just wanted to appear cool. But at the end of the day certain things will always be totally cool to me. Being able to play while you work. That first kiss with someone who you never thought you'd be able to kiss – and finding them kissing you back. Reading a book that grabs you as soon as you crack open the cover and doesn't let you go until you reach the last page. It's seeing a piece of art or design that makes you stop and go "wow". It's hearing a little kid's uncontrollable laughter and listening to a musician perform for you what they've spent a lifetime practicing. It's knowing that someone is not just listening to you but is hearing you. Cool is seeing someone struggle for so long and finally succeeding.
And it's someone who doesn't think they're cool at all... but are. Like you.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
There Just Ain't No Justice
For a few weeks each year nature sends notice that winter approaches. Temperatures begin to drop, squirrels rummage for food to fill their larders for the coming winter, and it's all heralded by a dramatic show of autumnal color.
In reality we are witnessing a heinous crime.
The Unfair, Cruel and Inhumane Manufacturing Employment Practices of the Common Deciduous Tree
It's a sad example of how a factory employs workers when times are good and discards them the moment things get a bit difficult.
The industry of turning water and carbon dioxide into oxygen and sugar is called photosynthesis. Trees excel at this business. Roots are drilled to take water from the ground and leaves are employed to extract carbon dioxide from the air and use the sunlight they absorb to turn the water and carbon dioxide into oxygen and glucose. Leaves are hard workers. They toil tirelessly seven days a week from sun up to sundown without overtime pay, health care, sick days, lunch or dinner breaks, vacations at the beach or chance for promotion.
Both oxygen and glucose (sugar) are highly valuable products. The tree finds a ready market for the oxygen (people use it to live and breathe) and uses the sugar either for maple syrup, or to open up new branches. When everything is hunky dory and the raw materials are plentiful, the leaves of deciduous trees are kept rich with the promise of endless chlorophyll for all.
But this turns out to be just a ruse on the part of the tree's management team.
In the autumn when the days get shorter and dryer, management gets the jitters and begins to think about curbing production until the supply of raw materials and cheap energy is back to where they like it (and to ensure their year-end bonuses are safe). While they have enough product stored in their trunks to sustain them until next year, they say they can't afford to feed unproductive workers. They need to cut costs. So what do they do? They shut down the shop floor. The supply of green chlorophyll is cold-bloodedly shut off from the leaves, leaving them a ghastly yellow and orange color. They're left out in the cold to whither and die silently and drift to the ground to be cursed at by people who have to rake.
This happens every year.
In reality we are witnessing a heinous crime.
The Unfair, Cruel and Inhumane Manufacturing Employment Practices of the Common Deciduous Tree
It's a sad example of how a factory employs workers when times are good and discards them the moment things get a bit difficult.
The industry of turning water and carbon dioxide into oxygen and sugar is called photosynthesis. Trees excel at this business. Roots are drilled to take water from the ground and leaves are employed to extract carbon dioxide from the air and use the sunlight they absorb to turn the water and carbon dioxide into oxygen and glucose. Leaves are hard workers. They toil tirelessly seven days a week from sun up to sundown without overtime pay, health care, sick days, lunch or dinner breaks, vacations at the beach or chance for promotion.
Both oxygen and glucose (sugar) are highly valuable products. The tree finds a ready market for the oxygen (people use it to live and breathe) and uses the sugar either for maple syrup, or to open up new branches. When everything is hunky dory and the raw materials are plentiful, the leaves of deciduous trees are kept rich with the promise of endless chlorophyll for all.
But this turns out to be just a ruse on the part of the tree's management team.
In the autumn when the days get shorter and dryer, management gets the jitters and begins to think about curbing production until the supply of raw materials and cheap energy is back to where they like it (and to ensure their year-end bonuses are safe). While they have enough product stored in their trunks to sustain them until next year, they say they can't afford to feed unproductive workers. They need to cut costs. So what do they do? They shut down the shop floor. The supply of green chlorophyll is cold-bloodedly shut off from the leaves, leaving them a ghastly yellow and orange color. They're left out in the cold to whither and die silently and drift to the ground to be cursed at by people who have to rake.
This happens every year.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
The Zen Of Nothing
"There is not enough time to do all the nothing we want to do." ~ Bill Watterson
Nothing has always gotten such a bad rap. It's a word people use to denote things lacking importance, value, relevance, or significance.
Western philosophers have bitched back and forth over the centuries about whether the concept of "nothing" even existed. Parmenides argued that "nothing" cannot exist because for something to exist it must be real. Aristotle provided a work-around by stating "nothing" is a container in which objects can be placed.
Common man philosophers nowadays say that when you have nothing you have nothing left to lose (geez, that would make a really great song). It's a zen thing I suppose.
You may have something there when you're happy with nothing and everyone else aspires to have everything (and can't possibly). Truth is, there are huge benefits with having, being, or representing nothing. If you have nothing in your pockets and nothing to declare you whisk through airline security like nobody's business. If you are privy to nothing and witness nothing no one will ever call you to testify in court. If you normally have nothing to say people will stop and listen when you finally do. And if you have nothing in mind, at least you have lots of room should something happen along. When you have nothing on your agenda you have plenty of time to knock about and look around at stuff you probably wouldn't have noticed otherwise... then there are the naps you suddenly have time for.
So maybe there's more to nothing than we think.
Western philosophers have bitched back and forth over the centuries about whether the concept of "nothing" even existed. Parmenides argued that "nothing" cannot exist because for something to exist it must be real. Aristotle provided a work-around by stating "nothing" is a container in which objects can be placed.
Common man philosophers nowadays say that when you have nothing you have nothing left to lose (geez, that would make a really great song). It's a zen thing I suppose.
You may have something there when you're happy with nothing and everyone else aspires to have everything (and can't possibly). Truth is, there are huge benefits with having, being, or representing nothing. If you have nothing in your pockets and nothing to declare you whisk through airline security like nobody's business. If you are privy to nothing and witness nothing no one will ever call you to testify in court. If you normally have nothing to say people will stop and listen when you finally do. And if you have nothing in mind, at least you have lots of room should something happen along. When you have nothing on your agenda you have plenty of time to knock about and look around at stuff you probably wouldn't have noticed otherwise... then there are the naps you suddenly have time for.
So maybe there's more to nothing than we think.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
My Birthday Present To You
Home video taken today from my home in Canada. Geez, I hope it looks okay... All my best to all. Love Rand
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
10 Ways To Get Your Very Own Creative Block
It's such a luxury: creative block. You get to take a break and do nothing but complain. And the angst associated with it proves one to be a true professional because who else could get creative block than those who are truly creative. It goes under a number of different names: writer's block is the most recognized – first described in 1947 by psychoanalyst Edmund Bergler. Artist's block and blogger's block are becoming just as well known.
There is much written material these days on how to get rid of one (like they're a bad thing or something), but really no literature at all about how to get one. So for those whose minds just won't turn off, who are working too hard and needing to take a break; I offer these tips:
1) Stop working. Rule number one. If you're a writer, stop writing. If you're an artist, stop. You can't expect a decent creative block to hang out for long if you're still working
2) Do not sleep. Giving the brain a break and putting it to sleep will just give it a chance to rejuvenate itself. Similarly, daytime naps are super bad
3) Do not read books or surf the web. There is a danger that the stimulation that comes from the work of other people will keep the gears turning in your mind. Too many books and sites contain highly creative thoughts which may give you ideas of your own. Instead, try the herding of cats in your mind thing
4) Change your socks only when holes appear. I don't know why this is effective but trust me, it works. If you find yourself on the way to the sock drawer, practice being distracted by bright, shiny objects
5) Stay away from art galleries, museums and coffee table books. Again, it's the stimulation thing. As an alternative you might try watching the daily debate on the political channel or zone out in front of the Shopper's Channel. Sure to frustrate
6) Stay out of the shower. Too many times great ideas and inspiration comes from menial tasks that let the mind flow. Same goes with doing dishes, washing the car and watching grass grow
7) Personal grooming should be avoided. Try to look the part at least. The more tortured you appear and the more you look at yourself both in the mirror and through the eyes of others, the more real your creative block will seem; until it is
8) Eat comfort food. Heavy foods will slow the mind and pave the way for your creative block. Things like pound cakes with super sweet icing, pizza, extra greasy foods and roast beef will keep you weighed down and unresponsive. You might want to stay away from greens and fruit
9) Do not go for long, calming walks. Breathing fresh air and performing any type of exercise may be good for the body but do nothing for brains longing for a block, and/or
10) Yell at inanimate objects. Practice blaming innocent things on your lack of fame and progress. And do not see the humor in yelling at one's microwave. It defeats the purpose.
Many people will find some things will work for them and some things won't. That's completely okay because your creative block should be personalized for maximum longevity. There are no rules.
Good luck and hope this helps!
There is much written material these days on how to get rid of one (like they're a bad thing or something), but really no literature at all about how to get one. So for those whose minds just won't turn off, who are working too hard and needing to take a break; I offer these tips:
1) Stop working. Rule number one. If you're a writer, stop writing. If you're an artist, stop. You can't expect a decent creative block to hang out for long if you're still working
2) Do not sleep. Giving the brain a break and putting it to sleep will just give it a chance to rejuvenate itself. Similarly, daytime naps are super bad
3) Do not read books or surf the web. There is a danger that the stimulation that comes from the work of other people will keep the gears turning in your mind. Too many books and sites contain highly creative thoughts which may give you ideas of your own. Instead, try the herding of cats in your mind thing
4) Change your socks only when holes appear. I don't know why this is effective but trust me, it works. If you find yourself on the way to the sock drawer, practice being distracted by bright, shiny objects
5) Stay away from art galleries, museums and coffee table books. Again, it's the stimulation thing. As an alternative you might try watching the daily debate on the political channel or zone out in front of the Shopper's Channel. Sure to frustrate
6) Stay out of the shower. Too many times great ideas and inspiration comes from menial tasks that let the mind flow. Same goes with doing dishes, washing the car and watching grass grow
7) Personal grooming should be avoided. Try to look the part at least. The more tortured you appear and the more you look at yourself both in the mirror and through the eyes of others, the more real your creative block will seem; until it is
8) Eat comfort food. Heavy foods will slow the mind and pave the way for your creative block. Things like pound cakes with super sweet icing, pizza, extra greasy foods and roast beef will keep you weighed down and unresponsive. You might want to stay away from greens and fruit
9) Do not go for long, calming walks. Breathing fresh air and performing any type of exercise may be good for the body but do nothing for brains longing for a block, and/or
10) Yell at inanimate objects. Practice blaming innocent things on your lack of fame and progress. And do not see the humor in yelling at one's microwave. It defeats the purpose.
Many people will find some things will work for them and some things won't. That's completely okay because your creative block should be personalized for maximum longevity. There are no rules.
Good luck and hope this helps!
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Are You Multi-Talented? Knock It Off.
Do you do more than one thing consistently well? Nasty person. Don't you know never to be good at more than one thing? Because there are pigeonholes, you know. And people like 'em.
Pigeonholes make life nice and tidy. And there's nothing worse than a pigeon to whom you assign a hole who thinks they should have more than one. It's greedy and defeats the whole purpose of world order and clarity.
Besides, with the unemployment rate as high as it is, by doing many things aren't you hogging the work? Why would you want to do that, eh? Don't you think you should be letting other people practice at being good at what they do?
Oh sure, you may think you're a polymath, a true Renaissance person – a great thinker like Leonardo (da Vinci, not DiCaprio). Just who was this Leon Battista Alberti guy, who said A man can do all things if he will? No one talks about him anymore, nor is he on anyone's cocktail party list that I know of.
So you folks out there who may be a multi-talented All-Star, dumb it down for the rest of us will you?
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
The Reign Of Our Creations
Oh, us human beans may think we're pretty cool, having conquered the world and all that. Truth is, there are others (that ironically we, ourselves, invented) who have quietly taken over. And it's been going on for many years. They just let us go on thinking it is us controlling them. Yes, we're talking about tools and hardware. Forget about the high tech zingies, look around; check your toolbox or kitchen drawer. They're in there. And they rule us.
We have become so used to having these things within our reach we often give them no thought except to bitch when we can't find them. We take them for granted. We think of ourselves as their masters. But it's really the other way around. Try to pound a nail without a hammer or grate cheese without a grater. Or even close a door without a catch.
Silently, and without warning, tools and assorted hardware have nefariously exerted control over us simply by making themselves handy. We simply have to use them and when we do, they become our alpha rulers. Just having one gives us the power to do things we otherwise wouldn't have. In effect, we are giving control of the act over to it. We're not grating the cheese. We are not closing doors. They are. We are just supplying the muscle.
We are mere eunuchs to their supreme reign over the world.
-------------------------------
Do not be alarmed: this is just a dramatization. We can't give life to inanimate objects, of course, except by recognizing their usefulness and putting them to work. Doing so is either just being plain weird or having an overactive imagination. Perhaps it was my lack of imaginary friends when young. Perhaps not...
We have become so used to having these things within our reach we often give them no thought except to bitch when we can't find them. We take them for granted. We think of ourselves as their masters. But it's really the other way around. Try to pound a nail without a hammer or grate cheese without a grater. Or even close a door without a catch.
Silently, and without warning, tools and assorted hardware have nefariously exerted control over us simply by making themselves handy. We simply have to use them and when we do, they become our alpha rulers. Just having one gives us the power to do things we otherwise wouldn't have. In effect, we are giving control of the act over to it. We're not grating the cheese. We are not closing doors. They are. We are just supplying the muscle.We are mere eunuchs to their supreme reign over the world.
-------------------------------
Do not be alarmed: this is just a dramatization. We can't give life to inanimate objects, of course, except by recognizing their usefulness and putting them to work. Doing so is either just being plain weird or having an overactive imagination. Perhaps it was my lack of imaginary friends when young. Perhaps not...
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Self-Flagellation Is Often Unnecessary
This is going to be a weird one because I forgot what I was going to write about. I swear I knew what this was going to be about before I sat down but then, hands hit the keyboard and "poof" it was gone.
That also happens during the process sometimes. I'll be writing and then I find what I am saying sounds suspiciously like I am off on a tangent. That my engine isn't pulling a full train of thought anymore. I retrace. And when I do remember what it was originally all about and confirm that I am indeed not talking about that anymore, sometimes the new direction is better than the original.
But this isn't the case today, of course, because I lost it before a word had been placed on paper.
When you lose track of something that hadn't existed yet you do things like walk away from the computer and forget about it for a while hoping that by not thinking about it it will come back to you: resurfacing in the lake of life like a dead body will after a while when the gases bloat the corpse (learned that one from CSI, cool, eh?)
I believe a casual "do it just to do it" exercise and all attempts at doing stuff off the cuff (not by reason of proving to others that you're better, or smarter or that you have something terribly important to impart to the world) are important because you're keeping the gears turning. Your life may not be a life that affects millions, thousands or even fewer than you can count on both hands. But it's uniquely yours and uniquely fitted with shortcomings that are crucial to a full human life experience.
If we can't do something one day, like remember what we were doing, it really shouldn't be any big deal. If we want to do it enough we may be able to do it tomorrow, or on another day. Or we may just not be able to do it at all. Or we may just forget all about it altogether and find something better to do. It doesn't matter.
Screw the self remorse. Ain't nothing to go all self-flagellating about.
There should be no rule about stuff that says we're not allowed to do stuff that proves us only human and no penalty when we confirm it. Some jerks made up most of the other rules we live by for their convenience or our detriment, or both, (or because some other jerk did something stupid and someone yelled "There should be a rule about that!") and we can't do much about those. But self remorse, like sticking your finger in your eye, is one we can do something about. We control its imposition. We are our own small 'g' god of remorse.
Blades of grass do not lament their rate of growth compared to standards. Ground varmints keep digging new tunnels not to win a prize, but to give themselves options, or to make room for relatives.
We write, we create, we learn, we try, we forget, we remember or we don't and we try again. The answer for humans doesn't lie in the remembering that we're all just blades of grass or rodents digging tunnels (because that's just stupid), but it lies in the fact that you won't find very many other creatures on this planet beating themselves up just for being themselves. Fallible.
So about today's post... I'll get back to you on that. :o)
That also happens during the process sometimes. I'll be writing and then I find what I am saying sounds suspiciously like I am off on a tangent. That my engine isn't pulling a full train of thought anymore. I retrace. And when I do remember what it was originally all about and confirm that I am indeed not talking about that anymore, sometimes the new direction is better than the original.
But this isn't the case today, of course, because I lost it before a word had been placed on paper.
When you lose track of something that hadn't existed yet you do things like walk away from the computer and forget about it for a while hoping that by not thinking about it it will come back to you: resurfacing in the lake of life like a dead body will after a while when the gases bloat the corpse (learned that one from CSI, cool, eh?)
I believe a casual "do it just to do it" exercise and all attempts at doing stuff off the cuff (not by reason of proving to others that you're better, or smarter or that you have something terribly important to impart to the world) are important because you're keeping the gears turning. Your life may not be a life that affects millions, thousands or even fewer than you can count on both hands. But it's uniquely yours and uniquely fitted with shortcomings that are crucial to a full human life experience.
If we can't do something one day, like remember what we were doing, it really shouldn't be any big deal. If we want to do it enough we may be able to do it tomorrow, or on another day. Or we may just not be able to do it at all. Or we may just forget all about it altogether and find something better to do. It doesn't matter.
Screw the self remorse. Ain't nothing to go all self-flagellating about.
There should be no rule about stuff that says we're not allowed to do stuff that proves us only human and no penalty when we confirm it. Some jerks made up most of the other rules we live by for their convenience or our detriment, or both, (or because some other jerk did something stupid and someone yelled "There should be a rule about that!") and we can't do much about those. But self remorse, like sticking your finger in your eye, is one we can do something about. We control its imposition. We are our own small 'g' god of remorse.
Blades of grass do not lament their rate of growth compared to standards. Ground varmints keep digging new tunnels not to win a prize, but to give themselves options, or to make room for relatives.
We write, we create, we learn, we try, we forget, we remember or we don't and we try again. The answer for humans doesn't lie in the remembering that we're all just blades of grass or rodents digging tunnels (because that's just stupid), but it lies in the fact that you won't find very many other creatures on this planet beating themselves up just for being themselves. Fallible.
So about today's post... I'll get back to you on that. :o)
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Tips For Effective Misunderstandings
Understanding may not be all it's tooted to be. Trying to
instill a level of comprehension is time consuming, often boring and frequently fruitless.
Besides, ain't nothing better than a good old fashioned misunderstanding to get the blood boiling and set the ants-a-dancing. (Sorry, I don't know where that one came from).
Many people stumble into misunderstandings and consider them errors of communication but some know the value of the intentional creation of confusion for fun and games. And those who may be interested are often not confident enough in the phenomena to generate them at will. So, I offer the above graphic. I didn't mean to learn this, it was there – insinuated into my tiny little brain bit-by-bit over the years.
The art of generating misunderstandings is a life skill that includes the following:
1) Freedom of speech is on your side. Generating confusion is not necessarily the time for honesty, unless it benefits you. Fairness, truth and morality can be easily skewed to your perspective and favor, and doing so streamlines the process. Be frank with your discourse. Or if your name is not Frank, make one up. Like Frank
2) Keep it dramatic. Try shouting, "Please be vigilant, there is a possible danger of Carcharodon carcharias in the area" at a packed beach and then try shouting "Shark!" The choice is yours. Remember, passion and determination will carry you further, faster. Crying at appropriate times will keep eyes from glazing over
3) Remember, we were all brought up on fiction. It began when we were young with the logic behind things like a) the Easter Bunny and the eggs, and b) a jolly fat Santa and a narrow chimney. You owe it to mankind to keep the magic going
4) Keep the vitriol upbeat. Develop a hearty guffaw as a response to logic. Alternatively, readily frown comically, slap your head at anything sounding like the truth and use phrases like "Are you kidding me?"
5) Use the old, "Oh I thought you said..." trick. Misinterpreting what others say will provide you with an escape hatch at the end of the day. There is no great personal stake involved. You're just there to make things more interesting.
Have fun with misunderstandings everyone and if, in the end, you get called out for inaccuracies, untruths or diabolical statements, you can just shrug your shoulders and say, "Hey, it was all just one big misunderstanding."
Besides, ain't nothing better than a good old fashioned misunderstanding to get the blood boiling and set the ants-a-dancing. (Sorry, I don't know where that one came from).
Many people stumble into misunderstandings and consider them errors of communication but some know the value of the intentional creation of confusion for fun and games. And those who may be interested are often not confident enough in the phenomena to generate them at will. So, I offer the above graphic. I didn't mean to learn this, it was there – insinuated into my tiny little brain bit-by-bit over the years.
The art of generating misunderstandings is a life skill that includes the following:
1) Freedom of speech is on your side. Generating confusion is not necessarily the time for honesty, unless it benefits you. Fairness, truth and morality can be easily skewed to your perspective and favor, and doing so streamlines the process. Be frank with your discourse. Or if your name is not Frank, make one up. Like Frank
2) Keep it dramatic. Try shouting, "Please be vigilant, there is a possible danger of Carcharodon carcharias in the area" at a packed beach and then try shouting "Shark!" The choice is yours. Remember, passion and determination will carry you further, faster. Crying at appropriate times will keep eyes from glazing over
3) Remember, we were all brought up on fiction. It began when we were young with the logic behind things like a) the Easter Bunny and the eggs, and b) a jolly fat Santa and a narrow chimney. You owe it to mankind to keep the magic going
4) Keep the vitriol upbeat. Develop a hearty guffaw as a response to logic. Alternatively, readily frown comically, slap your head at anything sounding like the truth and use phrases like "Are you kidding me?"
5) Use the old, "Oh I thought you said..." trick. Misinterpreting what others say will provide you with an escape hatch at the end of the day. There is no great personal stake involved. You're just there to make things more interesting.
Have fun with misunderstandings everyone and if, in the end, you get called out for inaccuracies, untruths or diabolical statements, you can just shrug your shoulders and say, "Hey, it was all just one big misunderstanding."
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Aficionados Of Light
It is dimension and opportunity. There is no shadow without its fire. Glowing from windows at night and glinting in the eye of those who are aware, adept, patient and observant.
The magic travels 95 million miles at 186,000 miles per second in 8 minutes and 17 seconds to bounce off their targets: objects that conjure memories and things we've not seen before.
Giving taste to sight, it lends each entity a unique signature of tint and shape: presenting both variety and beauty, revealing texture, shape and form.
Attendant to its brightness is an invitation to walk through, stand in, admire... or simply take in and pass by. But by noticing and taking part, we show our minds the gift of a world of depth and dimension and open up an inner illumination of our own.
We are aficionados of light.
The magic travels 95 million miles at 186,000 miles per second in 8 minutes and 17 seconds to bounce off their targets: objects that conjure memories and things we've not seen before.
Giving taste to sight, it lends each entity a unique signature of tint and shape: presenting both variety and beauty, revealing texture, shape and form.
Attendant to its brightness is an invitation to walk through, stand in, admire... or simply take in and pass by. But by noticing and taking part, we show our minds the gift of a world of depth and dimension and open up an inner illumination of our own.
We are aficionados of light.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
I Washed My Hands Before Posting This
The World Health Organization says you should wash your hands for as long as it takes you to sing the Happy Birthday song twice. That accounts for the guy in the men's room at East Side Mario's yesterday. (I quickly decided to avoid eye contact.) His hands may have been pristine but his voice was sadly out of tune. Oobadaboobadabing.
I'm not opposed to washing up before I eat and after I go to the washroom or if I've been messing around in nasty stuff but you have to understand I grew up with the saying "gotta eat a little dirt before you die," and I don't get all hyper about accepting the fact that we have to cohabit this world with germs and bacteria (hereafter called germteria) because:
1) I know what to do to minimize their threat, i.e. if you see green stuff waving at you when you open the fridge door you should chuck it
2) Part of what we do should be building up a tolerance to nasty things, i.e. telemarketers, door-to-door evangelists and especially little tiny things we can't see
3) We can't ever eradicate all the bad guys and trying to do so gets our germteria enemy's backs up, causing them to raise funds to become resistant our weapons, and
4) I'm afraid if I start pumping the hand antiseptic at every turn I may end up doing a Lady Macbeth and not be able to stop. I have things to do. Like taking pictures of my cat and writing silly blogposts.
But really, this hand washing thing has almost become a cult. Everyone is telling you how many germterias are on everyday things like doorknobs and your keyboard and how they compare with things you'd expect to be riddled with germteria, like toilet seats. Everywhere you turn there are hand sanitizing stations and signs ordering you to make use of them. On every desk is a bottle of antiseptic. If you shake hands with an associate your eyebrows don't rise anymore when they immediately turn and pump a fistful of foam into their hands. What's next? Daily germteria reports? "If you're thinking about going downtown today, better bring along your CDC approved envirosuit because we have a germ front moving in off the coast."
I get all the stuff about reducing the passing on of disease and illnesses through contact and of the seriousness of the consequences of improper cleaning of surfaces and the benefits of personal hygiene. Many lives have not been lost due to an awareness of hand washing. But just a little bit, when someone feels the need to sanitize their hands immediately after a friendly handshake, don't you want to shake hands with him again just to put that plague back where you intended it to be?
The good thing is, I believe I've stumbled across a great excuse for having a bottle of vodka on my desk.
I'm not opposed to washing up before I eat and after I go to the washroom or if I've been messing around in nasty stuff but you have to understand I grew up with the saying "gotta eat a little dirt before you die," and I don't get all hyper about accepting the fact that we have to cohabit this world with germs and bacteria (hereafter called germteria) because:
1) I know what to do to minimize their threat, i.e. if you see green stuff waving at you when you open the fridge door you should chuck it
2) Part of what we do should be building up a tolerance to nasty things, i.e. telemarketers, door-to-door evangelists and especially little tiny things we can't see
3) We can't ever eradicate all the bad guys and trying to do so gets our germteria enemy's backs up, causing them to raise funds to become resistant our weapons, and
4) I'm afraid if I start pumping the hand antiseptic at every turn I may end up doing a Lady Macbeth and not be able to stop. I have things to do. Like taking pictures of my cat and writing silly blogposts.
But really, this hand washing thing has almost become a cult. Everyone is telling you how many germterias are on everyday things like doorknobs and your keyboard and how they compare with things you'd expect to be riddled with germteria, like toilet seats. Everywhere you turn there are hand sanitizing stations and signs ordering you to make use of them. On every desk is a bottle of antiseptic. If you shake hands with an associate your eyebrows don't rise anymore when they immediately turn and pump a fistful of foam into their hands. What's next? Daily germteria reports? "If you're thinking about going downtown today, better bring along your CDC approved envirosuit because we have a germ front moving in off the coast."
I get all the stuff about reducing the passing on of disease and illnesses through contact and of the seriousness of the consequences of improper cleaning of surfaces and the benefits of personal hygiene. Many lives have not been lost due to an awareness of hand washing. But just a little bit, when someone feels the need to sanitize their hands immediately after a friendly handshake, don't you want to shake hands with him again just to put that plague back where you intended it to be?
The good thing is, I believe I've stumbled across a great excuse for having a bottle of vodka on my desk.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Awards Day
No rants or reflections on the vicisitudes of life today. Instead, I'd like to share a small moment of time...
This morning I got up to look for a hiding cat, bumped my face on the corner of the television while looking behind it, jerked up to hit my head on the wall-mounted speaker, stubbed my toe on the fireplace, hopped back to land my other foot on a plastic cat toy ball with a cute little bell inside, reached out to steady myself on the coffee table and spilled my orange juice, which lent a nice sheen to my cell phone. I careened into the kitchen to get some paper towels and the paper towel rack fell off the wall, which startled me and made me step back and stumble over the cat, who had been under my feet but was now stuck to my leg with thousands of tiny, embedded claws. Which, of course, caused me to end up in the kitty litter (that I had yet to clean today).
I offer this to let you know you're not the only person in the world that sometimes ends up victim to this cause and effect thing and does stupidhead stuff.
These made me feel better. (various sources)
Couple Caught Having Hot, Naked Sex Behind Hot Dog Stand
Calif. ex-teachers plead guilty to sex with teen student for MONTHS and only face PROBATION
Ben & Jerry's sues over porn copycats
Facebook pix spat sparks Philadelphia plane bomb hoax
Be safe out there... and clean the kitty litter. You may need it one day.
This morning I got up to look for a hiding cat, bumped my face on the corner of the television while looking behind it, jerked up to hit my head on the wall-mounted speaker, stubbed my toe on the fireplace, hopped back to land my other foot on a plastic cat toy ball with a cute little bell inside, reached out to steady myself on the coffee table and spilled my orange juice, which lent a nice sheen to my cell phone. I careened into the kitchen to get some paper towels and the paper towel rack fell off the wall, which startled me and made me step back and stumble over the cat, who had been under my feet but was now stuck to my leg with thousands of tiny, embedded claws. Which, of course, caused me to end up in the kitty litter (that I had yet to clean today).
I offer this to let you know you're not the only person in the world that sometimes ends up victim to this cause and effect thing and does stupidhead stuff.
These made me feel better. (various sources)
Couple Caught Having Hot, Naked Sex Behind Hot Dog Stand
Calif. ex-teachers plead guilty to sex with teen student for MONTHS and only face PROBATION
Ben & Jerry's sues over porn copycats
Facebook pix spat sparks Philadelphia plane bomb hoax
Be safe out there... and clean the kitty litter. You may need it one day.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Passion As An Additive
They talk about passion like they speak about other desirables like love, fame, happiness, youth and romantic appeal – like it can be infused into anything as a plus, as something you can buy and sell.... all you have to add to your life is a quick spray or a sip or a taste and the world will become one fairly large orgasmic experience. The world of fashion has doused itself liberally in the word since the silk road toward the west was opened by the Chinese in the 2nd century CE*. Somehow we are both soothed and excited by the idea that the addition of passion in the form of products or services is assured and even
possible. A quick hit of passion, like all impossible things, would be an enticing purchase.
Others write of the word as an attribute and include it in descriptions on web sites, résumés and online profiles like it is something that was learned and can be hung with pride on their wall like a certification. The very words "We're passionate about what we do" supposedly acts as a condemnation of competitors as apathetic, sadly lacking, or barren. Better yet, void of. Incapable of drumming up even a trickle. Dull even. Worse, flaccid.
These people, bless them, would like us to seek passion. To embrace it. To buy it. To give it to us. To speak to it. But imagine if passion were something you could speak to, it would be a very intense but one-dimensional conversation. There are only so many responses to Ohhhhhhhh! or Ahhhhhh!
Truth is, we all know passion is a very personal moment in time. We almost happen across it. We open ourselves to it. We can only predispose ourselves to it and hope it will happen. One can't buy it or sell it or hope to be passionate at will. It happens naturally, rarely and sometimes not at all. Even if one could drum up constant passion you'd think it would probably become painful after a while. It would be like a prolonged energy peak that trips circuit breakers, an over-boiled kettle that burns the bottom out of the pot and would probably involve some nasty messes.
Let us leave these promises to the promise makers.
---------------------------------
*Not long after the conquest of Egypt in 30 BCE the Roman Senate tried in vain to prohibit the wearing of silk, for economic reasons as well as moral ones. Silk clothing was perceived as a sign of decadence and immorality.
Others write of the word as an attribute and include it in descriptions on web sites, résumés and online profiles like it is something that was learned and can be hung with pride on their wall like a certification. The very words "We're passionate about what we do" supposedly acts as a condemnation of competitors as apathetic, sadly lacking, or barren. Better yet, void of. Incapable of drumming up even a trickle. Dull even. Worse, flaccid.
These people, bless them, would like us to seek passion. To embrace it. To buy it. To give it to us. To speak to it. But imagine if passion were something you could speak to, it would be a very intense but one-dimensional conversation. There are only so many responses to Ohhhhhhhh! or Ahhhhhh!
Truth is, we all know passion is a very personal moment in time. We almost happen across it. We open ourselves to it. We can only predispose ourselves to it and hope it will happen. One can't buy it or sell it or hope to be passionate at will. It happens naturally, rarely and sometimes not at all. Even if one could drum up constant passion you'd think it would probably become painful after a while. It would be like a prolonged energy peak that trips circuit breakers, an over-boiled kettle that burns the bottom out of the pot and would probably involve some nasty messes.
Let us leave these promises to the promise makers.
---------------------------------
*Not long after the conquest of Egypt in 30 BCE the Roman Senate tried in vain to prohibit the wearing of silk, for economic reasons as well as moral ones. Silk clothing was perceived as a sign of decadence and immorality.
| “ | I can see clothes of silk, if materials that do not hide the body, nor even one's decency, can be called clothes. ... Wretched flocks of maids labour so that the adulteress may be visible through her thin dress, so that her husband has no more acquaintance than any outsider or foreigner with his wife's body. | ” |
—Seneca the Younger, Declamations Vol. I.
| ||
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Write Like You're Writing To Your Mom
Don't worry, this is not going to be a grammar lesson because you know what nouns, verbs and adjectives are. Look closely and they may just represent the kinds of words that you use. Put enough of these words together in the right order and put a period at the end and you have a sentence. We all know words put together into sentences are the building blocks of communication, but really, they're just the start. Once you've got the knack of them, they almost become irrelevant.
So, even though it took me like an hour and a half to come up with it, you can pretty well print out the above graphic, crumple it up and chuck it in the recycle bin along with your Beetle Bailey comic books.
Here's what I really wanted to show you...
When I was young(er) and thought I knew most everything but wanted to know more I asked a wonderful writer what he thought the most important thing to consider when writing and he said "Write like you're talking to your mother." I smiled and walked away shaking my head. Ask a stupid question...
Years later it dawned on me. I think I've finally figured out what he meant. Maybe. Here goes:
When we write, we write to other human beings simply because it's sort of stupid to write to inanimate objects or animals. Like anything else done well in this world, writing to communicate effectively is an art.
It's just like when you used to talk to your mother. Really. Because I don't know about your mother but you couldn't tell my mother anything. The trick was you had to sort of talk about the subject in a way that she'd listen and take it in and then wait until she figured she had come up with the idea. And then you went, "That was a good idea you came up with, Mom."
Maybe I'm turning into my mother as I get older because I like to be approached in exactly the same manner. Don't try to tell me anything. Don't attempt to impress me with your expertise, don't try to be a guru (because, really, no one is) and don't be patronizing. Be real and who you are. If you're fake or if you lie I'll know; regardless of what you say. Don't be afraid to take me into your confidence. If you need my help, ask. If I can help, I will. And if you ask for my advice do so because you're not just sucking up and listen to what I have to say even if you might not fully understand what I say until years later. Above all, I'm a human just like you. Talk to me like an intelligent human being; don't talk down to me and don't make speeches. Don't whine but be upbeat and humble. And if you make a mistake and hurt someone, even without meaning to, say loudly, "I take responsibility and I'm so fucking sorry." And mean it. And over time, whether you're a person or a brand I'll figure out whether we mesh or not. If you do all that, chances are we will. And we'll both be richer for the experience.
So when I'm writing these days I may use nouns, verbs and adjectives, but if I want to communicate I'm really putting them together for my mom.
Miss you, mom. You taught me a lot.
So, even though it took me like an hour and a half to come up with it, you can pretty well print out the above graphic, crumple it up and chuck it in the recycle bin along with your Beetle Bailey comic books.
Here's what I really wanted to show you...
When I was young(er) and thought I knew most everything but wanted to know more I asked a wonderful writer what he thought the most important thing to consider when writing and he said "Write like you're talking to your mother." I smiled and walked away shaking my head. Ask a stupid question...
Years later it dawned on me. I think I've finally figured out what he meant. Maybe. Here goes:
When we write, we write to other human beings simply because it's sort of stupid to write to inanimate objects or animals. Like anything else done well in this world, writing to communicate effectively is an art.
It's just like when you used to talk to your mother. Really. Because I don't know about your mother but you couldn't tell my mother anything. The trick was you had to sort of talk about the subject in a way that she'd listen and take it in and then wait until she figured she had come up with the idea. And then you went, "That was a good idea you came up with, Mom."
Maybe I'm turning into my mother as I get older because I like to be approached in exactly the same manner. Don't try to tell me anything. Don't attempt to impress me with your expertise, don't try to be a guru (because, really, no one is) and don't be patronizing. Be real and who you are. If you're fake or if you lie I'll know; regardless of what you say. Don't be afraid to take me into your confidence. If you need my help, ask. If I can help, I will. And if you ask for my advice do so because you're not just sucking up and listen to what I have to say even if you might not fully understand what I say until years later. Above all, I'm a human just like you. Talk to me like an intelligent human being; don't talk down to me and don't make speeches. Don't whine but be upbeat and humble. And if you make a mistake and hurt someone, even without meaning to, say loudly, "I take responsibility and I'm so fucking sorry." And mean it. And over time, whether you're a person or a brand I'll figure out whether we mesh or not. If you do all that, chances are we will. And we'll both be richer for the experience.
So when I'm writing these days I may use nouns, verbs and adjectives, but if I want to communicate I'm really putting them together for my mom.
Miss you, mom. You taught me a lot.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Dial M For The Bad Guys
Meet Margot Mary Wendice, who is just about to kill a bad guy. She doesn't know it yet because she's a bit busy being choked by C.A. Swan (the guy she's about to murder). Being choked is sort of occupying her attention at the moment. Oh, I can joke about it now because little did the villain (played by Anthony Dawson) know at the time, but Margot (played by Grace Kelly) had a little trick up her sleeve... actually on the table in front of her. A pair of scissors that fit nicely into Swan's back. To make matters worse for the Swanmeister, he then proceeds to fall backwards, burying the scissors deeper and thus sealing his fate. Dead like a rat. Justice done. Gotta love it.
In the early fifties the image of a villain was well formed by Hollywood et al. It was simple. You could pick them out of a crowd with ease. Their eyes were beady, set close together and shifty. They always had dark hair that was slicked back and wore the ugliest of pencil thin mustaches over a mouth pursed like they just ate cat scat. Good guys never had mustaches (well, except for Valentino) and when they were cowboys they always wore the white hat. In those days cops had a much easier time of it. They could just walk into a room, round up anyone who looked like a bad guy and pop them in the clink. Tidy, tidy, tidy.
These days it's all totally screwed up. Some guys who look like they could rip people apart without blinking may turn out to actually be someone who has the biggest heart and would be the first to come to your help if you were in trouble. And some of those who you'd normally think you could trust with your mother's life can be the most screwed up psychopaths you could imagine. They're not all like that of course, there are good people who look like good guys and bad guys who look like bad guys and they are.
All of which to say it all does a number on my brain.
Maybe life has become so complicated now that we have more technology, we've invented more ways to be bad, but I don't think so. Maybe we're just getting better and more sophisticated at defining and routing out the bad seeds and that's probably a good thing. Still, I can't help but think it all seemed pretty obvious when I was a kid because I was taught that how a person looked could tell you whether they were someone you could trust or someone to avoid... or ridicule, or even hate.
Used to be, you could judge people by how they looked. Now, it appears, you can't.
I propose a dress code.
----------------------------------
Hitchcock's masterpiece of suspense, Dial M for Murder, was written by English playwright Frederick Knott who was well known for his plots that involved women who innocently become the potential victims of sinister plots.
In the early fifties the image of a villain was well formed by Hollywood et al. It was simple. You could pick them out of a crowd with ease. Their eyes were beady, set close together and shifty. They always had dark hair that was slicked back and wore the ugliest of pencil thin mustaches over a mouth pursed like they just ate cat scat. Good guys never had mustaches (well, except for Valentino) and when they were cowboys they always wore the white hat. In those days cops had a much easier time of it. They could just walk into a room, round up anyone who looked like a bad guy and pop them in the clink. Tidy, tidy, tidy.
These days it's all totally screwed up. Some guys who look like they could rip people apart without blinking may turn out to actually be someone who has the biggest heart and would be the first to come to your help if you were in trouble. And some of those who you'd normally think you could trust with your mother's life can be the most screwed up psychopaths you could imagine. They're not all like that of course, there are good people who look like good guys and bad guys who look like bad guys and they are.
All of which to say it all does a number on my brain.
Maybe life has become so complicated now that we have more technology, we've invented more ways to be bad, but I don't think so. Maybe we're just getting better and more sophisticated at defining and routing out the bad seeds and that's probably a good thing. Still, I can't help but think it all seemed pretty obvious when I was a kid because I was taught that how a person looked could tell you whether they were someone you could trust or someone to avoid... or ridicule, or even hate.
Used to be, you could judge people by how they looked. Now, it appears, you can't.
I propose a dress code.
----------------------------------
Hitchcock's masterpiece of suspense, Dial M for Murder, was written by English playwright Frederick Knott who was well known for his plots that involved women who innocently become the potential victims of sinister plots.
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