Movies vs. Television

Can someone please explain to me why actors want to graduate from television to movies? I’ve really never understood the appeal. Working on a television is steady work, hopefully over a number of years. The hours are incredibly long and surely can be exhausting, but you do get several months off every year.

If the issue is creativity, you have the hiatus to work on other pet projects. But really, if you want to tell a story you should need more than 2 hours to accomplish the goal. Movies have the big budgets and big names, but television consistently has the best stories. If you want your character to be more than a caricature, you’ll need to devote some years to the process.

Think about romantic comedies, the incessant bread and butter of the movie industry. You have to describe an entire love story in 90 minutes while including some sort of back story for the other characters. This is obviously pretty difficult, based on the number of failed attempts. If you have two characters on television who are ultimately supposed to fall for each other, you can tell your story more organically.

What’s even better is that you can have a television series about absolutely anything, and have the love arc be part of the series. You ever see a movie with much nuance? Movies are one dimensional by definition, but a long running series can tell all the stories within the story. You get to create an entire world. Movies rarely achieve that goal.

And the love story example is just a simple angle, science fiction necessitates a suspension of disbelief that can have a far grander scope on television than in a movie. Star Trek is an excellent example because the movie franchise necessitated the short running series to create context. The movies are successful because they built off of television, not the other way around.

It just makes me wonder why George Clooney graduating up from ER is a good thing. It’s certainly more profitable, but is his acting and story telling better or worse for making the jump? Now that premium television like HBO and Showtime et al are putting together great original content (avoiding much of the “networks” butchery) it seems like television is the way to go.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy movies and always will. There are certain things that can only be done well in movies. But let’s dispel with the rumor that they are a better medium.

Life Changes

I’ve had a vague feeling of discontent my entire life. The degree varies over the years, but the underlining feeling has always been there. It’s a little bit of sadness, a touch of dread, and a heaping scoop of malcontent. It’s probably a problem that I need to change before it eats me alive.

Fortunately, I think I’ve decided what can cure my ailment. Lust! I need a little bit of lust in my life. I need someone (or several someones) to become completely and illogically enamored with the C. What do you think? It sounds awesome, I know.

I know people like to talk about love and la de da de da. All you need is love and all that jazz. Friends, family, lovers, blah, blah, etc. bullshit, bullshit. Love is great until someone rips your still beating heart from your chest to be trampled by a herd of hopes and dreams. Which apparently happens all the time. I watch a lot of tv, and it’s pretty thematic of every goddamn show.

Look folks, I’ve been bummed about things and all, but all of my drinking binges have been purely recreational. People take their relationships way too seriously. Hell, people take life way too seriously. And that’s why I think I need to reduce my existence to pure innate attraction.

Now all I need to do is find a way for people to lust after me without adjusting my lethargic lifestyle…

Aussies

They have a great accent, don’t they? You hear someone with an Australian accent and you just assume that they are badass. It could be some fat bastard, but when you hear him talk you figure he’s wrestled crocodiles and swam with sharks. You see a fat American and you assume he shops at Wal-Mart. It’s not quite fair, is it?

And what’s with the language? You hear an Aussie guy say “G’day mate!” with such enthusiasm that you smile politely. But hey man, it’s not a "good" "day" and we ain’t gonna mate. But when the chick (who is obviously badass) says “g’day mate!” it’s all “Hey-ho-helllooo!” And mating is required, obviously.

Weird stuff: “put shrimp on the bahbie” What the hell? I ain’t putting any shrimp on Barbie, that’s just a sick fetish thing. What’s wrong with that country? Although I hear that those crazy Northern Asians also have some sort of sushi version.

You can’t trust these people, they all come to the U.S. and sound like us, take our “badass dude” and “hot badass chick” acting gigs away from hard working Americans’. Then you hear them in the interview and it’s all “g’days” and “bahbies.” We’re being invaded, and it’s obviously a conspiracy.

It’s almost as bad as the Canadians, but you already know what they’re aboot.

Thanksgiving

You know you're drinking too much when you run somewhere in the house with your hands full carrying one of your sharpest knives. Up the stairs. Wearing socks. On carpet.

And you people think I'm joking about dying young?

Did I mention they are the slippery kind of dress socks?

Happy Holidays!

Decision Making

You will be wrong.

And you better come to terms with it in a hurry.

It won’t be every decision, and hopefully it won’t be most of your decisions. But it’s going to happen from time to time, so the real question is how you make the next decision after a mistake. Your mistakes don’t define you, but how you react to them certainly will. Take responsibility, try to learn something, and move on with confidence.

Food for thought.

Placental

Here’s a question for the female gender:


Ya’ll know how to nitpick and nag (don’t be sensitive, it’s not always a bad thing.) I don’t know if this is an evolutionary trait or something handed down from mother to daughter. But it’s a reality beyond question. But why is it only mothers’ who are able to instill guilt with such precision?


Mothers are able to make other people feel guilty about absolutely anything. And it really doesn’t matter what it is, you could make me feel bad for chewing a toothpick for no good reason.


Does it have something to do with liquor amnii poisoning? Or do mothers’ only teach this skill to daughters after they have their first child? Is there some kind of conspiracy here?


It’s kind of creepy, this formidable power that ya’ll possess. Remember Spider Man here, with great power comes great responsibility.

Throwing it out there...

I think people underestimate my hilariousness.

Describing my weekend

Threw my back out, so yesterday went something like this:

Expletive, expletive, ow, expletive, ow, expletive, expletive, ow, ow, expletive.

And so on and so forth.

Sometimes

I think that sex should be harder to do.

I saw guy jaywalk with a stroller across an active 4 lane street. This would be fine if there wasn't several cars right in his vicinity. It would make some semblance of sense if the crosswalk was more than 50 feet away. (He was jogging, it was one of those active strollers so presumably he was going for exercise.)

It makes you wonder if this guy should be allowed to use his penis. Maybe you should have to pass a "not a complete dumbass" test or something before being allowed to procreate.

I'm that guy

Look, I know that I make fun of modern “music” quite a bit. And it is a little unfair, since I never listen to it. I’ll hear a song here or there, and think about how hell can’t be that bad, if this is what we have to go through now. But since I don’t watch MTV or listen to the radio, I really am in the dark about these things.

Well, today I expanded my horizons by listening to the radio on my drive to work. I had an audiobook to listen to for awhile, but when it ended I didn’t feel like fumbling through cd’s on the freeway. So I switched to FM and scanned through the stations. Maybe one in five stations wasn’t playing a commercial at any given time, and one in five of those was worth listening to. That’s one in 25 stations people, and I’m pretty sure there are only 20 or so stations that you can get at a time anyway.

It’s really appalling the crap people listen to nowadays. Seriously? This is hip hop? It ain’t hip and I ain’t hopping. Pop music? Who made this stuff popular?

Needless to say that after I confirmed that my ears were not actually bleeding, I put in some cd’s for the ride home.

Two Reasons

... I should start home brewing beer. It combines two of my main hobbies.

1) Drinking

2) Buying shit I don't really need.

Word of the Day

Rotund

Sometimes after an evening of overindulging in food and drink, I feel like a Buddha. And not in a spiritual way.

Rotund.

She's Out of Your League

Has anybody read any of these scientific reports that prove definitively that beautiful women are unhealthy? In a way, they literally break your heart. Attractive women are shown to increase the cortisol levels in men, which has been linked to heart disease along with many other unfortunate maladies.

The men reading this are not surprised that women are linked to a stress hormone.

Oops

It's come to my attention that lately my blog has not been very friendly to vegetarians. If you're offended please pretend that recent pictures were of molded soy products that were photoshopped to look authentic.

In other news I plan on eating some juicy, tasty, dead cow later this evening.

Cheers,

Management

Note to the kids...

...who think that life is some long and epic journey. They sure do like to sound wise, don't they?

It isn't, life is short and full of whatever you fill it with. There's good times, bad times, and the mundane times. I'm always tempted to be honest with kids when they say things like that, but tend not to follow through. I mean, it would be unkind to take away their disillusionment with the obvious facts surrounding us all, wouldn't it?

I'm not saying that life is a pile of shit either. But stop thinking that it's some merry-go-round and then get disappointed. Just face the days you have and start living. Reality has plenty of perks to play with.

Swine

For crying out loud...

Let’s talk about why having a child to save a failing relationship is a bad idea:

· Yeah, kids are a miracle and spawn mysterious feelings of love and blah, blah, blah. They are also a giant pain in the ass.

· If your relationship is tense, the lack of sleep is probably not going to calm things down.

· Do you think your girl is crazy? Let’s see what she looks like on hormones.

· Think your man is afraid of commitment? See how he acts when you drop a $100,000 dollar responsibility in his lap.

· Distractions are never solutions. Though an infant is a hell of a distraction. Points for going all out.

· You’re still going to worry about your kid when he’s 30.

· Parents who fight have kids who fight. Then the kids have kids with people they fight with, spawning another generation of people who piss me off.

· Birth is gross. Watch some Discovery if you don’t believe me. Afterbirth is more gross, however.

· Caesarean is the new midwife. Scar much?

· If you don’t have the stones to deal with relationship problems, you aren’t ready to have a conversation with a 4 year old. They ask the hard questions.

· Pissed off parents are bad parents. And I already don’t like kids, so cut me some slack.

This little piggy...

Getting Old

People get mad at me for talking about getting old. But since I'm falling apart to a degree where I'm unlikely to see my mid-thirties, back off. If I were a horse they'd have put me down already.

One example I've noticed recently is that I've changed how I put shorts on. I used to hold my shorts with both hands, then lean down to step one leg in at a time. This should be a pretty natural maneuver for most of you. Putting on pants isn't all that complex.

However, I've moved beyond that simple procedure and have added a lazy balance element. Instead of holding my clothing and stepping into them, I now dangle the shorts by one side and try to put my first leg in on the swing. This saves me from bending over the 4 inches to reach down to stepping distance.

Why do I go through this, you ask? Because I'm getting old...

100th Post

This is my 100^th blog post. That’s right, number one-oh-hundred. So I thought about writing about something important, or to help bring perspective on some of the better posts. Instead I just decided to write about things that piss me off, because the best way to sum up me is to listen to me pissed off. It’s my best face. So, in no particular order:

· People who make their religion all fuzzy and friendly. Look, if you’re trying to convert people by talking about love and forgiveness, but neglect to mention the jealousy and wrath… that’s just dishonest salesmanship. Be fair, lay it all out.

· When people consider their online interactions as a social life. If you’re socially inept, just live your life in a bottle like a man.

· When people who have been to therapy think they are therapists. Look, therapy is about introspection, so if you think that your treatment means that you understand everybody else better, you’re doing it wrong.

· The California Highway Patrol douchenozzles. If you want to help people, become a cop or sheriff or fire fighter or join animal control or whatever. But the only reason to dedicate your life to traffic enforcement is because you are an asshole and want a gun.

· The phrase “illegal war.” Wars aren’t “legal” or “illegal.” They fall outside of a legal framework, so they would be extra-legal. International law doesn’t exist, because it’s completely unenforceable. The least you can do is make your bitching logical.

· People who speak as authorities in topics they know nothing about. You can’t talk about how dangerous guns are if you’ve never seen one in person. You can’t judge me for smoking if you’ve never tried it. You can have an opinion, but don’t pretend to know anything. We can tell, really.

· Tighty-whities. Eh, personal preference; shouldn’t need an explanation.

· Spam emails. Who the hell is “EJ”? Because I’m getting all of his work from home and cheap prescription medication emails.

· Boston Red Sox fans. Shut up already.

· Yankees Fans. Ditto.

· The celebrity media machine. I don’t like knowing that Lindsay Lohan is in rehab, because I really don’t care. I don’t even know how I know, that’s how inundated I am with this information.

· Entertainment oriented political television. As much fun as it is to argue politics with idiots, it’s never interesting to listen to three people argue without ever having one of them complete a full sentence without being interrupted.

· Squash. The vegetable, not the game. You can get past the terrible taste and still have to deal with the texture. I’d rather have escargot.

· Whining. See: Red Sox, Boston

· Treehuggers. You love the environment? Fine. You feel like constantly lecturing me on the environment? Sure, but you should know that I believe in mercy killing. And it’ll be a mercy if it shuts you up.

· Sobriety. Seriously, life is boring.

· Anytime parents talk to you about their kids as if everything they do is miraculous. Babies aren’t cute, they’re awkwardly goofy. Children are stupid. Just hope they grow out of it.

· Little boys and girls who are adults. The inner child is supposed to be on the inside, stay away from Forever 21.

· Cougars. Just kidding, now buy me a drink.

· People who talk in text speech. Writing “lol” is bad enough, saying it is damn near unforgivable.

· Politicians. They aren’t even good liars anymore. I miss being disillusioned.

· Reality television. Is there anything less real than reality television? Everybody loses with reality television, everybody.

· Vampires that glisten. You can throw werewolves that fall in love with infants. The hell is wrong with you people?

· Tall women. Yes, I’m shallow and easily intimidated.

· Tall men. Screw you.

· Diet anything. Soda, crackers, bread, water, whatever… Here’s how a diet works, you just eat less. But no, you’d rather eat the entire bag of “diet” cookies. Triple the portions, should work fine. Good job.

· Madonna. Two reasons. One, bitch got creepy looking. Two, the term Madonna represents the faux singer, instead of what it’s supposed to mean.

· Child bikinis. I’ve been over this before. Let’s avoid tempting the pedophiles, shall we?

· Tourists. If you live in a tourist town, you hate tourists. And parades.

· Metrosexuals. Stop giving women the wrong expectations. Is that eyeliner?

· Cyclists who think that mankind’s laws supercede the laws of physics. Get. Out. Of. My. Way.

· The Dow Jones Industrial Average. How many of the people who watch the Dow daily actually know what’s in it? If you don’t, feel free not to complain about it to me.

· People who think they have me all figured out. It’s not a self-righteous “nobody can understand me” sentiment either. If you think you know me that well, you don’t know me at all.

· Handwriting. I haven’t used cursive since elementary school, what an incredible waste of my squandered youth.

· The designated hitter. I’m trying to avoid the sports references, but this is important. If the guy can throw the ball, he can swing the bat.

· Yacht Clubs. Do you have to check off “willing to be a dick” on the application?

· People with high self-esteem. You’re just too hard to take advantage of.

· People who think being comfortable with your body is an excuse for letting yourself go. A good personality doesn’t make you pretty, sorry.

· Homosexuals who are convinced that everybody else is in the closet. Go be gay, whatever Most of us don’t swing that way, but we’ll take care of the preservation of the species for you. Were you the kids who tried to hammer the square peg in the triangle hole?

· People who look for ways to be offended. Seriously? Not enough normal shitty in your life, just have to look for more?

Look, I’m not an angry bitter person consumed by the things I hate. But don’t do any of these things around me. I mean it.

Vodka

On this list of things that should never be, flavored vodka is on the first page. It’s pretty ridiculous. I mean, the whole point to vodka is that you can put it into anything and have a “vodka X” that’s delicious. That and your boss/wife/slave owner can’t smell it on your breath.

What’s the most common one, orange flavored vodka? You could do that, or put your regular vodka into orange juice. Sure could, it’s a brand new drink called a “screwdriver.” I wonder what kind of genius came up with that. And that goes for all the fruit flavors. If you can find a juice for the flavor, you can just add vodka and viola! It’s a miracle! No need to buy an extra bottle of weakened vodka! Raspberry! Strawberry! Myrtle Berry! Peach! Regret! (tastes like copper)

The only one that almost makes sense is vanilla, since most people don’t have vanilla beans lying around. Vanilla extract isn’t so bad, but you have to be really careful with that stuff. But you don’t really need a vanilla vodka, do you? You don’t want to drink an ice cream flavored alcohol, it’s pedophilic.

Look, vodka is the equalizer of liquors, so vaginafying it with flavors is morally repugnant. Whiskey is a male drink. Rum is a female drink. And don’t think I’m being sexist either, it’s more of a language thing. Think of how “table” is feminine in Spanish, it’s not a testament to any kind of real sexuality. But vodka (and to a lesser degree gin) are androgynous liquors, so removing them from our repertoire is unfair. We need our unifying spirits. I mean really, it’s not like us drunks ask for all that much.

I understand that people want weak drinks. It’s like the people who add coffee to their milk and sugar. It’s idiotic, but hey, at least you almost look like an adult. But there’s no reason to take my vodka away from me, we can already make sissy drinks out of it! This is an unnecessary and wasteful product, and I’m taking a moral stand against the whole “flavored liquor*” movement.

* I’m giving a pass to liqueurs, since that’s what they were made for.

Omnivores

I don’t like vegetarianism, or for the most part vegetarians. And I’m morally opposed to vegans. Let’s be serious here, there is nothing you can eat that doesn’t involve death. It’s the reprocessing of organic material. Nothing survives your gastric juices. Not carrots or dogs or hopes and dreams. Hell, if you swallow a penny it ain’t coming out pretty.

The way I figure, there are only a couple reasons not to eat meat. First is the idea that you don’t want to kill any animals because of some idiotic moral notion. The continuous breeding and slaughter of corn notwithstanding, shut the hell up. You may not hear your carrots screaming as your rip through their bodies, but everytime they get pulled from the earth they start to wither and die. What about sunflower seeds? You’re eating babies people! Babies! Think about that next time you judge my gratuitous cut of delicious cow.

And vegans, goddamn you. No animal products? Here’s what you get when you refuse to use dairy products: cows with sore udders. Congratulations for the extra suffering of an entire species! Generations of heifers are being turned into belts so you can feel better about your sad sickly body. On top of that you look like cancer patients and smell like cadavers. Great trade, I’m proud of you.

The only other reason I hear is that people don’t like to eat meat for “health reasons.” Health reasons! So you go on a ridiculous search for the proper mix of beans and weeds to poorly mimic complex proteins. Apparently it also damages your olfactory senses you methane producing herbivores. You go through all that wasted effort and I’ll go eat some bacon. Greasy, fatty, delicious swine. And I’m going to pretend that my bacon came from some prized family pet with puppy dog eyes and a name. Why? Because that way precious porky’s life ended with a purpose. If only we could all be so lucky.

This whole vegetarian/vegan lifestyle is an insult to the evolution of our species. Next time you go to the dentist ask them which of your teeth are designed for the tearing of flesh. Nice, juicy, bloody flesh of the innocent. Then go and find a stupid goat or something and have a nice game of compare and contrast. Have some self-respect people. “Omnivore” is a scientific definition, not a lifestyle choice.

Now some people may find my position a wee bit offensive, maybe a bit over the top. People get to make their own life decisions, and who am I to judge them? I’m not retarded, that’s who I am. I’m not going to lobby for the government to require sirloin quotas or anything. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t an idiot.

Chemistry

I recently watched a television show with the commentary of two lead actors and the producer/writer. I’m sure you’ve seen this option in special features for shows and movies. It’s where they show the film and the filmmakers talk about the story or tell anecdotes about production. It’s the classic special feature that studios throw in for viewers to ignore. And I rarely have the patience for them, but for some reason popped one in. I had just viewed the episode, and thought I’d listen to the commentary while doing some cleaning, just for background.

Something odd struck me. Odd, because it’s something I’ve heard a thousand times but never really considered. It’s the idea of chemistry. The actors were talking about how they had just clicked, even during the audition period and how important that was to the success of the show. We most often hear the term “chemistry” when dealing with romantic leads, but it really is much broader. The hero must have chemistry with the villain, supporting characters with each other, the production and editors, etc. Every relationship in some ways relies on chemistry, since it helps the flow of communication.

What struck me about people having “chemistry” is how rarely I experience it. There are certain people I have an easier air with, because we simply understand each other. But for the most part my relationships require a more conscious effort. I’m far from inept, but I’m not exactly a social butterfly either. I can communicate with just about anybody; it’s how I make my living. However, it is an effort on my part to make it happen.

I wonder what it would be like to be on a team with chemistry, such as those actors on the stage. A group of musicians jamming on stage or a team of athletes in motion may feel the same way. Or even a single personal relationship, where talking is almost unnecessary because you already know…

It’s hard to say what would happen, or if I could even pull off that kind of thing. Relationships work when you work at them. Actors at rehearsal, musicians and athletes when the practice, there is always work to be done. So whether that chemistry is natural or earned (my bet is both,) I’ll be it can be spectacular. I’m just not sure if it’s something for me.

I love pasta

1) It's really quick, just boil some water and drop it in.

2) If you're thinking that the topping is the hard part, stop thinking so much and just pour on some olive oil. If you want to get real fancy use garlic olive oil. Then find out what heaven would taste like.

3) If you have a date coming over for dinner and you're running late, and guys are always running late, just don't cook it all the way and say it's al dente. Y'know, just like the Italians do it. If she's letting you cook she's obviously dumb enough to believe you.

4) It's overly filling. I'm an American, I like to over-indulge, it's what we do best.

bon appetit

Can I hold your hand?

Do you ever think about touching? Physical contact is really an important part of human interaction. There are social, physical, and emotional aspects to contact. I wonder how often people actually consider the nature of touching, and how it affects their lives.

One of the reasons babies tend to be closer to their mothers, and adults as well I suppose, is because of the physical connection made during breastfeeding. Men in Arab nations often hold hands as a sign of friendship, with absolutely no sexual reference. Yet here in the States, holding hands has a much different connotation. Though even that’s not so simple, because spouses holding hands has a completely different meaning than a child holding their parent’s hand.

I suppose much of our physical contact is so ingrained in us from childhood that it’s hardly worth noting, though I believe you can learn a lot from people’s physical contact. You can get a sense of how close a couple is by how close they stand next to each other. Brushing someone’s hair over their ears is a pretty clear sign of comfort. When I’m talking about touching I’m really not referring to sexual contact, though that is obviously an important aspect. I don’t really want to delve into that issue because the ramifications are fairly obvious. I’m really more interested in the mental aspects of contact, and the connections we make.

I want you to try something with me. Take your thumb on your right hand and touch each of your fingertips in turn. One, two, three, four… one, two, three, four… one, two, three, four. What do you feel? The tips touching, right? Obvious. Thank you blogger for stating the obvious.

Now I want you to watch the top of your hand as you lower and raise each of your fingers in turn about ¾ of an inch. One, two, three, four… one, two, three, four… one, two, three, four. As you watch your fingers move, see the bones and ligaments moving under the skin. Can you feel as your veins move around the structure of your bones? I’ll bet you didn’t feel any of that motion in our first test, because you weren’t watching or thinking about it. And this is despite the fact that the actual motion is much smaller.

Our senses involve so much more than our conscious mind considers, and this is really by necessity. It’s like the email we’ve all received where a paragraph is written with no vowels, yet you can read the lines easily. We process and filter information at a much more complex level than we actively notice. Physical contact is very much the same; we process only what seems necessary. But that doesn’t mean that the things you aren’t focusing on aren’t happening, or that they don’t matter.

You should think about the contact you make with other people. Men in my culture don’t touch. Life long friends may shake hands, or at best hug each other with as little of their bodies touching as physically possible. The man hug is a hilariously awkward motion if you think about it. Yet two women will hold hands, or when sitting next to each other actually touch at the hips without any qualms. This type of touching is important in how we relate to each other, both in our natural development and emotional connection.

I’m not saying that I want to start holding people’s hands, because that’s far from what I mean. In fact, I’m not a big fan of touching other people. I’d rather have my personal space, because this is the social and personal sphere I’m comfortable with. If we’re sitting in a booth at a restaurant, do not move closer to me because of this conversation. But I do think the amount of touching people do is important. You can tell someone who was never held as a child, they interact with the world in a more distant way. These signs tell you a lot about a person.

There are lots of little things you can tell by physical signs. A person sitting with their legs crossed at the ankles is probably nervous. Don’t believe me? Pay attention to people sitting in a dentist’s chair next time you have an appointment. And they aren’t even touching anybody else.

If you’re a bolder man than I am, next time you are meeting a new girl go through the two tests we did earlier. And then take their hands by the fingertips to front knuckle (preferably with permission,) and look into their eyes while talking about how this is a far more intimate form of touching than a handshake. And this is despite having less than half of the actual physical contact. See how they react, ask if they agree, see if they hold your gaze (don’t stare creepily if you can.) Before you let go of their hands give their fingers a light squeeze, and see if they squeeze back. If they do, you’ve made a connection.

What does it mean? As likely as not nothing, but if they don’t respond it is a definite sign. Ever notice how a couple will hold hands and occasionally give a light squeeze, and the other person responds back. It’s almost a clutching, though momentary. An acceptance or ownership, if you will. It’s not something people do unless they have a more intimate connection. Don’t read too much into it, reading the physical signs is only part of an interaction. Cadence and tone are more important than words, but that doesn’t mean you can ignore what people are saying because you’re too involved with how they say it.

There are psychological studies about these things, as well as the whole pheromone levels and all that other nonsense. You’ll notice that I haven’t cited any of that info, nor will I clam to have actually researched any of this. Why not? Because it’s a frickin blog people, I don’t need to justify anything.

Regardless of my lack of evidence, I still find it to be an interesting thing to consider. What do you think?

Children

A questions has come up lately, Lord knows why, about how bad a parent I would be. I suppose I'm in that age group, and many people around me are contemplating that particular mistake. The reason doesn't really matter, but there appears to be a wide variety of opinions about me.

The first notion, which is my favorite, is that I should under no circumstances ever procreate and pollute the earth. I'm not sure if this is a gene issue, or the simple fact that I'll make a terrifically bad father. I'm really hoping for the latter, but perhaps it's a combination. Someone once told me that I should never have kids because I'd "kill them." Which seemed hyperbolic at the time, but was a valid opinion all the same. I'm not a particularly patient man, and I find all things "cute" annoying. I hate words like "potty," "binky," "barney," "dora," etc.. I talk to children in the same manner as I do adults (which may say more about adults than children.) And finally, kids are scared of me.

There is another contingent that wonder why I don't have children now, because I'd make a fantabulous parent. There really is very little logic to this point of view. I'm not scared of babies or lost on the geometry of a diaper. I'm not a fan of rug rats, but when push comes to shove I can certainly deal with them. But these people think I'd be wonderful, which is complete bull. Children in small doses are fine, you can have fun, but you don't want to wake up in the morning with them. I think most of the people who think I'd be a great parent believe that I'm who they want me to be, rather than who I am. Or make the mistake all women make when thinking about men, focus on potential.

The third group is probably the most accurate, because they don't think I'd make a great parent by any means, but with all the shite parents out there I'd be fine. This is a reasonable point of view, because at least I'd hold to some kind of discipline (read: yelling and beating without bruising.) I see kids carrying they parents by the collar, and it's pretty disgusting. I also never kicked my dog, so that's good training. So should I have kids? Probably not. But would it be the worst thing that can happen to mankind? Unlikely.

I like the first viewpoint, dislike the second, and agree with the third. Conclusion? Better not but whatever happens happens. I suppose my fear would be that of every parent, you'd try so hard not to make the mistakes your parents' did that you'd make plenty of your own.

This has to stop

The whole Twilight phenomena has got to calm down. The whole irrational fan thing was bad enough with Titanic, but this is a whole series of poorly written drivel. Tattoos, broken marriages, stalking...

Look, I'm fine with romance stories. I'll even go for vampires and werewolves, because while overdone they can be interesting. And heck, I'll even give you the pouty, whining, pathetic teenage heroine. I've met that girl, I've met several, though none of them looked like Kristen Stewart.

But I draw the line at glistening.

On the other hand...

On a somewhat related point, being unnecessarily hungover is not the best option either.

Floyd Reference.

Do you ever have the urge to drink yourself into a mild stupor, but hesitate because you have to work the next day? And then, against your better judgement and contrary to all feelings of right and wrong you give in, against your own will really, and don't have that extra drink? It's a crime against humanity!

And you sober people think there's something wrong with me? Seriously people, pay attention to the "comfortably" part of "comfortably numb."

Oh yesh

When you're sitting around with your feet on your desk reading a book after an uninspiring yet filling dinner, you have to examine your situation. You suck on your teeth, again thinking about the uninspiring dinner and mutter to yourself, "oh yes, that would be quite nice." That's when you grab a glass and some whiskey stones and pour a nice golden scotch to start your next chapter.

In the end, you have to think about your evening, and only one possible word should float in your head.

"Wunderbar"

I don't have my shit together

Well, no, that’s not an entirely true statement. To be fair, you need a basis of comparison to make that kind of call. Do I have my shit together better than you do? More than likely. For better or worse I am one of the more stable people I know. Can’t say if that’s a good thing about me or a poor commentary on the rest of ya’ll.

I’ve recently been told that more people should be like me, because I have my shit together. It got me thinking, because I’ve never really thought of myself as having it all together. Look, I’m never in a state of panic, or feel like my entire world is falling apart either. I just take life day by day and do what I do. I’m rarely overextended and can deliver on most of my promises. It’s certainly not because I’m some sort of amazing person either. More than anything it’s a testament to the fact that I rarely try all that hard to do anything. Lack of effort equals lack of disappointment.

After some ponderance I came to the conclusion that it makes more sense to say that I know how to handle my shit rather than that I have it together. But that may be semantics; I’m not exactly sure how other people define their “shit.” Nor do I understand why the slang for fecal matter represents someone’s “business” or “life.”

In the end I think the sentiment has little to do with how well my life is going or how I handle things, but everything to do with how I talk about my life. Or more accurately, how little I talk about my life. My problems are my problems, my successes are my successes, and my faults are not your fault. That’s a big one right there. The incessant whiny rabble that occupies the bulk of my listening day stems from the blame game.

People seem to want to share their problems with everyone they meet. I suppose they want us to understand what’s happened to them and realize that it really isn’t their fault. It’s a fairly logical way to go, and very occasionally it’s even correct. But the problem is that I just don’t care, and I mean at all. It goes both ways too, I don’t care what caused your problems, but I also don’t really care what causes mine. The reasons behind a problem have almost nothing to do with the solution. It may be person X’s fault, but I’m still the guy that has to fix it.

So maybe I have my fecal matter together, and maybe I don’t. Either way you’ll never really know, because it’s none of your business. And feel free to think your feces are none of mine business either.

Ball Busting Explained

I’m going to get into the ball busting part in a second here, because as we all know it’s a vitally important subject. But let’s set ourselves up with a couple ground rules, shall we? I’m talking about when men talk to other men. Not boys. Not males. Men. The teasing of children is a whole different type of communication that helps prepare them for the future and teaches them how to deal with the other asshole kids. I know you hate to hear it, but kids are mean little buggers. Also, while men will sometimes pick on women in jest, this can never be considered ball busting because of the presence of a vagina. Them’s the rules by category. Men = ball busting. Pre-pubescent = ball busting in training. Vagina = I don’t know the vaginal rules, give me a break.

There is a lot of confusion on ball busting, and there seems to be more now that non-manly men (poof or otherwise) are getting so much social support. Listen ladies, the way ya’ll communicate is vastly different from men, and frankly often completely incomprehensible. But before you give me a hard time about the ball busting phenomena let me just mention that the most brutally vindictive and vilest statements I have ever heard have all come from women. And generally about their own best friends. Explain that one.

Let’s dive in class. In male interaction teasing is a sign of friendship or companionability. It’s a shared game of give and take that keeps everyone on a reasonably level playing field. Swear words can become terms of endearment or even nicknames. When I called a friend a “poor bastard” at his wedding nobody felt insulted in any way. I was simply joining in the group mourning cycle that was to become the rest of his life.

Let me give you an example of a conversation starter. If I preface a verbal interaction by calling someone an ignorant-obese-oedipaling-child born out of wedlock, what kind of conversation are we likely to have? If you guessed an upbeat and companionable one, you win nothing. Because being right generally brings nothing but frustration. What you have to try and understand here is that an insult among friends is proof of said friendship. I couldn’t start a conversation with some random person or an enemy in this fashion; that would be completely inappropriate. But if we have a positive relationship we can talk to each other in this way with no consequences. It’s something that friends share with each other but not with other people. If you’re one of those poor saps that are obsessed with idiotic labels, you could refer to it as bonding.

That’s the general conversational context of ball busting. You may wonder about more specific comments that seem more precise and mean spirited. Let’s have a PG list:

· Fat

· Bald

· Stupid

· Ugly

· Poor

· Short

· Tall

· Weak

You may not like this list because it targets people’s insecurities. Well screw you insecure people. But don’t worry; I can also make fun of people for being:

· Smart

· Pretty

· Successful

· Lucky

· Spoiled

· Athletic

· Rich

It really doesn’t matter what the topic is, or whether you’re confident or not. A real man can embarrass you in any situation, and for any reason (or without a reason.) Hell, it doesn’t even have to be anything real. I was nicknamed crybaby (in Spanish) for a year because I bitched somebody out as a joke. Everyone knew it was a joke and that I wasn’t complaining, but the name stuck. Why? Because it pissed me off, that’s why. And touché, that’s what a good comeback is all about.

So if you do something stupid, your boys will make sure to make light of the situation. If you do something that you are really proud of, we’ll cut you back down to size. It balances out, strengths and weaknesses, all fair game. Arrogance is met by jeering. So is meekness. Wealth? Poverty? Jeers. Guys are consistent if nothing else. Expect jeering.

Admittedly there are a variety of consequences to this practice that you should keep in mind. When two men are overly polite to each other you can assume they don’t like each other. There are obvious exceptions when it is a father-in-law or a work superior. Though if booze is involved we all settle down to a level playing field. Also, this can occasionally get out of hand, and feelings will get hurt. Some people are better at ball busting than others, so the inequities can cause problems. It’s usually not a big deal, though those with mangina’s tend to complain about it. But you’re going to have to just get over it, because it will only make it worse to cry about it. You can add whining to the above list if you’d like.

Ball busting is a game, and as any guy can tell you we get competitive. And I mean about everything. This is a competitive sport like any other, maybe even more so than most. When a group of guys get together it’s a free for all, and we team up on one another. When a woman is involved we try to one up each other. And don’t even get started, we know that you aren’t impressed, that’s not the point. It’s far more important for me to tear the other guy down than it is to impress the gal. Seem silly and juvenile? So be it. As I said earlier, them’s the rules. I don’t make them, just live by them. And it’s entertaining. What else do you expect us to talk about? Us weekly and People magazine?

There are certainly rules of decorum and limitations on how far it is prudent to take the ball busting. I’m not going to get into specifics because it’s like urinal rules, if you aren’t born with them you can never understand.

I do hope that this sheds a little light on a highly misunderstood necessity of manly existence. I’m not trying to justify or convince, just telling you how it works. And ladies, if you think that the man in your life is nice and mild mannered because he’s matured beyond the juvenile games, think again. Age and maturity have nothing to do with it. They probably never fit in with the guys and never will. More often than not it’s their own damn fault. Enjoy watching Dancing with the Stars together.

For Crying Outloud.

You know what? I think that you should dress your age.

That's right, I'm sorry grandma, you may be foxy at the rest home but out in public the miniskirt is not helping your cause. I'm sure Patsy Cline had nothing on you in your day, but once upon a time and happily ever after it's not. Let me put it this way, kids who are 21 are too old to be shopping at forever 21. The hell you think you're doing?

These are not the types of things I want to see when I walk down the street anymore. So let's just stop. I'm just going to assume you're all in agreement.

For Pity's Sake...

Men don’t really listen to pop music, or at least they shouldn’t. Males certainly do, but not men. Let me stall your devil’s advocate game and clarify that I mean relatively modern pop music, let’s say the last twenty odd years. If you want to say that the Beatles were pop music because they are not easily confined to a genre I won’t argue the point (though I could.) But since we’re in a new decade let’s focus on the 90’s and 00’s. So again, let me restate: men don’t listen to pop music.

The whole idea of a pop music as a genre is pretty absurd, since all it ought to mean is that a certain song is “popular.” But that’s not really the case anymore, is it? Pop music is formulaic and popular, and has become it’s own classification. But why do women enjoy pop music and men don’t?

It could be because pop music appeals to the lowest common denominator, and men won’t sink to that level. But that really can’t be it, since men obviously enjoy the lowest common denominator. Think action movies or posters of scantily clad women posing on sports cars or absurd nude scenes in movies that are irrelevant to the plot. We love all that shit; bread and butter, mother’s milk, whatever you want to call it. For further evidence see the career success of Bay, Michael.

Well, maybe it’s because pop music is built around male icons that don’t appeal to us. You have the boy bands of the 90’s, and there were a ton of them. You took a step too far into a back alley and you were bound to find some crap “band” without any semblance of rhythm or harmony practicing their Bye Bye Bye repertoire. But that can’t be right either, can it? The Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera’s of the world had plenty of sex appeal. Their music must be centered on appealing to men, why else would they imitate strippers with low self-esteem? Right? Of course not, that would make far too much sense. We got to live through a whole “girl power” movement of hot pants and Pokémon haircuts. There is no way that would appeal to men. My generation watched MTV on mute.

It has to be the theme of the music then, it’s the only thing left. Pop music talks about love and relationships, the kind of issues that only affect people of the female persuasion. And as we all know, men hate all issues that relate to any semblence of emotion… Wait, I think Bob Dylan had a few hits that touched on emotional issues. So did Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Who, Pink Floyd…hell, Guns N Roses could be downright softies from time to time. Real men know how to listen to the Blues. Point being all genres touch on the same types of themes, so that really can’t be it either. Can we really say the song “I kissed a girl” alienates men thematically?

I really am at a loss here on the whole pop music thing. Who listens to this crap and why? Get a teenage girl who can sweat a libido on a music video, a songwriter who specializes in catchy tripe, and a digital voice coach and you have a hit single. As a society we make millionaires out of these people, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. It’s even expanded over the years where we have pop rap (Eminem,) pop rock (Daughtry) pop crap (Black Eyed Peas, sorry, didn’t know where else to put them,) pop blues/jazz (Alicia Keyes,) pop country (Dixie Chicks,) pop punk (Green Day,) and so on through the genres.

I have no doubt that many if not most of these people are talented. But I’m still not sure how they make careers out of jingles fit for little more than a radio ad campaign. And men don’t listen to this stuff, so it must be the rest of ya’ll who are. Which brings me to a simple conclusion. The race of men is failing, and is being replaced by metrosexuals who can tell you who is winning Dancing with the Stars.

And people wonder why I drink myself to sleep…

Back to the Beginning

There are a few storylines that I have abandoned over the years, one most recently that went on for quite some time. I’d like to say that there is a bunch of reader interest for me to finish, but that wouldn’t be true. I have had one person say that I should finish the story just to get to an ending. He’s talking about completing the story based on principle; to finish what you start.

I tend to agree with this sentiment, both in writing and other aspects of life. You finish for the sake of finishing, and you really don’t need any other reason. I’m held back here because I don’t like the story, where it’s gone or where it’s going. You don’t really control all the turns in a story, as they help develop themselves. And I’ve really gone too long to salvage what I started; so finishing would be an academic exercise. Perhaps I shouldn’t have shared it at all until I knew how it would end.

The truth is that this story has held me back from doing any writing at all. I don’t really want to start something new and admit to failure on the last one. Then again, I don’t have much interest in working on my current project either. If there was justice in a short and simple conclusion I’d definitely take it, but there are too many significant developments that need to be fleshed out. I doubt there is more shame in simple abandonment than in giving up while writing.

This situation has gotten me to think about the writing process, or at least how I tend to write. There are a myriad of methods that people use, feel free to check your local library if you’re curious. And people like to share their methods, some talented and others more like me. I can’t claim to have studied them all, because I really only understand four different ways to write. The first is the easiest, some people are inspired and the stories flow through them and all they try to do is get out of the way. Then there is a puzzle method, where you have the pieces and just need to find out how to put them together. Writing a mystery novel is probably just as mysterious as reading one. Some people treat their stories as sculptures, where the whole world of the story is set and you just have to chip away at the right pieces until the only thing left is what you want to say. And finally there are people who write with academic structure, putting together a story based on a formula.

I imagine most people use all of these variations to a degree, along with others that I don’t understand well enough to speak of here. Inspiration without structure can be anachronistic and incomprehensible. Academic structure without inspiration is a textbook. I’m probably mostly a mixture of the second two, I write by putting together a puzzle and chipping away until I have what I want. I don’t always have all the pieces (and I don’t try to,) and never know exactly where and why to chip away.

The problem I come across is that sometimes (usually) I chip away at the wrong parts, or I take away too much. Once that happens something is broken, whether a character, scene, or entire plotline. When it’s gone it’s gone, there’s not anything I can really do about it. I don’t mind losing a story when I simply can’t find all the pieces or figure out where they go because you can leave it alone and hope to figure it out later. But when you chip away and break something, then the story is ruined. I often wonder whether writing is worth it at all because no matter how well you do much is lost in the process of putting it down on paper.

I’m obviously not telling anybody how they should write, or what kind of method they should employ. I am at best sporadic and unsuccessful, because things come in waves and never turn out how they are supposed to. I really do wish that I was full of inspiration and just had to put the pen to paper. Some of those writers feel guilty because they can’t take credit for their stories, as they are simply the messengers. But I’m not one of those people, nor will I ever be. Gifts of that sort are not broadly given, and I think they come at a great cost.

In the end I’m still not sure if I’ll go back to past stories or not, or whether I should. Maybe I’ll finish for the sake of finishing, or I may just let them sit and simmer. There is time enough for idle hobbles. I just wish that I had a different way to approach writing, because I’d like to be good. But this is the way that I can write, and sometimes it means that I can’t. But you just have to go your own way and hope for the best, there’s not much else to do.