Blogging, Cataloging, and Collecting

May 27, 2008

I hadn’t blogged in a while…  Hadn’t felt the need to I guess…  Not that it’s really significant, but I start to wonder why I haven’t felt the need to…  And then, the postulate (or counter-inference or some such geometry nonsense) is essentially: Why do you blog?

I’ve gone into this before.  Really, I blog for two reasons.  One to collect my humorous thoughts for the 3-4 friends who visit the blog, and secondly to act as a sort of diary that I can review in future years to sort of mark my path and remind myself where I was mentally on that particular date.

I enjoy cataloguing, but I rarely find that I want to devote my time to it.  Or, more specifically, I like cataloguing when other options of entertainment are missing.  I find that cataloging the movies that I’ve watched or the graphic novels that I own becomes less interesting when I can play Puzzle Quest or it’s a playoff hockey game between the Flyers and Penguins. 

I always have this sense, like that when things are orderly, that it will look “right”.  That if you took all of the books, put them in order by series and author, and placed them on a bookcase, would just look right, would fit into place, and be this glowing shining achievement. 

But it’s a fallacy. 

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Latest Routine

September 25, 2007

I’ve always had an inert desire to be a stand-up comedian.  The idea of being able to make a large number of people laugh really appeals to me.  I could never really be one.  I think pretty good on my feet, but not good enough.  My perspective is not unique enough (if at all).  And I’d probably try to turn myself into a Bill Hicks like preacher/philosopher before I actually had an audience. 

So every once in a while, I come up with a small bit, that if I were a stand-up comedian (like, if I were a samoan attorney) I would use.

It’s very weird to be inside the problem, rather than ranting outside of it.  Take for instance, kids these days.  I’m a new father, and it’s amazing the safety precautions and overprotection there is for these kids. 

There’s sippy cups that don’t spill, pressure gates so they don’t tumble down the stairs, latches and lights inside car trunks so they don’t die in there.  I mean where are the cautionary tales from our youth.  The neo-myths that cautioned us against certain behavior. The evils of combining coke and Pop Rocks. The cautionary tale of the kid who took the big wheel down a steep hill and split his head open. And of course the story of Ralphie and the Red Rider.

The only thing worse out there is the food.  We buy our son, one of those 100% juice brands.  Strawberry Bannana and Berry and such.  So I’m trying to teach him to drink out of a glass, and he wasn’t interested that day.  So I decided to not waste the juice, and drink it myself.

I mean, logical conclusion to the following condidions, right?  I like juice.  I have leftover juice.  I’m thirsty. 

I nearly spit the stuff out all over my son.  This was the nastiest stuff I’ve drank without a dare or a promise that it will make me feel really good. 

Turns out, I don’t like juice.  Nope.  I’ve been living a lie.  All of the juice that I’ve been drinking all of these years is just sugar water, with some juice thrown in.  When I was young, 10% of the daily allowance of Vitamin C was good enough.  Today, it has to be 100 percent juice, no sugar, no additives.  Cause SUGAR IS BAD.

I asked my niece if she wanted to try some Cherry Coke the other day, as she told me that she liked Cherry Coke candy.  She shrugged her shoulders, but her mother had a look of utter horror on her face. 

NOT THE SUGAR!!!!!!!!!  HOW DARE YOU!!!!!!!!

We always go to far in this country.  It’s so ridiculous. 

I have a theory though.  And that is that the scientists of the United States spend the next 10 years investigating the causes of Autism.  And they discover that its not the mercury in vaccinations, or pollution in the air, or nuclear waste being dumped into our rivers that causes autism.

It’s the lack of sugar in our diet.  It is sugar that increases the connections in the brain, opens brain waves, and increases our observation skills. 

That’d be justice right?

(Actually, now that it’s done, sounds more like a Dave Barry piece… Oh well…)

Chaos Wave

July 23, 2007

Not sure this will make any sense… it’s not intended to…. Nor is it any sort of cry for help or portent for things to come… Just general feeling/state-of-mind/current perception.

Chaos… I really don’t know if other people’s brains go chaotic like mine does. It’s nothing that is bad, really. Just a temporary state of mind. The left side of the brain repeating a familiar song over-and-over, while the right side of the brain is able to perform basic functions. But the alignment of both sides towards a task cannot easily take place. Usually brought on by a sense of malaise, lack of sleep, and general low-level stressors.

It’s interesting. It’s like feeling drunk or high when you are perfectly straight and sober. The sides of the eyes are slightly fuzzy. You can concentrate on the minute details, but the overall picture remains out of reach. It’s zoning, but being aware of the zone.

But, there is no pleasure of the experience, like being drunk. There is no pain of the experience, like a complete lack of sleep or another dazed like condition.

And you get lost. Or can get lost. I can feel the way to totally lose oneself in the chaos and wonder what that would be like. To concentrate on the “losing one’s self” brings on fear or as philosophers refer to as Nasuea, and that fear ‘wakes’ me up from the zone. But while in the zone, there is no fear, because no action is required.

I am now on the outskirts of the chaos. The chaos tide laps against the corners of my mind, reminding me of it, but I am too aware of it to fully experience it. Writing about it, has made my head clearer, almost automatically. I am in the state where you actively try to completely clear your mind of thoughts, even clearing your mind of the thoughts that entail clearing your mind. (In other words, if your thoughts are simply that of the words/idea of “Clear Your Thoughts”, then your mind may be empty of your daily stressors, the things that you need to do later that evening, your desires, and your fears, but your mind is rarely ’empty’.)

For me, the chaos is most interesting and scary during the light sleep, where you are aware that you are lying in bed trying to sleep, yet your mind is working in multiple directions, focusing on the unfocusable. I have woken, lying in bed, hearing the voices of a dream that is completely unclear to me. The movie is playing in my head, but it is in a foreign language, spliced full of images and ideas that do not connect, and the soundtrack is repeating in an endless loop.

Mostly awake now. Reminiscent of the chaos. But am out of it, where I am ‘rubbing my eyes’ having just woken up from too long of sleep. I am still sleepy, but sleep would not be the answer at this point.

Okay, now I’ve moved. Went to the bathroom (more info than you wanted I’m sure), got a coke, and some chocolately cakey goodness. And the chaos is gone. Now, I’m just tired and slightly absentminded. Typical monday behavior.

Not sure the purpose, other than capturing a feeling or a moment.

Anyway, let me go gland something else.


Instruments of Graphity

December 19, 2005

Last Friday, I went to Staples to purchase blank CDs to burn music for my niece, Katie. Now, I just love office supplies, well specifically pens, pencils, stationary… calculators and tape dispensers do rather little for me.

So, as I’m wandering in Staples, I see a two pack of mechanical pencils. Specifically the Zebra M-301, 0.5 mechanical pencil. It is really slim, and so far seems to be of a decent weight. The wrong weight makes me break off lead w/ mechanical pencils.

I buy the pencils (and sone pens), and it just feels good in my hand. Not perfect. It’s Das Uber Pencil. It’s just nice. As it is light, it makes my hand compensate. Almost bringing it up to its level, rather than pressing down on as I am wont to do.

Sometimes, that’s all it takes. A different look. A different feel. A new approach? Can you force symbolism upon your self? Can you actively make something into an omen.

I’m not trying to turn all Bene Geserit now. More of a basic observation.

Our moods and thoughts are influenced by our environment. But this is, for the most part, passive reaction. My words come out differently when I physcially write them down rather than when I type them. This is pure mechanics. I can type much faster than I write. So typing creates a faster stream of consciousness.

So, by interjecting a new instrument into my environment, can I subtly change my ouput. Or does the fact that I’m actively attempting this ruin any sense of a new variable into my own personal experiment.

So anyway, this entry was first written on a spiral bound, college ruled, notebook with a mechanical pencil that uses 0.5 graphite. Actually, this particular passage was written on the back pags as my hand bumps against the metal spiral.

A quick diversion of mind and hand, as I wait for a developer to get back (or possibly arrive) at his cube.

I promise (on paper, we’ll see if I leave this in) to only change spelling and perhaps grammar (if an intended adverb would be better suited as an adjective, because I changed my mind in mid-sentence).

As I said, stream of consciousness, but also permanency. Without getting all William Burroughs on the situation, the words are oni the paper. Editing is much more difficult, and has greater destructive consequences. (We all have had eraser accidents in our lives).

Anyway, reaching the end of the back page. Another limitation of the paper form. But enhances brevity. But I should leave room, and end it here. Have fun transcribing, ya poseur-slacker!

Not that anyone but me is listening…

February 11, 2005

Every so often, I remind myself of Live Journal. I’ve told myself that this is to be my journal. My epitath to the world. The thing I can revisit, and see where I was at that time, etc. etc. etc.

I wish I had the time to join lots of communities, and post my opinions about how bad the Constantine movie is going to suck. Or what my opinion about the Steriod scandal in baseball…

It’d be fun. I’d enjoy it. And maybe I should. Maybe I should spend my evenings instead of hanging out with my wife on the couch watching 24 or some home decorating show. There is an appeal.

Back in college, I would have loved this. God, I would have posted every singe f-ing day. I wouldn’t even have been concerned with whether the ‘girls’ posting models shots of their naked breasts were really girls or actually guys. I would have just enjoyed the community. I would have enjoyed spouting off about the current state of X-Men, professional wrestling, the death of the american comedy scene since the death of Bill Hicks and the like.

Quick side story. Most of my favorite college memories come from a play I did in my last year of college. It was one of those situations where everything fell right for me. And it never does that. Things had been going well, in general for me that year. So I was able to get the lead in the play, Inherit the Wind. I also got to co-star (or act with or what have you) with a very dear friend of mine, Anja. Anja was really really pretty. I honestly wasn’t that interested in her. Not that I would have refused it if it was offered to me. She was a nice girl, a sweet girl. Generally didn’t seem interested in me. And I didn’t feel the need to push it, in order to have the fact proven to me. I liked her. I liked looking at her. I left it at that, best of both worlds.

Anyway, this isn’t really about her. We started to get towards the show dates, with costumes and makeup and the whole works. And it became apparent that there was only one dressing room for the entire cast. Guys and girls, one dressing room.

Now, of course, no one HAD to change in the dressing room. There wasn’t any pressure to do so. There wasn’t any need to do so. And to a degree, I assumed with the general modesty of most girls, they would choose to change in the women’s bathroom right outside. And that most of the guys, wouldn’t care.

I mean we really know that guys are not instilled with any sense of modesty whatsoever. The fattest shmoe. The guy who honestly is really small in the genital area. The guy with a really hairy back. All of them will get naked, for pretty much no reason at all. Usually it has to involve one of the following: alcohol, a dare, female interest (this is hetero guys), convenience, or a combination. If I have to change my clothes, including changing my underwear, in the middle of a parking lot, and the decision to do so is reasonable and would be accepted by most people, I’d do it.

And I’m not turning heads in a mall.

Well, the truth is that the girls in the cast, almost all of which were at least kindof cute, were willing to change in the dressing room. Obviously just down to bra and panties. Wasn’t quite that bohemian. And these werent’ girls looking to show off. Some were freshmen, some were shy, some were outgoing and had the rack to show off. But it was just cool.

I had a lot of makeup to put on, so I was always there early. And I would be delightfully torn. The intellectual side of me would just be. “Wow, isn’t this so cool. We are so adult. The situation is that there’s only one dressing room. And we as mature adults are able to change in here, and it’s not a problem. So cool. No one’s making a big deal about it. No guys are cracking jokes about it or drooling or trying for something else.” It honestly gave and gives me a warm feeling to this day, just simply the feeling of maturity and community that I felt.

And of course the other half of my brain was like. “WOW. Look at all the girls in the undies. I’m gonna be enjoying this memory for years to come. Cute little boobs. Big ones. All the colors of the rainbow in underwear (that’s actually not true, my memory is that practically everyone wore white or ivory, but…..)

And I can look back at both memories and not be ashamed. It’s cool. If you deny the sexual and naughtiness of the situation, you lose something. But if you don’t realize that it was still cool, and a nice community feeling at the same time, you lose something as well.

I really don’t know why I’m telling this story today. Sorta just came up and I ran with it. But what have you.

Anyway, I’ve woken up from my stream of consciousness mode. A shame. A reminder that I should be doing some work.

C’est la vie.

And love to all in that dressing room, wherever you are.