The pineapple is a very big berry.So sayeth the Snapple cap. So say we all!
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
Sunday, July 05, 2009
The Out-Side
"Legend tells of a realm known as the "Out-Side", a vast open space where a fearsome burning orb hangs overhead, casting a harsh light over the land. Some say that to venture Out-Side is like unto death, as many have forever forsaken their blogs and messageboards and parents' basements once they have tasted of this strange and eldritch plane. Still others claim that the mystical "Life" may be found in the Out-Side, and that endless adventure and fantastic experiences await those brave, or foolhardy, enough to abandon their keyboards and pass through the portal of Frontdoor." - oball on OotS boards-- Signature of bubba0077, seen here.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Truer Words Ne'er Were Spoke
Over at Boing Boing Gadgets, Steven Leckart posted his enthusiastic first impressions regarding the recently released iPhone 3G S. This happens to be Mr. Leckart's first iPhone and he's been looking forward to it for some time. The first commenter had this to say:
It's awesome that you own up to being an irrational fanboy. You are a beacon of insanity in a far too sane world and I love you for it.
Sadly for you, I am not a nubile young starlet.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Sometimes, Some Ways
Sometimes I wish I'd made this blog (more) private and/or anonymous. One of the reasons posts have been so infrequent is that I can't write about the things that matter most to me. I cannot describe the things that are happening, the thoughts flitting through my mind, the fears and hopes and anxiety and happiness and sadness.
In some ways this is a good thing. One of the reasons not to draft such posts is that I know they can (and most likely will) come back to bite me. In these days of ubiquitous internet access and search engine savvy, less is more. Presence, yes, but tempered with self consciousness and self control. The younger netizens will and are learning this lesson, but too often only after it is injurious. Sometimes I like to think I know better.
In some ways this is a bad thing. No ranting and raving. No fists raised against the sky, shouting in the storm amidst the tempest. No solicitations or sharing. Just silence punctuated by the occasional sigh with no further explanation or context. There is a distinct absence of truth and soul and that I truly regret.
In some ways this is frustrating. Frustration on top of frustration. If I cannot write about that which is of primary importance to me, most other words seem pale and wan in comparison. Better to say nothing than something feeble and half-hearted?
Sometimes, someways, somewhere, somewhen.
In some ways this is a good thing. One of the reasons not to draft such posts is that I know they can (and most likely will) come back to bite me. In these days of ubiquitous internet access and search engine savvy, less is more. Presence, yes, but tempered with self consciousness and self control. The younger netizens will and are learning this lesson, but too often only after it is injurious. Sometimes I like to think I know better.
In some ways this is a bad thing. No ranting and raving. No fists raised against the sky, shouting in the storm amidst the tempest. No solicitations or sharing. Just silence punctuated by the occasional sigh with no further explanation or context. There is a distinct absence of truth and soul and that I truly regret.
In some ways this is frustrating. Frustration on top of frustration. If I cannot write about that which is of primary importance to me, most other words seem pale and wan in comparison. Better to say nothing than something feeble and half-hearted?
Sometimes, someways, somewhere, somewhen.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Tidings For An Addled Time
It's been rough the past few months. January was good, but it's been downhill ever since. I've been fairly angsty of late. Where am I going? What will I do? How will I get there? (Not that I know where "there" is, of course.) How does one measure "success"? Time progresses and I do not.
Work suffers, WoW playing increases. About a month ago I took stock of my finances. Since then I've attempted to curtail expenses, though Memorial Day sales enticed me to pick up more clothes and, thus, my expenses haven't significantly diminished.
I sit at my computer and--
I'm not sure what to do, how to kick start the inevitable upswing. I measure my current status by my work barometer. This has strong correlations to income and perceived job security. Income to pay off accruing debt. Job security for a job I am unconvinced I want to retain. Circles and circles, but circles don't lead to new patterns. I'm still waiting for a light bulb of inspiration.
It's probably not so dark and dismal a painting, but too often it can feel that way, painted in shades of fear and uncertainty. Probably why diversion is such a central tenet for me. Movies, music, books, graphic novels, computer games and board games.
I know I will break free from this, I just don't know when or where. Not right now, not today, not here. (But soon?)
Work suffers, WoW playing increases. About a month ago I took stock of my finances. Since then I've attempted to curtail expenses, though Memorial Day sales enticed me to pick up more clothes and, thus, my expenses haven't significantly diminished.
I sit at my computer and--
I'm not sure what to do, how to kick start the inevitable upswing. I measure my current status by my work barometer. This has strong correlations to income and perceived job security. Income to pay off accruing debt. Job security for a job I am unconvinced I want to retain. Circles and circles, but circles don't lead to new patterns. I'm still waiting for a light bulb of inspiration.
It's probably not so dark and dismal a painting, but too often it can feel that way, painted in shades of fear and uncertainty. Probably why diversion is such a central tenet for me. Movies, music, books, graphic novels, computer games and board games.
I know I will break free from this, I just don't know when or where. Not right now, not today, not here. (But soon?)
Friday, February 20, 2009
Eureka!
I had an epiphany today. I figured out what I want to do. I want to be a comic editor.
One of my morning reads linked to this post over at Kung Fu Monkey. From there, I perused its predecessor. Later on, I found this article elsewhere.
I love comics and graphic novels and, without having to serve as a pivotal basis of original content generation (e.g., the literal art or story), it seems like a comic editor fits an interesting role. Part management, part creator, part overseer.
I also feel like some of the skills I've learned from my past 3 years as a patent agent could come to bear. Often times I need to coordinate with inventors in order to discuss their thoughts on my interpretation of their work. There's quite a bit of organization and juggling required, not to mention deadlines and the like. Plus a fair amount of writing, editing and reviewing. I'm not sure yet what the pitch will sound like but I think I could make it work.
It intrigues me. I'll have to look into it more, learn what I can, see what I see. For the moment, it's an idea, a possible direction, something to explore. So we shall see.
One of my morning reads linked to this post over at Kung Fu Monkey. From there, I perused its predecessor. Later on, I found this article elsewhere.
I love comics and graphic novels and, without having to serve as a pivotal basis of original content generation (e.g., the literal art or story), it seems like a comic editor fits an interesting role. Part management, part creator, part overseer.
I also feel like some of the skills I've learned from my past 3 years as a patent agent could come to bear. Often times I need to coordinate with inventors in order to discuss their thoughts on my interpretation of their work. There's quite a bit of organization and juggling required, not to mention deadlines and the like. Plus a fair amount of writing, editing and reviewing. I'm not sure yet what the pitch will sound like but I think I could make it work.
It intrigues me. I'll have to look into it more, learn what I can, see what I see. For the moment, it's an idea, a possible direction, something to explore. So we shall see.
Sunday, February 08, 2009
Stories
Stories bring things to life. My favorite purchases, my favorite pictures, my favorite memories - all are intertwined with a story.
I went to NY Comic Con yesterday with a friend/co-worker. I purchased quite a few things including: an original sketch by Ben Templesmith (sketch is of Medusa from Wormwood and, I believe, was a random sketch not used for anything in particular), also some signed comics from Mr. Templesmith (he drew a heart on each cover - kind of neat to see a little personalization with the signature), a limited edition signed print from Greg Horn (it's the '09 NY Comic Con Lithograph of Phoenix, limited to 100 pcs), and a limited edition set of Dawn prints by Joseph Michael Linsner (Dawn and the seven deadly sins, celebrating 20 years of Dawn, limited to 2000 sets, Linsner signed each of the eights prints for me).
I love the art that I bought, truly, but I was also purchasing stories. This is art that, in an ideal world, will eventually be framed and hanging on my walls. And each of these pieces will have a little story to go with it about how I met the artist. Oh the stories aren't very moving or even interesting, but I met them. I saw them sign them. I was there. And these are the evidence, the centerpieces.
It's a concept Hugh MacLeod is fond of espousing - marketing as story-telling. If you make your product the centerpiece of an experience, something upon which the purchaser can build a story and relation, then you have achieved good marketing and you should prosper. Sell the story and the rest will follow.
Or something like that. (I am hardly a marketing guru like Hugh or Seth Godin. I just admire them from afar.) But I know of the concept, I recognize it as valid, and I believe in its power. I know it to be true. And so it is for these purchases.
Twenty or thirty years from now, when I am far removed from this place and time, there is an excellent chance that I will have that original Templesmith sketch on the wall and I will look at it with fondness. Someone standing next to me may turn and ask what it is. And I, in turn, will briefly relate how I met the artist at a comic convention in NYC oh so many moons ago and how pleasant he seemed to be. He's from Australia and he draws incredibly weird things. Tentacles and worms and mad hatters and vampires and, as the picture shows, a stripper named Medusa who guards a rift/portal/thing using tattoo snakes that she controls. Templesmith.
I went to NY Comic Con yesterday with a friend/co-worker. I purchased quite a few things including: an original sketch by Ben Templesmith (sketch is of Medusa from Wormwood and, I believe, was a random sketch not used for anything in particular), also some signed comics from Mr. Templesmith (he drew a heart on each cover - kind of neat to see a little personalization with the signature), a limited edition signed print from Greg Horn (it's the '09 NY Comic Con Lithograph of Phoenix, limited to 100 pcs), and a limited edition set of Dawn prints by Joseph Michael Linsner (Dawn and the seven deadly sins, celebrating 20 years of Dawn, limited to 2000 sets, Linsner signed each of the eights prints for me).
I love the art that I bought, truly, but I was also purchasing stories. This is art that, in an ideal world, will eventually be framed and hanging on my walls. And each of these pieces will have a little story to go with it about how I met the artist. Oh the stories aren't very moving or even interesting, but I met them. I saw them sign them. I was there. And these are the evidence, the centerpieces.
It's a concept Hugh MacLeod is fond of espousing - marketing as story-telling. If you make your product the centerpiece of an experience, something upon which the purchaser can build a story and relation, then you have achieved good marketing and you should prosper. Sell the story and the rest will follow.
Or something like that. (I am hardly a marketing guru like Hugh or Seth Godin. I just admire them from afar.) But I know of the concept, I recognize it as valid, and I believe in its power. I know it to be true. And so it is for these purchases.
Twenty or thirty years from now, when I am far removed from this place and time, there is an excellent chance that I will have that original Templesmith sketch on the wall and I will look at it with fondness. Someone standing next to me may turn and ask what it is. And I, in turn, will briefly relate how I met the artist at a comic convention in NYC oh so many moons ago and how pleasant he seemed to be. He's from Australia and he draws incredibly weird things. Tentacles and worms and mad hatters and vampires and, as the picture shows, a stripper named Medusa who guards a rift/portal/thing using tattoo snakes that she controls. Templesmith.
Monday, February 02, 2009
Logic & Illogic
So much of my life is ruled by logic. Income and expenses. The clock. A+B=C. Most events are assumed to prescribe by this ill-conceived notion of cause-effect, sequence and consequence, before and after. It is when events fail to abide by these concepts that we decry the lack of logic.
I like to think that I inject a certain amount of illogic into my life and the lives of those around me. While I generally subscribe to logical notions like cause-effect, I also believe in chaos and its unceasing swirl of illogic. Sometimes there is no explanation, no reason, no rationale for rational explanation. Sometimes there just is.
I am often prone to irony if not sarcasm. What better way is there to mock logic? If the fated, logical answer is A, what more can one do than pointedly, and sarcastically, announce not-A? It is with this attitude that I often approach things. If something is clearly difficult or onerous, you are wont to hear me quip: "I'm sure that will be fun." If there is a best move or answer and I think it obvious, I will likely advocate another, incorrect option.
Sarcasm is proverbially said to be the lowest form of wit. I disagree. While perhaps not the highest (said tier being reserved for knock-knock jokes involving fruit), sarcasm certainly can be wielded as an art form whose usage decries even its own existence with a singular retort.
But I digress. I am a slave and a supplicant to the logical fallacies of this world, and yet I bask in the chaos and illogic that infuses us all. For example, I absolutely adore the underpinnings of chaos theory, wherein a deterministic system devolves into chaos.
I swear this post had more cohesion before I was waylaid by contemplations of the meaning of sarcasm and irony. And now? Now it is a half-formed jumble of incoherency. I would attempt to revive its direction only now my head is directionless and I am clueless. (Tends to happen as the day goes on.) Notwithstanding this failure, it is posted in the vain hope that there yet remains some hint of truth amidst the chaos.
Perhaps that is the tale -- amidst the chaos there may yet remain a nugget of truth and definition and order. Or perhaps the world is lost at a sea of chaos, much as this post is lost to inane ramblings and half-formed conceptions. Does the indeterminacy of it yet drive like a needle through your mind?
I like to think that I inject a certain amount of illogic into my life and the lives of those around me. While I generally subscribe to logical notions like cause-effect, I also believe in chaos and its unceasing swirl of illogic. Sometimes there is no explanation, no reason, no rationale for rational explanation. Sometimes there just is.
I am often prone to irony if not sarcasm. What better way is there to mock logic? If the fated, logical answer is A, what more can one do than pointedly, and sarcastically, announce not-A? It is with this attitude that I often approach things. If something is clearly difficult or onerous, you are wont to hear me quip: "I'm sure that will be fun." If there is a best move or answer and I think it obvious, I will likely advocate another, incorrect option.
Sarcasm is proverbially said to be the lowest form of wit. I disagree. While perhaps not the highest (said tier being reserved for knock-knock jokes involving fruit), sarcasm certainly can be wielded as an art form whose usage decries even its own existence with a singular retort.
But I digress. I am a slave and a supplicant to the logical fallacies of this world, and yet I bask in the chaos and illogic that infuses us all. For example, I absolutely adore the underpinnings of chaos theory, wherein a deterministic system devolves into chaos.
I swear this post had more cohesion before I was waylaid by contemplations of the meaning of sarcasm and irony. And now? Now it is a half-formed jumble of incoherency. I would attempt to revive its direction only now my head is directionless and I am clueless. (Tends to happen as the day goes on.) Notwithstanding this failure, it is posted in the vain hope that there yet remains some hint of truth amidst the chaos.
Perhaps that is the tale -- amidst the chaos there may yet remain a nugget of truth and definition and order. Or perhaps the world is lost at a sea of chaos, much as this post is lost to inane ramblings and half-formed conceptions. Does the indeterminacy of it yet drive like a needle through your mind?
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Down The Rabbit Hole -- Rabbit Hole Day '08
(From Boing Boing.)
My rabbit hole was a cold Thursday in January. It began like any other with my arrival at the office. Despite the Styrofoam coffee cup in my hand, I was half-asleep, trudging through my morning ritual on autopilot. Even sitting at my desk, loading up my morning websites and checking e-mail accounts, my eyelids sunk lower and lower, hindering my meager efforts.
Sitting there, eyes closed and brain stalled, I heard the sound of slithering, a rough surface rubbing against carpet in a rhythmic pattern. At first I dismissed the noise as a byproduct of my latent consciousness, but the volume steadily increased. At some point the peculiarity of the swishing seeped into my head and my eyes flew open. It sounded as if something large in the hall was approaching the door to my office.
Silently turning my head towards the doorway, nothing appeared out of place. The sound continued to grow, approaching din-like proportions, until a man-sized figure came into view. The.. thing sported the head of a fish hunched over a man-shaped body covered in glistening, gray-blue scales, each about an inch wide. Its lower jaw protruded below a maw of black, a row of fangs readily apparent. Its "hands" and "feet" were webbed masses with little differentiation between fingers or toes. The creature dragged a tail behind it, leaving a dark, wet stain on the mottled carpet.
I froze, afraid to move lest I attract its attention or incite it to anger. As it slowly trudged past the doorway, I could hear melodic overtones like faint bells sounding at random, barely audible over the friction of its tail. The man-fish continued moving to my left out of sight, the slithering noise slowly diminishing until it became the merest hint of an echo.
Blinking my eyes, my mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Looking at the floor, I could barely discern a smear of damp, darkened carpet running past the doorway. My brain churned with the half-remembrance of my vision. Even as I struggled to preserve the clarity of the image, he slipped from my grasp. In the end, all that remained was a half-formed, hazy image of a hunched-over figure.
To this day, I am unsure what transpired that morning. Whenever I glance at the brown-gray carpet of the hall, I see a faint trail along its path. Sometimes I sit in my office staring out the doorway, listening in my mind to the rhythmic swish-swish and soft tubular bells. I hope to see him again someday. And I hope that when I do see him, when next he passes my threshold, I have the courage to say "Hello."
(Edit: Happy Birthday Lewis Carrol!)
My rabbit hole was a cold Thursday in January. It began like any other with my arrival at the office. Despite the Styrofoam coffee cup in my hand, I was half-asleep, trudging through my morning ritual on autopilot. Even sitting at my desk, loading up my morning websites and checking e-mail accounts, my eyelids sunk lower and lower, hindering my meager efforts.
Sitting there, eyes closed and brain stalled, I heard the sound of slithering, a rough surface rubbing against carpet in a rhythmic pattern. At first I dismissed the noise as a byproduct of my latent consciousness, but the volume steadily increased. At some point the peculiarity of the swishing seeped into my head and my eyes flew open. It sounded as if something large in the hall was approaching the door to my office.
Silently turning my head towards the doorway, nothing appeared out of place. The sound continued to grow, approaching din-like proportions, until a man-sized figure came into view. The.. thing sported the head of a fish hunched over a man-shaped body covered in glistening, gray-blue scales, each about an inch wide. Its lower jaw protruded below a maw of black, a row of fangs readily apparent. Its "hands" and "feet" were webbed masses with little differentiation between fingers or toes. The creature dragged a tail behind it, leaving a dark, wet stain on the mottled carpet.
I froze, afraid to move lest I attract its attention or incite it to anger. As it slowly trudged past the doorway, I could hear melodic overtones like faint bells sounding at random, barely audible over the friction of its tail. The man-fish continued moving to my left out of sight, the slithering noise slowly diminishing until it became the merest hint of an echo.
Blinking my eyes, my mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Looking at the floor, I could barely discern a smear of damp, darkened carpet running past the doorway. My brain churned with the half-remembrance of my vision. Even as I struggled to preserve the clarity of the image, he slipped from my grasp. In the end, all that remained was a half-formed, hazy image of a hunched-over figure.
To this day, I am unsure what transpired that morning. Whenever I glance at the brown-gray carpet of the hall, I see a faint trail along its path. Sometimes I sit in my office staring out the doorway, listening in my mind to the rhythmic swish-swish and soft tubular bells. I hope to see him again someday. And I hope that when I do see him, when next he passes my threshold, I have the courage to say "Hello."
(Edit: Happy Birthday Lewis Carrol!)
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
"Immanentizing the Eschaton"
The phrase is from "Doktor Sleepless," one of Warren Ellis' current projects. Excellent book so far (I'm not finished with volume 1 yet). According to issue 4, "immantentizing the eschaton" means bringing on the end of everything, i.e., inciting the eschaton. Do not mess with Warren Ellis. He is King of the Internet.
A friend of mine commented on my lack of posting and, though I don't have quite enough time to give this post the attention it deserves, I thought it high time I put something up in place of that outdated Amsterdam one.
Work is... unsettling right now. A week ago Monday, they let someone go. Oh it was one of the "new" people (hired about six months ago) and it wasn't unexpected (one of our big clients drastically scaled back their work at the beginning of December), but it's a little off-putting. Yesterday, another of the new people resigned. The e-mail states that he wanted to go back to school, get a Ph.D., pursue a career in academia. Both of the aforementioned new people were unexperienced. Another of the new people, this one being experienced in the field, was told last week that he needs to "become profitable" within a month or he's gone. As for the rest of us here at work, the quantity of work is drying up a bit. None of us are overloaded, as we all were a year ago.
As for me, I don't think I'm in danger of losing my job. Do I want to lose my job? That's the real question. I know I want a new, different job, but I also want to weather the declining economy. I want to survive and, in this case, that means keeping my job until I get a new one.
Last night, I bought an iPhone. Yay. I am tempted to use it to begin Twittering. We shall see if that comes to pass.
While I was at the mall last night, it hit me – the downturn in the economy is making the world a scary place. Oh I've always been pretty insulated from the bad things(TM), but now the recession is making it real. The mall is already a pale shadow of its former self. More stores are closing all the time and the mall is becoming a hollow shell filled with empty stores and hanger-ons. It's starting to become real now and it's scary.
Home, car, family, dog, World of Warcraft, all going well. Catching the occasional movie. The DVR is a godsend. New furnace recently. A while ago, mom was in a minor car accident on her way to school. She's fine and her car is undergoing repairs.
As for me, well, I'm surviving. When I returned from my trip, things at work had changed. I was given a new system to implement and changed to an hourly rate. I swear the vacation did me well and I returned ready to work. I'm not working enough, not yet, but it's been better than it used to be and my bosses are okay with me. I'm getting things done and putting in time.
But I'm not happy. Though things have improved a bit, I'm still not happy with my career and I still view this as a temporary gig. Someday I will have to get a new job, move out of my mom's house, make my way in the world. In many ways, it feels like I've stalled for the past 3 years. I don't regret any of it, I almost never regret things, but I do need to change it at some point. Fear keeps me from diving over the edge, though, so no radical changes.
But it will change. It must.
A friend of mine commented on my lack of posting and, though I don't have quite enough time to give this post the attention it deserves, I thought it high time I put something up in place of that outdated Amsterdam one.
Work is... unsettling right now. A week ago Monday, they let someone go. Oh it was one of the "new" people (hired about six months ago) and it wasn't unexpected (one of our big clients drastically scaled back their work at the beginning of December), but it's a little off-putting. Yesterday, another of the new people resigned. The e-mail states that he wanted to go back to school, get a Ph.D., pursue a career in academia. Both of the aforementioned new people were unexperienced. Another of the new people, this one being experienced in the field, was told last week that he needs to "become profitable" within a month or he's gone. As for the rest of us here at work, the quantity of work is drying up a bit. None of us are overloaded, as we all were a year ago.
As for me, I don't think I'm in danger of losing my job. Do I want to lose my job? That's the real question. I know I want a new, different job, but I also want to weather the declining economy. I want to survive and, in this case, that means keeping my job until I get a new one.
Last night, I bought an iPhone. Yay. I am tempted to use it to begin Twittering. We shall see if that comes to pass.
While I was at the mall last night, it hit me – the downturn in the economy is making the world a scary place. Oh I've always been pretty insulated from the bad things(TM), but now the recession is making it real. The mall is already a pale shadow of its former self. More stores are closing all the time and the mall is becoming a hollow shell filled with empty stores and hanger-ons. It's starting to become real now and it's scary.
Home, car, family, dog, World of Warcraft, all going well. Catching the occasional movie. The DVR is a godsend. New furnace recently. A while ago, mom was in a minor car accident on her way to school. She's fine and her car is undergoing repairs.
As for me, well, I'm surviving. When I returned from my trip, things at work had changed. I was given a new system to implement and changed to an hourly rate. I swear the vacation did me well and I returned ready to work. I'm not working enough, not yet, but it's been better than it used to be and my bosses are okay with me. I'm getting things done and putting in time.
But I'm not happy. Though things have improved a bit, I'm still not happy with my career and I still view this as a temporary gig. Someday I will have to get a new job, move out of my mom's house, make my way in the world. In many ways, it feels like I've stalled for the past 3 years. I don't regret any of it, I almost never regret things, but I do need to change it at some point. Fear keeps me from diving over the edge, though, so no radical changes.
But it will change. It must.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Disconnect
So, I'm currently writing from Amsterdam, towards the end of our whirlwind tour-de-force (movie.girl & I). More on the trip in a later post, when I get back stateside. This one is about the moment/tonight.
See, movie.girl and I have this certain disconnect which led to a minor disagreement this eve.
She's pissed at me for being me. That is, for being relatively quiet, somber, and not upbeat. She's annoyed because she's the upbeat one, here to entertain me and begin conversations because otherwise I remain stoic and uncommunicative.
As for my part, I'm annoyed with her, though I have yet to voice this to her this trip. She's always right, I'm always wrong, she can do no wrong and I can do no right. I let her lead because if I don't then I'm wrong and she will lead anyways. She cannot, will not and/or is unable to relinquish control to anyone (she & I have talked on this before) and, therefore, I relinquish control to her as that just saves time and hassle in the long run.
Admittedly, I am quiet and stoic and prone to reflection as opposed to outburst or discourse. In contrast, any view point that differs or diverges from hers is wrong. She simply cannot understand or appreciate it.
We went on a tour of Anne Frank's house tonight. Afterwards, she asked my reaction. I don't really have one. Museums like that don't really mean so much to me because they serve better as monuments to symbols, symbols that have a greater force and effect than the museum can ever aspire to. They're shadows of greatness or horror, cast upon a future time to echo.
I tried to tell her some of this and she mocked me. So I asked her what it meant to her. She gave me her answer, and I tried to explain that these museums don't mean as much to me as the family tree I have that shows those relatives lost to the concentration camps.
And she mocked me again.
So my voice rose a bit and I became impassioned/angry/annoyed and she in turn became pissed with me.
I can't talk with her about anything meaningful because if my opinion or viewpoint is different then she cannot appreciate it and discounts it.
Disconnect.
So I'm typing this in the business center of our swanky hotel (it really is quite nice) at 7:45pm (local time) because I don't want to stay in the hotel room with her. She'll never understand me and she doesn't want to try. It's all about her and what she has to do and what people and things mean in relation to her.
And I can't say any of this to her face because she would disagree and fire back and not listen. She can't hear me speak. So I'll take the ultimate passive-aggressive move and write a post about it.
I don't know what I'm going to do tonight. Find somewhere to sit and drink (tea, beer, alcohol, whatever) and read my book. A Tuesday night in Amsterdam, halfway across the world, and I'm not sure where to go. Maybe I'll go see Rembrandt Square. *shrug*
Disconnect.
See, movie.girl and I have this certain disconnect which led to a minor disagreement this eve.
She's pissed at me for being me. That is, for being relatively quiet, somber, and not upbeat. She's annoyed because she's the upbeat one, here to entertain me and begin conversations because otherwise I remain stoic and uncommunicative.
As for my part, I'm annoyed with her, though I have yet to voice this to her this trip. She's always right, I'm always wrong, she can do no wrong and I can do no right. I let her lead because if I don't then I'm wrong and she will lead anyways. She cannot, will not and/or is unable to relinquish control to anyone (she & I have talked on this before) and, therefore, I relinquish control to her as that just saves time and hassle in the long run.
Admittedly, I am quiet and stoic and prone to reflection as opposed to outburst or discourse. In contrast, any view point that differs or diverges from hers is wrong. She simply cannot understand or appreciate it.
We went on a tour of Anne Frank's house tonight. Afterwards, she asked my reaction. I don't really have one. Museums like that don't really mean so much to me because they serve better as monuments to symbols, symbols that have a greater force and effect than the museum can ever aspire to. They're shadows of greatness or horror, cast upon a future time to echo.
I tried to tell her some of this and she mocked me. So I asked her what it meant to her. She gave me her answer, and I tried to explain that these museums don't mean as much to me as the family tree I have that shows those relatives lost to the concentration camps.
And she mocked me again.
So my voice rose a bit and I became impassioned/angry/annoyed and she in turn became pissed with me.
I can't talk with her about anything meaningful because if my opinion or viewpoint is different then she cannot appreciate it and discounts it.
Disconnect.
So I'm typing this in the business center of our swanky hotel (it really is quite nice) at 7:45pm (local time) because I don't want to stay in the hotel room with her. She'll never understand me and she doesn't want to try. It's all about her and what she has to do and what people and things mean in relation to her.
And I can't say any of this to her face because she would disagree and fire back and not listen. She can't hear me speak. So I'll take the ultimate passive-aggressive move and write a post about it.
I don't know what I'm going to do tonight. Find somewhere to sit and drink (tea, beer, alcohol, whatever) and read my book. A Tuesday night in Amsterdam, halfway across the world, and I'm not sure where to go. Maybe I'll go see Rembrandt Square. *shrug*
Disconnect.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Intermission
We'll be right back after a few words from our sponsors.
Tomorrow, I leave for a 10-day vacation. movie.girl and I are headed to Europe! On the menu: Cardiff, (Liverpool), York, Stratford-upon-Avon (SuA), Brussels and Amsterdam.
The focus of the trip is David Tennant's performances with the RSC at SuA, Hamlet and Love's Labour's Lost. In Cardiff, we plan on hitting the Doctor Who Exhibition. In Liverpool, we dine with an acquaintance of movie.girl's. In York, we dine at Betty's. In SuA, we mob David Tennant and wave at Patrick Stewart. In Brussels, we pause. And in Amsterdam.. well, who knows what will transpire in the city of excess.
I'm already looking forward to two weeks of no work. Feeling freer than I have in a long time. My first international trip in about 3 years. Can't wait to go back to York. Betty's! The Minster! Looking forward to seeing David Tennant. Also meeting up with a British attorney in London, just for lunch and drinks. So much to see and do. Cannot wait.
Haven't packed yet. Not going to start right yet. I always pack at the last second. Such a bad idea but hey.
Can't believe we're flying out tomorrow.
In any case, I'll be AWOL for a while. The Actuary's wedding is *right* after we get back. I'm a groomsman for that. Should be lots of fun.
See you on the other side! (Unless I post an update from the road.)
Tomorrow, I leave for a 10-day vacation. movie.girl and I are headed to Europe! On the menu: Cardiff, (Liverpool), York, Stratford-upon-Avon (SuA), Brussels and Amsterdam.
The focus of the trip is David Tennant's performances with the RSC at SuA, Hamlet and Love's Labour's Lost. In Cardiff, we plan on hitting the Doctor Who Exhibition. In Liverpool, we dine with an acquaintance of movie.girl's. In York, we dine at Betty's. In SuA, we mob David Tennant and wave at Patrick Stewart. In Brussels, we pause. And in Amsterdam.. well, who knows what will transpire in the city of excess.
I'm already looking forward to two weeks of no work. Feeling freer than I have in a long time. My first international trip in about 3 years. Can't wait to go back to York. Betty's! The Minster! Looking forward to seeing David Tennant. Also meeting up with a British attorney in London, just for lunch and drinks. So much to see and do. Cannot wait.
Haven't packed yet. Not going to start right yet. I always pack at the last second. Such a bad idea but hey.
Can't believe we're flying out tomorrow.
In any case, I'll be AWOL for a while. The Actuary's wedding is *right* after we get back. I'm a groomsman for that. Should be lots of fun.
See you on the other side! (Unless I post an update from the road.)
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
The Fit and The Shan
Yesterday, the fit hit the proverbial shan at work (though I suppose the fit is also proverbial). I'd overslept for no good reason, finally arriving at work around 11:15am only to rediscover that the fax/item I should have responded to last week (or the week before that or the week before the week before that) finally made its way to the ears of my boss.
So not good.
Yeah, in a lot of trouble. Way behind on many, many things. Very ugly.
Good parts: I'm still here. I finally went through my office and now know what I have to get done. I did some things yesterday. I'm doing more today. Things may be improving. No one actually yelled at me very much.
It always fascinates me how, even when you turn the corner (assuming I have indeed turned a proverbial corner), things have to get worse before they get better. There is no magic shortcut to go from bad to good. It's always a progression that undoubtedly dips into "worse" before turning upwards towards "better." I wonder why that is.
So not good.
Yeah, in a lot of trouble. Way behind on many, many things. Very ugly.
Good parts: I'm still here. I finally went through my office and now know what I have to get done. I did some things yesterday. I'm doing more today. Things may be improving. No one actually yelled at me very much.
It always fascinates me how, even when you turn the corner (assuming I have indeed turned a proverbial corner), things have to get worse before they get better. There is no magic shortcut to go from bad to good. It's always a progression that undoubtedly dips into "worse" before turning upwards towards "better." I wonder why that is.
Monday, September 15, 2008
When is a movie poster not a movie poster?
When the MPAA says so. Kevin Smith's response is dead on, though.
Political Thoughts
Though I have strong feelings on politics and politicians, I'm not particularly well-informed so my passing interest isn't sustained and my dabblings don't extend to any great depth. Even so, I enjoy reading the occasional article or blog post.
Lately, the big discussion topic, of course, is McCain's selection of Palin as his VP running mate. I routinely feel as though many of the discussions miss the mark, however, since they're often focused on the superficial aspects and rarely delve into policy. Yes, she's a woman, and yes, she may have the odd position askew from the Republican base, but by and large Palin's positions and policies are in line with the conservative base. Regardless of her appeal, she's so conservative that I find it impossible to like her.
What always surprises me is how the "liberal media," a descriptor intended to cover every American news program not directly sponsored by an avowed Republican, and some that are, routinely fails to report and/or emphasize the pro-Democrat / anti-Republican stories. I might be tempted to use phrases like "fair and balanced" except it really isn't. By my internet perusal, I read ten times more interesting, fact-based stories (i.e., ones that actually can be supported by, oh I don't know, evidence) than ever appear on the news.
For example, the recent disclosure concerning military ops in Pakistan and US troops on the border being given permission to fire into Pakistan without provocation? That was reported about 21 min. into the NYC evening news with Katie Couric. The story lasted about 1 min. or so. With coverage like that, it's hard to believe we're privy to any news at all, let alone significant news such as, oh, our "recent" military involvement in Pakistan.
Admittedly I am a liberal and I'm annoyed when stories that interest me aren't reported or given much exposure, but you would think that I'd be less annoyed because it's a liberal media that is so clearly pro-Democrat. Or that's what I've been told.
Maybe I'm just becoming more cynical these days, I don't know. I actually expect the news media to give us news, preferably based on evidence and facts. Given that our country hasn't operated based on evidence and facts for the past 7.5 years, maybe my expectations are far-fetched. Probably just the scientist in me who wants to see a more scientific approach. Probably means I'm un-American or some such. Or that I'd like to see more accountability for those in charge who routinely and knowingly operated contrary to or in purposeful ignorance of facts and evidence. Could also just be my cynicism. Who knows?
While I have hopes for the election this November, I'm not very hopeful that the world will change and all will be right (not that it ever was, of course). I'm hoping for improvement, namely some forward movement that is more progressive than we've seen in a long time. Maybe some positive foreign relations and an improvement in the general attitude and view of America. Maybe a more inward-looking position that seeks to address our internal problems before attempting to impose our collective national will on others. Maybe I'm out of my gourd.
I'm pulling for Obama and hoping that America remembers some of the things that have happened in the past 8 years. You know what they say – those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. I don't think we can afford to repeat this history. I'm not sure we'll still be here afterwards if we do.
Lately, the big discussion topic, of course, is McCain's selection of Palin as his VP running mate. I routinely feel as though many of the discussions miss the mark, however, since they're often focused on the superficial aspects and rarely delve into policy. Yes, she's a woman, and yes, she may have the odd position askew from the Republican base, but by and large Palin's positions and policies are in line with the conservative base. Regardless of her appeal, she's so conservative that I find it impossible to like her.
What always surprises me is how the "liberal media," a descriptor intended to cover every American news program not directly sponsored by an avowed Republican, and some that are, routinely fails to report and/or emphasize the pro-Democrat / anti-Republican stories. I might be tempted to use phrases like "fair and balanced" except it really isn't. By my internet perusal, I read ten times more interesting, fact-based stories (i.e., ones that actually can be supported by, oh I don't know, evidence) than ever appear on the news.
For example, the recent disclosure concerning military ops in Pakistan and US troops on the border being given permission to fire into Pakistan without provocation? That was reported about 21 min. into the NYC evening news with Katie Couric. The story lasted about 1 min. or so. With coverage like that, it's hard to believe we're privy to any news at all, let alone significant news such as, oh, our "recent" military involvement in Pakistan.
Admittedly I am a liberal and I'm annoyed when stories that interest me aren't reported or given much exposure, but you would think that I'd be less annoyed because it's a liberal media that is so clearly pro-Democrat. Or that's what I've been told.
Maybe I'm just becoming more cynical these days, I don't know. I actually expect the news media to give us news, preferably based on evidence and facts. Given that our country hasn't operated based on evidence and facts for the past 7.5 years, maybe my expectations are far-fetched. Probably just the scientist in me who wants to see a more scientific approach. Probably means I'm un-American or some such. Or that I'd like to see more accountability for those in charge who routinely and knowingly operated contrary to or in purposeful ignorance of facts and evidence. Could also just be my cynicism. Who knows?
While I have hopes for the election this November, I'm not very hopeful that the world will change and all will be right (not that it ever was, of course). I'm hoping for improvement, namely some forward movement that is more progressive than we've seen in a long time. Maybe some positive foreign relations and an improvement in the general attitude and view of America. Maybe a more inward-looking position that seeks to address our internal problems before attempting to impose our collective national will on others. Maybe I'm out of my gourd.
I'm pulling for Obama and hoping that America remembers some of the things that have happened in the past 8 years. You know what they say – those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. I don't think we can afford to repeat this history. I'm not sure we'll still be here afterwards if we do.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Where It's At
It's been a while. I don't see the infrequency of the posts improving in the near future. Work is shite, which means things aren't going well and, thus, I'm not doing well. Addicted to World of Warcraft once again. Still playing board games. Living in denial and ignorance whenever possible.
I wish I could tie the frequency of posts to a positive or negative trend in my life, but there really isn't much correlation. When I'm good, I may post about the good. When I'm bad, I may post complaints and rants. The absence of posts isn't a good indicator one way or the other.
One reason posting is light is that I cannot and/or will not write about some things. As it happens, these unmentionables are the most salient and influential aspects of my life these days. Unless my stance were to change, which I don't see happening any time soon, these unmentionables shall remain unmentioned and you, random reader, shall be left in the dark.
Suffice it to say I'm relatively unhappy, I seek escape whenever possible and I'm screwing up as much as ever. In other words, not good. I keep waiting for that magical switch to flip and for things to magically get better except it's just not happening. We shall see what happens. One of the worst parts is that even if things were to improve, there would be a sharp period of badness early on. No way around that, though. Ah well.
I wish I could tie the frequency of posts to a positive or negative trend in my life, but there really isn't much correlation. When I'm good, I may post about the good. When I'm bad, I may post complaints and rants. The absence of posts isn't a good indicator one way or the other.
One reason posting is light is that I cannot and/or will not write about some things. As it happens, these unmentionables are the most salient and influential aspects of my life these days. Unless my stance were to change, which I don't see happening any time soon, these unmentionables shall remain unmentioned and you, random reader, shall be left in the dark.
Suffice it to say I'm relatively unhappy, I seek escape whenever possible and I'm screwing up as much as ever. In other words, not good. I keep waiting for that magical switch to flip and for things to magically get better except it's just not happening. We shall see what happens. One of the worst parts is that even if things were to improve, there would be a sharp period of badness early on. No way around that, though. Ah well.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
So many things
& so little time and patience. So I present them below in an abbreviated form to ensure they actually make it into a post. Any one could easily be the topic for an entire post, I simply lack the drive to post each under a separate thread in greater detail.
I. Carrie Fisher
Last night I caught the opening performance of Carrie Fisher's show, "Wishful Drinking," at the Hartford Stage with movie.girl and a new female friend of hers. Carrie Fisher's mother, Debbie Reynolds, was in attendance. The show had previously been in LA, this was just the first performance in Hartford.
It was a strange, entertaining and interesting show. I enjoyed it though Carrie Fisher is clearly batshit crazy (but in a good way). I've decided that the show was bittersweet because it was truthful. She's had an insane life that, as she herself explains, you've got to laugh at. The problem is that it isn't fiction and it's all real. Everything she described (presumably) happened to and around her. The show personalized her, flushing out her back story and character. And that's why it's bittersweet – you have to empathize with her at least a little and a lot of it is absolutely nuts. I don't feel sorry for her, per se, but the show is a little less entertaining because the events and incidents are real.
II. Beta Male
I just finished reading Christopher Moore's book "A Dirty Job." Therein, Mr. Moore repeatedly describes the main character as a "beta male" with direct reference to, and contrasting with, the "alpha male" archetype.
I found the concept to be very interesting and applicable. I'm positive I'm a beta male. I've learned to try and own up to my personality, actions and characteristics. It's no use hiding from yourself. A beta male isn't the best thing to be, but if it aptly describes me then so be it. Not sure what I can learn from the characterization. Perhaps it's simply more of a "know thyself" aphorism.
III. Hanging Out: F+F+M vs. F+M+M
Movie.girl remarked on how it was easier for us to hang out with another girl than it was for us to hang out with another guy, citing two male examples and contrasting them with the new female friend of hers. I observed that it didn't particularly surprise me since the two male examples included one of her previous fiancés and a former male friend of hers who wanted to be more than friends. Guys often see other guys as competition, even when they're not. It's happened to me before and I suspect that's what occurred in relation to her previously. I don't know for sure, but it seems a likely candidate to me.
IV. Upcoming Shows
Made plans with movie.girl to see a bunch of shows including: A Midsummer Night's Dream, Spamalot and Equus (starring Harry Potter, aka Daniel Radcliffe). Also working on tickets for Sweeney Todd.
ADDENDUM: Entries edited for some reason or other. (8/10/08)
I. Carrie Fisher
Last night I caught the opening performance of Carrie Fisher's show, "Wishful Drinking," at the Hartford Stage with movie.girl and a new female friend of hers. Carrie Fisher's mother, Debbie Reynolds, was in attendance. The show had previously been in LA, this was just the first performance in Hartford.
It was a strange, entertaining and interesting show. I enjoyed it though Carrie Fisher is clearly batshit crazy (but in a good way). I've decided that the show was bittersweet because it was truthful. She's had an insane life that, as she herself explains, you've got to laugh at. The problem is that it isn't fiction and it's all real. Everything she described (presumably) happened to and around her. The show personalized her, flushing out her back story and character. And that's why it's bittersweet – you have to empathize with her at least a little and a lot of it is absolutely nuts. I don't feel sorry for her, per se, but the show is a little less entertaining because the events and incidents are real.
II. Beta Male
I just finished reading Christopher Moore's book "A Dirty Job." Therein, Mr. Moore repeatedly describes the main character as a "beta male" with direct reference to, and contrasting with, the "alpha male" archetype.
I found the concept to be very interesting and applicable. I'm positive I'm a beta male. I've learned to try and own up to my personality, actions and characteristics. It's no use hiding from yourself. A beta male isn't the best thing to be, but if it aptly describes me then so be it. Not sure what I can learn from the characterization. Perhaps it's simply more of a "know thyself" aphorism.
III. Hanging Out: F+F+M vs. F+M+M
Movie.girl remarked on how it was easier for us to hang out with another girl than it was for us to hang out with another guy, citing two male examples and contrasting them with the new female friend of hers. I observed that it didn't particularly surprise me since the two male examples included one of her previous fiancés and a former male friend of hers who wanted to be more than friends. Guys often see other guys as competition, even when they're not. It's happened to me before and I suspect that's what occurred in relation to her previously. I don't know for sure, but it seems a likely candidate to me.
IV. Upcoming Shows
Made plans with movie.girl to see a bunch of shows including: A Midsummer Night's Dream, Spamalot and Equus (starring Harry Potter, aka Daniel Radcliffe). Also working on tickets for Sweeney Todd.
ADDENDUM: Entries edited for some reason or other. (8/10/08)
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Posts
No regular posting because. This is looking like a very rough year for me, David Tennant notwithstanding.
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