Here We Go Again
I'm not going to get into a big rant about it, but I wanted to say a couple things about the Arizona shooting. This unfortunate situation is not a soapbox for:
-Liberals to denounce crazy conservatives
-Gun-control supporters to reiterate desire for stricter gun laws
-Groups like the WBC to spout more hateful "it was God's will" crap
-Anyone to say universal health care would have stopped this preemptively
I am honestly sick and tired of all the blame that gets passed around every time a horrible tragedy like this takes place.
Guess what? Even if conservatives stopped their fear-mongering, guns were outlawed, and the U.S. had completely free and universal health care (including care for mental illness), there would still be tragic disasters where unbalanced individuals heartlessly murdered as many people as possible.
So everyone needs to get over blaming those they don't agree with for incidents like this. How about we look for some positive way to make our future a little bit safer? How about for right now, until we know more about the shooter, we focus on the innocent who lost their lives? That might be nice for a change.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Placebo is the Medicine of the Masses
I just read a very interesting article on the placebo effect that you can read here if you want. It's not really anything new about placebos other than the fact that they seem to be working to greater effect lately.
But this got me thinking...there's a serious catch-22 with the placebo effect.
On one hand, a placebo that replaces an actual drug will alleviate any possibility of negative side-effects related to whichever drug was replaced. That's obviously a good thing. Plus it shows the power our minds and bodies have to alleviate symptoms without the use of powerful and potentially dangerous chemicals. Plus a placebo hardly costs anything considering that it will usually be made out of sugar and water (along with minor costs from faux-branding and coloring). This means positive results with less risks for less money. It's a win-win situation!
But on the other hand, a placebo doesn't work if the patient knows it is a placebo. Obviously. And a dead giveaway is the cost. If I go in to pick up an anti-depressant and I am handed a bill for $10 with no insurance, I am going to wonder if what I am taking is actually a helpful drug. To our consumer culture, expensive = quality (much like wine drinkers experience a perceived better taste when drinking more expensive wine regardless of actual quality). Solution? Jack up the price! Insurance will cover it! But wait, then we're charging people tons of money for sugar and water and the insurance carriers won't pay for that because it won't be medically necessary.
So we're at a standstill. A working placebo cannot be given in anything but a clinical trial because there is no way to distribute it without breaking the effect. Either the patient is told it is a placebo and it stops working, or the patient is lied to and somebody has to pay much more than sugar and water is actually worth.
And that's not taking into account the possible lawsuits from any patient who harms himself/herself or someone else while on a placebo, the possible lawsuits from patients who were lied to and found out (even if the placebo worked), the fact that the pharmacies would have to be in on it as well as the insurance carriers, and the fact that the Rx world is a big business and they would do everything in their power to stop placebos taking over their drugs.
It seems like the only solution would be to take those patients who responded positively to placebo and send them to therapy to try and convince them that their symptoms are almost all psychological and that they have the power to overcome said symptoms sans-drugs. But that would likely fail.
Basically we have a potentially powerful answer to all the drugs prescribed and all the side-effects those drugs result in and all the cost that people are stuck with because there is no other way to alleviate symptoms...but we can't use it.
I just read a very interesting article on the placebo effect that you can read here if you want. It's not really anything new about placebos other than the fact that they seem to be working to greater effect lately.
But this got me thinking...there's a serious catch-22 with the placebo effect.
On one hand, a placebo that replaces an actual drug will alleviate any possibility of negative side-effects related to whichever drug was replaced. That's obviously a good thing. Plus it shows the power our minds and bodies have to alleviate symptoms without the use of powerful and potentially dangerous chemicals. Plus a placebo hardly costs anything considering that it will usually be made out of sugar and water (along with minor costs from faux-branding and coloring). This means positive results with less risks for less money. It's a win-win situation!
But on the other hand, a placebo doesn't work if the patient knows it is a placebo. Obviously. And a dead giveaway is the cost. If I go in to pick up an anti-depressant and I am handed a bill for $10 with no insurance, I am going to wonder if what I am taking is actually a helpful drug. To our consumer culture, expensive = quality (much like wine drinkers experience a perceived better taste when drinking more expensive wine regardless of actual quality). Solution? Jack up the price! Insurance will cover it! But wait, then we're charging people tons of money for sugar and water and the insurance carriers won't pay for that because it won't be medically necessary.
So we're at a standstill. A working placebo cannot be given in anything but a clinical trial because there is no way to distribute it without breaking the effect. Either the patient is told it is a placebo and it stops working, or the patient is lied to and somebody has to pay much more than sugar and water is actually worth.
And that's not taking into account the possible lawsuits from any patient who harms himself/herself or someone else while on a placebo, the possible lawsuits from patients who were lied to and found out (even if the placebo worked), the fact that the pharmacies would have to be in on it as well as the insurance carriers, and the fact that the Rx world is a big business and they would do everything in their power to stop placebos taking over their drugs.
It seems like the only solution would be to take those patients who responded positively to placebo and send them to therapy to try and convince them that their symptoms are almost all psychological and that they have the power to overcome said symptoms sans-drugs. But that would likely fail.
Basically we have a potentially powerful answer to all the drugs prescribed and all the side-effects those drugs result in and all the cost that people are stuck with because there is no other way to alleviate symptoms...but we can't use it.
Friday, December 10, 2010
A Treadmill World
A Probably Unnecessary Analogy
So imagine, if you will, that the world is actually an infinite plane. This plane is completely unremarkable in that is has no definitive color or texture; it is simply an infinite surface that everything sits on. What we call sky would blend in completely with this plane, resulting in a "floating" sensation if no point of reference is available. In other words, picture the "lots of guns" scene from the first Matrix film where everything is white, no shadows, no horizon.
Now imagine that at a certain point in life you are given a setting partially designated by you, and partially designated by your life decisions up to that point.
Some people would end up with a cubicle, an ancient computer, and lots of motivational posters featuring kittens all dressed up like humans.
Others would be surrounded by gurneys, I.V. stands, hypodermic needles, and thousands of clipboards.
You get the idea.
Now here's where you need to use that wonderful imagination of yours because this might be confusing with just words. Everything that makes up who you are would be within a small radius and everything would move in relation to you.
For a visual, imagine that you are an apple (just go with me here), your connections to things like work are metal rods, and those things that partially define you (like the cubicle) are oranges. Now stick a whole bunch of metal rods into the apple at various angles and lengths. Now stick an orange onto the end of each rod. As you move the apple, each orange moves perfectly in sync with it.
Don't worry, this is going somewhere...I think.
So there you are, on this infinite plane surrounded by tangible pieces that make up your life. As you take a step forward, all your "stuff" moves with you. Whether you walk, run, jump, or spin around in circles your setting would remain constant. In fact, it wouldn't feel like you were moving at all. Sure, your legs might be making the motion you now associate with walking; but how would you know you were moving?
All that...that big, confusing analogy, is how I feel about middle-class working Americans.
And Now an Attempt to Connect Those Two Things!
Let's use a generic office-job and some guy named Joe as an example. Joe gets the lowest qualification, lowest paying job at Generic Office Inc. He has a certain set of skills that he enhances, all the while tacking on new skills to supplement his original ones. Soon, Joe is king of the bottom of the totem-pole workers! His skills far surpass everyone he works with and he begins to feel a real sense of accomplishment.
But what's this? Joe now feels like he is too good for the job he has and the pay he receives. So he uses his newly refined skills to land a new, better job. This new job is much like his old job, only it requires a higher level of competence and more refined skills. But as Joe takes a seat at his desk, his previously growing sense of accomplishment is ripped from him. He realizes that everyone he works with now knows more than him. They are better, faster, and smarter than him. So he does what anyone would do in that situation, he begins honing his skills again.
This would be followed by a growing sense of accomplishment, another similar, yet better job, and another loss of feeling special because he once more knows nothing compared to his co-workers.
In a sense nothing changes for Joe. He might be replacing some of his setting with newer, nicer pieces, but it's still the same setting. And it seems like Joe only has a few options:
1) To forever climb higher and higher in status/wealth/etc without feeling much in the way of accomplishment because it's not like there's an end to this game unless he reaches upper class status (and even that would be unlikely to satiate the desire of a person who lives for climbing higher in class/status).
2) To reach the pinnacle of his trade at some designated level and then choose to stay at that level because he would surely feel some meaningful accomplishment if everyone around him looked up to him. Or would this leave him feeling like he settled and didn't live up to his personal expectations?
3) To make a drastic change and head off in a new direction. To try and find a job that would allow for a real sense of accomplishment without pushing him to move up. But does that job exist?
So What?
I see so many people around me who are surrounded by "defining things." They walk around and go to parties and get married and make friends, but they have no direction (other than "up" for many). And the only reason I'm saying any of this is because it's happening to me. Well, sort of. I'm finding myself looking around to see where I can make another dollar instead of looking for opportunities to do something I love.
So I guess the real question is, "What is it that gives us the ultimate sense of accomplishment?" Hopefully the answer is not "more money" or we'll spend every waking breath chasing infinity. Maybe the answer is, "Doing something you love." To be honest, I'm not exactly sure.
But I do know that in our horizon-less world we need something to help us keep perspective, to give us a focal point, and to force us to leave some of those oranges behind allowing us to step out and define ourselves by something other than "stuff."
::
::
P.S. I changed my site design. You might have noticed.
A Probably Unnecessary Analogy
So imagine, if you will, that the world is actually an infinite plane. This plane is completely unremarkable in that is has no definitive color or texture; it is simply an infinite surface that everything sits on. What we call sky would blend in completely with this plane, resulting in a "floating" sensation if no point of reference is available. In other words, picture the "lots of guns" scene from the first Matrix film where everything is white, no shadows, no horizon.
Now imagine that at a certain point in life you are given a setting partially designated by you, and partially designated by your life decisions up to that point.
Some people would end up with a cubicle, an ancient computer, and lots of motivational posters featuring kittens all dressed up like humans.
Others would be surrounded by gurneys, I.V. stands, hypodermic needles, and thousands of clipboards.
You get the idea.
Now here's where you need to use that wonderful imagination of yours because this might be confusing with just words. Everything that makes up who you are would be within a small radius and everything would move in relation to you.
For a visual, imagine that you are an apple (just go with me here), your connections to things like work are metal rods, and those things that partially define you (like the cubicle) are oranges. Now stick a whole bunch of metal rods into the apple at various angles and lengths. Now stick an orange onto the end of each rod. As you move the apple, each orange moves perfectly in sync with it.
Don't worry, this is going somewhere...I think.
So there you are, on this infinite plane surrounded by tangible pieces that make up your life. As you take a step forward, all your "stuff" moves with you. Whether you walk, run, jump, or spin around in circles your setting would remain constant. In fact, it wouldn't feel like you were moving at all. Sure, your legs might be making the motion you now associate with walking; but how would you know you were moving?
All that...that big, confusing analogy, is how I feel about middle-class working Americans.
And Now an Attempt to Connect Those Two Things!
Let's use a generic office-job and some guy named Joe as an example. Joe gets the lowest qualification, lowest paying job at Generic Office Inc. He has a certain set of skills that he enhances, all the while tacking on new skills to supplement his original ones. Soon, Joe is king of the bottom of the totem-pole workers! His skills far surpass everyone he works with and he begins to feel a real sense of accomplishment.
But what's this? Joe now feels like he is too good for the job he has and the pay he receives. So he uses his newly refined skills to land a new, better job. This new job is much like his old job, only it requires a higher level of competence and more refined skills. But as Joe takes a seat at his desk, his previously growing sense of accomplishment is ripped from him. He realizes that everyone he works with now knows more than him. They are better, faster, and smarter than him. So he does what anyone would do in that situation, he begins honing his skills again.
This would be followed by a growing sense of accomplishment, another similar, yet better job, and another loss of feeling special because he once more knows nothing compared to his co-workers.
In a sense nothing changes for Joe. He might be replacing some of his setting with newer, nicer pieces, but it's still the same setting. And it seems like Joe only has a few options:
1) To forever climb higher and higher in status/wealth/etc without feeling much in the way of accomplishment because it's not like there's an end to this game unless he reaches upper class status (and even that would be unlikely to satiate the desire of a person who lives for climbing higher in class/status).
2) To reach the pinnacle of his trade at some designated level and then choose to stay at that level because he would surely feel some meaningful accomplishment if everyone around him looked up to him. Or would this leave him feeling like he settled and didn't live up to his personal expectations?
3) To make a drastic change and head off in a new direction. To try and find a job that would allow for a real sense of accomplishment without pushing him to move up. But does that job exist?
So What?
I see so many people around me who are surrounded by "defining things." They walk around and go to parties and get married and make friends, but they have no direction (other than "up" for many). And the only reason I'm saying any of this is because it's happening to me. Well, sort of. I'm finding myself looking around to see where I can make another dollar instead of looking for opportunities to do something I love.
So I guess the real question is, "What is it that gives us the ultimate sense of accomplishment?" Hopefully the answer is not "more money" or we'll spend every waking breath chasing infinity. Maybe the answer is, "Doing something you love." To be honest, I'm not exactly sure.
But I do know that in our horizon-less world we need something to help us keep perspective, to give us a focal point, and to force us to leave some of those oranges behind allowing us to step out and define ourselves by something other than "stuff."
::
::
P.S. I changed my site design. You might have noticed.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
TSA vs. The World
So everyone is getting their proverbial undergarments in an unfortunately uncomfortable position over the somewhat new ruling that every person flying into, out of, within, or over the U.S. must submit to either a backscatter (full body x-ray-like scan) or a "pat down" of the entire body (including genital region). Apparently this is completely unacceptable to most Americans.
People always want what they can't have. They want security and assurance that they will not be put in harm's way by choosing to fly on an airplane, yet they want such lax laws that sneaking a bomb onto a plane would hardly require any actual sneaking.
What would you prefer in the most extreme of examples, A) To allow a professional airport employee a clear view of your genitals (and "clear" is hardly the picture the backscatter gives) followed by catching a bomb-toting terrorist who was set to sit next to you on your flight, or B) To secure genital privacy followed by being blown up due to the bomb-toting terrorist not being caught? Is that really a tough question that needs a pros vs. cons list?
I get it...the system isn't perfect. In fact, the TSA is often playing catch-up (e.g. We only have to take our shoes off after a shoe-bomb is used); but that's hardly reason to scoff at a security upgrade like the one recently imposed.
If anything, the complaint should be that despite added security so much still gets through. I was on my way to film a wedding a while back and had a backpack brimming with film equipment. Cables, wires, batteries, chargers, and tons of electronics were practically spilling from every pocket. I was stopped, as I expected, and asked, "Sir, is there anything in this bag that could harm me." I actually laughed a little, which was apparently the wrong response. He repeated his question and I tried to put on a serious face and replied, "Um...no?" He opened my bag and took out a wheeled dolly. He spun one of the wheels in a circle and then called over to the x-ray technician, "It was just a wheel." A few minutes later as I was heading to my gate I couldn't help but wonder why nail clippers aren't allowed through when this TSA agent just sent me by without so much as a glance at my metal, telescoping mono-pod, or my jumble of wires/batteries/electronics.
In the end, this cry of "foul play" is so unnecessary as to be comical and sad at the same time. And as a parting thought, here is an actual quote from a TSA agent who was questioned about whether he/she liked the new regulations:
“Molester, pervert, disgusting, an embarrassment, creep. These are all words I have heard today at work describing me, said in my presence as I patted passengers down. These comments are painful and demoralizing, one day is bad enough, but I have to come back tomorrow, the next day and the day after that to keep hearing these comments. If something doesn’t change in the next two weeks I don’t know how much longer I can withstand this taunting. I go home and I cry. I am serving my country, I should not have to go home and cry after a day of honorably serving my country.”
P.S. If anyone still actually reads this thing, I'd love to hear your opinion. What do you think the uproar is actually about? My only guess is that people are body-conscious and do not want anyone seeing them undressed. Because...um...what else could this be about?
So everyone is getting their proverbial undergarments in an unfortunately uncomfortable position over the somewhat new ruling that every person flying into, out of, within, or over the U.S. must submit to either a backscatter (full body x-ray-like scan) or a "pat down" of the entire body (including genital region). Apparently this is completely unacceptable to most Americans.
People always want what they can't have. They want security and assurance that they will not be put in harm's way by choosing to fly on an airplane, yet they want such lax laws that sneaking a bomb onto a plane would hardly require any actual sneaking.
What would you prefer in the most extreme of examples, A) To allow a professional airport employee a clear view of your genitals (and "clear" is hardly the picture the backscatter gives) followed by catching a bomb-toting terrorist who was set to sit next to you on your flight, or B) To secure genital privacy followed by being blown up due to the bomb-toting terrorist not being caught? Is that really a tough question that needs a pros vs. cons list?
I get it...the system isn't perfect. In fact, the TSA is often playing catch-up (e.g. We only have to take our shoes off after a shoe-bomb is used); but that's hardly reason to scoff at a security upgrade like the one recently imposed.
If anything, the complaint should be that despite added security so much still gets through. I was on my way to film a wedding a while back and had a backpack brimming with film equipment. Cables, wires, batteries, chargers, and tons of electronics were practically spilling from every pocket. I was stopped, as I expected, and asked, "Sir, is there anything in this bag that could harm me." I actually laughed a little, which was apparently the wrong response. He repeated his question and I tried to put on a serious face and replied, "Um...no?" He opened my bag and took out a wheeled dolly. He spun one of the wheels in a circle and then called over to the x-ray technician, "It was just a wheel." A few minutes later as I was heading to my gate I couldn't help but wonder why nail clippers aren't allowed through when this TSA agent just sent me by without so much as a glance at my metal, telescoping mono-pod, or my jumble of wires/batteries/electronics.
In the end, this cry of "foul play" is so unnecessary as to be comical and sad at the same time. And as a parting thought, here is an actual quote from a TSA agent who was questioned about whether he/she liked the new regulations:
“Molester, pervert, disgusting, an embarrassment, creep. These are all words I have heard today at work describing me, said in my presence as I patted passengers down. These comments are painful and demoralizing, one day is bad enough, but I have to come back tomorrow, the next day and the day after that to keep hearing these comments. If something doesn’t change in the next two weeks I don’t know how much longer I can withstand this taunting. I go home and I cry. I am serving my country, I should not have to go home and cry after a day of honorably serving my country.”
P.S. If anyone still actually reads this thing, I'd love to hear your opinion. What do you think the uproar is actually about? My only guess is that people are body-conscious and do not want anyone seeing them undressed. Because...um...what else could this be about?
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Go and take a ride to a shop in Grant Park
I have three options at this point. 1) Apologize profusely (to who? I don't know) about not posting enough and follow said apology with pathetic reasons why; 2) Continue on like nothing happened and there was no extreme break in continuity; or 3) Acknowledge a break in time and then do a catch-up post.
I choose 3!
So I've spent the last week or so reading through just about every post I've ever made on this blog. For those who don't know, that's 8 years of intermittent posting. As I read through all the things I had written, some of it made me cringe (I am seriously not a particularly good poet), some of it made me laugh (and in response, I think, why can't I be funny any more?), and some of it nearly made me cry (as in, 'I have to stop reading this now or I will be tearing up in the middle of the office').
In the end, the overarching feeling that possessed me was one of satisfaction. As if I had preserved memories and moments in time that would have otherwise been unsavable (I see my penchant for making up words is still strong as ever). This realization (if you will) gave me a desire to keep writing here.
The odd thing is that I was able to trace my desires for this blog over time. I started out wanting, more than anything, to have a ton of people reading what I wrote. I imagined a roiling stock-exchange style atmosphere of witty banter being thrown back and forth through furious, almost unfollowable tangents.
The next stage was one of self-debasement and self-pity. I threw lack of care out like a lure and hoped that my sad, sad state would draw people in. This was basically the same as the first state, but without the blatant cry for attention.
After that came true lack of concern over reader population. If people read my blog, great, if not, great. But I was also stuck in a phrase where I was being narcissistic and felt the my words were good enough that whoever read them would realize that and that I didn't need to advertise.
Then goes more self pity, more blatant advertising, more not caring, more self pity, and finally actual not caring.
I could sense a freedom in writing for nobody but myself. But I found myself asking why I would write on the internet if I didn't care if anybody else read what I was writing. The only answer I could come up with is honesty. I know, that sounds strange. Let me explain. If I have a piece of paper in front of me and I want to tell a story, I can tell it however I like if I know that only I will be reading it. But if I am going to tell that story online, I know that someone who might know the story as well as I, and could call me on it if I lied. It's almost like an accountability group who will keep me at least semi-honest, most of the time.
And even when there is nobody else who knows the story, I know that I will re-read the story that I told the whole world (enter: narcissism), and I know I will genuinely feel bad if I lied.
So...in the long run, this blog is a personal journal punctuated with occasional pleas for feedback, infinite self-indulgence, occasional moments of clarity, countless moment of unclarity, and, overall, a reminder to myself of specific dreams and desires for any given time in my life.
p.s. I guess I actually chose plan 4: recognize my lack of posting, talk about previous posting, and hint at future posting. Go ambiguity!!!
I have three options at this point. 1) Apologize profusely (to who? I don't know) about not posting enough and follow said apology with pathetic reasons why; 2) Continue on like nothing happened and there was no extreme break in continuity; or 3) Acknowledge a break in time and then do a catch-up post.
I choose 3!
So I've spent the last week or so reading through just about every post I've ever made on this blog. For those who don't know, that's 8 years of intermittent posting. As I read through all the things I had written, some of it made me cringe (I am seriously not a particularly good poet), some of it made me laugh (and in response, I think, why can't I be funny any more?), and some of it nearly made me cry (as in, 'I have to stop reading this now or I will be tearing up in the middle of the office').
In the end, the overarching feeling that possessed me was one of satisfaction. As if I had preserved memories and moments in time that would have otherwise been unsavable (I see my penchant for making up words is still strong as ever). This realization (if you will) gave me a desire to keep writing here.
The odd thing is that I was able to trace my desires for this blog over time. I started out wanting, more than anything, to have a ton of people reading what I wrote. I imagined a roiling stock-exchange style atmosphere of witty banter being thrown back and forth through furious, almost unfollowable tangents.
The next stage was one of self-debasement and self-pity. I threw lack of care out like a lure and hoped that my sad, sad state would draw people in. This was basically the same as the first state, but without the blatant cry for attention.
After that came true lack of concern over reader population. If people read my blog, great, if not, great. But I was also stuck in a phrase where I was being narcissistic and felt the my words were good enough that whoever read them would realize that and that I didn't need to advertise.
Then goes more self pity, more blatant advertising, more not caring, more self pity, and finally actual not caring.
I could sense a freedom in writing for nobody but myself. But I found myself asking why I would write on the internet if I didn't care if anybody else read what I was writing. The only answer I could come up with is honesty. I know, that sounds strange. Let me explain. If I have a piece of paper in front of me and I want to tell a story, I can tell it however I like if I know that only I will be reading it. But if I am going to tell that story online, I know that someone who might know the story as well as I, and could call me on it if I lied. It's almost like an accountability group who will keep me at least semi-honest, most of the time.
And even when there is nobody else who knows the story, I know that I will re-read the story that I told the whole world (enter: narcissism), and I know I will genuinely feel bad if I lied.
So...in the long run, this blog is a personal journal punctuated with occasional pleas for feedback, infinite self-indulgence, occasional moments of clarity, countless moment of unclarity, and, overall, a reminder to myself of specific dreams and desires for any given time in my life.
p.s. I guess I actually chose plan 4: recognize my lack of posting, talk about previous posting, and hint at future posting. Go ambiguity!!!
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
This I believe: I believe there is a God
Penn (from Penn and Teller) recently had a short segment on NPR where he explained his belief that there is no God. It is well written and makes one think, “Yeah, that sounds good!” But at the same time, he words things in such a way that it belittles belief in God without directly attacking it. Just as an exercise in fairness I am going to rebut some of the hidden arguments here.
”I believe that there is no God. I'm beyond atheism. Atheism is not believing in God. Not believing in God is easy -- you can't prove a negative, so there's no work to do. You can't prove that there isn't an elephant inside the trunk of my car. You sure? How about now? Maybe he was just hiding before. Check again. Did I mention that my personal heartfelt definition of the word "elephant" includes mystery, order, goodness, love and a spare tire?”
This all starts out accurate and straightforward.
”So, anyone with a love for truth outside of herself has to start with no belief in God and then look for evidence of God. She needs to search for some objective evidence of a supernatural power. All the people I write e-mails to often are still stuck at this searching stage. The atheism part is easy.”
Agreed.
”But, this "This I Believe" thing seems to demand something more personal, some leap of faith that helps one see life's big picture, some rules to live by. So, I'm saying, "This I believe: I believe there is no God."”
At this point I thought, “My gosh, someone who does not believe in God is actually taking the burden of proof upon himself! This is amazing!” But then things go a little downhill in my opinion.
”Having taken that step, it informs every moment of my life. I'm not greedy. I have love, blue skies, rainbows and Hallmark cards, and that has to be enough. It has to be enough, but it's everything in the world and everything in the world is plenty for me. It seems just rude to beg the invisible for more. Just the love of my family that raised me and the family I'm raising now is enough that I don't need heaven. I won the huge genetic lottery and I get joy every day.”
If God (from here on out “God” will refer to the Christian God for lack of confusion) exists, we are not “begging” this being for more than our physical world. If God exists, and there is more than this physical world, God wants us to have more (e.g. Heaven). And saying, “I don’t need heaven” is perfectly fine…especially if one doesn’t believe in it. That’s like saying, “I don’t need unicorns in order to have a joyous life.” Of course Penn doesn’t need heaven to feel joy. He is ok with this world being all there is and therefore has learned to be happy with it. But if God exists, and so does heaven, then saying, “I don’t need heaven” is akin to saying, “I don’t need ultimate fulfillment.”
”Believing there's no God means I can't really be forgiven except by kindness and faulty memories. That's good; it makes me want to be more thoughtful. I have to try to treat people right the first time around.”
This is a straightforward jab at those who believe in God. Let me restate Penn’s comment, “People who believe in God are ok treating people poorly because they know that God can forgive them later.” Anybody who believes in God and lives a selfish life because forgiveness can be given later has completely misunderstood the entire meaning of Christianity. Maybe he forgot that whole, “Do unto others” thing the Bible espouses.
”Believing there's no God stops me from being solipsistic. I can read ideas from all different people from all different cultures. Without God, we can agree on reality, and I can keep learning where I'm wrong. We can all keep adjusting, so we can really communicate. I don't travel in circles where people say, "I have faith, I believe this in my heart and nothing you can say or do can shake my faith." That's just a long-winded religious way to say, "shut up," or another two words that the FCC likes less. But all obscenity is less insulting than, "How I was brought up and my imaginary friend means more to me than anything you can ever say or do." So, believing there is no God lets me be proven wrong and that's always fun. It means I'm learning something.”
The solipsism remark here confuses me. If I believe in God, that means there is more than just my mind in existence. In fact, there has to be more than just my mind…the entirety of creation and others around us is an integral part of life. If I do not believe in God, reality is up for grabs. I would argue that reality is less easy to agree upon without belief in God. In fact, all non-Christian philosophy is proof of that. And my belief in God in no way stops me from reading different ideas from different cultures. I love reading ideas that radically differ from my own. I hunger for knowledge that is not contained within my cultural norms. Just because I don’t adopt 100% of another’s cultural viewpoint does not mean I have not gained or learned from said viewpoint.
But I wholeheartedly agree that people should never say "I have faith, I believe this in my heart and nothing you can say or do can shake my faith." That comment makes me think that Penn is writing this to a very specific subset of unintelligent Christians. My statement goes something like this, “If you can prove to me that my beliefs (beliefs that I do have evidence for) are wrong, I will drop my Christian faith this very instant.” And believing there is a God does not disallow me from being proven wrong. I am proven wrong all the time, and I cherish the learning experience.
”Believing there is no God means the suffering I've seen in my family, and indeed all the suffering in the world, isn't caused by an omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent force that isn't bothered to help or is just testing us, but rather something we all may be able to help others with in the future. No God means the possibility of less suffering in the future.”
I’m not going to go into it, but “the problem of pain” is a well documented debate about how awful things can exist in a God-created world. Arguments that say God’s existence makes the bad things that happen even worse are poor arguments in my opinion. And how does lack of God mean we can fix all the bad things that happen? If there is no God, that means many people are just evil and there is no way to change that (if we take the entirety of history into account). Lack of God seems to lead to lack of hope that somehow the world will all just suddenly get along.
”Believing there is no God gives me more room for belief in family, people, love, truth, beauty, sex, Jell-O and all the other things I can prove and that make this life the best life I will ever have.”
Belief in God does not fill up some sort of “belief bag” that only has so much room in it. In fact, belief in God, if God exists, allows one to have a fuller and more meaningful belief in everything from family to sex to Jell-O. Without God, love is just a chemical reaction. With God, love is a deep emotion given to us by a loving being that wants us to experience his perfect love and therefore allows us this great feeling. The same goes for all “good” things in life. Without God, “good things” feel more hallow because they are random and not given to us out of love.
You might be thinking, "Wait, Grant was unhappy that Penn stated his belief in no God and bundled negatives to belief in God in his statements; but then he stated his belief in God and bundled negatives to belief in no God. Isn't that hypocritical?" I don't really see it that way. If Penn had stated what he did and made actual arguments for his points (rather than just saying, "Believing in no God makes the world a better place...just because") I would have no qualms with what he said.
In the end, I think it's great for people to switch from, "I don't believe in God," to, "I believe that God does not exist." It makes for a more thoughtful approach to life. At least this gets people on the right track to have more meaningful discussions rather than hurling, "Just because!" back and forth at each other.
Penn (from Penn and Teller) recently had a short segment on NPR where he explained his belief that there is no God. It is well written and makes one think, “Yeah, that sounds good!” But at the same time, he words things in such a way that it belittles belief in God without directly attacking it. Just as an exercise in fairness I am going to rebut some of the hidden arguments here.
”I believe that there is no God. I'm beyond atheism. Atheism is not believing in God. Not believing in God is easy -- you can't prove a negative, so there's no work to do. You can't prove that there isn't an elephant inside the trunk of my car. You sure? How about now? Maybe he was just hiding before. Check again. Did I mention that my personal heartfelt definition of the word "elephant" includes mystery, order, goodness, love and a spare tire?”
This all starts out accurate and straightforward.
”So, anyone with a love for truth outside of herself has to start with no belief in God and then look for evidence of God. She needs to search for some objective evidence of a supernatural power. All the people I write e-mails to often are still stuck at this searching stage. The atheism part is easy.”
Agreed.
”But, this "This I Believe" thing seems to demand something more personal, some leap of faith that helps one see life's big picture, some rules to live by. So, I'm saying, "This I believe: I believe there is no God."”
At this point I thought, “My gosh, someone who does not believe in God is actually taking the burden of proof upon himself! This is amazing!” But then things go a little downhill in my opinion.
”Having taken that step, it informs every moment of my life. I'm not greedy. I have love, blue skies, rainbows and Hallmark cards, and that has to be enough. It has to be enough, but it's everything in the world and everything in the world is plenty for me. It seems just rude to beg the invisible for more. Just the love of my family that raised me and the family I'm raising now is enough that I don't need heaven. I won the huge genetic lottery and I get joy every day.”
If God (from here on out “God” will refer to the Christian God for lack of confusion) exists, we are not “begging” this being for more than our physical world. If God exists, and there is more than this physical world, God wants us to have more (e.g. Heaven). And saying, “I don’t need heaven” is perfectly fine…especially if one doesn’t believe in it. That’s like saying, “I don’t need unicorns in order to have a joyous life.” Of course Penn doesn’t need heaven to feel joy. He is ok with this world being all there is and therefore has learned to be happy with it. But if God exists, and so does heaven, then saying, “I don’t need heaven” is akin to saying, “I don’t need ultimate fulfillment.”
”Believing there's no God means I can't really be forgiven except by kindness and faulty memories. That's good; it makes me want to be more thoughtful. I have to try to treat people right the first time around.”
This is a straightforward jab at those who believe in God. Let me restate Penn’s comment, “People who believe in God are ok treating people poorly because they know that God can forgive them later.” Anybody who believes in God and lives a selfish life because forgiveness can be given later has completely misunderstood the entire meaning of Christianity. Maybe he forgot that whole, “Do unto others” thing the Bible espouses.
”Believing there's no God stops me from being solipsistic. I can read ideas from all different people from all different cultures. Without God, we can agree on reality, and I can keep learning where I'm wrong. We can all keep adjusting, so we can really communicate. I don't travel in circles where people say, "I have faith, I believe this in my heart and nothing you can say or do can shake my faith." That's just a long-winded religious way to say, "shut up," or another two words that the FCC likes less. But all obscenity is less insulting than, "How I was brought up and my imaginary friend means more to me than anything you can ever say or do." So, believing there is no God lets me be proven wrong and that's always fun. It means I'm learning something.”
The solipsism remark here confuses me. If I believe in God, that means there is more than just my mind in existence. In fact, there has to be more than just my mind…the entirety of creation and others around us is an integral part of life. If I do not believe in God, reality is up for grabs. I would argue that reality is less easy to agree upon without belief in God. In fact, all non-Christian philosophy is proof of that. And my belief in God in no way stops me from reading different ideas from different cultures. I love reading ideas that radically differ from my own. I hunger for knowledge that is not contained within my cultural norms. Just because I don’t adopt 100% of another’s cultural viewpoint does not mean I have not gained or learned from said viewpoint.
But I wholeheartedly agree that people should never say "I have faith, I believe this in my heart and nothing you can say or do can shake my faith." That comment makes me think that Penn is writing this to a very specific subset of unintelligent Christians. My statement goes something like this, “If you can prove to me that my beliefs (beliefs that I do have evidence for) are wrong, I will drop my Christian faith this very instant.” And believing there is a God does not disallow me from being proven wrong. I am proven wrong all the time, and I cherish the learning experience.
”Believing there is no God means the suffering I've seen in my family, and indeed all the suffering in the world, isn't caused by an omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent force that isn't bothered to help or is just testing us, but rather something we all may be able to help others with in the future. No God means the possibility of less suffering in the future.”
I’m not going to go into it, but “the problem of pain” is a well documented debate about how awful things can exist in a God-created world. Arguments that say God’s existence makes the bad things that happen even worse are poor arguments in my opinion. And how does lack of God mean we can fix all the bad things that happen? If there is no God, that means many people are just evil and there is no way to change that (if we take the entirety of history into account). Lack of God seems to lead to lack of hope that somehow the world will all just suddenly get along.
”Believing there is no God gives me more room for belief in family, people, love, truth, beauty, sex, Jell-O and all the other things I can prove and that make this life the best life I will ever have.”
Belief in God does not fill up some sort of “belief bag” that only has so much room in it. In fact, belief in God, if God exists, allows one to have a fuller and more meaningful belief in everything from family to sex to Jell-O. Without God, love is just a chemical reaction. With God, love is a deep emotion given to us by a loving being that wants us to experience his perfect love and therefore allows us this great feeling. The same goes for all “good” things in life. Without God, “good things” feel more hallow because they are random and not given to us out of love.
You might be thinking, "Wait, Grant was unhappy that Penn stated his belief in no God and bundled negatives to belief in God in his statements; but then he stated his belief in God and bundled negatives to belief in no God. Isn't that hypocritical?" I don't really see it that way. If Penn had stated what he did and made actual arguments for his points (rather than just saying, "Believing in no God makes the world a better place...just because") I would have no qualms with what he said.
In the end, I think it's great for people to switch from, "I don't believe in God," to, "I believe that God does not exist." It makes for a more thoughtful approach to life. At least this gets people on the right track to have more meaningful discussions rather than hurling, "Just because!" back and forth at each other.
Monday, August 10, 2009
I need a break from reality for a bit. Moving, changing jobs, starting a new company, preparing for a wedding, trying to save a ton of money, giving up friends, and cramming my brain full of info for licensing for a new job is finally taking a toll on me. I just want to get away from it all for a bit.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Working with life insurance is strange...
...the conversation basically goes:
Life Insurance Company: Bet you're not gonna die!
Client: Bet you I will!
So I'm pretty much all moved in to my parent's house in San Jose and am going strong in my new job. It's a little bit strange going from starving waiter with dreams of finding a film production job to benefits consultant and insurance broker with dreams of finding a film production job.
Everything is a bit overwhelming right now as I'm trying to learn customer assistance, how to handle claim issues, how to make quotes, how to explain 401k, and get licensed in life/health/accident insurance...all at the same time.
But the truth is, I'm really enjoying where I'm at right now. I still want to thank all of you who gave me advice on this move. All of it was wonderfully helpful and made my decision that much easier. I also want to publicly thank Megan. I'm not sure I know of any significant others who would say, "Oh, we're getting married in a year and you want to move 450miles away from me? Ok!" I would be a mess if it were not for the support of my friends and family.
Other things that are happening: I'm learning Indian culture pretty quickly; I'm reuniting with some old high school friends; I'm eating better than I have in 8 years; and I'm still not used to having nights and weekends free (*shakes fist angrily at 4 years of working in the restaurant industry*).
I'll try to keep things updated here for anyone who checks the site. Also, if anyone is interested in how the wedding stuff is going, you can check out:
our wedding site
Hope all is well with everyone! Feel free to write or call any time so I can keep updated on you all.
...the conversation basically goes:
Life Insurance Company: Bet you're not gonna die!
Client: Bet you I will!
So I'm pretty much all moved in to my parent's house in San Jose and am going strong in my new job. It's a little bit strange going from starving waiter with dreams of finding a film production job to benefits consultant and insurance broker with dreams of finding a film production job.
Everything is a bit overwhelming right now as I'm trying to learn customer assistance, how to handle claim issues, how to make quotes, how to explain 401k, and get licensed in life/health/accident insurance...all at the same time.
But the truth is, I'm really enjoying where I'm at right now. I still want to thank all of you who gave me advice on this move. All of it was wonderfully helpful and made my decision that much easier. I also want to publicly thank Megan. I'm not sure I know of any significant others who would say, "Oh, we're getting married in a year and you want to move 450miles away from me? Ok!" I would be a mess if it were not for the support of my friends and family.
Other things that are happening: I'm learning Indian culture pretty quickly; I'm reuniting with some old high school friends; I'm eating better than I have in 8 years; and I'm still not used to having nights and weekends free (*shakes fist angrily at 4 years of working in the restaurant industry*).
I'll try to keep things updated here for anyone who checks the site. Also, if anyone is interested in how the wedding stuff is going, you can check out:
our wedding site
Hope all is well with everyone! Feel free to write or call any time so I can keep updated on you all.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Can I just say...
...I love my friends. And that includes you. Yes, you. I made my last post as a sort of desperate hail-mary. Not that I am going to base major life-changing decisions on comments from a blog; but I was hoping to get insight from someone outside of my immediate situation. To those of you who responded: thank you.
I know I haven't always been the best of friends. Ed, I never make it to your shows (damn this mostly weekend restaurant job). Aro, I'm flaky when it comes to reading scripts/comics and giving advice. Aaron and Kirsten, I have now failed twice to make it to your place to hang out. But despite my downfalls, you all stick by me.
The more I think about it, the more I feel sure that friendship is much more than society/media tells us. Here's how I see real friendship:
Friends Are:
-There when you need them, as well as when you feel you don't; because let's face it, you always need them.
-Those who, despite weeks/months/years passing between visits, feel as if you hung out with them just the other day.
-Willing to tell you that you are being ridiculous/stupid/stubborn even when they know you will temporarily hate them for it. And in the long run, that's part of why you have them around.
-Lifesavers when your life needs saving.
-One of the best parts of life.
Now forgive me for this sappy post. I just wanted to say thank you to all my friends. I am forever grateful for all the love you have bestowed upon me. Hopefully I have made you feel special a couple times as well.
...I love my friends. And that includes you. Yes, you. I made my last post as a sort of desperate hail-mary. Not that I am going to base major life-changing decisions on comments from a blog; but I was hoping to get insight from someone outside of my immediate situation. To those of you who responded: thank you.
I know I haven't always been the best of friends. Ed, I never make it to your shows (damn this mostly weekend restaurant job). Aro, I'm flaky when it comes to reading scripts/comics and giving advice. Aaron and Kirsten, I have now failed twice to make it to your place to hang out. But despite my downfalls, you all stick by me.
The more I think about it, the more I feel sure that friendship is much more than society/media tells us. Here's how I see real friendship:
Friends Are:
-There when you need them, as well as when you feel you don't; because let's face it, you always need them.
-Those who, despite weeks/months/years passing between visits, feel as if you hung out with them just the other day.
-Willing to tell you that you are being ridiculous/stupid/stubborn even when they know you will temporarily hate them for it. And in the long run, that's part of why you have them around.
-Lifesavers when your life needs saving.
-One of the best parts of life.
Now forgive me for this sappy post. I just wanted to say thank you to all my friends. I am forever grateful for all the love you have bestowed upon me. Hopefully I have made you feel special a couple times as well.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Undecided/Indecisive
This site has taken many turns. It started out as a goofy way to link to funny pictures and complain about my loner-status. It then became a semi-regular window into my life (and all activities I deemed "news worthy"). After that, I went through a serious phase where my posts all had weight and gravitas (or so I liked to think). Now? Now I try and mix all the good parts from the past. Funny links mixed with life-updates and a sprinkling of serious topics makes for, [once more] in my opinion, a decent site that one might choose to visit now and then.
What I have stayed away from is using this site for angry name-calling (though it was incredibly tempting at times), serious self-help (I tried to keep my serious problems cloaked in obscurity so as not to be shouting, "Pity me!"), or taking myself too seriously (I never want to think that I am special because I write some words on the internet). But...there are always exceptions to the rules (though a recent episode of House had House saying, "No, there are not exceptions to every rule, that's why they call them rules" or something like that). I am now going to use this site as a way to express mildly angry name-calling (breaking rule #1), procure self-help (breaking rule #2), and take myself seriously (breaking rule #3). Well, at least for this particular post. Then it's probably back to posts about skid-marks and pictures of raccoons procreating.
The name-calling comes into play because I am angry at the economy. I know, it's kinda meta, but I'm angry that I put so much time into my chosen career of "filmmaker" and now that I'm ready to embark upon that adventure, there seems to be no way into said career. Why couldn't the depression have taken place while I was in school and not looking for a film job? Now that I'm ready to get that perfect job, people are being laid off left and right and those fateful words of my film school teachers ("Oh, getting a post-production job will be easy") haunt me.
The self-help and taking myself seriously are almost one in the same. I have a dilemma. I want to make films. That is, as far as I can tell, my calling. But at the same time I am going to be married in almost exactly one year. I told myself I would not get myself into said situation (marriage) unless I could take care of myself and my wife financially. I never wanted to be that guy who gets married and then ends up working three minimum-wage jobs just to make ends meet. With the economy as it is, I don't see myself getting "that awesome film job" any time soon. Since I do want to have the money to enable a not-super-stressful first year of marriage, I am now considering alternatives job-wise.
The situation is basically as follows: I have the possible ability to take a job that is secure, safe, and pretty good in way of making money. This job, however, is not at all what I saw myself doing at any point in my life.
So the dilemma is as follows: do I continue the search for that perfect film job that will, at very least, allow me to financially support my future family; or do I take a job that will definitely allow me security even though it is not something I particularly want to do? Is this one of those give-and-take kinda things that I have heard are so vital to a good married life? Or am I being pessimistic in thinking that I cannot get the job I desire (and possibly hindering my future in the film business due to taking even more time away from it)?
Right now I am seriously considering taking the secure job as a in-between thing until I can get a job I will come home from feeling fulfilled and happy. If you read this site, I would love for your input. I'm a bit lost in all of this and I'm hoping that I will suddenly see a sign that says, "Do THAT! No, seriously, do it. It's for the best!" But I know that is unlikely. Life is all about taking risks; and I'm trying to figure out which risk to take.
Anyway, just some thoughts that I hoped to get some input on.
This site has taken many turns. It started out as a goofy way to link to funny pictures and complain about my loner-status. It then became a semi-regular window into my life (and all activities I deemed "news worthy"). After that, I went through a serious phase where my posts all had weight and gravitas (or so I liked to think). Now? Now I try and mix all the good parts from the past. Funny links mixed with life-updates and a sprinkling of serious topics makes for, [once more] in my opinion, a decent site that one might choose to visit now and then.
What I have stayed away from is using this site for angry name-calling (though it was incredibly tempting at times), serious self-help (I tried to keep my serious problems cloaked in obscurity so as not to be shouting, "Pity me!"), or taking myself too seriously (I never want to think that I am special because I write some words on the internet). But...there are always exceptions to the rules (though a recent episode of House had House saying, "No, there are not exceptions to every rule, that's why they call them rules" or something like that). I am now going to use this site as a way to express mildly angry name-calling (breaking rule #1), procure self-help (breaking rule #2), and take myself seriously (breaking rule #3). Well, at least for this particular post. Then it's probably back to posts about skid-marks and pictures of raccoons procreating.
The name-calling comes into play because I am angry at the economy. I know, it's kinda meta, but I'm angry that I put so much time into my chosen career of "filmmaker" and now that I'm ready to embark upon that adventure, there seems to be no way into said career. Why couldn't the depression have taken place while I was in school and not looking for a film job? Now that I'm ready to get that perfect job, people are being laid off left and right and those fateful words of my film school teachers ("Oh, getting a post-production job will be easy") haunt me.
The self-help and taking myself seriously are almost one in the same. I have a dilemma. I want to make films. That is, as far as I can tell, my calling. But at the same time I am going to be married in almost exactly one year. I told myself I would not get myself into said situation (marriage) unless I could take care of myself and my wife financially. I never wanted to be that guy who gets married and then ends up working three minimum-wage jobs just to make ends meet. With the economy as it is, I don't see myself getting "that awesome film job" any time soon. Since I do want to have the money to enable a not-super-stressful first year of marriage, I am now considering alternatives job-wise.
The situation is basically as follows: I have the possible ability to take a job that is secure, safe, and pretty good in way of making money. This job, however, is not at all what I saw myself doing at any point in my life.
So the dilemma is as follows: do I continue the search for that perfect film job that will, at very least, allow me to financially support my future family; or do I take a job that will definitely allow me security even though it is not something I particularly want to do? Is this one of those give-and-take kinda things that I have heard are so vital to a good married life? Or am I being pessimistic in thinking that I cannot get the job I desire (and possibly hindering my future in the film business due to taking even more time away from it)?
Right now I am seriously considering taking the secure job as a in-between thing until I can get a job I will come home from feeling fulfilled and happy. If you read this site, I would love for your input. I'm a bit lost in all of this and I'm hoping that I will suddenly see a sign that says, "Do THAT! No, seriously, do it. It's for the best!" But I know that is unlikely. Life is all about taking risks; and I'm trying to figure out which risk to take.
Anyway, just some thoughts that I hoped to get some input on.
Monday, May 04, 2009
More Memories
I realize that my memories of my “younger years” (put in quotes because, let’s face it, being 26 doesn’t exactly entitle me to phrases like, ‘When I was young,’ or, ‘back in my day’) are possibly excruciatingly unpleasant to read for those who do not fall in one of two categories: 1) Those who are not me, or 2) Those who do not care what influenced me to become the person I am today. I, however, ignore the lack of interest since, in my opinion, reliving past experiences through prose-like writing can help one come to terms with the past and shine a light on who we are to become. So, in other words, I don’t care if you don’t care…I want to do this.
Wow…that was scarily cynical and full of self-loathing. Sorry!
I’m 18 years old and close to graduating from high school. I’ve gone through many fashion phases (everything from goth to nerd) and have settled on Express (or whatever ‘Express Men’ was before it took the name of the previously purely feminine store) sweaters, semi-baggy jeans, and tennis shoes. My hair is nice cropped in a comb-over style. Since I drive my sister home after school, and since she is much more popular than I, I often have to wait for her to show up. She’s off talking and flirting and having a good time while I lean against a wall awkwardly waiting and not talking to anyone. I must have seen one too many fashion advertisements and subconsciously accepted model-poses as common ways to present oneself. I would stand there with my shoulder bag, leaning against the wall, one foot raised and pressed against the wall. My eyes somewhat downcast. Calvin Kline models always stand like this, so it must be normal…right? One day my sister tells me that I looked like an Express model, standing there in my sweater with my foot on the wall and my ‘devil-may-care’ expression. I took this as a good thing at the time. Now, I walk by the mannequins in the Express storefront and cringe at the thought that I once thought looking like that was cool.
I’m 19 years old and, through some good fortune (read: my parents are way too nice) drove a 1980 convertible Mercedes 450SL. I sped everywhere. And by ‘everywhere’ I mean that every time I entered the car and drove, I sped. Due to the age of the car, the speedometer only went to 85mph. On many occasions I pushed the needle to the stopper at 85mph. I often drove somewhere between 85mph and 100mph. I never knew how fast I was going; but speed was a fix I needed. I was driving home one night at about 1am; there was no traffic, which allowed me to push my acceptable speed limit to the max. It was sprinkling; and California freeways do not get the most moisture…causing an extreme lack of traction. I closed in on my exit, a turn that hit about 70 degrees or more, and flew up towards the light. As I hit the pinnacle of the turn my car slid. I was, luckily, on the inside lane, and my skid took me to the very edge of the outside lane where a huge ditch laid waiting. Less than 2 seconds felt like 5 minutes as I cranked the wheel and let go of the brake in hopes that I was doing the right action to save myself from rolling over. I pulled out of the slide and ended up right at the line of the stoplight. As my breathing slowed and my heart returned to its natural pace, I vowed to never disregard the laws of the road to that extent again.
I’m 20 years old and my brother and I decide to go out dancing. If you have seen Dane Cook’s older acts (before he started sucking hardcore) you might have seen his bit about the difference in guys going out dancing versus girls going out dancing. He basically says that girls go out dancing ‘just to dance’ to no other intentions, whereas you never hear of a group of guys going out and saying, ‘F girls tonight, I just wanna dance!.’ Well, my brother and I actually want out just to dance. We hit a local 18-and-up club and went about our normal procedure: I got a sprite and my brother got a vodka-redbull. I would pour my sprite out and we would stand in a dark corner where he would pour his drink into my now empty plastic cup (non-alcoholic drinks were poured into plastic cups). This club, however, was very keen on plans like ours, and 20 minutes later we are still trying to trade drinks. The bouncers have numbers on their backs and we see, no kidding, bouncer #37 pass us by. They have, at least 37 bouncers watching for illicit activity. We finally trade drinks, I down it in 2 gulps, and we dance. Hours pass and despite “hot” girls dancing inches away, we have tons of fun just goofing off and not ‘playing the game.’ To this day I have a hard time explaining that I have been to dance clubs without the intent to hook up.
I realize that my memories of my “younger years” (put in quotes because, let’s face it, being 26 doesn’t exactly entitle me to phrases like, ‘When I was young,’ or, ‘back in my day’) are possibly excruciatingly unpleasant to read for those who do not fall in one of two categories: 1) Those who are not me, or 2) Those who do not care what influenced me to become the person I am today. I, however, ignore the lack of interest since, in my opinion, reliving past experiences through prose-like writing can help one come to terms with the past and shine a light on who we are to become. So, in other words, I don’t care if you don’t care…I want to do this.
Wow…that was scarily cynical and full of self-loathing. Sorry!
I’m 18 years old and close to graduating from high school. I’ve gone through many fashion phases (everything from goth to nerd) and have settled on Express (or whatever ‘Express Men’ was before it took the name of the previously purely feminine store) sweaters, semi-baggy jeans, and tennis shoes. My hair is nice cropped in a comb-over style. Since I drive my sister home after school, and since she is much more popular than I, I often have to wait for her to show up. She’s off talking and flirting and having a good time while I lean against a wall awkwardly waiting and not talking to anyone. I must have seen one too many fashion advertisements and subconsciously accepted model-poses as common ways to present oneself. I would stand there with my shoulder bag, leaning against the wall, one foot raised and pressed against the wall. My eyes somewhat downcast. Calvin Kline models always stand like this, so it must be normal…right? One day my sister tells me that I looked like an Express model, standing there in my sweater with my foot on the wall and my ‘devil-may-care’ expression. I took this as a good thing at the time. Now, I walk by the mannequins in the Express storefront and cringe at the thought that I once thought looking like that was cool.
I’m 19 years old and, through some good fortune (read: my parents are way too nice) drove a 1980 convertible Mercedes 450SL. I sped everywhere. And by ‘everywhere’ I mean that every time I entered the car and drove, I sped. Due to the age of the car, the speedometer only went to 85mph. On many occasions I pushed the needle to the stopper at 85mph. I often drove somewhere between 85mph and 100mph. I never knew how fast I was going; but speed was a fix I needed. I was driving home one night at about 1am; there was no traffic, which allowed me to push my acceptable speed limit to the max. It was sprinkling; and California freeways do not get the most moisture…causing an extreme lack of traction. I closed in on my exit, a turn that hit about 70 degrees or more, and flew up towards the light. As I hit the pinnacle of the turn my car slid. I was, luckily, on the inside lane, and my skid took me to the very edge of the outside lane where a huge ditch laid waiting. Less than 2 seconds felt like 5 minutes as I cranked the wheel and let go of the brake in hopes that I was doing the right action to save myself from rolling over. I pulled out of the slide and ended up right at the line of the stoplight. As my breathing slowed and my heart returned to its natural pace, I vowed to never disregard the laws of the road to that extent again.
I’m 20 years old and my brother and I decide to go out dancing. If you have seen Dane Cook’s older acts (before he started sucking hardcore) you might have seen his bit about the difference in guys going out dancing versus girls going out dancing. He basically says that girls go out dancing ‘just to dance’ to no other intentions, whereas you never hear of a group of guys going out and saying, ‘F girls tonight, I just wanna dance!.’ Well, my brother and I actually want out just to dance. We hit a local 18-and-up club and went about our normal procedure: I got a sprite and my brother got a vodka-redbull. I would pour my sprite out and we would stand in a dark corner where he would pour his drink into my now empty plastic cup (non-alcoholic drinks were poured into plastic cups). This club, however, was very keen on plans like ours, and 20 minutes later we are still trying to trade drinks. The bouncers have numbers on their backs and we see, no kidding, bouncer #37 pass us by. They have, at least 37 bouncers watching for illicit activity. We finally trade drinks, I down it in 2 gulps, and we dance. Hours pass and despite “hot” girls dancing inches away, we have tons of fun just goofing off and not ‘playing the game.’ To this day I have a hard time explaining that I have been to dance clubs without the intent to hook up.
Friday, May 01, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
So I have this theory...
...and what better way to test a theory than to baselessly speculate about it on the internet. As was recently quoted (by a comedy TV show): "It's the internet. There's not place for truth on the internet."
Grant's [baseless] Theory of Age
When born, we (humans) are helpless beings, totally dependent on more competent humans to feed us, change us, make us happy, take care of us in case of sickness, etc, etc. Unlike other species (e.g. turtles), we cannot fend for ourselves; and without constant supervision, we (in our infant state) will surely perish.
As we age, we gain the ability to take care of ourselves. We reach an undetermined age (only undetermined because there is no way to ethically test it) where we could, if absolutely necessary, survive on our own. A 1-year-old on it's own will die. A 7-year-old on it's own might find a way to forge ahead and survive.
One day, however, we start to decline. Science today tells us that humans reach their pinnacle, their best if you will, at some point during the late 20's. As our brains deteriorate and our bodies decline, we find ourselves relying on the same assistance that we once needed as infants. Changing of diapers, feeding of nutrients, and help dressing/undressing are not uncommon for the elderly.
Our infant nature and our elderly state are often compared. We are born into diapers, and we die in them (with a brief interval free from safety-undergarments).
But I have another, possibly better, comparison for the human elderly state: the state of being drunk.
No, wait, hear me out. If you can, observe a group of elderly people. Take notes. Don't worry, they won't notice...they're old. Now observe a typical group of super-intoxicated younger people. Take notes. Don't worry, they won't notice...they're too drunk and self-involved (or on a sexual conquest) to notice.
Now make comparisons. Notice anything? You should. Here are some common quirks of drunkenness and their age-induced counterparts:
Forgetfulness: Drunk people forget their keys, where they parked their car, that they're married, and what they planned to order at the Taco Bell drive-through. Old people forget their keys, where they parked their car, that they've already taken their medication, or that they haven't eaten in 20+ hours.
Lack of Motor-Skills: Drunk people crash cars, trip over curbs (or even small cracks in the pavement), type poorly formed e-mails and text-messages, and attempt feeble punches aimed at larger (and obviously much more intimidating) bar-goers. Old people crash cars, trip over just about anything, call people the wrong name and retell stories told just minutes ago, and believe they can do tasks they could do when they were younger (e.g. carry the 30-pound bag of groceries to the car).
Confidence: Drunk people tell others of qualities/jobs/traits they do not possess, approach girls/guys so far out of their range it's laughable, and consider themselves God's gift to this earth. Old people mis-remember the past and boast of qualities/jobs/traits they never possessed, assure others they are capable of tasks they simply cannot do (e.g. drive), and due to point 1 (mis-remembering) still consider themselves to be part of the in-crowd or in the know.
Ignoring the Facts: Drunk people say they can still drive, boast of prowess (whether sexual, physical, or mental) they do not have, and proclaim loudly and often that they are not drunk. Old people say they can still drive, boast of prowess they either never had or no longer have, and proclaim loudly and often that they are not too old.
Point being, from what I can tell, being old is like being drunk without all the perks. The young person who is drunk has issues driving to the nearest Del Taco, forgets his order, crashes his car into the garage trying to park, passes out before he can "perform" for the girl he convinced to come home with him, and can't remember any of the night before; whereas the old person has issues driving to the nearest early-bird special, crashes his car into the telephone pole on the way home, can't perform for his wife of 40 years (time for a Viagra refill), and can't remember any of the night before. The difference is that the young person will sober up and not have to deal with all the previously mentioned symptoms. The old person lives perpetually in all the mentioned symptoms (with the exception being the amazingly-alert old person who still has memory and motor-skills).
The point in all of this? I can't wait to be old. It will be nice to forget to eat healthy, crash my car, and re-tell the same story 6 times in a row...and then have people say, "Oh, it's ok, he's old." At least then I'll have an excuse.
...and what better way to test a theory than to baselessly speculate about it on the internet. As was recently quoted (by a comedy TV show): "It's the internet. There's not place for truth on the internet."
Grant's [baseless] Theory of Age
When born, we (humans) are helpless beings, totally dependent on more competent humans to feed us, change us, make us happy, take care of us in case of sickness, etc, etc. Unlike other species (e.g. turtles), we cannot fend for ourselves; and without constant supervision, we (in our infant state) will surely perish.
As we age, we gain the ability to take care of ourselves. We reach an undetermined age (only undetermined because there is no way to ethically test it) where we could, if absolutely necessary, survive on our own. A 1-year-old on it's own will die. A 7-year-old on it's own might find a way to forge ahead and survive.
One day, however, we start to decline. Science today tells us that humans reach their pinnacle, their best if you will, at some point during the late 20's. As our brains deteriorate and our bodies decline, we find ourselves relying on the same assistance that we once needed as infants. Changing of diapers, feeding of nutrients, and help dressing/undressing are not uncommon for the elderly.
Our infant nature and our elderly state are often compared. We are born into diapers, and we die in them (with a brief interval free from safety-undergarments).
But I have another, possibly better, comparison for the human elderly state: the state of being drunk.
No, wait, hear me out. If you can, observe a group of elderly people. Take notes. Don't worry, they won't notice...they're old. Now observe a typical group of super-intoxicated younger people. Take notes. Don't worry, they won't notice...they're too drunk and self-involved (or on a sexual conquest) to notice.
Now make comparisons. Notice anything? You should. Here are some common quirks of drunkenness and their age-induced counterparts:
Forgetfulness: Drunk people forget their keys, where they parked their car, that they're married, and what they planned to order at the Taco Bell drive-through. Old people forget their keys, where they parked their car, that they've already taken their medication, or that they haven't eaten in 20+ hours.
Lack of Motor-Skills: Drunk people crash cars, trip over curbs (or even small cracks in the pavement), type poorly formed e-mails and text-messages, and attempt feeble punches aimed at larger (and obviously much more intimidating) bar-goers. Old people crash cars, trip over just about anything, call people the wrong name and retell stories told just minutes ago, and believe they can do tasks they could do when they were younger (e.g. carry the 30-pound bag of groceries to the car).
Confidence: Drunk people tell others of qualities/jobs/traits they do not possess, approach girls/guys so far out of their range it's laughable, and consider themselves God's gift to this earth. Old people mis-remember the past and boast of qualities/jobs/traits they never possessed, assure others they are capable of tasks they simply cannot do (e.g. drive), and due to point 1 (mis-remembering) still consider themselves to be part of the in-crowd or in the know.
Ignoring the Facts: Drunk people say they can still drive, boast of prowess (whether sexual, physical, or mental) they do not have, and proclaim loudly and often that they are not drunk. Old people say they can still drive, boast of prowess they either never had or no longer have, and proclaim loudly and often that they are not too old.
Point being, from what I can tell, being old is like being drunk without all the perks. The young person who is drunk has issues driving to the nearest Del Taco, forgets his order, crashes his car into the garage trying to park, passes out before he can "perform" for the girl he convinced to come home with him, and can't remember any of the night before; whereas the old person has issues driving to the nearest early-bird special, crashes his car into the telephone pole on the way home, can't perform for his wife of 40 years (time for a Viagra refill), and can't remember any of the night before. The difference is that the young person will sober up and not have to deal with all the previously mentioned symptoms. The old person lives perpetually in all the mentioned symptoms (with the exception being the amazingly-alert old person who still has memory and motor-skills).
The point in all of this? I can't wait to be old. It will be nice to forget to eat healthy, crash my car, and re-tell the same story 6 times in a row...and then have people say, "Oh, it's ok, he's old." At least then I'll have an excuse.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Memories
Once more inspired by Sarah Brown , I thought it was time for a random memory post. Hope you enjoy!
It’s Christmas morning. I am 9 years old and my brother and I share a room (the girls got their own rooms; apparently it’s better for the boys to share a room than the girls). We know Santa doesn’t exist; but that doesn’t curb our enthusiasm for the upcoming spectacle. It’s family tradition to head to the kitchen the morning of, and have a big glass of orange juice (coffee for the adults) before we head into the living room for present opening. 6am hits and I am wide awake. “Chad,” I whisper, “do you think the presents are there?” “Yeah,” he responds, hiding his excitement (for it’s a little kid thing to get so excited about presents…he’s too cool), “but we’re not supposed to look yet.” “Yeah,” I reply; and then I get up, sneak down the hall, and look down at the Christmas tree from the second-story balcony. In the early morning glow the tree is a beautiful silhouette and the presents glisten temptingly, hiding names on tags, hinting at untold glories ready to be unfurled upon anxious souls. No matter how good the gifts were, the waiting was always more fulfilling than anything that could come after.
I’m not particularly liked or disliked…but it’s junior year in high school and every glance and comment implies love or hate in my mind. I’m a theatre-nerd and a film-kid and my peers see me as “that guy.” Nobody loves me beyond all others, and only a few hate me (but that's a whole new story). Theatre is, oddly enough, a very respected extracurricular activity at my school, and I have a lead in the Senior-produced play. Our color-scheme is sepia, and my blonde hair doesn’t work well with said scheme. Rather than wigging up every night, I choose to use dye to solve the problem (even for my facial hair grown especially for said play). My goth-mentor (also in the play) buys some black hair dye and we sneak into the theatre after everyone has gone home. We go into the theatre restroom and I apply the dye to my hair, eyebrows, and facial hair. Since heat makes dye grab hold quicker I put a wig on over my plastic-bagged head. The wig is from a recent play, The Lark, and belonged to the lead girl (Joan of Arc) who had a boyish haircut. My friend and I spend a solid hour in the mostly dark and totally empty theatre acting out our favorite movie/film scenes on stage. The cleaners show up and stumble upon me, on stage, in a shaggy and choppy wig, pretending I am a Monty Python character who is ‘not dead yet.’ We laugh it off before washing out the dye and standing speechless looking at my now strikingly affected hair, eyebrows, and facial hair.
It’s Thanksgiving time and I am home with the family. I head out on Thanksgiving night with one of my all-time best friends. During high school we loved getting McFlurries from McDonalds. There’s something about that cheap ice cream and chopped up candy at 1am that blows all other desserts out of the water. During high school our favorite was always Butterfinger®. We hit up the local McD’s and through the crappy drive-through speaker requested two Butterfinger® McFlurries. We were promptly informed that the Butterfinger® variety of our favorite tasty treat is no longer an available option. Dejected and broken-hearted, we ordered plain vanilla McFlurries. I had a plan. We hit up an all-night grocery store and bought two Butterfinger® bars and headed back to my house. With a well–implemented meat-mallet and some ingenuity we had ourselves some genuinely delicious Butterfinger® McFlurries (take that McDonalds). The lesson learned: don't accept defeat...an all-night grocery might just have the answer to your dilemma.
Monday, April 06, 2009
I've been getting e-mails from some dating website and thought it was just spam. I decided to unsubscribe from a list I never actually subscribed to when I was brought to a profile page for a fellow "greenmoose." Here's a grab from the page:
And some more:
Now I'm pretty sure nobody would go through these lengths for a joke that only I would see. I guess this Hitler-loving Brit accidentally put my e-mail address in as his own and I'm getting his notifications.
Whatever the case, I guess this proves that not everyone who chooses "greenmoose" as a screen name shares similarities.
And some more:
Now I'm pretty sure nobody would go through these lengths for a joke that only I would see. I guess this Hitler-loving Brit accidentally put my e-mail address in as his own and I'm getting his notifications.
Whatever the case, I guess this proves that not everyone who chooses "greenmoose" as a screen name shares similarities.
Monday, March 09, 2009
No, Really, Who Does Watch the Watchmen?
Or:
A Fanboy's Dilemma
Quick side-note (or pre-note, or whatever): Even if you don't give a damn about the Watchmen phenomenon, skip to the end of this post where I critique a strange Asian alcohol ad.
Megan and I went and saw Watchmen today on a brand new Imax screen in a beautiful building with an incredible sound system and super-comfy chairs. If you have a chance to see a film at the Garden Walk in Anaheim, do it. I want you to know that I've never been huge into comics or graphic novels, have never read anything else by Alan Moore, and have never even been big into comic-to-movie adaptations. A friend from work lent me the book to read after I told him how great the trailer looked. I was, at the time, totally unaware of the massive following and cult-like love of this work. I plowed through the book (yeah, I'm calling it a book. Without going into detail, the amount of work that went into this work of art rivals many novels written today) in 2 days and was, at that point, even more excited for the movie.
If you haven't read Watchmen, you would be doing yourself a favor to do so. Even if you're not into graphic novels and have never picked one up in your life. Looking passed the exceptional art, the amazing writing, and all the costumed heroes is a story of an alternate history that our country could easily have gone through with a few simple (and even feasible) changes (ok, fine, aside from Dr. Manhattan). Moore creates a world in which all moral and ethical lines are blurred, metaphysics and our understanding of time and creation are brought into question, and art and real life imitate each other in ways that are creepily relatable to our actual world today. Somewhere in the midst of stories-within-stories, real life issues (such as impotence), and love and fraternity fraught with peril and deception, I lost myself in a make believe world that I grew to love.
Don't worry, all this setup is going somewhere.
The film, in my opinion, did an incredible job at taking amazingly dense material and turning it into a film that captured almost every necessary aspect of the story as possible. This is a feat which would scare me senseless if I were the one put to the task. The film pulled no punches, respected the original work to a worship-like degree, and captured the spirit of what Moore wanted to say (once more, this is all in my opinion. Many would disagree with me).
As I tried to understand the disparity in opinions (RottenTomatoes currently has the film at a meager 65%), I came to a conclusion: the subjective opinion of the film is directly related to the viewer's expectations. Hold on, don't laugh and control-q this post yet. Hear me out. This movie is somewhat unique in the "expectation" theory I just began explaining. If I am going to see The Dark Knight I have certain expectations: Batman should be similar in most respects to the actual character; there should be some amazing action; there should be some sort of moral choice that tests Batman; and the world of Batman should stay at least somewhat canon (e.g. Batman shouldn't suddenly and unexplainably have the gift of non-technologically-aided flight). Most everyone knows what they are getting into before going to see a Batman movie. If all those points are met, then the argument of whether the film is "good" will come down to artistic merit, acting skill, music choice, editing, etc, etc. Since nobody (hopefully) goes in to a Batman movie with the expectation of a feel-good romantic comedy full of personal redemption and maybe a goofy character to lighten things up with fart jokes and physical comedy, nobody walks out with their base expectations shattered.
Watchmen is a whole different consideration. Many people (in fact, I would say at least half, if not more) are going to see this movie based on the trailer alone. The trailer is pretty amazing...and if I were basing my expectations for the movie on the trailer, I would go in expecting a kick-ass action film full of awesome superheroes and mass amounts of mindless violence. If that was your expectation heading in to the film, Watchmen would be a major disappointment. I'm not trying to belittle the average action-film movie-goer; but if Transformers or any of the Riddick films are your cup of tea, metaphysical discussions, major human flaws, and governmental dealings with rogue vigilantes might not fulfill that deep desire for blood and guts.
I've talked to every person who I know who has seen the film; and questions lead to one of two outcomes:
Me: So, what did you think of Watchmen?
P1: It was amazing, I was totally blown away.
Me: Have you read the book?
P1: Yeah, I loved it.
Or...
Me: So, what did you think of Watchmen?
P2: Um, it was ok. I was kinda disappointed.
Me: Have you read the book?
P2: No.
Seriously, without fail, those who loved the movie have read the book, and those who were less than impressed have not. But wait, my point is not that those who have not read the book can't like the film, or that they are not capable of liking the film, or even that their not having read it invalidates their opinion. This realization has brought me to an interesting, if not confusing, crossroads:
Is a piece of art that seemingly cannot be appropriately enjoyed by those who do not have some sort of previous knowledge of the art-piece good art?
For example, Donnie Darko is one of my favorite films. It was from the start. But the more I delved into the online information of the film, the more I stumbled across extra material put out there by the director. Fake books "written" by characters from the film. Puzzles to solve that explained some of the mysteries. In the end, I had this amazing understanding of the intricacies of the film that few had. Many claimed that the film was partially incoherent and therefore unenjoyable. I tried to explain what I had found; but the common response was, "If the movie itself doesn't tell me all I need to know, it failed in its message." And trust me, I see that point of view.
But with Watchmen I am sympathetic. There is simply so much to the original book that this attempt seems epic and amazing to me on every level. And I can't help but think that with even a cursory reading of the original material, the movie would be enjoyed that much more. At the same time, there is something to be said about making something accessible to everyone whether or not they have previously read the source material.
Last example, and then a conclusion (before a really fun/funny Asian ad): If I go to an art museum and look at a painting, I can have multiple experiences. For example, I look at a Lochener painting like this:
I can have two reactions. The first is the uninformed reaction of like or dislike (usually based on color, or topic, or the artist's talent). The other reaction is the educated reaction that puts aside those aesthetic considerations to admire the use of the golden ratio, the triangle, the pentagram, the symbolism of the placement of the angels and how focus is drawn to the Christ-child, etc. After that admiration, those other considerations (color, talent, etc) can be incorporated into the decision of whether or not the piece is a great work of art or not. Neither approach is better than the other; and neither approach is necessary to viewing the painting. But each method results in drastically differing outcomes of personal enjoyment of the piece.
So my conclusion, what I've been trying to get at, is that Watchmen is a complicated piece of art. Few would say that the pacing, acting, timing, or visual effects are sub-par. In fact, most would say that the film is really amazing on those levels (if not other levels). This makes me think that if a greater understanding of the piece was had, that the intellectual value of the film, paired with the more obvious merits, makes this film something pretty special. I'm not going to judge Dostoevsky's Brother's Karamazov based on how fun it was to read; and I think that Watchmen should be approached from a view more elevated (read: intellectual) than that of the average action film.
::
::
On THAT note...I ended up at a Korean BBQ joint at 4am the other night. It's a long story. Ask me sometime. Anyway, the place-mats had an ad for some kind of fruit-flavored alcohol that I found absolutely hilarious. Here are the pictures in sequential form (sorry for the lack of quality, I'm lacking a scanner):
Man stalks sealion on beach. Notice his Bear Gryll's like tactic of blending in by imitating the stalked animal.
Oh no! The sealion has spotted him. The only choice is to hold his ground and imply ferociousness!
FIGHT!
Exhausted, the enemies lay in the sand, contemplating their next moves.
Next move? Take shots with the enemy! We all know that fights between males always end in hugs, alcohol, and slurred comments like, "Nothing personal, man...I love you, man!"
Seriously, we might find Japanese ads to be strange; but good lord do they have the upper-hand when it comes to something memorable. A man fights a sealion and ends up doing shots of some strange, fruity alcohol with it? Count me in!
Or:
A Fanboy's Dilemma
Quick side-note (or pre-note, or whatever): Even if you don't give a damn about the Watchmen phenomenon, skip to the end of this post where I critique a strange Asian alcohol ad.
Megan and I went and saw Watchmen today on a brand new Imax screen in a beautiful building with an incredible sound system and super-comfy chairs. If you have a chance to see a film at the Garden Walk in Anaheim, do it. I want you to know that I've never been huge into comics or graphic novels, have never read anything else by Alan Moore, and have never even been big into comic-to-movie adaptations. A friend from work lent me the book to read after I told him how great the trailer looked. I was, at the time, totally unaware of the massive following and cult-like love of this work. I plowed through the book (yeah, I'm calling it a book. Without going into detail, the amount of work that went into this work of art rivals many novels written today) in 2 days and was, at that point, even more excited for the movie.
If you haven't read Watchmen, you would be doing yourself a favor to do so. Even if you're not into graphic novels and have never picked one up in your life. Looking passed the exceptional art, the amazing writing, and all the costumed heroes is a story of an alternate history that our country could easily have gone through with a few simple (and even feasible) changes (ok, fine, aside from Dr. Manhattan). Moore creates a world in which all moral and ethical lines are blurred, metaphysics and our understanding of time and creation are brought into question, and art and real life imitate each other in ways that are creepily relatable to our actual world today. Somewhere in the midst of stories-within-stories, real life issues (such as impotence), and love and fraternity fraught with peril and deception, I lost myself in a make believe world that I grew to love.
Don't worry, all this setup is going somewhere.
The film, in my opinion, did an incredible job at taking amazingly dense material and turning it into a film that captured almost every necessary aspect of the story as possible. This is a feat which would scare me senseless if I were the one put to the task. The film pulled no punches, respected the original work to a worship-like degree, and captured the spirit of what Moore wanted to say (once more, this is all in my opinion. Many would disagree with me).
As I tried to understand the disparity in opinions (RottenTomatoes currently has the film at a meager 65%), I came to a conclusion: the subjective opinion of the film is directly related to the viewer's expectations. Hold on, don't laugh and control-q this post yet. Hear me out. This movie is somewhat unique in the "expectation" theory I just began explaining. If I am going to see The Dark Knight I have certain expectations: Batman should be similar in most respects to the actual character; there should be some amazing action; there should be some sort of moral choice that tests Batman; and the world of Batman should stay at least somewhat canon (e.g. Batman shouldn't suddenly and unexplainably have the gift of non-technologically-aided flight). Most everyone knows what they are getting into before going to see a Batman movie. If all those points are met, then the argument of whether the film is "good" will come down to artistic merit, acting skill, music choice, editing, etc, etc. Since nobody (hopefully) goes in to a Batman movie with the expectation of a feel-good romantic comedy full of personal redemption and maybe a goofy character to lighten things up with fart jokes and physical comedy, nobody walks out with their base expectations shattered.
Watchmen is a whole different consideration. Many people (in fact, I would say at least half, if not more) are going to see this movie based on the trailer alone. The trailer is pretty amazing...and if I were basing my expectations for the movie on the trailer, I would go in expecting a kick-ass action film full of awesome superheroes and mass amounts of mindless violence. If that was your expectation heading in to the film, Watchmen would be a major disappointment. I'm not trying to belittle the average action-film movie-goer; but if Transformers or any of the Riddick films are your cup of tea, metaphysical discussions, major human flaws, and governmental dealings with rogue vigilantes might not fulfill that deep desire for blood and guts.
I've talked to every person who I know who has seen the film; and questions lead to one of two outcomes:
Me: So, what did you think of Watchmen?
P1: It was amazing, I was totally blown away.
Me: Have you read the book?
P1: Yeah, I loved it.
Or...
Me: So, what did you think of Watchmen?
P2: Um, it was ok. I was kinda disappointed.
Me: Have you read the book?
P2: No.
Seriously, without fail, those who loved the movie have read the book, and those who were less than impressed have not. But wait, my point is not that those who have not read the book can't like the film, or that they are not capable of liking the film, or even that their not having read it invalidates their opinion. This realization has brought me to an interesting, if not confusing, crossroads:
Is a piece of art that seemingly cannot be appropriately enjoyed by those who do not have some sort of previous knowledge of the art-piece good art?
For example, Donnie Darko is one of my favorite films. It was from the start. But the more I delved into the online information of the film, the more I stumbled across extra material put out there by the director. Fake books "written" by characters from the film. Puzzles to solve that explained some of the mysteries. In the end, I had this amazing understanding of the intricacies of the film that few had. Many claimed that the film was partially incoherent and therefore unenjoyable. I tried to explain what I had found; but the common response was, "If the movie itself doesn't tell me all I need to know, it failed in its message." And trust me, I see that point of view.
But with Watchmen I am sympathetic. There is simply so much to the original book that this attempt seems epic and amazing to me on every level. And I can't help but think that with even a cursory reading of the original material, the movie would be enjoyed that much more. At the same time, there is something to be said about making something accessible to everyone whether or not they have previously read the source material.
Last example, and then a conclusion (before a really fun/funny Asian ad): If I go to an art museum and look at a painting, I can have multiple experiences. For example, I look at a Lochener painting like this:
I can have two reactions. The first is the uninformed reaction of like or dislike (usually based on color, or topic, or the artist's talent). The other reaction is the educated reaction that puts aside those aesthetic considerations to admire the use of the golden ratio, the triangle, the pentagram, the symbolism of the placement of the angels and how focus is drawn to the Christ-child, etc. After that admiration, those other considerations (color, talent, etc) can be incorporated into the decision of whether or not the piece is a great work of art or not. Neither approach is better than the other; and neither approach is necessary to viewing the painting. But each method results in drastically differing outcomes of personal enjoyment of the piece.So my conclusion, what I've been trying to get at, is that Watchmen is a complicated piece of art. Few would say that the pacing, acting, timing, or visual effects are sub-par. In fact, most would say that the film is really amazing on those levels (if not other levels). This makes me think that if a greater understanding of the piece was had, that the intellectual value of the film, paired with the more obvious merits, makes this film something pretty special. I'm not going to judge Dostoevsky's Brother's Karamazov based on how fun it was to read; and I think that Watchmen should be approached from a view more elevated (read: intellectual) than that of the average action film.
::
::
On THAT note...I ended up at a Korean BBQ joint at 4am the other night. It's a long story. Ask me sometime. Anyway, the place-mats had an ad for some kind of fruit-flavored alcohol that I found absolutely hilarious. Here are the pictures in sequential form (sorry for the lack of quality, I'm lacking a scanner):
Man stalks sealion on beach. Notice his Bear Gryll's like tactic of blending in by imitating the stalked animal.
Oh no! The sealion has spotted him. The only choice is to hold his ground and imply ferociousness!
FIGHT!
Exhausted, the enemies lay in the sand, contemplating their next moves.
Next move? Take shots with the enemy! We all know that fights between males always end in hugs, alcohol, and slurred comments like, "Nothing personal, man...I love you, man!"Seriously, we might find Japanese ads to be strange; but good lord do they have the upper-hand when it comes to something memorable. A man fights a sealion and ends up doing shots of some strange, fruity alcohol with it? Count me in!
Thursday, March 05, 2009
The Things We Call Normal
We all do it. There's no denying it. Men and women alike. We fall victim to primal urges and can't do anything about it. But there's no reason to be ashamed. It's natural...though some of us are more "out there" than others. So the next time someone asks you, "Do you do that, or am I just a freak?, you can respond, "Well, I might not do that, but trust me, I do things you would never consider."
Of course I am talking about idiosyncratic behavior. Wait, what did you think I was talking about? Oh...that...you're sick.
Anyway, I thought I would expose one of my behavioral "tics" (if you will excuse the loose definition of the term). I hate certain foods under certain conditions; but love those same foods under other conditions. Time for a bulleted list (I am particularly fond of bullets)! A prefix of "H" denotes hatred and a prefix of "L" denotes love:
Tomatoes
H: Whole tomatoes; large chunks of tomato; slices of tomato
L: Salsa with small chunks of tomato; ketchup; tomato sauce
Onions
H: Whole onions; slices of onion; chunks of onion (e.g. in salsa)
L: Onion rings; shallots cooked into cheese fondue; caramelized onions chopped finely
Peppers
H: Whole peppers; chunks of peppers
L: Appropriate dishes cooked with peppers that are then removed (leaving only the taste)
Mushrooms
H: Mushrooms in, well, just about any form
L: Non-mushroom-based broths with whole mushrooms that do not need to be eaten in order to consume the broth or items cooked in the broth
Blue cheese
H: Blue cheese dressing
L: Blue cheese in crumbled or whole form on just about anything
Cherries
H: Maraschino cherries; cherry-flavored candy; cherry-flavored drinks
L: Whole cherries (along the line of Bing cherries)
Pickles
H: Cucumbers; sliced pickles on any sort of sandwich, relish on anything
L: Pickle spears (whether sweet or sour)
Anyway, you get the idea. And analyzing it makes me realize something...I like the essence of items better than the item itself. This doesn't apply to everything. For example, I like bacon in it's whole, unadulterated, greasy, fatty form...but I wouldn't rather have essence of bacon in an omelet. So, since my theory of "essence over whole-form" doesn't apply across the board (by any means), there must be some other reason. My best guess is the item's texture.
Mouthfeel (a term often used with things like wine) is important to me. When I bite into a burger, the bun, sauce, and meat are all soft. The lettuce is a bit crunchy; but gives way rather easily and is rather tasteless (I could care less if lettuce is on a burger). But if you put a slice of tomato on my burger, there's the juicy, squishyness of the overripe or overcooked tomato competing with the other textures. Grilled onion is a super-crunchy and often taste-overloading addition. Pickles have a unique crunch and burst of salty-bitter flavor that isn't cohesive. I like food like burgers to be a united flavor and texture. The lettuce is a bit confusing; but I'd say it's more crisp than overwhelmingly crunchy; and it doesn't distract one from the burgery-goodness being enjoyed.
This textural take on why I like some foods some ways but not others seems so be applicable to all my weird likes/dislikes (other than, say, blue-cheese dressing; which I can't, for the life of me, explain). Tomatoes are either too gooey or too crunchy and watery; onions are either too crunchy, or too overpoweringly flavorful; peppers are the same as onions; mushrooms are too slick and mushy (not to mention the pungent flavor I can't ignore); cherries, in anything but natural form, taste acidic and medicine-like to me (Maraschino cherries taste like the fluoride-treatments I grew up hating); and pickles are too crunchy and have too much concentrated flavor.
I know, I know...I'm being picky. But at least I can eat most foods in some form. Sure, a raw tomato with the skin on is full of antioxidants due to the lycopenes; but better some tomato than no tomato...right?
In other words...I'm weird. I know that, and I accept that. My willingness to eat a huge chunk of onion if it's wrapped in fried batter is no weirder than your rule about not drinking any fluids while eating; having to face south to sleep soundly; or having to pump your hand up and down three times (exactly) while shaking hands. We all do strange things, and we all have our own (conscious or unconscious) reasons for doing so. But it's definitely fun every now and then to look at the things we do all the time and ask, "Um, why the heck do I do that?"
::
::
Stop reading here if this was uninteresting. Otherwise, it just gets worse from here on out.
Bonus Blog!!1
Here are some extra idiosyncrasies particular to me:
-I do things in symmetrical fours (e.g. If I'm walking down a hall and there are ridges on the wooden paneling and I tap one of said ridges with my right hand, I will then tap three more of said ridges; or (more strange and incriminating) if I run my tongue against my molars on the right side of my mouth, I will then do so on the left side, then the right side, and then finally on the left side again). Some might call this OCD, I call it...um, well, OCD.
-When I have a set number of things to do, I will often lay out the list in my head in bulleted or numbered form (e.g. "Ok, so seven more things before I go to sleep...grab my chapstick *grabs chapstick*, turn off the light *turns off light*, get in bed *gets in bed*, drink some water so I don't wake up dehydrated *drinks some water*, put on chapstick after drinking water so as not to compromise chapstick application *puts on chapstick*, turn off light *turns off light*, go to sleep *lays down and attempts to sleep*.) I'm not kidding.
No, I don't think everyone has such defined (or particularly strange) habits; but I do think that if we examine our lives, we often find mostly unexplainable actions that are regular (if not essential). For all I know, my love of symmetry (especially things in fours) goes back to 2nd grade where my teacher taught me that odd numbers are more difficult to reduce using division. Or maybe I'm just strange. Either way, analyzing our personal habits is a great way to delve into psychology (or just delve into the uniqueness of the human brain).
Anyway...I have 7 more things to do before I go to sleep, and I only swished my mouthwash on three sides of my mouth (so I need to swish once more). Sleep well oh internets, and remember, bizarre habits are what differentiate us, so carry on with your actions that nobody else will ever fully understand.
We all do it. There's no denying it. Men and women alike. We fall victim to primal urges and can't do anything about it. But there's no reason to be ashamed. It's natural...though some of us are more "out there" than others. So the next time someone asks you, "Do you do that, or am I just a freak?, you can respond, "Well, I might not do that, but trust me, I do things you would never consider."
Of course I am talking about idiosyncratic behavior. Wait, what did you think I was talking about? Oh...that...you're sick.
Anyway, I thought I would expose one of my behavioral "tics" (if you will excuse the loose definition of the term). I hate certain foods under certain conditions; but love those same foods under other conditions. Time for a bulleted list (I am particularly fond of bullets)! A prefix of "H" denotes hatred and a prefix of "L" denotes love:
Tomatoes
H: Whole tomatoes; large chunks of tomato; slices of tomato
L: Salsa with small chunks of tomato; ketchup; tomato sauce
Onions
H: Whole onions; slices of onion; chunks of onion (e.g. in salsa)
L: Onion rings; shallots cooked into cheese fondue; caramelized onions chopped finely
Peppers
H: Whole peppers; chunks of peppers
L: Appropriate dishes cooked with peppers that are then removed (leaving only the taste)
Mushrooms
H: Mushrooms in, well, just about any form
L: Non-mushroom-based broths with whole mushrooms that do not need to be eaten in order to consume the broth or items cooked in the broth
Blue cheese
H: Blue cheese dressing
L: Blue cheese in crumbled or whole form on just about anything
Cherries
H: Maraschino cherries; cherry-flavored candy; cherry-flavored drinks
L: Whole cherries (along the line of Bing cherries)
Pickles
H: Cucumbers; sliced pickles on any sort of sandwich, relish on anything
L: Pickle spears (whether sweet or sour)
Anyway, you get the idea. And analyzing it makes me realize something...I like the essence of items better than the item itself. This doesn't apply to everything. For example, I like bacon in it's whole, unadulterated, greasy, fatty form...but I wouldn't rather have essence of bacon in an omelet. So, since my theory of "essence over whole-form" doesn't apply across the board (by any means), there must be some other reason. My best guess is the item's texture.
Mouthfeel (a term often used with things like wine) is important to me. When I bite into a burger, the bun, sauce, and meat are all soft. The lettuce is a bit crunchy; but gives way rather easily and is rather tasteless (I could care less if lettuce is on a burger). But if you put a slice of tomato on my burger, there's the juicy, squishyness of the overripe or overcooked tomato competing with the other textures. Grilled onion is a super-crunchy and often taste-overloading addition. Pickles have a unique crunch and burst of salty-bitter flavor that isn't cohesive. I like food like burgers to be a united flavor and texture. The lettuce is a bit confusing; but I'd say it's more crisp than overwhelmingly crunchy; and it doesn't distract one from the burgery-goodness being enjoyed.
This textural take on why I like some foods some ways but not others seems so be applicable to all my weird likes/dislikes (other than, say, blue-cheese dressing; which I can't, for the life of me, explain). Tomatoes are either too gooey or too crunchy and watery; onions are either too crunchy, or too overpoweringly flavorful; peppers are the same as onions; mushrooms are too slick and mushy (not to mention the pungent flavor I can't ignore); cherries, in anything but natural form, taste acidic and medicine-like to me (Maraschino cherries taste like the fluoride-treatments I grew up hating); and pickles are too crunchy and have too much concentrated flavor.
I know, I know...I'm being picky. But at least I can eat most foods in some form. Sure, a raw tomato with the skin on is full of antioxidants due to the lycopenes; but better some tomato than no tomato...right?
In other words...I'm weird. I know that, and I accept that. My willingness to eat a huge chunk of onion if it's wrapped in fried batter is no weirder than your rule about not drinking any fluids while eating; having to face south to sleep soundly; or having to pump your hand up and down three times (exactly) while shaking hands. We all do strange things, and we all have our own (conscious or unconscious) reasons for doing so. But it's definitely fun every now and then to look at the things we do all the time and ask, "Um, why the heck do I do that?"
::
::
Stop reading here if this was uninteresting. Otherwise, it just gets worse from here on out.
Bonus Blog!!1
Here are some extra idiosyncrasies particular to me:
-I do things in symmetrical fours (e.g. If I'm walking down a hall and there are ridges on the wooden paneling and I tap one of said ridges with my right hand, I will then tap three more of said ridges; or (more strange and incriminating) if I run my tongue against my molars on the right side of my mouth, I will then do so on the left side, then the right side, and then finally on the left side again). Some might call this OCD, I call it...um, well, OCD.
-When I have a set number of things to do, I will often lay out the list in my head in bulleted or numbered form (e.g. "Ok, so seven more things before I go to sleep...grab my chapstick *grabs chapstick*, turn off the light *turns off light*, get in bed *gets in bed*, drink some water so I don't wake up dehydrated *drinks some water*, put on chapstick after drinking water so as not to compromise chapstick application *puts on chapstick*, turn off light *turns off light*, go to sleep *lays down and attempts to sleep*.) I'm not kidding.
No, I don't think everyone has such defined (or particularly strange) habits; but I do think that if we examine our lives, we often find mostly unexplainable actions that are regular (if not essential). For all I know, my love of symmetry (especially things in fours) goes back to 2nd grade where my teacher taught me that odd numbers are more difficult to reduce using division. Or maybe I'm just strange. Either way, analyzing our personal habits is a great way to delve into psychology (or just delve into the uniqueness of the human brain).
Anyway...I have 7 more things to do before I go to sleep, and I only swished my mouthwash on three sides of my mouth (so I need to swish once more). Sleep well oh internets, and remember, bizarre habits are what differentiate us, so carry on with your actions that nobody else will ever fully understand.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Weddings - Soul-Sucking Leeches or Fantasy-Realizations
First, a quick note: apparently I'm a totally abnormal fiance. The more shows I watch and books I read, the more I understand that men either don't care about wedding planning or have horribly bad ideas that their obsessive bride-to-be shoots down while belittling every aspect of their future husband. I, however, don't find this wedding planning stuff to be avoidance-inducing-poison. Plus, Megan and I have such similar tastes that our ideas almost always coincide. This, apparently, is not common. Case in point...a recent conversation at work:
Me: So we're going to a Crate & Barrel registry thing tomorrow.
Co-Worker 1: (Said sarcastically) Ugh...I'm sure that will be fun.
Co-Worker 2: Seriously.
Me: Um, well, I'm looking forward to it. It's all kinda fun.
Co-Worker 1: (Said to Co-Worker 2) Woah, who is this guy, it can't be Grant we're talking to.
Anyway, I've been warned time and again that planning a wedding will stress you out to the point where you simply want to crawl into a hole and hide 'til it's all over. And yeah, I can see that point of view. This past weekend I drove to and from Redlands to visit a venue (before having to work that night), to and from Pomona for a wedding expo, to and from Riverside to meet a photographer, and to and from Irvine to meet a videographer. An entire tank of gas and a lot of missed sleep later, I'm done. I never want to do that much wedding work in a 3-day period ever again.
The word "budget" is now my biggest enemy, and trying to find cost-effective solutions to one of the most expensive days I will ever participate in is maddening. There are literally hundreds of minute details that have to work perfectly together to make this upcoming day possible. The word "thousand" (as in $1,000) gets thrown around like it's no big deal. Suddenly eloping sounds like a wonderful option.
Megan and I don't get a lot of time together in the first place due to completely conflicting work schedules and a 45-minute drive between us. Now, instead of just getting to hang out every once in a while, we are spending almost all our limited and precious time together going over wedding details.
But...on the other hand, thinking of this day that is now 1 year and 3 months away, is completely joy-inducing. Putting together small pieces that will eventually equal a complete day is like doing a puzzle that I can't wait to see completed. Considering my future with Megan, the thing this day will officialize, makes me wish that it was happening tomorrow. Going through all the trials and difficulties of planning seems like a minuscule task when compared to the end result.
So in the end, weddings are both a worthy adversary, and a welcome friend. So far I wouldn't change anything. I know that no matter how hard things get, or how difficult things feel, in the end it will all be worth it. I simply can't wait to be Megan's husband.
First, a quick note: apparently I'm a totally abnormal fiance. The more shows I watch and books I read, the more I understand that men either don't care about wedding planning or have horribly bad ideas that their obsessive bride-to-be shoots down while belittling every aspect of their future husband. I, however, don't find this wedding planning stuff to be avoidance-inducing-poison. Plus, Megan and I have such similar tastes that our ideas almost always coincide. This, apparently, is not common. Case in point...a recent conversation at work:
Me: So we're going to a Crate & Barrel registry thing tomorrow.
Co-Worker 1: (Said sarcastically) Ugh...I'm sure that will be fun.
Co-Worker 2: Seriously.
Me: Um, well, I'm looking forward to it. It's all kinda fun.
Co-Worker 1: (Said to Co-Worker 2) Woah, who is this guy, it can't be Grant we're talking to.
Anyway, I've been warned time and again that planning a wedding will stress you out to the point where you simply want to crawl into a hole and hide 'til it's all over. And yeah, I can see that point of view. This past weekend I drove to and from Redlands to visit a venue (before having to work that night), to and from Pomona for a wedding expo, to and from Riverside to meet a photographer, and to and from Irvine to meet a videographer. An entire tank of gas and a lot of missed sleep later, I'm done. I never want to do that much wedding work in a 3-day period ever again.
The word "budget" is now my biggest enemy, and trying to find cost-effective solutions to one of the most expensive days I will ever participate in is maddening. There are literally hundreds of minute details that have to work perfectly together to make this upcoming day possible. The word "thousand" (as in $1,000) gets thrown around like it's no big deal. Suddenly eloping sounds like a wonderful option.
Megan and I don't get a lot of time together in the first place due to completely conflicting work schedules and a 45-minute drive between us. Now, instead of just getting to hang out every once in a while, we are spending almost all our limited and precious time together going over wedding details.
But...on the other hand, thinking of this day that is now 1 year and 3 months away, is completely joy-inducing. Putting together small pieces that will eventually equal a complete day is like doing a puzzle that I can't wait to see completed. Considering my future with Megan, the thing this day will officialize, makes me wish that it was happening tomorrow. Going through all the trials and difficulties of planning seems like a minuscule task when compared to the end result.
So in the end, weddings are both a worthy adversary, and a welcome friend. So far I wouldn't change anything. I know that no matter how hard things get, or how difficult things feel, in the end it will all be worth it. I simply can't wait to be Megan's husband.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Just something I want to say...
I have recently had some really amazing conversations with people that delved into the area of religion. I love talking about religious ideas. Let me reiterate. I absolutely love getting into deep conversations about "religious" issues. My love, however, is not the stereotypical Bible-thumping, ideal-force-feeding that most people are used to.
And in all truthfulness I feel horrible that I have to make the distinction between amazing conversation/debate and personal-ideal-bashing.
Many, many Christians today are all about luring people into conversation about the sin-nature of humanity only to end up debasing, devaluing, and undermining another's opinions. I find such actions despicable (especially when one's intentions are to get another to such a point where such actions are an option).
There is a difference in attempting to get one into conversation so that both parties can be edified and attempting to get one into conversation with the sole desire to prove the other party wrong at any cost.
So, my point (since I meant for this to be a short and to the point post): I implore you to ignore all the ignorant and stupidly-stubborn Christians out there and to find the educated religious people out there. I will gladly engage in philosophic, religious, scientific conversation with anybody. Yeah, I have religious beliefs; but that does not mean, by any means, that I am willing to ignore reason/logic/truth.
The Christians that most people are aware of are those portrayed by news stations. The ones who show up to the funeral of a gay soldier and scream, "Your son is going to hell!" through a megaphone. That makes me indescribably sad since the true meaning behind what I believe is not (in any way, shape, or form) understood.
For example: If a car company makes a car that I think is unsafe, I have two ways of going about telling people my beliefs. 1) I can stand on a street corner and scream and shout. I can confront people and belittle them for their belief that said car is safe. I can be bold and upfront and (seemingly) crazy about this car's lack of safety. Or 2) I can study, do my research, and come up with indisputable facts. I can then talk to people and show them my findings. If those people have counter-examples, I can take them into account and see if they hold any truth and then inform said people about how they have been fed misinformation.
This is just like the religious debates that happen today. Whether the topic is homosexuality, abortion, gun-control, pornography, health-care, etc, there should be a debate (read: discussion) about the issue. Life is not black and white, and neither is the religious view of these issues (though many would like you to think that it is).
In other words, I apologize on behalf of all the crazies out there. SO many people give religious belief a bad name, and I want to correct that. I realize that this is a losing battle. And I realize that no matter how many people out there are reasonable in their debate methods, there will always be a thousand more willing to ignore reason and stupidly argue for unprovable truths. But...I am still willing to fight to inform people that not every religious person is so ignorant. My end goal? If all the incredibly smart, incredibly logical people out there are willing to have meaningful discussions with the (equally incredibly smart) religious people out there, the end result will be more knowledge and understanding than we had in the first place.
And if knowledge is the end goal, I am all for it.
I have recently had some really amazing conversations with people that delved into the area of religion. I love talking about religious ideas. Let me reiterate. I absolutely love getting into deep conversations about "religious" issues. My love, however, is not the stereotypical Bible-thumping, ideal-force-feeding that most people are used to.
And in all truthfulness I feel horrible that I have to make the distinction between amazing conversation/debate and personal-ideal-bashing.
Many, many Christians today are all about luring people into conversation about the sin-nature of humanity only to end up debasing, devaluing, and undermining another's opinions. I find such actions despicable (especially when one's intentions are to get another to such a point where such actions are an option).
There is a difference in attempting to get one into conversation so that both parties can be edified and attempting to get one into conversation with the sole desire to prove the other party wrong at any cost.
So, my point (since I meant for this to be a short and to the point post): I implore you to ignore all the ignorant and stupidly-stubborn Christians out there and to find the educated religious people out there. I will gladly engage in philosophic, religious, scientific conversation with anybody. Yeah, I have religious beliefs; but that does not mean, by any means, that I am willing to ignore reason/logic/truth.
The Christians that most people are aware of are those portrayed by news stations. The ones who show up to the funeral of a gay soldier and scream, "Your son is going to hell!" through a megaphone. That makes me indescribably sad since the true meaning behind what I believe is not (in any way, shape, or form) understood.
For example: If a car company makes a car that I think is unsafe, I have two ways of going about telling people my beliefs. 1) I can stand on a street corner and scream and shout. I can confront people and belittle them for their belief that said car is safe. I can be bold and upfront and (seemingly) crazy about this car's lack of safety. Or 2) I can study, do my research, and come up with indisputable facts. I can then talk to people and show them my findings. If those people have counter-examples, I can take them into account and see if they hold any truth and then inform said people about how they have been fed misinformation.
This is just like the religious debates that happen today. Whether the topic is homosexuality, abortion, gun-control, pornography, health-care, etc, there should be a debate (read: discussion) about the issue. Life is not black and white, and neither is the religious view of these issues (though many would like you to think that it is).
In other words, I apologize on behalf of all the crazies out there. SO many people give religious belief a bad name, and I want to correct that. I realize that this is a losing battle. And I realize that no matter how many people out there are reasonable in their debate methods, there will always be a thousand more willing to ignore reason and stupidly argue for unprovable truths. But...I am still willing to fight to inform people that not every religious person is so ignorant. My end goal? If all the incredibly smart, incredibly logical people out there are willing to have meaningful discussions with the (equally incredibly smart) religious people out there, the end result will be more knowledge and understanding than we had in the first place.
And if knowledge is the end goal, I am all for it.
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