Nothing meaningful...

I've already mentioned my theory on blambles (a word I'm still hoping to see take off), but those depend on having an actual topic to start with.

So, now I am in a situation that doesn't have a word - I have no idea where to start. I just feel like I should say something.

Despite an utter lack of topic, and realizations, um, realized in former posts, I still feel I need to come up with something profound.

The thing is, there's no shortage of topics to discuss. In fact, there's so much information out there, that I often feel inclined to curl up in a ball and revert to a child-like state.

Then again, attempts to revert to my childhood have often reslted in disappointment. Scooby-Doo just doesn't have the same oomph that it did when I was six. And Knight Rider is laughable.

That's part of why I'm afraid to watch reruns of another childhood favorite, the Dukes of Hazzard. CMT just announced a "job opening" where you will be paid $100K to watch Dukes reruns and write a daily blog for a year. Plus, you get to travel to events.

Dukes VP

Now, I don't mind blogging(duh), I don't mind watching TV, and I don't mind travel. But am I willing to risk my untarnished memories of good old boys and their hot cousin? I tried it with Knight Rider, Scooby, and various other embarassing-to-admit shows, mostly to glum results. Few TV shows remain untarnished. I'm not sure I'm ready to do that to one of my favorites.

The TV shows of my childhood may have lost their lustre (the -re makes it fancy), but the movies and music from those years are even better now than they were then. I've debated why this is and have it down to three possibilities:

1) At 6, I could choose my own TV shows, but typically watched the movies and listened to the music my parents were consuming. In the case of music, this meant I didn't hear much 80s music as a kid, so I have no unrealistic expectations. In the case of the films, I was usually watching adult movies anyway. (The one movie I remember dragging my parents to, and really wanting to see, no longer appeals to me as much - though many people still find E.T. a great movie, I just can't bear it.)

2) The movies made when I was a kid, I didn't begin watching until I was a teen, and therefore made choices more in tune with the person I would become. So, while at 6 I might have hated Breakfast club, at 16 I identified and loved it and kept that love until adulthood

or

3)The music and movies that I can get today are ones that have survived and are therefore inherently better than other things that came out during that time. Though, if Footloose was a cultural high point of the time, then maybe we should forget the 80s altogether.


Regardless of the reasoning, I still like most of that 80s crap. In fact, my well of movie quotes seems to be filled with a disproportionate amount of 80s quotes (particualrly from the Princess Bride).

I guess what I'm trying to explain is that sometimes the past doesn't hold up when looked at from the present, but other times there's a reason you miss it. I don't know how much meaning this has in life outside pop culture, but, well, I didn't even have a topic 5 minutes ago.

Fox "News"

I am not a fan of the Fox News Channell. I watched them long enough to make an informed opinion and decided that they must make half the stuff up and sensationalize the rest. (Arguments that they are merely an antidote to the liberal media hold no water with me as I don't believe in the mythological liberal media. The person who signs the paychecks at most media outlets is typically a wealthy conservative. The person who signs the paychecks also controls what happens. Therefore, what happens at a most media outlets is controlled by conservatives.)

So, I was directed to a posting on Mediabistro.com. The ad can be found here:

http://www.mediabistro.com/joblistings/jobview.asp?joid=22553

If you don't have an account there, they are free, but I've pasted the important parts below:

WANTED:Fact Writer

FOX News Channel, a fast-paced 24-hour television news operation in New York City, is seeking a Fact Writer for its information center.

Responsibilities include writing on-air facts and press conference quotes for daytime programming.

Seems that FNC does not have reporters, who would actually have to base their writing on real facts, but instead employs people who just write their own facts and press conference quotes. Now I know they're making it up.

Snow day

The weather outside is frightful, and yet I still had to go to work.

Remmber the anticipation after a major winter storm - flipping between radio stations and tv channels trying to make sure, really sure, that your school hadn't been cancelled yet?

I used to feel sorry for people down in Florida who'd never seen a snow day. How could they ever understand the wonder of scraping together a snowball when you should be scraping away with a pencil?

Then I heard a story from a friend of mine who moved a great deal growing up. By the time he graduated college, he'd lived in approximately 39 cities scattered throughout the country (with one stop in a small Pacific Island country). Among the places he piled his possessions (allitteration rocks!) was the Sunshine State.

He told me a tale of one winter day in elementary school. Evidently it had gotten rather cold in Florida that night (cold being a relative temprature, in this case probably like 32). he arrived at his classroom, having lived in colder states to the north he didn't think anything of the cold weather, he arrived to find everyone excited about the weather. Kids and teacher alike were marvelling over the frosted landscape. Eventually, the teachers attempted to regain some semblance of order, only to fail.

what happened next has always been a surreal scene in my mind. Usually played back in slow motion with some early 90s pop-grunge - Meat Puppets or James or something - accompaniament. To those of us just about everywehre else, frost is a part of life. It happens. To them, it was a major event. The teachers, having failed to gain the attention of the classroom, resorted to the age old method of letting the kids tire themselves out on the playground. So imagine - in slow motion with poppy guitar playing in the background - a group of kids in overly heavy coats sliding across the frosted grass. Laying on their backs on the lawn and attempting snow angels and trying to scrape together enough frost to make a snow ball.


I no longr feel sorry for Floridians, as I'm here enjoying the 13 degree days of snow and they're stuck sweating it out with a tropical drink and short sleeves on the deck of boat in February. No, I no longer feel sorry for these poor souls, because I know that, deep down beneath the layers of suntan oil, even they are enjoying a snow day.

"We don't exist" - Meat Puppets

Another post. This blambling is addictive.

(Sorry, I'm enjoying the word I made up this morning. Now that someone else has acknowledged it, I have this feeling of responsiblity. When I go home tonight and my cat asks me what I did today - she's incredibly articulate for a rescued tabby - I'll be able to answer, with pride, "coined a term.")

So, I think I'm a character in somebody's mind. Some aspiring novelist is out there trying to creat me and I come out in this blog.

Really, for all you know I could be. (Though I would like to question what exactly this writer hopes to accomplish with this blog and ask if I might request some superpowers or something)

That's the thing, if a person isn't in front of you, how do you know you didn't make them up?

"I think, therefore I am," but what about you? (If Descartes is accurate, how does one explain the current president? Since he doesn't think, he shouldn't be, yet... sorry, I'll try to keep bush-bashing to a minimum)

And on the same note, how do you know they're dead? What if they're just on an extended vacation?

This is why I don't worry much about death. Thank you Rene. I feel that those people I lost are just enjoying Tuscany, alot. Granted, I'm a little miffed at their lack of e-mail and postcards, but maybe they're having too much fun (fun translates in Italain to Vino).

And, in case you were wondering, I have lost loved ones. Man, I wish they would send a postcard alreeady.

what I should think

I have a group of friends that are of a certain type. Well, we are diverse in many ways - race, gender, orientation, financial, pairing, background - but generally we belong into that category of people that think we know it all. Bush is bad, consumerism is bad, diversity is good, no more war, sushi - yum, etc.

basically, intelelctual liberals.

One of the tenents of this group is open-mindedness, yet there are certain things that are held to be givens and disagreeing will get you shunned. Now I agree with most of these: I'm not a fan of Bush; believe anyone should be able to marry anyone else (given that they gain approval from any current spouses and are not closely related); and don't care who my friends are, as long as I like them.

But, some of the things I disagree with: For instance, I hate the New York Times - I find them to be elitist and to have totally lost the mission of a newspaper which is to serve the readers (not the fou-fou readers, all the readers); while I do like indie and foreign films, I don't think subtitles or a small CGI-budget make a movie inherently better (witness Incredibles which was one of my favorites of last year); I'm not inherently against war or death - a topic I'll get into someday; and I like violent video games - they're great stress relief.

So where is this all leading? How can supposedly open-minded people, willing to examine all sides of an issue before making a decision, still be interested in the I-Pod shuffle? Wait, okay, that annoys me, but I'm not here to talk about Pod people.

The thing is, how can hypocrisy of this magnitude not be noticed? You're either open-minded, meaning you do not automatically condemn any action until you've examined as much of the story as possible or you are as bad as the people you so often disdain.

That's that for now. More on the I-Pods later.

Excitement (for me at least)

I have recently recieved proof, in the form of several comments, that other people are seeing this blog. In fact, there are at least 2, possibly 3 people who have read my blambles.

Now, for the non-blogger this may seem like no big deal. after all, "aren't these blogs put up to be read?" asks the non-blogger. Certainly, there is always the chance that they will be read. Otherwise, why post at all? But for me, at least, that's not the driving force. More on that in a second.

The point is, the one that I started making and will now continue, that I have been read. People, complete strangers even, have found my words moving enough to respond. Now maybe this is politeness. Maybe blogging is a disease and once you start typing you have to type everywhere. Or maybe, we aren't alone in the world. (That last one may be a bit of a stretch from point A to point 6,734 but it's one I'm willing to make.)

Regardless of the reason, it's exciting to know that this is more than just typing to myself.

Of course, I'd always hoped it would be more than typing to myself (this is getting to that whole reason thing). I started my blog for a couple of reasons.

But the all-encompassing, awe-inspiring, all-powerful reason is me. I want to make myself. Not discover, make.

It really began on my 26th birthday. The first truly meaningless birthday. Explanation: birthdays always count when your a kid, they're still new. Then you hit thirteen and youre almost a teenager. Then it's just a few years to sixteen (or fifteen in New Mexico, Maine and a few other states) which means driving! Okay, 18 = adulthood. 19 means it's almost the end of the teens. At 20 you've survived two decades, you can more or less take care of yourself. Do I really have to mention the allure of 21? drinking whatever, wehenever. The early 20s kind of dwindle in importance until 25, which means cheap car insurance (hey, that stuff's expensive). And then? What's next? Don't tell me thirty, because by thirty you're beginning to feel old and mark time. It's just one more decade piled on. Really, 50 is kind of a landmark (terms like century can now come into play), but not really something most people look forward to. Retirement is no longer a set age, though the Senior discounts at 60-something are a draw to some. Really, birthdays just aren't as much fun after 25.

So, at 26 I realized it was time to re-examine me. I wasn't going to settle for being a mere collection of my memories and experiences. I was going to examine my world, compare it to other people's worlds. Re-examine my beliefs, perhaps scrap them and choose the ones I liked. It was time to take all the lessons I'd learned, the things I'd done, what I'd been told and what I'd made up and put it in nice neat piles and choose waht I wanted to keep. Kind of like making a trip to Goodwill, but for the soul (or whatever it is that thinks - hyperintelligent mice, sentient shades of green, robots, ghosts, whatever).

And you know what friends and neighbors? That just isn't easy. First off, the cat kept jumping up on the table and knowcking over the piles. And then, what do I want to keep? I immediately threw out religion. It just never made sense anyway. I'd find God (or green/Mr. robot/Casper/whatever) my own way. done. But what about the other things? Am I embarassed to admit to watching the OC and the WB because I think they're uncool, or because people tell me they're uncool? (they probably are uncool, but the jury's still out) Why do I think choclate tastes good? (still working on that one, but I like it so it stayed) Am I for gay marriage becuase it's politically correct, or because I actually support it?(well, that one was easy, I actually support it) And why do I insist on putting my jeans on one leg at a time? Practicallity or habit?

These questions are chosen in part for their humor value (a favored mode of communication that will stay with the new me), but also because they were all I could think of on short notice. But I did have many real questions, and I still do.

And I had only one answer. 42... no, wait, that's a book. the only answer was this blog. A chance to explore how I see the world and, hopefully, see how others see how I see the world (or something like that).

and that's why I'm so excited. So, to any readers: thank you. And a special thank you to Spider and Laura, the first two to enter my world. (Um, hope that it isn't a total faux pas to thank people for commenting in your blog. If it is, well, maybe I should examine that too).

Blamble

Today I will coin a new term (not that this will actually work, if you try to coin a termo or phrase the general public usually detects your effort and rejects the coinage).

term of the day: Blamble

blamble - the resulting post when a blogger begins typing and wanders among his/her thoughts. origins: blog, ramble

So, why do we so often blamble?

I see several likely causes:

1)We are ramblers anyway, and just translate it to the blogs (I, myself, am not typically a rambler. I present myself as a manof purpose and d... okay, I probably ramble. alot. really alot.)

2) many bloggers start posting with no specific topic in mind. On occasion they (read I) have a topic but aren't sure how they feel about it. This is not innately bad. Afterall, in the words of Aerosmith, "life's a journey not a destination." And the journey is sometimes a hell of a lot more fun than the destination - think how much fun the commute to wrk would be if you weren't thinking about the work at the end of the tunnel. So, these bloggers will begin typing on a topic and work out how they feel about it along the way. I often end completely different than I began because of this.

3)Familiarity. Let's face it, you're either using a web interface, a word processing program, or your e-mail to blog. these are programs you communicate through everyday. they are so familiar, it's almost like talking to yourself (which is why I use completely different e-mail programs for work e-mail and personal e-mail. not sure many people would apprciate my sense of humor professionally. good to keep those separate). So, in talking to yourself, do you follow any English class structure? No, you just think. (Okay, I just think, maybe you do have structure to your internal monologue, like some fixed-camera sitcom star, but I tend to jump around like rat on the third rail.) And that's how many of us type these blambles, we just think and type. I make a point to edit none but the most glaring errors.

4) It all has to do with the motivation behind blogging. some people blog to provide counter-media information. others, blog as a kind of ongoing Christmas letter to their long-distance frends and families. Blamblers blog because they are on a journey of self-exploration. (though not all exploring bloggers are blamblers). and then there's me.

But that's another post.

those who can't...

So, I've been inspired by another blog:

pocketspider.blogspot.com

The thing about Spider's blog is, in my mind, it's a friend's blog. If I was to reference it, it would be something like "my friend spider wrote about this thing..."

But if you asked him about Phil, he would be like, "Phil?" (Unless, of course, he has a friend named Phil, in which case he might be a little confused). We live in the same boro of New York. Maybe we even see each other on the trains sometimes. (though he seems to ride the N and I ride the R, so maybe not). And I know him - through his blog - better than most other people.

The thing is, his blog is so honest and personal and... well, for lack of a better, less cliche word, deep. I think it's posts like his that made me believe I needed to be profound and such in my blog.

But then, that's the way human nature works, isn't it? We find someone who does things we wish we could and then we feel compelled to emulate them. To put them above us the perfect being. We strive to someday accomplish our own works that will rival theirs. And then, if we actually succeed in surpassing our mentor (whether they be knowing or unknowing mentors is irrelevant), we are inevitably disappointed in this mere mortal who was bested by the likes of us. Mentor is a no-win situation.

Actually, this is why we don't appreciate teachers. "Those who can't do teach." It's hard to resist falling into the trap of underappreciating someone who works for lousy pay and little appreciation... but, at the same time, this is probably the single most important profession in history.

Everything we, as both individuals and a society, know has been taught. Some of the teachings have been horribly wrong (intolerance, superstition, flat earth), but the end result is generally right.

Where would Alexander have ended up wihtout Aristotle? Michaelangelo without Ghirlandaio? Arthur without Merlin? etc.

The student may often surpass the student, but the student is nothing without the teacher. okay, so this post has been weaving in and out of topic. I guess, what I'm trying to say is that teachers - in all forms, from people we admire and emulate to the professionals who made us write vocabulary words and read Dickens, and let's not forget parents (our first and most influential techers) - are a large part of why we are who we are.

So, appreciate them. If you are disappointed when they aren't as superhuman as you thought, maybe it's that you're better than expected. Give them a break, give them a hug, give them some appreciation.


And now for something completely different:

I just used the spell check for the first time. I normally want to keep these pure with all the inherent mistakes I type. but, appreciation was giving me some concern, soI spell checked. That's when I noticed, my blog spell-checker, the one built into the blog by the blog company. well, it doesn't recognize the word blog. There's either something deeply telling about human self-knowledge, or just something extremely silly in that.

Falling tree

So, I have committed the most common crime of the new century: wasting internet space.

I started this blog and then quit using it. I apologize. I think this my lack of participation has something to do with the belief that each post should be either preposterously profound, or at least offer some valuable insight into the human condition.

Then I heard the now cliche philisophical query: If a tree falls in the woods, and there's no on there to hear it, does it make a sound/noise?

And I got to thinking, which is never a good thing, and answered the question.

Along the way, I began to wonder, "if a man posts a blog, and there's no one there to read it, does he have a responsibility to the non-existent reader?" So, I've decided to just type. After all, I started this thing to put my thoughts in order.

(Note to Googlers: I have no idea what random search has linked you to this blog, but it probably doesn't offer the insight you desire)


Before I go, back to the tree. The tree does make a sound, but not a noise.

Explanation:

sound is a scientific certainty. The tree, by moving quickly downward and colliding with the ground, will cause a displacement of air that will result in sound. This is just basic science and requires no observer.

Noise, however, is qualitative. To paraphrase Webster's: Noise is a sound, especially of a non-musical or unpleasant quality. The key word is quality. Quality requires judgement, which reguires someone to judge. Therefore, you can not have a noise without someone to observe whether the noise is pleasnt or not. No one to hear, no noise. That simple.

Next time, I tackle the age old question about chicken and eggs...or perhaps I'll just type whatever's in my mind. after all, it doesn't matter.