That's the response, isn't it? When someone reveals that they don't have an ipod/Facebook/lap-top/you name it? I mean, the little white ear-buds do seem to be everywhere, but I had one of those epiphany type moments today as I breezed past a homeless man offering me a flower for some sort of charity with my five dollar coffee in hand and entered into a loud, overly-fragrant orgy of purchasing (otherwise know as a department store).
In reality, no, everyone does not have an ipod. Everyone does not have a home. Everyone does not have food. Everyone does not have water. It's really sad when we get to the point where we live in this little bubble in which everything's ok... so long as we refuse to acknowledge any problems, or justify our cold fronts. For example, immediately after my epiphany I thought to myself "Well, I volunteer" and the rational part of my brain went "Yes, ___, helping white, middle class young girls feel comfortable with themselves because their minds have been poisoned by the media that they're over-exposed to as a result of having five TVs in their over-large house, is a worthy cause". I do believe that helping these young kids is a good thing to do, I think that low self-esteem and all its problems among young girls is a social problem, and I'm obviously exagerrating over the characteristics of these girls. It's just that one can't justify something like denying that there are people who need help, on our streets, that we breeze by every day.
The media does a great job at helping us to "turn the other cheek" portraying the homeless as drug-ridden or crazy or criminals. But not everyone on the street is like this, and even if they were does that mean that they don't deserve the essentials? That they aren't human enough? I have a theory that if everyone above the poverty line (who wasn't one of those "shell" families) gave five-dollars to various organizations working to help these people, or donated one hour of their lives every week to working with the homeless the problem would be remedied. But that will never happen, and homelessness will always be an issue, even in societies of Communism. It is a fact of life, and, in some sociological views, a necessary part of society. Without the poor we could not have the rich and without the rich we could not have a successful economoy. But without a heart we would not be human and without humanity there would be no service.
It's very sad to see people sitting out in the cold, begging, people who once upon a time could have shopped on that very street. People who no one really thinks of as "people" anymore. We just walk by them, and they blend a little further in to the background. I know that there will never be a solution to people's disregard of the poor, but I do believe that everyone has the power to make a difference in at least one person's life. I was not that person today, and I am ashamed of that. The man walking ahead of me who put the apple in a homelessman's hat as he held a sign - "Food?" - was, and that makes me a little more optimistic.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
The Hoe Train.
I'm not even attempting to sensor this one. Should a member of the Hoe Train read this, recognize that it's about them, figure out my identity and subsequently egg my door, well, it would be a freaking miracle. Kinda like the time I saw them studying...
Anyways, I came to name this particular group of people the Hoe Train because of one fateful night as they walked past... in a straight line of orange... dressed similarly in varying degrees of sluttiness. It was great. And it wasn't that I hadn't noticed them before, I mean, every high school has them. The ones with the perma-tans and blonde hair, the straight teeth and matching boys. They wear the tights, the Uggs, the too-big sweaters. At one point they wore the head-to-toe lululemon. What's weird is that they stick out like a sore thumb on a University campus. And it's creepy - er than it was in high school. Sometimes, I have time telling them apart, you'll turn around and they all look the same. It's a little Stepford Wives for my taste.
When I signed on for this whole university experience thing I thought I was rid of the creepy lookalikes, of the reminder that no, you will never be able to pull off those shoes, and of the "blondes". I thought that they corralled them all into things called "sororities" and "fraternities". I was half right.
What I don't get is making friends with people who are just like you. What's the fun in that? So that every time you look up you immediately know what you look like that day? I'm not sure what the appeal is, but I'm much more into this thing called diversity. In fact, I find that I am repelled by people too similar to me - it's boring. I thought the point of going away to school was to meet new people, to try things you haven't before, to be different. Not to duplicate your life (and possibly yourself, this could just a be a long-winded way of describing the Hoe Train's cloning process...). During a discussion with the Nicknamer she brought up the anxiety that one day one of them would melt in her slouchy leather boots and from her puddle would arise two more copies, ready to achieve world domination through zombie brainwashing.
Anyways, I came to name this particular group of people the Hoe Train because of one fateful night as they walked past... in a straight line of orange... dressed similarly in varying degrees of sluttiness. It was great. And it wasn't that I hadn't noticed them before, I mean, every high school has them. The ones with the perma-tans and blonde hair, the straight teeth and matching boys. They wear the tights, the Uggs, the too-big sweaters. At one point they wore the head-to-toe lululemon. What's weird is that they stick out like a sore thumb on a University campus. And it's creepy - er than it was in high school. Sometimes, I have time telling them apart, you'll turn around and they all look the same. It's a little Stepford Wives for my taste.
When I signed on for this whole university experience thing I thought I was rid of the creepy lookalikes, of the reminder that no, you will never be able to pull off those shoes, and of the "blondes". I thought that they corralled them all into things called "sororities" and "fraternities". I was half right.
What I don't get is making friends with people who are just like you. What's the fun in that? So that every time you look up you immediately know what you look like that day? I'm not sure what the appeal is, but I'm much more into this thing called diversity. In fact, I find that I am repelled by people too similar to me - it's boring. I thought the point of going away to school was to meet new people, to try things you haven't before, to be different. Not to duplicate your life (and possibly yourself, this could just a be a long-winded way of describing the Hoe Train's cloning process...). During a discussion with the Nicknamer she brought up the anxiety that one day one of them would melt in her slouchy leather boots and from her puddle would arise two more copies, ready to achieve world domination through zombie brainwashing.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Videogames get all the credit.
And Marilyn Manson.
Aren't those the things that we're trained to believe make kids today inherently violent? That train them to grab their guns, go to school and shoot the bullies? One would think. Or, at least they would if they're a Micheal Moore fan (Bowling for Columbine, anyone?). I am not. I have, however, seen all of his films. Each one (aside from his very first, which no one really remembers or seems to care about - "Roger and Me", check it out) just proves to me that a hypocritical, slightly idiotic American with a vendetta against "the Man" and a video-camera is actually The Worst Idea. Worse than taking a[n alcoholic] drink every time the word 'love' is said in Moulin Rouge (a 2.47 min song has the word 22 times). Micheal Moore, to me, represents most people - people who are taught and raised to point fingers, often in the wrong directions. These people are usually hypocritical. For example, Micheal Moore lives in Manhattan and sends his kid to an expensive private school. So much for helping "the little guy" in Flint, huh? As much as he argues against the system, he buys right into it.
So, back to my point, which, ironically, was one made by Mr. Moore himself.
If anyone is familar with the work of Cormac McCarthy they'll know that as much as he is a fantastic writer, his books are inherently violent and gory, albeit in a very poetic fashion. This, however, does not change the fact that they are probably more violent than any song by a metal artist or videogame created in Silicon Valley. Take Blood Meridian for example - 330 pages of nothing but scalping, shooting, stabbing, necrophelia, you name it. And it was a novel for my university level English class. Now, I know that when people talk about the effects of violence, they are mostly referring to the effects it has on children, but are not all people impressionable? Can't everyone be desensitized, brainwashed, and so on? The last time I checked, yes, they could. So, if at the same time critics are condemning the latest Grand Theft Auto for encouraging rape and violence, why do they not at the same time turn to the grear American authors and question their writing? Why are the minds of kids going into high school questioned and the effects of heavy metal music taken into account, but not literature? It's a double standard of our culture, it would seem. Aristotle's theory of catharsis can be used here - that we visualize violence in order to live out our own urges.
In the end I think that Cormac McCarthy had something right with Blood Meridian - I think that people, while not necessarily inherently violent, are fascinated by violence and the nature of some people to give in to that baser instinct. (Hasn't everyone fantasized about punching someone in the jaw at least once?). It's this fascination that causes people to both retain violent outlets, and point the finger.
Aren't those the things that we're trained to believe make kids today inherently violent? That train them to grab their guns, go to school and shoot the bullies? One would think. Or, at least they would if they're a Micheal Moore fan (Bowling for Columbine, anyone?). I am not. I have, however, seen all of his films. Each one (aside from his very first, which no one really remembers or seems to care about - "Roger and Me", check it out) just proves to me that a hypocritical, slightly idiotic American with a vendetta against "the Man" and a video-camera is actually The Worst Idea. Worse than taking a[n alcoholic] drink every time the word 'love' is said in Moulin Rouge (a 2.47 min song has the word 22 times). Micheal Moore, to me, represents most people - people who are taught and raised to point fingers, often in the wrong directions. These people are usually hypocritical. For example, Micheal Moore lives in Manhattan and sends his kid to an expensive private school. So much for helping "the little guy" in Flint, huh? As much as he argues against the system, he buys right into it.
So, back to my point, which, ironically, was one made by Mr. Moore himself.
If anyone is familar with the work of Cormac McCarthy they'll know that as much as he is a fantastic writer, his books are inherently violent and gory, albeit in a very poetic fashion. This, however, does not change the fact that they are probably more violent than any song by a metal artist or videogame created in Silicon Valley. Take Blood Meridian for example - 330 pages of nothing but scalping, shooting, stabbing, necrophelia, you name it. And it was a novel for my university level English class. Now, I know that when people talk about the effects of violence, they are mostly referring to the effects it has on children, but are not all people impressionable? Can't everyone be desensitized, brainwashed, and so on? The last time I checked, yes, they could. So, if at the same time critics are condemning the latest Grand Theft Auto for encouraging rape and violence, why do they not at the same time turn to the grear American authors and question their writing? Why are the minds of kids going into high school questioned and the effects of heavy metal music taken into account, but not literature? It's a double standard of our culture, it would seem. Aristotle's theory of catharsis can be used here - that we visualize violence in order to live out our own urges.
In the end I think that Cormac McCarthy had something right with Blood Meridian - I think that people, while not necessarily inherently violent, are fascinated by violence and the nature of some people to give in to that baser instinct. (Hasn't everyone fantasized about punching someone in the jaw at least once?). It's this fascination that causes people to both retain violent outlets, and point the finger.
Monday, January 19, 2009
This is not Fluffy.
This is not kindergarten; this is not a fluffy movie about middle school.
When faced with a semi-full cafeteria and no one to eat with, upon spotting a small group or an individual sitting alone, it would seem like the natural thing to go up and ask,
"Can I sit here?"
This is not ok.
You will be faced with seconds full of stony silence, before a hesitant smile breaks across their faces and they go, "Um, sure."
Um, sure. Does that sound inviting to you? Not at all my friends, not at all.
It's not that fraternizing and meeting new people is openly discouraged, it's that outside of the first few weeks people find it weird. Everyone develops a rag-tag group, so when some random comes over to sit with you, your first thought it going to be, "Where are your friends?" followed by, "Oh god, they must be a weirdie."
And now, a short anecdote about a friend of mine.
GD was sitting all by her lonesome waiting for the rest of us to join her and this semi-attractive kind-of-awkard Islander comes over and asks to sit with her. GD being particularly articulate said, "Um, sure." And he sat, we met him and awkward conversation ensued. After a short while he began talking to the people sitting behind us, in a friendly manner. Why would someone sit down when they had a perfectly good group of friends already? Because they're a weirdie. Someone totally non-Conformist and sociable. But, of course, that thought is really not all that neighborly. As such, that was the last most of us heard from him. Except the Nicknamer, who just tends to run into people I've termed "weirdies" all over the place. Conclusion: he became entranced by GD's baby blues and convinced himself he had to meet her.
Which throws him slightly out of the category of "weirdie". But only slightly.
I'm going to try and invent a point to all this now...
As weird as it is, people aren't nearly as sociable as you'd think on campus, and they're even more set in their patterns.
Case in point: My particular group (there are A LOT of us) has a designated location you can always find at least some of us at at any meal time. It's like a very easy Where's Waldo.
It's Where's the Cliques.
When faced with a semi-full cafeteria and no one to eat with, upon spotting a small group or an individual sitting alone, it would seem like the natural thing to go up and ask,
"Can I sit here?"
This is not ok.
You will be faced with seconds full of stony silence, before a hesitant smile breaks across their faces and they go, "Um, sure."
Um, sure. Does that sound inviting to you? Not at all my friends, not at all.
It's not that fraternizing and meeting new people is openly discouraged, it's that outside of the first few weeks people find it weird. Everyone develops a rag-tag group, so when some random comes over to sit with you, your first thought it going to be, "Where are your friends?" followed by, "Oh god, they must be a weirdie."
And now, a short anecdote about a friend of mine.
GD was sitting all by her lonesome waiting for the rest of us to join her and this semi-attractive kind-of-awkard Islander comes over and asks to sit with her. GD being particularly articulate said, "Um, sure." And he sat, we met him and awkward conversation ensued. After a short while he began talking to the people sitting behind us, in a friendly manner. Why would someone sit down when they had a perfectly good group of friends already? Because they're a weirdie. Someone totally non-Conformist and sociable. But, of course, that thought is really not all that neighborly. As such, that was the last most of us heard from him. Except the Nicknamer, who just tends to run into people I've termed "weirdies" all over the place. Conclusion: he became entranced by GD's baby blues and convinced himself he had to meet her.
Which throws him slightly out of the category of "weirdie". But only slightly.
I'm going to try and invent a point to all this now...
As weird as it is, people aren't nearly as sociable as you'd think on campus, and they're even more set in their patterns.
Case in point: My particular group (there are A LOT of us) has a designated location you can always find at least some of us at at any meal time. It's like a very easy Where's Waldo.
It's Where's the Cliques.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
In the case of...
In the case of Friendcest please apply anti-itch powder three times a day and find yourself a new group of friends, because everything is about to blow up in your face.
There's a very legitimate reason that I don't believe in love at first sight, and that reason is something that I've come to call "Friendcest". While the treatment is still in the works, the diagnosis is set in stone. It goes a little like this: a group of people come together and form a bond known as friendship, they spend increasingly more time together, suddenly one member of the group develops romantic feelings for another member, and then another begins to display the same romantic feelings for another person (or maybe the same one, and that's just really complicated). In the end, though, everyone in the group has a thing for someone else in the group, and some of them inevitably start dating until you're coupled off. It is a natural progression and wholly unavoidable. Further, it disproves the notion that there is "love at first sight" when it obviously takes people getting to know each other, becomming closer, and then falling for each other.
But that is actually besides the point. Friendcest is generally problematic because it involves multiple friends developing feelings for the same friend, and then complicated human emotions come into play. As of now, this has happened with two completely different groups of friends I've had over the years. Two. The exact same occurance. Twice. I can make charts of the occurances... in fact, I have.
And no, I am not the original guilty party. I am the guilty party in that I encourage romantic attachment, because it's always nice to see friends happy. And then they get together, form a relationship, and they are happy. For a while.
Then everything changes, and friendships are ripped limb from limb like a Grendal v. Beowulf throwdown. Emotions, alliances, broken hearts, stoney silences - it's everywhere. Sometimes, the group dynamic, or part of it, can be salvaged, and people can get over themselves, but most times, they can't.
Human nature is to become emotionally linked with someone, and it's also human nature to get bored, or tired, or become emotionally involved with someone else. So of course friends fall for friends and people fight and break up - my Psychology textbook tells me humans are volatile creatures. And for once I think it's right.
If you read this and think it's complete BS, then, well, at least you're reading my blog. But if you take one thing away from this, even just one moral lesson, let it be this:
Friendcest is a reality - it could even be happening to you.
There's a very legitimate reason that I don't believe in love at first sight, and that reason is something that I've come to call "Friendcest". While the treatment is still in the works, the diagnosis is set in stone. It goes a little like this: a group of people come together and form a bond known as friendship, they spend increasingly more time together, suddenly one member of the group develops romantic feelings for another member, and then another begins to display the same romantic feelings for another person (or maybe the same one, and that's just really complicated). In the end, though, everyone in the group has a thing for someone else in the group, and some of them inevitably start dating until you're coupled off. It is a natural progression and wholly unavoidable. Further, it disproves the notion that there is "love at first sight" when it obviously takes people getting to know each other, becomming closer, and then falling for each other.
But that is actually besides the point. Friendcest is generally problematic because it involves multiple friends developing feelings for the same friend, and then complicated human emotions come into play. As of now, this has happened with two completely different groups of friends I've had over the years. Two. The exact same occurance. Twice. I can make charts of the occurances... in fact, I have.
And no, I am not the original guilty party. I am the guilty party in that I encourage romantic attachment, because it's always nice to see friends happy. And then they get together, form a relationship, and they are happy. For a while.
Then everything changes, and friendships are ripped limb from limb like a Grendal v. Beowulf throwdown. Emotions, alliances, broken hearts, stoney silences - it's everywhere. Sometimes, the group dynamic, or part of it, can be salvaged, and people can get over themselves, but most times, they can't.
Human nature is to become emotionally linked with someone, and it's also human nature to get bored, or tired, or become emotionally involved with someone else. So of course friends fall for friends and people fight and break up - my Psychology textbook tells me humans are volatile creatures. And for once I think it's right.
If you read this and think it's complete BS, then, well, at least you're reading my blog. But if you take one thing away from this, even just one moral lesson, let it be this:
Friendcest is a reality - it could even be happening to you.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
The Meanest Pie Chart Ever.
Isn't life just better when you AREN'T politically correct?
Life is just funnier when you're not worrying about all the different groups you could be offending.
And this is something that I have actually learned from a university course, and university textbook to be more precise. It came through the revelation of the Meanest Pie Chart Ever. Which turned out to also be the Most Hilarious Pie Chart Ever. I would be a terrible person to use this pie chart as an inside group among my friends. I just felt I should say that so I had acknowledged the fact that I was a terrible person. That pie chart is funny, funny material - I couldn't pass that up.
Posting it on the internet, however, would probably upset large groups of people because it is "offensive", i.e. not politically correct. Let's just say it broke up a certain minority group into categories. Hilarious categories. Categories that were not even trying to be politically correct.
And from that we're back at the fact that life is simply funnier when you are not concerned about who you may be offending, and that apparently includes the writers of textbooks.
The greatest example of being unconcerned with the feelings of others is a man who is renowned, beloved, and hated for being the complete opposite of politically correct. I think the most frequent term used to described him is "royal asshole". I love this man. I bought his book. I read his blog (www.tuckermax.com). I think he is the new definition of genius. That is, he is not intelligent in the traditional sense, but he is smart enough to have tapped into that guilty pleasure that is ingrained within every human being and totally exploited it. Not just anyone will admit to loving this man - leas tof all women. Which should give you an idea of exactly who the main target of his escapades is. What I truly love about Tucker, though, is not just his complete lack of concern for human dignity or sensitivity, it's that he is able to fully admit what he does, and yet is modest and honest enough about it that he doesn't seem malicious. He is simply living his life within the bounds of hilarity. However, at the end of the day, as much as I relish in those inside jokes that have a complete disregard for offensiveness, or the love I have of a man who has a complete lack of humanity and who, if raised differently, may have become a sociopath, I can't be him, and I can't always disregard the feelings of others.
Few people can.
It's ingrained into us by society that we should care for others, for their feelings and differences, and so, as hilarious as the Meanest Pie Chart Ever is, it's still a very cruel pie chart.
Life is just funnier when you're not worrying about all the different groups you could be offending.
And this is something that I have actually learned from a university course, and university textbook to be more precise. It came through the revelation of the Meanest Pie Chart Ever. Which turned out to also be the Most Hilarious Pie Chart Ever. I would be a terrible person to use this pie chart as an inside group among my friends. I just felt I should say that so I had acknowledged the fact that I was a terrible person. That pie chart is funny, funny material - I couldn't pass that up.
Posting it on the internet, however, would probably upset large groups of people because it is "offensive", i.e. not politically correct. Let's just say it broke up a certain minority group into categories. Hilarious categories. Categories that were not even trying to be politically correct.
And from that we're back at the fact that life is simply funnier when you are not concerned about who you may be offending, and that apparently includes the writers of textbooks.
The greatest example of being unconcerned with the feelings of others is a man who is renowned, beloved, and hated for being the complete opposite of politically correct. I think the most frequent term used to described him is "royal asshole". I love this man. I bought his book. I read his blog (www.tuckermax.com). I think he is the new definition of genius. That is, he is not intelligent in the traditional sense, but he is smart enough to have tapped into that guilty pleasure that is ingrained within every human being and totally exploited it. Not just anyone will admit to loving this man - leas tof all women. Which should give you an idea of exactly who the main target of his escapades is. What I truly love about Tucker, though, is not just his complete lack of concern for human dignity or sensitivity, it's that he is able to fully admit what he does, and yet is modest and honest enough about it that he doesn't seem malicious. He is simply living his life within the bounds of hilarity. However, at the end of the day, as much as I relish in those inside jokes that have a complete disregard for offensiveness, or the love I have of a man who has a complete lack of humanity and who, if raised differently, may have become a sociopath, I can't be him, and I can't always disregard the feelings of others.
Few people can.
It's ingrained into us by society that we should care for others, for their feelings and differences, and so, as hilarious as the Meanest Pie Chart Ever is, it's still a very cruel pie chart.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Leaving on a Jet-Plane
University students everywhere are the new jet-setters of the world. And, apparently, the only ones who know how to cross through security effectively.
To answer a few questions I have observed today: Yes, you must baggie-up your liquids. Yes, your lap-top needs it's own container. No, you may not wear your incredibly tacky wallet chain through, sir.
On top of being incredibly infuriating, airports are so unnaturally gross. I can shower half an hour before getting to one, and still feel like I need a shower immediately upon setting foot into one. And it's weird, because you get warned about everything else about airports - getting tazered for example - but not the disturbing level of ick that they bring on.
I would just like to point out here that airports are not nearly as glamorous as they are made out to be in songs/movies/TV and so on and so forth. And it's not the vast amounts of people, or the lines, or the waiting for super delayed flights that make airports so grunge chic. It's that they make you take your shoes off at security.
It wasn't always like this. I remember the days when me and my clunky boots could waltz our way through the annoying beep-y thing (I'm not up-to-date on the airport lingo... obviously.). And now I have to yank off the boots, and walk on the kinda-really-gross floor. I realize that I could have a knife shoved in the heel of a boot, ready to shank the pilots and steal their plane for varying terrorist activities (free flight to Hawaii anyone?). Or maybe not. I don't know, but if I was by some off chance a terrorist I would do things with a little more style than that, and I certainly wouldn't be caught dead walking through the beeping thing without shoes on.
And I would probably know the technical term for the beeping thing. That would be handy.
To answer a few questions I have observed today: Yes, you must baggie-up your liquids. Yes, your lap-top needs it's own container. No, you may not wear your incredibly tacky wallet chain through, sir.
On top of being incredibly infuriating, airports are so unnaturally gross. I can shower half an hour before getting to one, and still feel like I need a shower immediately upon setting foot into one. And it's weird, because you get warned about everything else about airports - getting tazered for example - but not the disturbing level of ick that they bring on.
I would just like to point out here that airports are not nearly as glamorous as they are made out to be in songs/movies/TV and so on and so forth. And it's not the vast amounts of people, or the lines, or the waiting for super delayed flights that make airports so grunge chic. It's that they make you take your shoes off at security.
It wasn't always like this. I remember the days when me and my clunky boots could waltz our way through the annoying beep-y thing (I'm not up-to-date on the airport lingo... obviously.). And now I have to yank off the boots, and walk on the kinda-really-gross floor. I realize that I could have a knife shoved in the heel of a boot, ready to shank the pilots and steal their plane for varying terrorist activities (free flight to Hawaii anyone?). Or maybe not. I don't know, but if I was by some off chance a terrorist I would do things with a little more style than that, and I certainly wouldn't be caught dead walking through the beeping thing without shoes on.
And I would probably know the technical term for the beeping thing. That would be handy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
