So, in the last post I made, (right down there, do you see it?) I mentioned all the podcasts I listen to on a regular basis.
That is random back story to what I wanted to share here:
I was listening to one of the shorts on RadioLab and they were talking about talent versus training and basically what constitutes a genius. And the expert in the field (a nueroscientist that writes a lot of popular books. I can't come up with his name off the top of my head. I should go back and relisten to that podcast to get the info right.) was basically saying that the popular conception of what genius is is incorrect.
He said basically anyone can perform a task at a "genius level" if they practice that task for 10,000 hours. He said that to him, the definition of a genius is just someone who so loves what they do that they are constantly thinking about it, practicing it, and trying it out in different ways, and that innate abilities only accounts for so much.
Ok. I prob should go re-listen to it now to be sure I got all that right.
Anyhow, after listening to that, I thought I would set myself the goal of producing 10,000 hours of creative writing. This is a lot. >.<
So I was thinking of starting with the 10,000 hrs number and then every time I work on a piece I can subtract the approximate amount of time I've spent on it.
With the ultimate goal being to greatly, dramatically improve my craft by the end of the 10,000.
Who knows how long it will take to accomplish this goal, but I think it's possible, and not unreasonable.
I definitely need practice just writing.
And finishing pieces. That's the worst for me. I can start a million snipets, but finishing them....that's something entirely different.
Edit: The podcast is RadioLab and the title, if you're interesting in listening for yourself is "Shorts: Secrets of Success" and is from 7/26/10.
The scientists name is Malcom Gladwell, and those books I mentioned are "Outliers" and "Blink."
Robert (host): "The question was how do you explain people of really exceptional, unusual talent?...What is the nature of being exceptional?"
Ok so to be more specific, what Malcom Gladwell actually says is that there are a number of factors of success that are beyond your control
He gives a few examples about how birthdays majorly affect success in a number of fields, for example on an average professional hockey team 17 out of 25 players are born in Jan - March, and he explains why that is. To be brief, when they first start all star teams at about age 8/9, the best kids would be the oldest, since they're pretty much the same. So the coaches always pick the kids with birthdays closest to the cutoff date (first 3 mths of the year) and then give them extra training. This continues until with all the extra training and attention after a few years, those chosen kids really are the best. This is called the Matthew effect from the biblical quote "To he who has much, more will be given".
Robert: "So, there is such a thing as getting an accidental boost,...but there's something even bigger and more important than good luck..."
The example for this is Bill Gates the "so-called genius behind Microsoft". Why so-called? (I'm paraphrasing Gladwell here ~>)When he was in 8th grade, for reasons no one can now remember, a parent bought the kids in the classroom he was in a computer that, instead of using cards (a very time consuming process that didn't allow real time programming feedback) could actually do this real time programming. So right away in 8th grade, Bill Gates has this advantage, but then at 15 he seeks out more programming time and finds out there's computers at the UW that were free to use from 2 - 6 am on weeknights. So what he does is every night, he sneaks out of his bedroom and goes and does this programming from 2-6 am every night, comes back, goes back to bed, and goes to school where he programs some more.
Gladwell: "So he's clearly a brilliant guy, and no one's taking that away from him, but he has this other thing, which, by the way, what's really remarkable about that story to me is: that when he does that, he's 15. So, he's a teenage boy and so, all of us here, know about teenage boys, right? Well, what does a teenage boy want to do?...Well, what is one of the things a teenage boy wants to do? Sleep!! Right? Here's a teenage boy who's willing to surrender his sleep, 5 nights a week, to program from 2 - 6 in the morning.
That! is what's special about Bill Gates."
Robert: "And it accumulates, right? It's 3, no, 4 hours a day, then 5 hours a day, and when he can make it, 6 hours a day and for years and years and years, now. Until he clocks in a lot of hours.....And Mozart I guess played the piano for lots of hours, and Tiger Woods just used to play golf for-"
Gladwell "-These people are all examples of what's called the 10,000 hour rule.Which is this notion that, a brilliant guy named Erickson, a psychologist, has kind of formulated this principle that if you look at any kind of cognitively complex discipline, it seems, almost without exception, that in order to be good, you must practice at least 10,000 hours."
Robert: "What sort of surprises me is that you put the Beatles on this list. Why are the Beatles-"
Gladwell: "-Because they go to Hamburg, before they come to America, as teenagers they go to Hamburg and they play, uh, they're the house band for this strip club and they play eight hour sets, seven days a week, for months at a stretch.
I mean it's incredible, you know, parenthetically one can not imagine a more dismal experience than playing, first of all, than playing in a strip club, but secondly playing in a strip club in Hamburg, and thirdly, playing in a strip club in Hamburg, in the fifties. I mean, can you imagine?"
Robert (paraphrasing): Yeah but there were other bands who didn't do that that you know, and bands that did do that who you don't know.
Gladwell (he jumbles the line initially): "It's a necessary but not a sufficient" (aka to be good you must have the 10,000 hrs, but it's not always enough to just have the 10,000 hrs.)
Robert: ".......so you have this talent + the persistence versus this Matthew effect, with the Matthew effect you start out with these little accidental differences and then coaches and situations magnify them so they get bigger and bigger, but with persistence, what seems to be happening here is that the accidental differences that may have given you advantages get narrowed when you add the practice, add the practice, add the practice.
Mozart at 13? Eh, you know, copying other people's work...practice, practice, practice, practice, Mozart at 17, better, Mozart 23/24, oh my god.So, Lennon and McCartney, eh, at 15/16/17 - but, when they make their jumps, they make leaps of a genius nature. Leaps that are not available to other people.
Issac Newton, he goes home for vacation, thinks about, 'oh, how am I gonna measure this?' - He invents calculus!
So, you are being accused of being a genius denier. Are you a genius denier or are you simply a genius dis-liker?"
Gladwell: "So, well, uh, there's really this thing called 'talent.' And (lots of stuttering) it's the magic dust, that gets sprinkled onto persistence, it turns a lot of hard work into something great, and the question is, how large a role does it play, and what does it consist of?"
(paraphrasing) I wrote this piece for the New Yorker, about reading a biography on Wayne Gretzky...greatest hockey player in the world...and he's 2 years old and watching hockey on TV and he cries every time the game ended.
"This is a glimpse into his future greatness, because, here he was at 2, and he loved this thing so, I mean he couldn't even play hockey, come on, he's two, he could barely walk, but he already has understood that he loves this thing so much, that, for it to end, is an unconscionable burden. It's like the world is ending and he's desconsolate.
So, what is Wayne Gretzky's talent? Well, part of it is his extrodinary vision, his coordination, his whatever, but, a lot of it is this guy loves this game so much, that he would do nothing but do it and think about it and engage it and do all those things. Now, is this magic dust called 'talent', is that all it is? Maybe. I don't think that's denying or hating genius though. I think that that definition of genius is far more appealing to me, than the notion that it's this, it's simply some sky-high IQ or -"
Robert: "This is the genius that just won't quit. It won't quit you.....It's the love of hockey....that will not speak its name."
Gladwell: "Why are people so hostile to the notion that what genius is, is an extraordinary love for a particular thing? We hear the ability definition of genius - the rare ability definition, and we think 'oh that's so plausible, totally, that's what it is.' But then we hear the extraordinary love definition of genius and we say 'He's a genius denier. Why are we so hostile to the notion that what separates the genius from the rest of us is that the genius loves what he or she does more than we do, but we have no problem at all that what separates a genius is that they have some some-"
(Robert cuts him off. But you've got the point, now right? )
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Podcast Special
So, I have a long commute to and from work every day (about 40 mins there and 30 back, give or take 10 mins for traffic conditions) and I almost never listen to music, actually. But instead I listen to podcasts.
Here's a list of the Podcasts I lurve to listen to:
This American Life (from NPR) - weekly hour long shows on completely random but always fascinating topics. It's so good I can't even bring myself to delete the episodes from my iTunes after listening to them.
Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me! (also NPR) - "The NPR news quiz game show" with a humorous slant. This show has yet to fail in the make-me-laugh-out-loud category. It's also a weekly hour long show. Informative and hilarious. My favorite game is where the "contestants" (comedians and newspeople like Mo Rocca) make up 3 implausible news stories (one of which is actually true) and a regular person caller has to guess which is the real news story.
RadioLab (also airs on NPR) - This is a really awesome science based show that picks a question or topic, interviews top scientists of the field on that topic, and presents that information in a un-dumbed-down but still wholly understandable way. Basically every episode gives you a deep "hunh" or "no way" or "brain melt" moment where everything you thought you knew about how the world and people work.....isn't exactly right.
Stuff You Should Know (from Howstuffworks.com which is owned by Discovery) - this podcast is kinda the halfway point between "This American Life" and "RadioLab" in that it looks at a seemingly random array of topics that are always totally fascinating and it applies science to break things down and explain it to you. Also, they are pretty funny. This is the podcast that got me addicted to podcasts.
Stuff Mom Never Told You (also Howstuffworks) - deals with issues pertaining primarily to young women and/or feminists and such. The "women's issues" podcast and deals with everything from "are men better at video games than women" to economic issue to sex & dating topics of interest. I'd say this is the first "be in the mood" podcast on the list. Whereas the ones above I will listen to anytime in any mood and get carried away by them, this one and the ones below are more every now and then podcasts, not back to back for hours podcasts.
Stuff You Missed in History Class (also Howstuffworks) - This is just what the title implies, a podcast on various history topics, preferably ones that are under-covered in regular history courses. They do do popular topics as well, and, unless you're already an expert in the subject, they'll give you more and new interesting info. Sometimes the podcast can be a little dry, but generally, it's very interesting and they often have really fun topics. They just did one on Jewish Pirates and another on Women Pirates and they've got lots of series on Monarchs that are really interesting.
A Way With Words (NPR again) - This is definitely not a podcast for all or for continuous listening, but my pedantic self really enjoys it. :) It goes into the etymology of words and phrases, mostly they have callers that say "my grandma used to say such and such and where did that come from" or "my wife and I argue of the correct meaning/pronounciation of X". I love that kind of stuff.
WireTap (with Jonathan Goldstein) (from CBC Radio...aka Canadian NPR) - This is such a funny clever unique show. It's about Jonathan and the quirky conversations he has with his crazy friends, their misadventures, and sometimes really interesting short fiction stories. It's one Danny and I were addicted to listening to on the actual radio, when I was still in WA.
This one is only at the bottom of the list because as far as I can tell all the podcasts are reruns that I've heard before. I haven't gone through them all yet, though.
I also have a bunch of language podcasts, but I've yet to get myself to listen to them. Basically, I downloaded a ton of them a couple years ago and haven't returned to them since. I've been meaning to get around to those, since I think it'd help if I actually want to get a handle on French/Japanese. But there are literally HUNDREDS of episodes of the above podcasts that are so......more fascinating.
I'm almost up to date with all of them, though, from about a year of listening in the car and around the house and working out.
Here's a list of the Podcasts I lurve to listen to:
This American Life (from NPR) - weekly hour long shows on completely random but always fascinating topics. It's so good I can't even bring myself to delete the episodes from my iTunes after listening to them.
Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me! (also NPR) - "The NPR news quiz game show" with a humorous slant. This show has yet to fail in the make-me-laugh-out-loud category. It's also a weekly hour long show. Informative and hilarious. My favorite game is where the "contestants" (comedians and newspeople like Mo Rocca) make up 3 implausible news stories (one of which is actually true) and a regular person caller has to guess which is the real news story.
RadioLab (also airs on NPR) - This is a really awesome science based show that picks a question or topic, interviews top scientists of the field on that topic, and presents that information in a un-dumbed-down but still wholly understandable way. Basically every episode gives you a deep "hunh" or "no way" or "brain melt" moment where everything you thought you knew about how the world and people work.....isn't exactly right.
Stuff You Should Know (from Howstuffworks.com which is owned by Discovery) - this podcast is kinda the halfway point between "This American Life" and "RadioLab" in that it looks at a seemingly random array of topics that are always totally fascinating and it applies science to break things down and explain it to you. Also, they are pretty funny. This is the podcast that got me addicted to podcasts.
Stuff Mom Never Told You (also Howstuffworks) - deals with issues pertaining primarily to young women and/or feminists and such. The "women's issues" podcast and deals with everything from "are men better at video games than women" to economic issue to sex & dating topics of interest. I'd say this is the first "be in the mood" podcast on the list. Whereas the ones above I will listen to anytime in any mood and get carried away by them, this one and the ones below are more every now and then podcasts, not back to back for hours podcasts.
Stuff You Missed in History Class (also Howstuffworks) - This is just what the title implies, a podcast on various history topics, preferably ones that are under-covered in regular history courses. They do do popular topics as well, and, unless you're already an expert in the subject, they'll give you more and new interesting info. Sometimes the podcast can be a little dry, but generally, it's very interesting and they often have really fun topics. They just did one on Jewish Pirates and another on Women Pirates and they've got lots of series on Monarchs that are really interesting.
A Way With Words (NPR again) - This is definitely not a podcast for all or for continuous listening, but my pedantic self really enjoys it. :) It goes into the etymology of words and phrases, mostly they have callers that say "my grandma used to say such and such and where did that come from" or "my wife and I argue of the correct meaning/pronounciation of X". I love that kind of stuff.
WireTap (with Jonathan Goldstein) (from CBC Radio...aka Canadian NPR) - This is such a funny clever unique show. It's about Jonathan and the quirky conversations he has with his crazy friends, their misadventures, and sometimes really interesting short fiction stories. It's one Danny and I were addicted to listening to on the actual radio, when I was still in WA.
This one is only at the bottom of the list because as far as I can tell all the podcasts are reruns that I've heard before. I haven't gone through them all yet, though.
I also have a bunch of language podcasts, but I've yet to get myself to listen to them. Basically, I downloaded a ton of them a couple years ago and haven't returned to them since. I've been meaning to get around to those, since I think it'd help if I actually want to get a handle on French/Japanese. But there are literally HUNDREDS of episodes of the above podcasts that are so......more fascinating.
I'm almost up to date with all of them, though, from about a year of listening in the car and around the house and working out.
Friday, March 4, 2011
SM Universe fiction
So, hey guys....Is it still cool to write fanfiction?
lawl.
I've had snippets of an epic (in scope, not necessarily awesomeness) Sailor Moon Silver Millennium fic in my head recently. Like lying awake in bed, unable to drift off to sleep, because pieces of conversation, images from scenes, and potiential lols keep popping in to say hi, in my head.
I should just decide to do it. As soon as I pick up pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard? So much less poetic) the voices in my head go silent.
SAD FACE.
And then with this particular project there is another issue. Unlike the dizzy childish fantasies of fame, fortune, publication that go along with every other drabble that spirals through my mind, fanfiction is in a category all its own for time wasted.
I miss the good ole days.
When the internet was rife with literary creativity and there were more fic authors than grains of sand inexplicably itching their way against your skin after a day at the beach.
When even really talented people wrote pages and pages of delicious fan service. (Big Wish, First Truths, Final Truths....Lilac Summers, m'dear, you were a huuuge part of that time in my life.)
When I was 12/13, back in those heady early days of the internet, the days of geocities, aol homepages, the frames/no frames entrance questionnaire, "professional looking" sites of black background, colored text, and looots of sparkling or animated gifs and icons, in those days I used to have at least 12 different sites memorized, just for first season Sailor Moon fanfiction.
There was so much fiction you could find a dozen sites dedicated to every subset of SM possible.
A dozen here just for the Scouts + Generals.
A dozen more there just for alternate pairings (barrrrfffffffff) ("I cried when I put the colored contacts in your eyes, ChibiUsa...to hide your violet eyes...to hide that you were my [Sailor Mars] child"....or even worse when it's Pluto. >:| Grrrrrrr)
12 more just for Crystal Tokyo (unless you're in love with the little pink haired devil or her counterpart, the incestuous Black Lady, almost all of these were to be avoided)
A baker's dozen of delicious delicious breakup arc angst (and also one hilarious fic wherein Mamrou/Darien gets irradiated by a youma at some point and is infertile, so the future Neo Queen Serenity has to travel back in time to get*it*onnnn with a Mamrou from a time before in order to conceive the little pink sugar heart attack. So in this version, the explanation for Mamrou's temporary breakup with Usagi?....He was cheating on her.....with herself....from the future.)
Now, I don't believe there are 12 sites all together on the entirety of the net that still dedicate themselves to collecting SM fiction.
And the couple sites that are still around, the quality really, truly, objectively is far below the average standard of the day.
Also, Alternate Universe (and a million other things) should be up there, too. Al and I always disagreed over those. I ravenously tore through them and defended them to the utmost, provided the characters were, well, in character, and Allie thought they may as well be wholly original since they bore so little resemblance to the standard SM Universe.
I thought that was part of the charm, but knew that she was also right.
Sadly, almost all of the best authors, from every genre, agreed with that prescription and left to pursue original fic (or real life undertakings).
Thus marked the beginning of the end of the magic.
Whenever I think about fic, there are still a couple unfinished sagas that come to mind and bring along the nostalgic mourning.
The golden age of fanfiction.
You will be forever cherished and missed.
lawl.
I've had snippets of an epic (in scope, not necessarily awesomeness) Sailor Moon Silver Millennium fic in my head recently. Like lying awake in bed, unable to drift off to sleep, because pieces of conversation, images from scenes, and potiential lols keep popping in to say hi, in my head.
I should just decide to do it. As soon as I pick up pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard? So much less poetic) the voices in my head go silent.
SAD FACE.
And then with this particular project there is another issue. Unlike the dizzy childish fantasies of fame, fortune, publication that go along with every other drabble that spirals through my mind, fanfiction is in a category all its own for time wasted.
I miss the good ole days.
When the internet was rife with literary creativity and there were more fic authors than grains of sand inexplicably itching their way against your skin after a day at the beach.
When even really talented people wrote pages and pages of delicious fan service. (Big Wish, First Truths, Final Truths....Lilac Summers, m'dear, you were a huuuge part of that time in my life.)
When I was 12/13, back in those heady early days of the internet, the days of geocities, aol homepages, the frames/no frames entrance questionnaire, "professional looking" sites of black background, colored text, and looots of sparkling or animated gifs and icons, in those days I used to have at least 12 different sites memorized, just for first season Sailor Moon fanfiction.
There was so much fiction you could find a dozen sites dedicated to every subset of SM possible.
A dozen here just for the Scouts + Generals.
A dozen more there just for alternate pairings (barrrrfffffffff) ("I cried when I put the colored contacts in your eyes, ChibiUsa...to hide your violet eyes...to hide that you were my [Sailor Mars] child"....or even worse when it's Pluto. >:| Grrrrrrr)
12 more just for Crystal Tokyo (unless you're in love with the little pink haired devil or her counterpart, the incestuous Black Lady, almost all of these were to be avoided)
A baker's dozen of delicious delicious breakup arc angst (and also one hilarious fic wherein Mamrou/Darien gets irradiated by a youma at some point and is infertile, so the future Neo Queen Serenity has to travel back in time to get*it*onnnn with a Mamrou from a time before in order to conceive the little pink sugar heart attack. So in this version, the explanation for Mamrou's temporary breakup with Usagi?....He was cheating on her.....with herself....from the future.)
Now, I don't believe there are 12 sites all together on the entirety of the net that still dedicate themselves to collecting SM fiction.
And the couple sites that are still around, the quality really, truly, objectively is far below the average standard of the day.
Also, Alternate Universe (and a million other things) should be up there, too. Al and I always disagreed over those. I ravenously tore through them and defended them to the utmost, provided the characters were, well, in character, and Allie thought they may as well be wholly original since they bore so little resemblance to the standard SM Universe.
I thought that was part of the charm, but knew that she was also right.
Sadly, almost all of the best authors, from every genre, agreed with that prescription and left to pursue original fic (or real life undertakings).
Thus marked the beginning of the end of the magic.
Whenever I think about fic, there are still a couple unfinished sagas that come to mind and bring along the nostalgic mourning.
The golden age of fanfiction.
You will be forever cherished and missed.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
A Reason to Stay
Short story started forevers ago. I have the notes on how to finish it, so I might just do that. :)
As my vision comes into focus I see my shoes treading along heavily weathered wooden boards. I only briefly wonder what had caused my vision to blur when a breeze caresses my face and I forget to wonder altogether.
The air is warm, almost hot, despite the lack of sun in the dark sky. The boards under my feet form a continuous path along the shoreline. I know you’ll be there somewhere. I’m not sure who you are, but I know I’m here for you.
The ocean to my right is obsidian. Glossy and black, and beckoning me to join into nothingness. There is no horizon to separate sky and sea, and if the waves are crashing, the sound does not carry. I turn away. I’m worried that the siren call will pull me from you. You are important. There is a flash of deep brown locks in my mind’s eye. It’s the one thing I’m sure of.
A little further down to the left of the boards, I see movement. There’s a bonfire leaping taller than any of the figures crowded round its gleaming girth. There’s music on the wind and people are dancing and laughing. I stop again. There’s a low ridge behind the partiers where the sand turns to something more substantial. The line of the ridge continues to rise as it chases the coast until they collide in a high sheer cliff. There are imposing stairs carved into its side, and above, a dark curving road where headlights occasionally flash.
“Hey there, Earth to Major Tom!”
A hand flashes in front of my face; my head turned to meet the voice. I inhale to begin speaking but what to say is still beyond me. My sense of self is trickling back with that breath, though, and time is speeding up from still life. Maybe this girl, with the smirk and red Solo cup, would- wait, I know her. I know I know her.
“Hi.”
“You feeling alright? You sound a bit hoarse. You’re not catching that thing that’s going round, are you?” She took a hefty pace back from me, sand sliding her further still. The concern on her face never faltered though her eyes narrowed considerably. “Cause you know I just can’t afford to get sick right now! I’ve got that Chem exam on Tuesday and then there’s the-”
“It’s ok Stace. Just a frog in my throat.” I had no difficulty feigning a smile. Stace- Stacey! I did know her. Sister, my mind added helpfully. You knew she was going to be here with her friends. She invited you to come along but you weren’t in the mood for cheep beer and anonymous company.
“Okay, Frenchie. If you say so. I didn’t think you were going to be coming at all. You’ve been kinda…distant recently. But no matter! You’re here now. Did you bring any CD’s with you? Tim is playing at DJ and you know how he is with his awful 80’s grunge bands; I mean really, there’s only so much laryngitis and angst one can take in a given evening. And this is supposed to be…”
I let the rambling cadence of her words slide over me without really hearing, a soothing blanket of familiarity.
Maybe I had meant to come here all along. That seemed normal. I seemed normal here. Stacey looped her arm through my elbow and pulled me off the wooden pathway. I stumbled but caught myself and headed off with her towards the sparking fire.
“Here you go, dude.” A man with dark hair and darker eyes held out a cup to me from across a folding table. I accepted automatically and sniffed at the noxious brown stuff. I wanted to talk to this man. Maybe I would remember even more or he would know something. Because there was something, wasn’t there? But Stacey, who had barely halted for this hospitality, and whose words had not, was already tugging my arm in the direction of the boy that must be Tim.
“-And maybe you can talk some sense into him! Or just beat him up. I mean, really. Orange and purple are alright for school colors maybe but certainly not for-” I nodded, and leaned far back to redeposit the un-sipped red plastic on the table while my arm could still reach.
“Listen, Stacey, I have something important I have to know.”
Saturday, February 5, 2011
The "s" on the "Excerpts"
So here's another little snipet from the autobiography notebook.
It should be no surprise to the cognizant reader that I have struggled with depression and a lack of self-confidence that sometimes reaches the level of self-loathing. I'm fairly certain, in fact, that the inability to identify an excerpt of my personal writing as morose, would be an accurate test for brain-death.
Depression is one of those things that sneaks up on you. Okay, really my own experience has been more that it straight up comes and smacks you across the face. The point is that you're always unprepared for it. Even those times when you see it marching purposely towards you.
As an adult they can teach you techniques, give you labels to use, so that it becomes possible to greet your intruder by name as it approaches. As a child, however, it can take a while for it to click that not everybody has this.
There is still a part of me that is unconvinced that this is not the case. That everyone spent their kindergarten evenings sobbing into the carpet, wiping away snot and tear tracks, asking "why me".
Another little bit:
Depression and anxiety are paralyzing. So is laziness. It's a coin toss which has negatively impacted me more.
I have a long love for language, dictionaries, etymology, grammar, and all the other trappings of words. I wonder if this isn't at least partially due to the fact that since I knew I was never going to do anything beyond talking about doing it, I became intrigued by learning how to better express what I was never going to do.
What an ambiguous, rambling sentence to directly follow a claimed love of grammar! But then, I guess I never claimed to love clarity in particular.
If it's true that I may never take the second step towards a goal, having never had much difficulty with first steps, at least I now had a myriad of different terms and means to excuse myself eloquently from it.
And you can bet all your money safely that when I list the future steps I would never take, there would be a comma before the "and". If I can't argue for myself, I can sure argue for the serial comma, or the Oxford, as it sometimes prefers to be called.
It should be no surprise to the cognizant reader that I have struggled with depression and a lack of self-confidence that sometimes reaches the level of self-loathing. I'm fairly certain, in fact, that the inability to identify an excerpt of my personal writing as morose, would be an accurate test for brain-death.
Depression is one of those things that sneaks up on you. Okay, really my own experience has been more that it straight up comes and smacks you across the face. The point is that you're always unprepared for it. Even those times when you see it marching purposely towards you.
As an adult they can teach you techniques, give you labels to use, so that it becomes possible to greet your intruder by name as it approaches. As a child, however, it can take a while for it to click that not everybody has this.
There is still a part of me that is unconvinced that this is not the case. That everyone spent their kindergarten evenings sobbing into the carpet, wiping away snot and tear tracks, asking "why me".
Another little bit:
Depression and anxiety are paralyzing. So is laziness. It's a coin toss which has negatively impacted me more.
I have a long love for language, dictionaries, etymology, grammar, and all the other trappings of words. I wonder if this isn't at least partially due to the fact that since I knew I was never going to do anything beyond talking about doing it, I became intrigued by learning how to better express what I was never going to do.
What an ambiguous, rambling sentence to directly follow a claimed love of grammar! But then, I guess I never claimed to love clarity in particular.
If it's true that I may never take the second step towards a goal, having never had much difficulty with first steps, at least I now had a myriad of different terms and means to excuse myself eloquently from it.
And you can bet all your money safely that when I list the future steps I would never take, there would be a comma before the "and". If I can't argue for myself, I can sure argue for the serial comma, or the Oxford, as it sometimes prefers to be called.
Excerpts from an autobiography
I could dig through boxes of my assorted papers and notebooks and probably find about 20 different versions of autobiographical writing intended to lay the groundwork for a full novel. Some of these attempt a humorous slant, some the everyman story of my personal era, a couple take a more family saga slant; this one is a bit different.
I started this one about a year ago. I've never been able to resist the draw of a fresh stack of college rule notebooks. Even though the "theme" to this one will be readily apparent, I have to tell you it was written at a plateau not a valley, and is being posted at a plateau not a valley. I mention this so that if anyone who reads this has a personal concern for me, they can set that aside in their valuation of the writing itself.
Without further undue ado:
A Life Wasted: An Autobiography
Were my story more widely known, I believe I could be a serious contender for most despised person in America.
I'm not a bitch, at least not regularly. I've never killed nor broken the law, beyond speeding. I rarely lie or cheat, except myself, and therein lies the key to my potential notoriety.
I waste. And that, I believe, is what society must punish above all else and what people must most despise.
We are fascinated with evil. We have an unrelenting appetite for the most specific, horrifying, or gruesome details of murder, death, loss, suffering, and mayhem. We want to know what makes a serial killer or fascist possible. And we are titillated when sociology and psychology say we each of us hold that capacity to go too far, checked within.
We worship good. The purity of feeling, the hope and sheer rightness of figures like Martin Luther King, Jr. and the many others we teach our children in school and hold in our hearts as adults. We enforce concepts like passing, sharing, saying "please" and "thank you", doing what's right.
Most of all, in this country at least, we hold achievement as our gold standard, focus and success as our currency. To do so much with so little, to overcome adversity to accomplish greatness, to be the best one could possibly be. This is the contract we make with society and the hope in a parent's eye when they gaze at their newborn.
There is an argument to be made that it is this achievement standard that makes us so interested and, perhaps, "respect" the evil figures of history, and, less seriously, the back-stabbers and ass-holes of the world. Look, we can say, look how much they did before we were able to stop them. A trace of awe in our collective voice at the audacity of Enron or Bernie Madoff or all those others who view us as collateral damage in their pursuit of personal gain.
This argument extends to our martyrs and idols. When a child's death is described as senseless it is often followed with proclamations like "think how much s/he could have done with their life". It is not enough to be held with esteem to think good or feel good; one must also do good to be of value. The loss of a person is registered by society as the loss of someone who. Someone who donated time and money to charity, who developed better medicine, who helped teach our children to achieve their potential; someone who made an impact on the world.
I was 9 years old standing shakily in the empty and silent bleakness of a cattle car in the entry way of a small Dallas Holocaust museum. I knew that about 50 years before, there would have been people crammed into that cattle car and sent rumbling along to a horrible death. I knew also that I could have been one of them; that I had escaped that fate by a narrow miss of history. Leaving that place, my father took my hand and asked me to consider the organized, efficient, and relentless crush of the Nazis, of the Holocaust, of war. "Now imagine if they'd used all of that for something positive, what the world would be today."
It is not enough to live in this world but we must actively shape it.
So what then of those in society who had every opportunity and passed on it? The ones with potential that spoiled it; who didn't care enough to do? It is these people who are the forgotten, the unworthy, the unforgiven.
I am one of these.
I am a life wasted.
This is my story.
I started this one about a year ago. I've never been able to resist the draw of a fresh stack of college rule notebooks. Even though the "theme" to this one will be readily apparent, I have to tell you it was written at a plateau not a valley, and is being posted at a plateau not a valley. I mention this so that if anyone who reads this has a personal concern for me, they can set that aside in their valuation of the writing itself.
Without further undue ado:
A Life Wasted: An Autobiography
Were my story more widely known, I believe I could be a serious contender for most despised person in America.
I'm not a bitch, at least not regularly. I've never killed nor broken the law, beyond speeding. I rarely lie or cheat, except myself, and therein lies the key to my potential notoriety.
I waste. And that, I believe, is what society must punish above all else and what people must most despise.
We are fascinated with evil. We have an unrelenting appetite for the most specific, horrifying, or gruesome details of murder, death, loss, suffering, and mayhem. We want to know what makes a serial killer or fascist possible. And we are titillated when sociology and psychology say we each of us hold that capacity to go too far, checked within.
We worship good. The purity of feeling, the hope and sheer rightness of figures like Martin Luther King, Jr. and the many others we teach our children in school and hold in our hearts as adults. We enforce concepts like passing, sharing, saying "please" and "thank you", doing what's right.
Most of all, in this country at least, we hold achievement as our gold standard, focus and success as our currency. To do so much with so little, to overcome adversity to accomplish greatness, to be the best one could possibly be. This is the contract we make with society and the hope in a parent's eye when they gaze at their newborn.
There is an argument to be made that it is this achievement standard that makes us so interested and, perhaps, "respect" the evil figures of history, and, less seriously, the back-stabbers and ass-holes of the world. Look, we can say, look how much they did before we were able to stop them. A trace of awe in our collective voice at the audacity of Enron or Bernie Madoff or all those others who view us as collateral damage in their pursuit of personal gain.
This argument extends to our martyrs and idols. When a child's death is described as senseless it is often followed with proclamations like "think how much s/he could have done with their life". It is not enough to be held with esteem to think good or feel good; one must also do good to be of value. The loss of a person is registered by society as the loss of someone who. Someone who donated time and money to charity, who developed better medicine, who helped teach our children to achieve their potential; someone who made an impact on the world.
I was 9 years old standing shakily in the empty and silent bleakness of a cattle car in the entry way of a small Dallas Holocaust museum. I knew that about 50 years before, there would have been people crammed into that cattle car and sent rumbling along to a horrible death. I knew also that I could have been one of them; that I had escaped that fate by a narrow miss of history. Leaving that place, my father took my hand and asked me to consider the organized, efficient, and relentless crush of the Nazis, of the Holocaust, of war. "Now imagine if they'd used all of that for something positive, what the world would be today."
It is not enough to live in this world but we must actively shape it.
So what then of those in society who had every opportunity and passed on it? The ones with potential that spoiled it; who didn't care enough to do? It is these people who are the forgotten, the unworthy, the unforgiven.
I am one of these.
I am a life wasted.
This is my story.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
adreaming
Wrote a poem and I almost never do that.
I've never felt like I was particularly good with that literary medium.
Maybe that brief doc on street magnet poetry 'Manda and I watched seeped in more than I would have accredited.
I was interrupted in middle of my dreaming.
Faces, places fading fast
I heard your voice o'er write my mind
And lost the colors in my grasp
I was interrupted though it were pressing.
Unsteady shaken to my task
A task that at once, once completed
Relinquished mind sonambled past
I have lost to the some-else interruption.
A wish returning to a clasp
Clasp of sweet, unnamed, forgotten
To be a dream again at last
Don't know what I'll do with the thing (banish and forget? Attention-whore it on fb?) but it's here for now. ;)
I've never felt like I was particularly good with that literary medium.
Maybe that brief doc on street magnet poetry 'Manda and I watched seeped in more than I would have accredited.
I was interrupted in middle of my dreaming.
Faces, places fading fast
I heard your voice o'er write my mind
And lost the colors in my grasp
I was interrupted though it were pressing.
Unsteady shaken to my task
A task that at once, once completed
Relinquished mind sonambled past
I have lost to the some-else interruption.
A wish returning to a clasp
Clasp of sweet, unnamed, forgotten
To be a dream again at last
Don't know what I'll do with the thing (banish and forget? Attention-whore it on fb?) but it's here for now. ;)
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