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2010-07-17T16:22:00.000-07:00

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No Longer Lost...

2010-07-17T16:21:00.000-07:00

I know that this comes a couple of days late, but I just saw the Lost season finale and I feel a little empty inside. I don't feel surprised by the ending, or shocked, or saddened. It was like watching the latest Star Wars movies, you just know what is coming even if you don't know all of the specifics.

Let me make this clear, I am a Lost newbie, having watched the entire series over the past six months, so I don't have quite the same rumination period that the veterans have enjoyed. Maybe this has left me with a clearer vision, maybe it leaves me with a less-than-credible experience. Granted, there were some mysteries that left me baffled, i.e. how much of the flash-sideways segments were true, the contradicions from backstory to flash-sideways (Sawyer the criminal or Sawyer the cop?), will Big and Carrie have a baby (oops, wrong show), etc. Still, the end did not surprise me.

Let me explain, from season one, many fans--myself included--started to link the island with some sort of Biblical or pseudo-religious metaphor. The references to Dharma, numerology, heiroglyphs, and the Adam and Eve reference from the pilot, combined with the unfolding stories of human failure and isolation suggested that redemption of some sort was the underlying girder. As the show progressed, especially into the Jacob storyline, the spiritual element became more clear. The key moment for me came during the Richard Alpert episode, wherein Jacob promises eternal life. That entire scene on the beach with the wine, the apparent baptism, and the devotion aspect were no less than direct symbolism. Why was Jacob able to offer eternal life? Because he was already dead. The promise was eternal purgatory. Same goes for the man in black answering in the negative when Alpert asked if he was dead. The devil lies.

This is a short synopsis of my feelings on the show, so let me be perfectly clear. I am not claiming to have known the ending, nor can admit to having understood the mystery of the show. I was as "lost" as the rest of you. What was clear were certain spiritualistic elements that led me to think that redemption was the major theme. This is why I was not shocked or surprised to learn in the final episode the characters had learned to love and thus regained their humanity, allowing them to move forward to the place that follows physical death. At least, that is my interpretation of the end.

Honestly, I am glad it's over. The constant build-up and partial release was frustrating and exhausting. Ultimately, Lost was a character driven vehicle; to me the important questions were answered, those dealing with the characters, not the minutiae of the island. I imagine that with a little deep thought, any of the mythology questions could be answered reasonably. I won't be doing that type of analysis. My show is over.

Football, Foot Ball

2010-07-17T16:20:00.000-07:00

So. In an effort to be openminded and fair toward my soccer-loving friends, I attempted to watch a World Cup de FIFA match last night. I want to say that the two teams involved were New Zealand, which I didn't even know was a real country, and Slovakia, though I was not positive until going online to decipher Neuvo Zelanda and Eslovaqia. I had to do this because the game was on Univision, the Mexican TBS. That's right, the only two countries on the planet that do not have ANY Mexicans played soccer on the Mexican channel. I could probably write more on this, but I am sure you get my meaning.

In between advertisements for McDonalds and Bud Light was a "sport" that featured grown men running and kicking at each other. Let me say this before going forward, by the time the first goal was scored, some 50-something minutes into the game, there were only five shots on goal. Five. In 50 minutes. I was ready to pull my hair out. None of the finesse, or excitement, or flair that my friends find so fascinating was apparent. In fact, it was the opposite. The only time I got excited was when some guy would take a spike to the ankle and fall down in agony, rolling about while clutching his foot in obvious pain. That is, until the other team was handed the ball to throw back into play at which point the injured player would hop up, spry as a cat, and resume running with no apparent damage to his foot at all. It was as though he was never hurt! I haven't seen acting so bad since Lorenzo Lamas in "Mega-shark Versus Giant Octopus."

The first goal came some 55 minutes into the game, as the team in blue scored against the team in white when a player used his head to angle the ball downward. It didn't even look like he was trying to score. He looked like he was trying to keep the other guy from kicking it clear. Unfortunately, the goal mouth is about 40 feet wide and the lone protector could not even get close enough to stop the ball from going in. I mean really. Why even have a goalie? The huge goal in relation to the single netminder should allow for higher scoring games, but the damn field is so big, the ball rarely approaches the goal! When it does get there, either the players miss the shot, kicking it some 20 feet over the net, or one of the 40 defenders kicks it away. I digress.

Let me make a few points here that sum up my soccer experience.

1. If you cannot use your hands, you shouldn't get to use your head either. In hockey, you cannot alter your body in anyway that would alter the trajectory of the puck. No turning the skate, no angling your hips or shoulders, etc. if the puck naturally deflects off of you and you made no effort to guide it, then it counts. If there was movement, the goal is ruled null. Soccer fails in this regard.

2. Referring above, if you fall to the ground with an injury that is so painful as to force the referee to penalize the offender with a yellow card, you should be so hurt as to leave the field. When I was a child, and stayed home sick, my mother would not let me go to the movies or out to play for the rest of the day. The logic was that if I was too sick for school, I was too sick to go out. Obviously, soccer players have no mothers. I say that if you fall to the ground in writhing malaise that results in a penalty card, then you get up and play like nothing ever happened, you should be ejected from the game.

3. Stop comparing soccer to hockey in an effort to convince me to watch it. The two sports are nothing alike. You think that because there is a net, a goalie, and offsides, that there are similarities. Nothing could be further from the truth. Hockey moves quickly, forcing each team member to be aware at all times of where each of his opponents is on the ice. Soccer has an offensive squad and a defensive squad that do not leave their respective zones. In hockey, any player on the ice is capable of scoring a goal--that includes the goaltender should he be so lucky. Additionally, the level of physicality in hockey cannot be compared to soccer. You wear little rubber spikes; we wear razor-honed blades and travel at speeds reaching 15 mph. We have walls that players are regularly slammed into, and curved sticks that can cut, slash, and check. Also, a 0 - 0 game is an irregularity, except in matches where the goaltenders have actually had to stand on their heads for the entire duration of the game. Facing 30 shots is not uncommon for a goalie, from a puck that may travel in excess of 100 mph. how many shots does a soccer goalie face in 90 minutes? Ten? Five?Enough with the comparisons already, the two sports are nothing alike so quit trying to sell me.

4. What is the deal with the constant buzzing from the crowd? I'm not talking about cheering or other human voice; it is like a train horn running in the background for 90 minutes at the most annoying note on the chromatic scale. After 10 minutes, I had to mute the television lest it drive me into permanent insanity. As the broadcast was in Spanish, it didn't matter if I was listening anyway.

I would love to go on, but to be honest I have no more desire to continue this line. I was bored stiff. By the time the first goal came, I was so tired of watching that I felt nothing. It was like masturbating without release. Where was the payoff? For the first time in my memory, I could care less whether the U. S. A. won or lost in a competition. This is not a sport, it is jogging with a ball. Much like Kevin Smith's script wherein The Lord of the Rings is described as walking, walking, and more walking, soccer struck me as running, running, and more running, though with an occasional glimmer of hope that the ball might eventually get near the goal mouth. It rarely does.

With the World Cup now over, I quote the words of Marcus Swisher, "Now soccer can go back to being a fag sport."

With your bad self...

2010-07-17T16:19:00.000-07:00

LeBron James is a true American. This country is the home of capitalism. He became one of the best at his job and he wants more money and prestige for his accomplishments. This is the very essence of our economic system. I suggest that everyone who thinks he is a jerk go to work next Monday and offer to give back your last raise, or better yet, ask your boss if he will pay you minimum wage from now on.

What's the point of becoming the best if you can't cash in on it? The feeling of having done a job well? Those are fine things for some people (guidance counselors, teachers, etc.) but not enough for others. He has about 15-20 years to make as much money as possible, then his career will be over. Right on LeBron. Go get your championship ring. Go cash in on your ability. God bless America.

-----------------------------------------------------

Sports fans have allowed this financial mess in the professional leagues to happen. We refused to stop watching games, stop buying tickets, stop buying food when salaries, stadiums, and ticket prices become outrageously grandiose. We have encouraged--and continue to encourage--players and owners to make as much profit as possible by tacitly funding them with merchandise, cable channel subscriptions, and ticket sales. We can't get angry when they play the game we let them play, the game we are funding them to play. You get what you pay for so quit whining.

I often think of what sports would be like without free agency and I think of Ray Bourque winning his Stanley Cup with the Avalanche. The best defenseman in hockey was not going to get a championship in Boston so he played his final season with the best team in the league. The hockey world rejoiced the night he hoisted the Cup--a result of free agency. There are similar stories in other sports, where great players are denied the chance to earn the ultimate prize because they are locked into untenable situations with no recourse.

This note has two points, that sports does benefit from time to time due to free agency, and that we cannot possibly fault a player because he wants a chance to play his game for the most money and with the best chance to wear a championship crown. We should support LeBron, and any other whose effort and achievement allow him or her to pursue further excellence. Isn't that the American dream?

Alice Cooper?

2010-05-12T04:56:00.000-07:00

It's nearly 5 a.m. and I am awake again. I cannot sleep with any regularity knowing that I am a week from graduating. I have a final to take today, a project to complete over the weekend, and two more finals next week (Monday and Wednesday), and then I say goodbye to CSU, Sacramento, forever. What along strange trip it's been...

Here are the highlights of my time at CSUS:

1. Thanks to Dr. Ernie Olsen, I finally gave stand-up comedy a try. During my short run as a comic, I worked Laughs Unlimited, the Punchline, Harlow's, and the Dante Club among others, and even got paid a few times. A career? Not hardly. But I learned a lot about myself and why I think funny is funny. Thanks Doc.

2. I was elected president of Lambda Pi Eta, Epsilon Phi chapter, the national honor society for Communication Studies scholars. In six weeks, we more than doubled our membership, much in part to my recruiting tactics and tireless efforts, and also with the help of a few dear classmates. I also rewrote nearly the entire society constitution with the suggestions of the general body and our Faculty Advisor, Dr. Edith LeFebvre. This experience has taught me more than I ever thought possible about leadership, responsibility, and the value of teamwork. I can't wait to see what the incoming members are capable of!

3. My GPA to date is at 3.758, not to shabby considering that there were a few classes I felt completely lost in.

4. I learned that no amount of research can ever tell me what someone's motivations are. Thanks Dr. Chris Miller.

5. Toastmasters International is not an organization than interests me. I tried it. Was not much fun. Some good people there, for sure.

6. Allison Stark, Lauren Phillips, Allie Mandel, Elizabeth Green, Lindsay Donahoe, you are the cornerstone of friendship. I cannot wait to see how your lives progress in the coming years. I love you, each and every one.

7. I should have taken the time to minor in Sociology. I took enough Soc. classes, dammnit.

8. Dr. David Zuckerman, you are my hero, you little Jewish wonder. If my style, my intellect, my comprehension of our discipline ever emulates or approaches yours, I will have done well.

9. How the hell did I ever stay sober through all of this? Oh yeah, I still remember what my life had become at the end of my drinking days. May I never forget.

Let's all go to the lobby...

2010-03-19T09:47:00.000-07:00

At what point in history did this country, so proud of its freedom, become a nation of whiners and ninnies? We regulate everything from toothpaste to toilet paper, airplanes to advertising. Where does it all end. It seems that the movies are our last bastion of freedom and one segment that just shouldn't be toyed with. Like television, if you don't like what you see you can change the channel or leave your set turned off; with movies, you can simply not purchase a ticket, or just walk out of the theatre. Leave my movies alone.

It is the parents who control the destilny of film, and it has been since the inception of the MPAA ratings schema. I say we let them. Remember what happened when government tried to intervene on art? Robert Mapplethorpe nearly burned at the stake. Larry Flint had to go to the Supreme Court of the United States. Listen, I can't go to the DMV without facing an hour and a half wait, let alone watching them toil in trying to pass a budget that inevitably ends in more national poverty. Why would I want these people trying to manage content on the silver screen?

I want to hear "fuck" as much as possible, and I want to see female breasts--many, many female breasts--when I go to the movies. I want to see Bruce Willis blow shit up. I want to see Jim Carrey make dick and fart jokes for 90 minutes. It is as American an apple pie, Chevrolet, and grandmas apron. Don't agree with me? Great! You are not expected to. This is America, damnit! The land of the free. Go watch Gwyneth Paltrow or some chubby English chick cry for an hour before getting the hot guy. I want you to see the movies that make you feel something; that's what movies are for.

I'll make you a deal. You don't control the content of the films I want to see, and I won't control the content of the movies you want to see. Capice?

Let the blood flow. Let the explosions begin. Let the James Cameron do whatever it is he does. Let untalented 18 year olds get off the bus in the San Fernando Valley and fall into porn because they didn't get love at home from their families. Film plays too important a role in all of our lives.

Self-regulation is the key.

Go Ahead and Change the Channel

2010-02-13T18:18:00.001-08:00

Go Ahead and Change the Channel:
Mad Men, Jack Daniels, and Product-As-Character in a Television Series

Woody Laughnan, III
California State University, Sacramento

Abstract
The acclaimed television show Mad Men is a throwback to the golden age of television due to the inclusion of alcohol as a lead character rather than merely as a prop. In utilizing alcohol as a character, Mad Men breaks from modern flow while bypassing the liquor industry’s self-banning of advertising during primetime. An examination of producer interviews, advertiser statements, script highlights, and DVD formatting reveals plotlines, advertising strategies, and visual staging that indicate a purposeful effort to redefine the nature of narrative character. The use of an inanimate object in a role, in this case specific alcoholic beverages whose manufacturers have paid for considerable immersion, indicates the effect of advertising culture on television production and suggests that Mad Men may be the vanguard of a new paradigm, one that hearkens back to a time before commercials interrupted drama every seven to twelve minutes..
Keywords: Mad Men, alcohol advertising, narrative, character, agent, advertising culture, product placement, Jack Daniels, genre, flow

Go Ahead and Change the Channel:
Mad Men, Jack Daniels, and Product-As-Character in a Television Series
For two-and-a-half years, Mad Men has been a ratings darling and Emmy© award winning serial drama for American Movie Classics (AMC), a pay cable network traditionally known for its B-grade, made-for-TV movies and content-edited airings of classic (and not-so-classic) domestically produced films. In winning the awards for Outstanding Drama Series and Outstanding Writing for a Drama Series in 2009, Mad Men accomplished in two seasons what other highly rated and popular dramatic series’ such as E.R. (winner in second season), NYPD Blue (winner in second season), and The West Wing (winner in first season and the following three) had done, garnering critical acclaim quickly (winner in both first and second seasons) while developing a solid, loyal fan base. ”Smart and tremendously attractive” (Franklin, 2007, n.p.), Mad Men has witnessed a clamoring for new episodes and water-cooler discussion not seen since the departure of The Sopranos in 2007. In fact, over the previous 39 years, Mad Men and The Sopranos are the only two cable shows to earn the Outstanding Drama Series Emmy©.
Historical Approach Mad Men is set in a Madison Avenue agency during the 1960’s, the “golden age of advertising.” J. McDonough (2008, p. C6) implores us not to confuse the turbulent, Vietnam War-driven political landscape with the post-1950’s suburban American promised land; instead he asks us to remember that the children of the second world war were now grown and “raising their own kids in freshly built suburbs… buying washing machines, color TV’s and long-and-low cars visualized as jet fighters on wheels” (p. C6). Nearly every American was familiar with popular brands made famous in the commercials that paid for their shows, yet few knew of the behind-the-scene dealings that resulted in huge profits for both the public relations firms and the producers of consumer goods. Originally driven by demographics and “psycho-graphic markers” (McDonough, 2008, p. C6), the ad agencies eventually applied complex behavior models, employed psychologists to develop subliminal messaging, and maximized depictions of male/female disparity in their attempts to manipulate potential consumers.
Mad Men is as much a television show as it is an historical accounting, something its set designers, costumers, and directors have set forward with purpose. Matthew Weiner, the show’s 43-year-old creator and former Sopranos writer, gained sole control of his project from Charlie Collier, the new head of AMC, to produce a series that would not only feature top notch writing, but a dedication to period authenticity. Says Weiner, “(T)hey trusted me completely, the pilot was the script that I had written three years earlier” (Guthrie, 2008, p. 36). Still, an historical series such as Mad Men traditionally follows one of two courses according to J. Tulloch (1990): “comforting nostalgia” or “superficial nominalism,” either of which “obscure history as a relationship between past and present” (p. 91). As in other period dramas, Mad Men is an amalgam of popularly held remembrances of the time, and although “an archaeological dig into the anthropology, idioms and secret codes of a distant culture” (McDonough, 2008, p. C6) are apparent, we should be careful to remember that any television program is but a reflection of an age—its attitudes, beliefs, and behaviors—revealing only those elements deemed important by the show’s writers, directors, and producers. In addition to period costuming, set decoration, and social turbulence, it seems that Weiner wants us to remember the prevalence of, and lackadaisical attitude toward, social drinking, one of the major recurrent themes throughout.
Casting and Character The series stars Jon Hamm as Don Draper who, as creative director and resident genius at the Sterling Cooper Agency, develops advertisements “that evoke emotion and aspiration and thereby create a fantasy only consumption can fill” (Schulman, 2009, p. 47). The prototypical flawed protagonist, Draper is ruthlessly efficient at closing the deal with corporate clients, but as a husband and father he often falls short of expectation. Alcohol flows and cigarettes smolder as Draper cheats on his wife, disappears from his adolescent daughter’s slumber party, bribes his younger brother to leave and never return (the brother would later hang himself), and in an interesting twist assumes a false identity by stealing the name of a former war buddy (Schulman, 2009). Surrounding characters include January Jones in the role of Betty Draper, the wife and mother whose arc has taken her from the therapist’s couch to an affair of her own; John Slattery as Roger Sterling, senior partner at Sterling Cooper, whose return from a heart attack prompted him to merge his company with a British competitor; and Vincent Kartheiser as Pete Campbell, the sycophantic, petulant freshman agent who initially idolizes Draper but eventually comes to despise his standing (see fig. 1).

Figure 1 John Slattery as Roger Sterling and Jon Hamm as Don Draper head the cast of TV's Mad Men.
Although the players have been infamously snubbed by Emmy© voters, critics and fans alike claim that the program’s “chief virtues are the amazing stillness of its central performers… and
its obsessive attention to detail” (Cooke, 2009, p. 46).
What may be one of the most prominent characters in Mad Men, and one that appears in what seems most every scene, is not a human performer at all, but rather an inanimate object, liquor. Be it a conference in Sterling’s office, a meeting at the club with a potential client, or Don’s coming home to his family, alcohol silently but masterfully infuses every scene both as a prop and as a focal point. When communication pauses, the slow, careful sip of a drink speaks volumes on both the scene and the time. The offer of a drink serves as the entryway to every business conversation just as its pouring creates a buffer zone between warring spouses.
Alcohol in Primetime The concept of alcohol advertising is intriguing, especially when we consider that the nature of such promotions are not federally monitored, but rather self-regulated by those who would sponsor the advertising (Mosher, 2006). In 2003, Congress requested data from the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) regarding marketing of alcoholic beverages to minors, due in part to the influx of new malt beverages (Mike's Hard Lemonade, Bacardi Breeze, et. al) and related marketing (Federal Trade Commission, 2003). The Distilled Spirits Council of the United States, not the Federal Trade Commission or Congress, is the governing body when it comes to disputes of irresponsible alcohol advertising on television. The line is generally drawn when liquor appears in programs that feature graphic “’depictions of overt sexual activity,’ lewd images or language,” or “irresponsible drinking and intoxication” (Smith, 2007, p. 1), all of which are hallmarks of Mad Men.
Responses to Product Placement In 1996, the alcohol industry lifted its self-imposed, 48-year old ban on primetime advertising. Since then, alcohol companies have rushed to develop commercials, using many of the same tactics as the Sterling Cooper Agency, that mirror the settings, characters, and plotlines of shows on over 500 stations (Smith, 2007). Ralph Nader’s Commercial Alert (CA) group has been a vocal opponent of these advertisements and, due to the abundance of alcohol and sex depicted in the show, called for Mad Men to be removed from the air altogether. CA managing director Robert Weissman, responding to a Federal Trade Commission (FTC) announcement on product placement, reasoned that the inclusion of a product into a television show rather than in standard commercial form, does not allow for product disclaimers at the time of viewing, instead “(T)he emotional and persuasive power of a product placement advertisement, like other advertisements, occurs at the moment it airs” (2008, n.p.).
There exists considerable research into the subject of product placement, but the majority of work centers on film rather than television. Ferraro and Avery (2000) make the claim that in primetime broadcasting across the four network stations, “brands are prevalent” (1), though most appear during sporting events, magazine-style shows, and game shows. They do state that sitcoms and dramas also have a fair share of brand representation, but fail to cite those programs leaving one to wonder if the placement is as obvious as suggested. Pompper and Choo (2008) are more specific in citing examples, the Junior Mints episode of Seinfeld chief among them. Other programs, like Frazier and Survivor are mentioned as past examples of successful product placement campaigns, yet these and other examples differ from Mad Men in one significant way. Whereas product placement does certainly exist on television, what Mad Men accomplishes weekly is not placement but immersion. The regular viewer rarely hears the product name—though he or she occasionally does—but rather sees the characters interacting with the product, allowing the product to guide character decision-making as a supporting character might.
Television Flow A look at the early history of television reveals a pattern that is mostly unrecognizable today. The majority of programs from the late 1930’s through the 1940’s were only 15 minutes in length and were nothing more than blatant advertising vehicles. Shows had a single, identifiable corporate sponsor; hosts of talk and variety programs were similarly linked with a particular product and compensated by its manufacturer. This early branding took the form of commercials that were interwoven with either the introductory voice-over or during the broadcast itself. Shows of the era such as Bristol-Myers' Geographically Speaking and Proctor & Gamble's The Guiding Light did not break for commercials per se; the actors from these programs would pitch the products from the studio sets between acts. Even perennial favorites such as I Love Lucy and The Flintstones were sponsored by cigarette makers. The original run of The Flintstones featured Fred and Barney puffing on Winstons (see figs. 2 & 3) at the end of each program (Ingram, n.d.).

Figures 2 and 3 Barney Rubble, Fred Flintstone, and Wilma Flintstone enjoying Winston cigarettes.
The evolution of broadcasting included the introduction of the stand-alone commercial, pre-recorded for purchased airtime. Advertisers shifted away from direct sponsorship, and instead favored “the scheduling of programs and the advertising breaks within and between” (Thompson, 2003, p. 6). The shift from stop-and-start, intermingled advertising and public service programming to the more popular pattern we witness today was coined by R. Williams (1976) as flow; flow is not an industry term, but an accepted label to describe the new organizational structure (commercial—program—commercial) that has become the essential nature of all broadcasting systems. Television is less a series of isolated, sponsored productions, having now morphed into a “mode of higher unity” (Corner, 1999, p. 62), specifically in the way that program segments are now filmed to accommodate commercial breaks. Flow is designed and managed to accomplish one task, cultivating in viewers the “impulse to go on watching” (Williams, 1974, P. 94) by timing patterns in such a way as to: create excitement during opening sequences, build tension through comedic or dramatic escalation, and intersperse commercials to make each four to twelve-minute program segment into a mini-cliffhanger.
Purpose of Research This report argues that Weiner’s inclusion of alcohol serves two not unrelated purposes:
1. That Mad Men’s developers have utilized alcohol as a character rather than set decoration;
2. That the producer’s contractual agreements with Jack Daniels and Smirnoff, the subsequent placement of these beverages as character, exemplifies a new, old paradigm—the true marriage of advertising with television for mutual financial benefit. In effect, this paper predicts that in coming years, Mad Men will usher in a new genre of product immersion, replacing product placement, via the manipulation of television flow.
An examination of the definitions of, and expectations of, dramatic supporting players should provide insight to the first claim, while an inductive application of generic reasoning should lend support toward the second, speculative claim.
Methodology
Supporting Role Characteristics When it comes to defining a supporting part in a dramatic endeavor, we find it necessary to examine the role a supporting player serves, rather than a semantic definition that limits us to placing people as agents. To assume that a dramatic character must be a human being, as noted by J. Butler (1994), places restrictions on criticism that are too limiting. How would we define an animated character if voice is the only necessary component? We might argue that an animated mime, according to Butler, is not a character at all as it lacks human presence. We must not draw too narrow a boundary in looking at the characteristics of a supporting character nor focus too intently on human appearance as a requirement. A search for relevant research into this discussion has yielded little result, requiring this study to take a more generative approach to developing criteria for the nature of inanimate or non-human character in dramatic narrative.
What then are the native characteristics of a supporting player? First, and most basic, the role requires some definite interaction with lead agents, often offering some form of support, guidance, or influence. Second, the supporting actor cannot upstage the lead performer yet still remain noticeable and recognizable. Third, the role requires consistency; that is, from scene to scene, the behaviors, values, or attributes ascribed to the character must not deviate from previous appearances—they must be predictable. Finally, a supporting role must, in some way, help to move the story forward. The character should not have a dedicated or major story arc, but must assist in moving the lead characters toward the traditional signposts of plot development, conflict, resolution, and denouement. One might make a case that in certain examples, primarily in cinema, support roles often have back story, but even these only serve to enrich the overall conflict and add depth to the lead role/support role dynamic.
Generic Criticism Generic criticism can take one of two divergent paths, that of the deductive pattern or the inductive pattern. As this paper attempts to determine, or at least speculate, that Mad Men is the progenitor of a new paradigm in television broadcasting, we are better served in performing an inductive analysis. The process is staged, and includes a look at specific textual features or other evidence that supports the claim; in this case, the claim is that we are potentially witnessing the dawn of a new genre in television. The second stage should include a look at other possible genres the text might fit, but for the purposes of this argument, identifying such genres as drama, business-themed, mature, or other would be neither beneficial nor informative. The relative newness of Mad Men, and a lack of presence of other television shows that utilize product-as-character, insists that we begin to see the program as an isolated, unique entity that due to its rapid rise in popularity will shape television shows to come.
Discussion of Evidence
Product as Character Many examples exist of product/inanimate object as character, some with dialogue, some without, but always affecting the story either as lead or in support. For example, consider the 2002 Hong Kong film, The Runaway Pistol, which follows an aging handgun as it changes hands and takes the lives of those in contact with each owner. The film features voice-over narration which is taken to be the inner monologue from the weapon itself. Although critically panned, the film makes an interesting case study for inanimate object as character and serves this argument well. A recent commercial for Carl’s Jr. Restaurants features a pair of hamburgers comparing their relative size and cost. Geico, the insurance giant known for their quirky yet annoying commercials, has for the past year featured a stack of money with googly eyes as its spokesperson. Although the cash has no dialogue, advertisements have attributed cell phone text messaging, self-mobility, and most importantly, symbolic representation of savings to the icon. Academic study has also linked such shows as Sex and the City, Friends, and The Sopranos with location as character (Sadler & Haskins, 2005; Handyside, 2007); all three take place in New York City, which, following the September 11, 2001, attacks on the World Trade Center has become less of a locale and more of a personality.
This is not to say that the argument for setting not equating to character—or, that other categorical dimensions of a traditional narrative are isolated and mutually exclusive—is not viable. The intent here is not to argue the relative merits of Fisher or other narrative critics, but simply to argue that narrow definitions do not account for paradigmatic anomalies. Indeed, the majority of television shows have very definite and unobscured themes, settings, narrators, causal and temporal relations, and events, but as television is at heart a creative medium, writers and producers have the poetic license to play with these norms, whether successfully or not.
The criteria presented above demands that a supporting player interacts with the lead players in such a way as to offer support, guidance, or influence. As most would agree that alcohol rarely supports or offers guidance—at least not helpful support or guidance!—we must look to liquor’s influence on character behavior. Mad Men has received considerable attention for not just the preponderance of booze on the show, but also for the effect of alcohol on its lead players’ demeanors and behaviors. From Draper’s driving-under-the-influence automobile accident to his whiskey-fueled affairs with more women than are worth counting, alcohol can easily be said to influence character behavior. In one telling scene, in which Sterling visits the Draper home for a late dinner, Sterling is seen ogling the bottle on the table and mentions repeatedly his close relationship with drink. In this sense, liquor acts like a great supporting actor by forcing the leads to raise their game through the incorporation of alcohol-affected gestures (holding a glass, pouring a drink, etc.) while helping to perfect blocking techniques (misé-en-scene to include the beverage, maximize lighting, etc.). Because of its translucent nature, alcohol affects the role of lighting directors, as well as impacting directors, property masters, and advertising and product placement executives, demanding as much attention as any human character.
As to exposure, the second qualifier, alcohol pervades scene after scene, its presence noticeable in both foreground and background. Beginning with the opening scene from the pilot episode, wherein Draper seeks advertising advice from nightclub employees, the character actor alcohol sets the stage for many of the lead role interactions. Combining exposure and supporting role is easy enough. Like a bad friend, urging a decision that we know we shouldn’t make, liquor encourages and empowers Draper to rationalize and dismiss extramarital affairs. Like a confidant, the loner Draper is invited by booze to unburden his guilt and childhood pain—three fingers of scotch at a time. No business meeting begins without social lubricant, as though liquor were another sexily-dressed temp from the secretaries’ pool; rarely does the personal encounter end without an intoxicated monologue or frustrated exit. Alcohol is the third friend in the room and the bad influence on a Saturday night for the ad men of Madison Avenue, but never do we fail to see the bottle; it is either in the hand or on the desk, but never far from view.
This consistency of role satisfies the third claim. Consider for example if Cosmo Kramer, the quirky neighbor to Seinfeld, were to casually enter the room rather than bursting in with his trademark stutter-step? What if Robert Barone, Ray Romano’s television brother from Everybody Loves Raymond, was to suddenly gain self-confidence and feel no shame about being the brother who is consistently overlooked? These characters would never have behaved so differently, else the relational dynamic of these shows would have fallen apart. The example carries over to Mad Men easily. Picture Don Draper, on his third glass of whiskey, telling his girlfriend of the month that he needs to call things off because his family and wife are just too important. What if Roger Sterling suddenly realized his mortality, as he did following his heart attack, and decided that alcohol just did not fit into his new fitness regime? Though this happened on the show, not one full episode passed without his return to the drink. No, alcohol needs to be the bad guy in the room, as it provides at least some saving grace for the often despicable actions of the lead characters. We each have a relationship with drink; some see it as poison or part of a damaged past, others see it as a casual acquaintance, useful for relaxation or an evening out. Whatever one’s opinion, should alcohol cease to be the intoxicating, seductive, or occasionally appropriate beverage that it is, a small part of our worldview would be altered. For this reason, Robert will always whine, Kramer will always be Kramer, and alcohol will be a ubiquitous and consistent partner to the Mad Men agents.
And finally, does alcohol move the story forward? This is a question that could be asked of any supporting player; in this case, as proved by the above examples, and others that space does not allow for, the answer is a resounding YES! The relationship between the producers of Mad Men, and both Jack Daniel’s and Smirnoff, has ensured that entire story arcs revolve around these beverages. Season two is particularly interesting in that Jack Daniel’s signed a lucrative deal with Weiner and AMC to not only place the beverage in scene, but to build an entire story line out of a possible advertising campaign. Though Weiner claims that “drinking on the show is not advocacy,” (Smith, 2007, p. 1) Robert Weissman of Commercial Alert, a Washington-based watchdog organization, argued that a contract of this sort changes the face of television. He concludes that this specific endorsement means that “Jack Daniel’s will not be in a bit part; Jack Daniel’s will be a star of the show” (Smith, 2007, P. 1). Though he may have been speaking euphemistically, the combined proof shows that he is not off the mark.
One final bit of evidence that went mostly unnoticed, yet is stark when a simple observational comparison is done, appears on the DVD from season two. Due to space limitations, only three episodes appear on any compact disk. Each disk has a title menu, allowing the viewer to play, select an episode, watch the special features, etc. From disk one of season one forward, the title menu has featured the menu selections opposite or adjacent to a still photo of one of the lead or secondary characters; for example, disk one of season one shows the menu options opposite a picture of Jon Hamm taken from a random scene. Disk two of season two is eye-catching in that no human star is pictured; instead a highball glass filled with what appears to be whiskey on ice is shown. Rather than a still image, the ice is slowly melting in the glass, tinkling as it taps the edge of the glass. Though this is not proof in itself of the claim that whiskey, vodka, and scotch appear where a lead is traditionally situated, the DVD presentation certainly adds to the mounting evidence that even Weiner and his creative staff consider alcohol to be more than just a prop but an active member of the cast.
Making the Case for Genre Critics often fall into the trap of organizing and cataloguing while failing to recognize that genre “must go beyond mere classification” and into the realm of clarification (Measell, 1976). This seems the most appropriate direction for a claim of this sort, as this paper asserts that Mad Men may be the father of a new genre. As posited earlier, this program could easily be categorized as drama, mature viewing, or any other of an infinite number of already established genres or subgroups, yet Mad Men features an element that others lack—that of product as character. It is this definition that leads to the postulating that follows, beginning with the advertisers' link to new and existing programs.
The television series, and thus television advertising, begins with a pilot. Pilot episodes are the opening salvo. Intended as a practice episode to see if the general public shows an interest, they are most often produced by networks based on a producer’s sales pitch, which may include the addition of a writer who has developed successful shows in the past, recognizable or journeyman directors, or cost-return ratios—the guarantee of high profit in relation to reduced overhead (salaries, production costs, location fees, etc.). Advertisers are reluctant to invest in programs that are untested or are projected to have low repeat viewership. Program genres that are high on intellectualism, like science fiction, fantasy, and conceptual drama, often fail to develop mainstream appeal as the first few episodes set the stage for subsequent episodes; if we miss the beginning, the middle and end will make little sense. These shows are poison to advertisers—though the fan base is loyal it is not generally large. For advertising to be effective, and by effective we mean impacting sales, it must affect the greatest number of people possible (D’Alessandro, 2008).
Thus, it is no great secret that advertising pays for television and is the driving force behind those series’ that have garnered increased levels of viewership. Once a program gains momentum, the network—comprising the executive producer and the studio chief of advertising—begin marketing the show to advertisers, charging for the airtime during which a commercial appears. Some programs find that the advertising matches closely with the events on the show, an example of which is the Sears advertising during episodes of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, especially noticeable on the nights when Sears’ products are utilized by the cast. For shows that have reached iconic status, the highest bidder wins the coveted commercial time, generating huge profits for the producer, the distributor, the network, etc.
This is all fine and good when people stay tuned in for commercial breaks, but since an ever increasing number are turning to personal recorders (i.e. TiVo and DVD recording devices) or switching channels away from the advertisements, how are agencies expected to hit their target demographics? The answer is product placement, or what this paper argues will be the next wave of television production, product immersion. Television production is predatory; much like in the film development, buzzwords, hot topics, and financial successes spawn copycatting, a legal term that recalls childhood accusations of mimicry. Television history is rife with examples of copycatting, most of which go unprosecuted: GoBots and Transformers, The People’s Court and Judge Judy (among others), Saturday Night Live and MadTV (among others), the list could continue ad infinitum. Recently, ABC pulled Wipeout from American distribution due to copycat infringement of a Japanese originator. Despite the legal or ethical decision to borrow or appropriate from an original series, many programs that mimic the content of originating shows develop into profitable ventures—in spite of the competition they create. This leads one to suggest that television advertisers, not unlike television producers who share the same goal of generating profits, would be wise to follow suit.
Thus it is that two elements may herald a new dawn for television at the hands of Mad Men: the marriage of product placement/product immersion and the creative effort to attribute human-like qualities to such products, creating characters on a show that while lacking dialogue, have a greater impact on story than comparable supporting actors; and the notion that if something works once, it will work again and again and again, especially if it means profiting despite changes in audience viewing habits. As researchers, we would do well over the coming years to pay close attention to contractual agreements between distributors, advertising agencies, and network marketing departments to verify or disprove the theory presented here, or, to do as the infamous Deep Throat advised to Woodward and Bernstein, “Follow the money.”
Considerations for Future Research
Of course, this paper is in part speculative, relying on knowledge of genre while prognosticating future advertising and production decisions. Much like Postman’s (1985) work on human development as a result of television viewing, we can look at television development as a result of television, as odd as that sounds. Though commerce is the motivation for, and measuring stick of success, the creative interests find art to be the driving force behind television production. As such, the ability of an artist to bend the traditions of dramatic theater and narrative theory is both clever and innovative and is deserving of more study. As mentioned earlier, Sex and the City, Friends, and The Sopranos have been examined for the use of New York City as a character. As the city is not just buildings, streets, or subways, but a group of people, one might argue against the logic. A broader look into object as character would certainly be noteworthy both from a dramatic and communications perspective.
Although not discussed in depth, this paper mentioned that we live in an age of TiVo, DVD players, onDemand, and channel surfing. Some research, mostly quantitative in nature, has been done toward this subject (Brasel & Gips, 2008; Pompper & Choo, 2008; Friedman, 2003; Wirtz & Schwartz, 2001) but much remains to be uncovered. Qualitative analysis of television advertising in relation to the recent technological changes that have developed in response to the personal video recorder would provide necessary insight to television critics. Similarly, an examination of the advertising that precedes or is inserted into recorded shows should prove vital to this course of research.
Friedman (2003) quotes Jordan Levin, president of the WB network, who states that the majority of product integration deals fail, that advertisers and producers “are betting with (their) gut” (p. 2). Research might focus on this aspect of television advertising, the speculative and problematic issues of what Friedman terms product integration. Where Levin argues that product immersion is a gamble, the liquor portrayal on Mad Men is not so random. The show features alcohol as a supporting character, thus Jack Daniel’s is the perfect product for the series. Additional research should examine various contemporary television programs to determine what products currently belong or could have been successfully placed based on character and content. BMW’s short films and the failed ABC series Push, Nevada, which featured Toyota and Sprint exclusively, were nothing more than advertising vehicles, yet a study of the success and failure of these and similar ventures might aid both television producers and advertisers to more seamlessly integrate product without taking from the quality of the program or cast dispersion on the creative process.
Summary
Announcing alcohol as an agent in Mad Men, rather than a set prop, does not require much stretching of the imagination. Unlike the office and home furnishings that grace the Ossining and Manhattan locales, liquor plays an active role in shaping scene after scene by swaying major character behavior. We need only consider that the symbolic links we draw with alcohol may reference our own behaviors, motivations, intentions, and/or personal foibles while under the influence. We might also consider, humorously, that most of us have that acquaintance who has repeatedly told us that a particular brand of alcohol is his or her best friend! Similarly, as Shelly West sang in 1983: ”Jose Cuervo, you are a friend of mine.” If we accept the criteria stated above as a definition of supporting role, including our pop culture personifications, then certainly alcohol can be classified as such.
In considering Mad Men the vanguard of a new genre, only time will bear this out. If we assume that Weiner's brainchild continues to enjoy the critical achievement enjoyed in only two seasons, then we may assume that advertisers--always quick to duplicate success--will begin in earnest to provide financial backing for new shows that allow for product immersion. Mad Men has prominently featured cigarettes, an FCC no-no when it comes to advertising, but has circumvented regulations by linking them to Lucky Strike, a now defunct brand. Communication scholars would do well to keep a watch in the coming years for cell phone providers, soda vendors, and sundry product lines to make their starring debuts on our favorite shows. If in fact we begin to see this marriage of drama and not-so-covert advertising proliferate, the long range effect on how we analyze television will be drastically impacted.

References
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Cooke, R. (2009, February 16). The art of darkness. New Statesman, 138(4936), 46.
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D’Alessandro, K. J. (2008). Pilot programs. Museum of Broadcast Communications [Website]. Retrieved from http://www.museum.tv/eotvsection.php?entrycode=pilotprogram
Federal Trade Commission. (2003, September). Alcohol marketing and advertising: A report to Congress. Retrieved from http://www.ftc.gov/os/2003/09/alcohol08report.pdf
Ferraro, R., & Avery, R. J. (2000, Fall). Brand appearances on prime-time television. Journal of Current Issues and Research in Advertising, 22(2), 1-15.
Franklin, N. (2007, July 23). Dangerous liaisons. The New Yorker. Retrieved from http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/television/2007/07/23/070723crte_television_ franklin?currentPage=2
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Guthrie, M. (2008, July 21). From ad man to ‘Mad Men.’ Broadcasting & Cable, 36.
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No sick leave for the unemployed...

2009-11-01T08:21:00.000-08:00

Don't get sick.

I spent the last 6 days in a stupor,gunked up on Tylenol Severe Cold & Flu, Amoxicillin, Proventil, Xopenex, and box after box of Kleenex. A couple of Vicodin would have made things better, but I have sworn to only use them when my back flares up. I have been engaged in my annual bout with bacterial bronchitis and sinusitis and it could not have come at a worse time.

My girlfriend and hopefully-soon-to-be-fiancee had emergency surgery to have an ovary removed last Sunday afternoon, and I started showing symptoms while she was in surgery. By the end of the night, I was crashing hard and couldn't spend any time with her for recovery. Pneumonia is the primary concern, post-surgery, which means I needed to vamoose PDQ. I drove from Visalia to Rocklin Monday afternoon and haven't been out of bed since, excepting to go to the bathroom and stumble into the kitchen for the minimal sustenence my stomach could handle.

It is now the following Sunday, and I am just beginning to get strength back. My brain is finally clearing the fog; this illness leaves me in a vegetative state, with only baseline cognitive function. Oh well.

It has been a while since I blogged and I need to get back into the habit of writing. A week away from thinking means I need to rehab my writing skills. Until the next...

One of those quizzes that still makes me laugh, must have been in a mood that night.

2009-10-14T01:45:00.000-07:00

1. Where did you take your profile pic?
--While filming V for Vendetta with Hugo Weaving.

2. What exactly are you wearing right now?
--What are YOU wearing right now?

3. What is your current problem?
--Hey man, what's YOUR problem? Don't start in with me, bub.

4. What makes you the most happy?
--When I meet people like me, who don't feel that humans have any inherent worth.

5. What's the name of the song that you're listening to?
--"21 Things I Want in a Lover" by Alanis

6. Name someone with the same birthday as you?
--Herman Goering; Elisha Otis's first elevator is installed at 488 Broadway, New York City, in 1857.

7. Ever sang in front of a large audience?
--Jeremiah WAS a bullfrog.

8. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity?
--I get a few from time to time.

9. Do you speak any other languages?
--Rudimentary Ebonics, yo.

10. Has anyone you've been really close with passed away?
--Yeah, but I was pissed because he had the lane and should have taken the shot.

11. Do you ever watch MTV?
--Is that still on?

12. What's something that really annoys you?
--Endless quizzes and being told that there is someone else.

Chapter 1:
===============
1. Middle name:
--Jehosephat

2. Nickname(s):
--Asshole, cockknocker, douche, Susan

3. Current location:
--The ocean (get it? current?)

4. Eye color?
--Eye candy!

Chapter 2:
===============
1. Do you get along with your parent(s):
--Well enough, but I get along better with your mom.

2.Are your parents married/separated/divorced?
--Yes and no.

3. Do you have any siblings?:
--I call my friend Hiran a brother, but not in the family way. In the black person way--I think it means more.

4. Married? For how long?
--No thanks.

Chapter 3: Favorites
===============
1. Ice Cream:
--Gold Medal Ribbon and Mint Chip

2. Season
--Turn, turn, turn

3. Shampoo/conditioner:
--Shampoo is better. I go on first and clean the hair. Conditioner is better. I leave the hair silky and smooth. Oh really, fool? Really! Stop looking at me, swan...

Chapter 4: Do You...
==============
1. Dance in the shower?
--If by dancing you mean masturbating, then yes.

2. Do you write on your hand?
--No, silly, I write on museum exhibits!

3. Call people back?
--Do I call people black? What? Oh, sorry, misread that one. Yes, sometimes.

4. Believe in love?
--I believe in magic, in a young girl's heart.

6. Any bad habits?
--No thanks, I have plenty.

7. Any mental health issues?
--My clothes are on color coded hangers and must be hung, by category, from light to dark. Also, I wash my hands 22 times and occasionally yell obscenities at midgets. Pretty normal, really.

Chapter 5: Have You..
===============
1. Broken a bone?
Yep. A few of mine, too.

2. Sprained stuff?
--Cetainly.

3. Had physical therapy?
--Is that what you kids are calling it these days?

4. Gotten stitches?
--Stitches was my dog.

5. Taken painkillers?
--The more, the better.

6. Gone scuba diving/snorkling?
--Muff diving count?

7. Had your heart broken?
--Oh God, yes.

8. Thrown up at the dentist?
--True story. I flipped backward in the dentsist chair once, scared shitless, and kicked the "doctor" in the mouth on the way over. Knocked out one of his teeth. I was 8 or 9. Later found out he lost his license for doing illegal stuff--cheap fillings, substandard practices, etc.

9. Sworn in front of your parents?
--I swore not to.

10. Had detention?
--Unless I was lied to, I set the East Union record for most hours of detention to still graduate. My final tally was in the 400's, not counting Saturday schools (of which I had plenty).

Chapter 6: Who/What was the last...
===============
1. Movie(s)?
--"Harry Potter and the Hot No-Longer-Under-18 Chick So It's OK to Masturbate To Her Now." I think that's the title of the new one.

2. Three people that you texted?
--Marcie, Lauren, Laura

3. Person you called?
--Marcie
4. Person you hugged?
--Lauren

5. Person you tackled?
--O.J. Simpson.

6. Person you talked to on IM?
--I do not use IM. It's fer fags.

7. Thing you touched?
--I know you are expecting a dirty answer here, but the truth is my penis.

8. Thing you ate?
--Virgin cashews. I busted that nut.

9. Thing you drank?
--Two guesses. It rhymes with "pyatt depsi."

10. Thing you said?
--'Sup, douche. Hola, douche. What's crackin', douche?

Chapter 7: Other.
===========
1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
--Yes, everyone who was born before me.

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
--The season finale of Grey's Anatomy. Fucking cancer AND a bus crash.

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
--I write in Times New Roman.

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
--Roast Beef Curtains.

5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
--Not professionally.

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
--Oh hells yes. Mad skillz, nigga.

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM?
--Nooooo. Who would EVER use sarcasm?

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
--In a jar next to my bed.

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
--They don't make Bungee cord that strong yet.

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?
--Probably wheat.

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
--Fuck no. That's how I roll.

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE NUMBER?
--1138

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
--That vapid look in their eyes that says, "I don't know shit."

15. RED OR PINK?
--Hehe. You tell me.

16. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST?
--Stacs. No question.

17. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
--Trick question. I'm not wearing pants. But my shoes are white.

18. WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO ABOUT TOMORROW?
--Nothing. Tomorrow is an illusion, time is simply a flawed form of recordkeeping for the mindless who fail to realize that time does not move. All "time" is momentary, which means incalculable. What we consider past, present, and future happen simultaneously, culminating in the moment to which all illusions manifest minus causality.

19. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
--"The ceiling fan.

20. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
--If I were a crayon, I'd be plaid.

21. FAVORITE SMELLS?
--Favorite does smell. Like a Mexican. Or a sweat-stained bra.

22. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
--Again, Marcie.

23. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU?
--I do. Probably boned her.

24. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
--When I was 10 my parents asked me what I wanted for my birthday. I told them I wanted a watch. They let me.

25. HAIR COLOR?
--88% dark chocolate.

26. EYE COLOR?
--White with some black and brown.

27. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
--Not on purpose.

28. FAVORITE FOOD?
--You guessed it, vagina.

29. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
--Oh come on, really? Rub and tug with full release, please.

30. LAST TV SHOW YOU WATCHED?
--X-Files, season 1

31. SUMMER OR WINTER?
--Both good names.

32. HUGS OR KISSES?
--Both. Hugs with reach arounds. Sometimes, mommies and daddies give each other a special hug. And that's where puppies come from.

33. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
--Least likely to have a life.

34. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
--Billy Mays. He died for only $12.99. In fact, just for bieng one of the first 100 callers, I'm going to double the offer and say that Michael Jackson will also not be taking this quiz.

35. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
--Atlas Shrugged for the unpteenth time. The greatest book written on American soil by a Romanian-born, female author in 1957.

36. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
--Mouse menstrual blood. Yeah, I went there. You want to start something?

37. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT?
--Nothing.

38. FAVORITE SOUND(S):
--I'm making it right now.

39. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?
--Stones have the lead. Current score: Stones 4 - Beatles 2. Stay tuned.

40. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?
--Got me.

41. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
--I have a special purpose...

42. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
--More important is where I was born again! Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your lord and savior? I'd like to leave you with a complimentary copy of our magazine, Watchtower.

43. WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK?
--You can never go back.

44. WHO WAS YOUR FAVORITE TEACHER?
--Yoda. Dude is a badass.

45. WHAT'S YOUR BIGGEST GOAL/DREAM?
--Biggest goal came at the end of the 1996 Stanley Cup Finals. Uwe Krupp scores in thrid overtime for the 1-0 victory. Roy wins his second Cup, his first with the Colorado Avalanche, after allowing only 5 goals total in the four-game sweep of the Florida Panthers including a 63 save shutout in the final game.

San Dimas High School football RULES!!!

2009-08-09T07:44:00.001-07:00

Friday's event came and left in a blur. Five hours ended in what seemd like minutes, and the event was over before I had said hello to many. Saturday night was different. I sit here, a mere hour after having left, and feel as though I have missed yet another part of my life. There are few people I have been close to from our class, some for many years, other for a few months; even fewer are those whom I have called friend at all. Still, I can't help but feel that so many whose lives have intersected as the result of high school are inextricably bound, though not as survivors but comrades. There are lives I wish I could have been a part of long after mortar boards and gowns were lost. There are lives I wish I could have been a part of during university and/or childbearing years. They say that our formative years came long before high school, yet the adults I now wish were my longest friends were not the children I experienced high school with. I realize this sounds dramatic and a bit maudlin, but I regret having been so far removed from the lives of some amazing and fascinating people during these past twenty years. Class of eighty-nine, I recognize you.

Driving back to my hotel this evening, the last night of the East Union reunion, I had the music cranked up pretty loud and the windows down for cool air. Song after song came on, and I began to feel a touch wistful. Something hit me that I maybe hadn't realized before, that things--things which have always held sway over me, things that make my life easier, things that have brought me through stages of euphoria and sadness, things--have never replaced the feelings I thought I had lost. Class of eighty-nine, I have undervalued you.

I am not going to pretend that this is all new, revelatory knowledge, yet the feeling somehow struck a nerve in the car-- possibly because Duran Duran's "Planet Earth" queued on the CD player--that I have generally turned to music in times of crisis rather than to other people. The same can be said of movies, driving, food, and computer. As the song continued, I thought back on my old friend, the last one I ever really confided in, and how I somehow lost touch with humanity shortly after losing touch with her. Although I have gone through the motions with others, I am not positive I have been completely honest. Though this has slowly been changing, it took tonight's events to really remind me of what I have been dreadfully lacking. Class of eighty-nine, I have missed you

Cindy and I talked briefly of a few noticeable commonalities--divorce, breast enhancement, and weight gain--yet these are not the elements that have urged me to write this evening and morning. If I were asked to sum up my experience of this weekend, I would do so with a few key memories--those which will remain forever indelible. Not surprisingly, they all involve hugs. For these I am most grateful. I think what surprises me most is that I entered the reunion with no expectaions and find that had I taken the time to craft any, they would have been thoroughly smashed. Class of eighty-nine, I adore you.

I go forward from this weekend with a vow to remain closer to so many of you and an honest desire to know you better. I am just realizing (and it has been a process) that I need people more now than ever before, and this weekend reunited me with some who I would like to see the rest of time with. Class of nineteen eighty-nine, I am honored to have been a part of something so wonderful, and look forward to the next chapter of our lives.

Class of eighty-nine, I thank you

The weaker sex...

2009-06-18T23:06:00.000-07:00

I am torn up. Just needed to write and get some things off my chest. Not really looking for advice, just needed to vent a bit.

I met the most wonderful woman recently--funny, bright, beautiful, witty--the package deal. I have to admit, I have fallen hard. Sometimes you meet someone and it works into a deeper feeling; other times, there is instant chemistry, what is often confused with "love at first sight." I am not so shortsighted as to think I am in love, but the potential is there with her. One of those life changing, tell-stories-about-it-later kind of feelings.

The problem is she likes me, but not enough. She says there is something stopping her from letting go with me, letting herself get attached. She says she like to talk with me, thinks I'm funny, is physically attracted, and feels a strange desire to send me text messages at random times during the day. But there is something, and she doesn't know what it is, that is keeping her from opening up fully.

On the suggestion of a friend, I watched the film "He's Just Not That Into You," and it did not make me happy. I realized that I am GiGi. Jesus. Checking my phone constantly, wanting to do the drop-in at the places she hangs out (which I will NOT allow myself to actually do), all the crazy stuff that goes through the mind when one is smitten, which I am. But I know better than to be a stalker, or a creep, or a hanger-on. But insde, I am going a little nuts.

My thinking is now centered on something from the film, that if I back off, she will find me if she wants me. I am reminded of that trite old saying that begins, If you love something set it free... I just don't know. Both of my boobsicles have suggested I back away, that she will call when she wants to, and leave it at that. Put the ball in her court. It is a logical course, but I don't want to let go. I think I should, but I don't want to. That does make sense somehow.

What's truly crazy is that it has only been three weeks. Granted, we talked online for a while before ever going out, but it has not been long enough for me to feel this way--whatever that means. Still, I have not allowed myself to be regulating. Self-regulating, that is. I have put myself out there: been honest at every step, shared how I was feeling--even the romantic stuff, been ever the gentleman, been repsectful and kind, and shown interest both emotionally and romantically. I feel that I have done everything a man should do when courting, wooing a woman, but it still hurts that it is not reciprocal.

Anyhow, I feel better having written this down. The writing process is calming, and calm sounds really good right now.

Maybe I'll get out a book and do some light reading.

Where the Heart Is...

2008-11-14T01:58:00.000-08:00

Just an exercise to help us both, decribe "home" with as much detail as possible. Bear in mind, that it does not have to be a location, a residence, a dwelling, just that which makes sense.

I will post later as to why this odd request.

Let's go on holiday

2008-10-04T01:30:00.000-07:00

Mommy? Why is there a Santa Claus?

Well, dear, Santa was born on December 25Th, the same as Jesus. Since Jesus came to give the gifts of life and forgiveness to all men, Santa figured he, too, should bring presents to the world.

So he went to Australia and loaded a bunch of Pygmies onto his ships, put them in funny costumes, and called them elves. He taught them to speak English, trained them in carpentry, metalworking and welding, electronics, tailoring, and general contracting and instructed them to build a factory that rivaled even General Motors!

Santa collected the catalogs from Sears, Macy's, Toys R Us, KB Toys, Brookstone, and all the other stores and instructed his elves to make many, many duplicates of all the items therein.

Then he went to the Island of Dr. Moreau and, after some heated negotiation, convinced the good doctor to make 12 flying reindeer. He brought these back to his compound at the North Pole, which coincidentally is not under any country's jurisdiction in regard to labor laws, and placed his animals in a stable (also built by his "elves").

You see, son, Santa needed to bring gifts to all the world, just like Jesus did! That is why Santa does not bring toys to North Korea, Iraq, or Iran.

Santa is a lot like the Easter Bunny. When Jesus was crucified by the Romans and Jews, there was a little rabbit that sat at the foot of the cross. That rabbit was given magical powers by Jesus to lay multi-colored eggs, which he did all over Calvary Hill. Later that week, all the good Christian children came up and found the eggs, placing them in a basket, after which they counted them up to see how many each child had.

Now the rabbit also saw that the cross Jesus was on was made of wood. What color do you think the wood was? That's right it was brown! What else is brown? Chocolate! The very next year, the Easter Bunny not only hid eggs all over Jerusalem for good little Christian children, but in some of them he hid chocolate.

So you see, Christmas and Easter are really about the spirit of giving, and how Jesus came to save the world.

Anatomy Lesson

2008-08-26T20:49:00.000-07:00

On a whim, I picked up season one of Grey's Anatomy, just to find out what all the hoopla was about. Little did I know that I would be sucked into a soap opera, the likes of which I have never seen. Am I enjoying this trash only because of the clever casting, or the fact that it takes place in a hospital (since I am on House withdrawal), or simply because I needed some visceral, undemanding escapism?

I don't know, but I am on season three now.

Speaking of House MD: Is it just me, or did this program jump the shark already? Ditching the original interns for Kumar-minus-Harold, the bald jew, and the not-so-hot female interest was a huge mistake. Hugh Laurie should get out when he can, before being forever typecast as the guy who stayed on too long for the paycheck. If they bring in cousin Oliver for season five, the little faith I have left in Fox will have blinked out forever.

No pain, no gain?

2008-08-22T14:13:00.000-07:00

As a child, I would often find myself in a bit of discomfort, be it a toothache, cut, scratch, what have you. From somewhere in my developing brain came this idea that if I exacerbated the pain enough, purposefully, I wouldn't be bothered by it when it flared up. Turns out, the body doesn't work that way--I could have saved hours of poking and prodding my wounds, time better spent playing with Legos.

I am having a bad week, pain-wise, and once again the thought arises that if I punish myself enough, I will get used to the pain. That is, until I try to walk.

Every couple of months, three of my lumbar discs send out the signal that they need protection which causes my back muscles to swell, forming a protective cocoon around my lower spine. Problem is, the swelling impacts the spine in such a way as to pinch the sciatic nerve, paralyzing the right side of my body--or, if not paralyzing me, causing sever muscle cramps from the thigh to the calf and sending occasional electrical shocks from my back on down.

So, the cycle begins again and now you know why my blog has such an interesting name. For the last four days, Diet Pepsi, Aleve, Vicodin and Jeno's Pizza Rolls have been my mainstay. OK, I had some Reese's Pieces too, but those are small enough that they don't count against my diet...

I digress. People ask me why I walk with a cane sometimes, but not other times. They wonder what I have done to cause this condition. The answer is always the same: 19 years of hard drinking, doing drugs, and playing hockey have left me an occasional invalid. This is usually followed by an "I'm sorry" or a "That sucks" to which I invariably reply, "Don't be" or "Nah, it's OK."

This is no "My Name is Earl" situation, but I am coming to believe that Karma has a funny way of paying us back for our wrongs. For many, many years, I was not a very nice person. Those who know me well are quite aware of my dark sense of humor, that I have never held back a joke because of its offensiveness. The disabled were no exception.

Remember when our mothers told us that if we kept making "that face" we would get stuck that way? Well, I kept making those jokes.

The scientist in me says this is simply the result of a deteriorating spine, brought on by physical abuse and drug dependancy. The growing spiritual side of me begs to differ.

Regardless, this is my lot in life for right now and the only healthy approach I can muster is to accept that "it is what it is." I deal with it the best I can, and somehow find the strength to get up and take care of myself. This is just one more speedbump in the road to happy destiny. Needless to say, my sense of humor is changing...

19 years ago...

2008-08-17T00:52:00.000-07:00

...I entered college, San Joaquin Delta College. From there I went to Fresno State, then Cosumnes River College, then Fresno City College, then Delgado Community College. Get the picture?

I went back to school this year, to Sierra College in Rocklin, CA, as a beginning step toward finishing what I started. Now some may say that finishing what I started ends with my dying horribly in a fiery automobile accident, most likely putting in a CD while steering with my cock. Another theory posits that I overdose on Diet Pepsi and Vicodin while coupling a toothless woman behind a 7-11. Either is still a possibility, but I digress.

I received notice from Sierra that upon review of my past academic record, combined with the units I have earned over the last two semesters, that I am graduated and can expect my diploma in the mail very shortly! It may only be an Associate of Arts Degree, but for those who understand my story, this is remarkable. To date, three of my professors have offered to write recommendations when I am ready for my Masters program in two and a half years. To date, I have not received anything less than an 'A' in any course since coming back to school.

My reason for writing this is twofold--first, I am very proud of myself; second, I wish to pass a message to those of you who feel that it may be too late to do what you want with your life.

Do it. Go back to school.

Those of you in my age group (or older) have developed the wisdom that we saw our elders possess. We have lived through a few stages of development and have picked up a sense of self, of community, and of responsibility. We have held jobs that did not suit us; we have suffered the sadness of one who knows that time wasted is life unlived. We are in a position to be of service to ourselves and others.

It is not too late to make the life you want.

One-way Communication

2008-07-28T15:20:00.000-07:00

Been a while since I posted anthing, just feeling a bit frisky after getting my Comm. Studies 3 mid-term exam back. 100 possible points with 3 extra credit available--I got a natural 102. I set the curve which added 3 points for a whoppong 105/106. I am that good.

Also taking Health Ed. 2, dealing with personal health. I am not really learning anything in that class, but it has motivated me to get back on a healthier living trip. Down nine pounds sice I starting tracking my diet and eating from the right food groups. That's right, food groups. For those who don't know me well, I have never eaten vegetables. My parents would try to bribe me as a child, but at 6 years old I turned down $20.00 to eat one green bean so that should tell ya something. To date, I have tried on a few just to see what I was missing.

Dislikes:

Artichokes
Spinach as a stewed side dish
Broccoli
Cauliflower

Kind of like:

Spinach (in a salad raw)
All types of lettuce and salad greens
Tomato (on a sandwich or in pasta)

Could take or leave:

Avocado (tried it on a turkey sandwich and it really didn't add much flavor that I could tell)
Spinach (in pasta)

Coming soon, I will try corn on the cobb and, on a suggestion, asparagus. I figure the safe bet is to just order food from a menu and eat whatever comes on the plate. So far, so good.

The Boob Tube

2008-06-13T17:31:00.001-07:00

These are a few TV shows I am glad made the air. Television is a virtual trash heap, yet I am drawn like in like flies...

1. House MD -- I know, everyone loves this show. Still, the character development of this wunderkind diagnostician and those who surround him is the best example of ongoing scriptwork within the medium.

2. Life -- NBC released this comedrama without much fanfare, yet this first season effort is marvelous. Granted, I am biased as one of the main characters is a recovering alcoholic and the other has been to prison; still, the dialogue is fresh and witty, and the use of flashback, interview and zen reflection makes every scene worthwhile.

3. Drawn Together -- Nothing spiritual about this show. I feel drunk when I watch it, as it brings out the worst side of me. Still, the vulgarity is often tongue-in-cheek and always irreverent, and I think there will always be a part of me that enjoys dick and fart jokes. There is no better cartoon for pure filth done funny.

4. Battlestar Galactica -- I am not talking about the original 1970's show. SciFi Channel has reintroduced this premise in a dynamic, always emotional, rarely sci-fi format that is impossible to stop watching. Edward James Olmos is truly the star or what TV Guide calls "The Best Show You Aren't Watching," yet every member of the cast is wonderfully suited for the role they portray. I could type for hours, but I won't. Do yourself a favor and rent each season--it must be seen in order to have the full impact.

5. Survivorman -- This is my secret sin. As a Boy Scout, the merit badge I felt I truly had to earn was "Wilderness Survival." I was left alone for three days on Catalina Island with nothing more than a pocketknife, an experience that I still gain rewards from. On the show, Canadian survival expert Les Stroud is placed in the harshest, most remote places on earth with a camera and few supplies for a week, then documents the tactics necessary to stay alive. Each episode is a vicarious thrill ride; he is the ultimate Boy Scout.

6. My Name is Earl -- This show has reached it's nadir but in it's prime was brilliant. Jason Lee is the perfect neurotic ne'er-do-well who is trying to please karma by setting his mistakes right. Ethan Supplee is remarkable in his role as the dim-witted brother who often fails to see the big picture, yet provides familial love and strength to our anti-hero. Twelve steppers will often laugh at this weekly 9th step, making amends to those we had harmed. A communications class would marvel at the slippery slope scripting.

Once again, six is enough for now. Feel free to leave your own suggestions. Television, although mostly a vast wasteland, often has treasure waiting to be discovered.

Like a ripped up softball...

2008-06-06T17:18:00.001-07:00

So, Barry Bonds is going to stand trial on eighteen charges of lying to a grand jury. Shouldn't he be going on trial for fraud? It would be impossible to tabulate the number of young people whose lives will be forever poisoned by emulating a baseball player, using steroids with the same impunity that Bonds has. Barry should not only stand trial, every statistic and record attributed to him should be stricken from the history of the game. Major League Baseball would do itself a favor by distancing itself from this dishonest and toxic man.

Let me say that I hope he has an ounce of honesty left in him, that he can find it within himself to accept his own part in this travesty of his creation. Nothing would please me more than to see Mr. Bonds address the legion of baseball fans and admit his mistakes, begging for forgiveness. Pardon should not be granted him, but the gesture would begin him on a new path.

I am reminded of Bill Clinton, who faced a grand jury for committing consentual sex acts while married and serving as president, yet I cannot quite put these two in the same category. It could be argued that both men lied, both faced a grand jury, both committed fraud. There is a difference. Clinton did not use sex to better his career, to impress young people, to break records. Rather, he ran the country with an efficiency not seen in many generations; he simply sought sexual gratification outside of his marriage. Bonds, on the other hand, lied and used illegal controlled substances with no other goal than to selfishly pursue glory and fame. With any crime there exist certain elements: motive and opportunity. This is certainly a comparison of motives.

I quote Dictionary.com's definition of fraud: "deceit, trickery, sharp practice, or breach of confidence, perpetrated for profit or to gain some unfair or dishonest advantage." Bonds "achievements" on the baseball field have earned him millions of dollars and the adoration of fans, many of those being children, and certainly gained him an unfair advantage as his home run records will attest. Lying to a grand jury is the weakest of charges; if found guilty, civil and criminal charges should follow.

MLB, take note. Wipe this man from your annals, admonish him with expediency. The game will go on, but sanctioned steroid use can only hasten it's end.

Hockey's just another word for nothin' left to lose...

2008-06-05T01:07:00.000-07:00

Fuck the Red Wings.

Birthday Calculator

2008-06-04T17:47:00.000-07:00

I thought this was fascinating.

http://www.paulsadowski.com/BirthDay.asp

23 March 1971
Your date of conception was on or about 30 June 1970 which was a Tuesday.

You were born on a Tuesday
under the astrological sign Aries.
Your Life path number is 8.

Your fortune cookie reads:
Love asks me no questions, and gives me endless support. Shakespeare

Life Path Compatibility:
You are most compatible with those with the Life Path numbers 2, 4, 8, 11 & 22.
You should get along well with those with the Life Path number 6.
You may or may not get along well with those with the Life Path numbers 1 & 5.
You are least compatible with those with the Life Path numbers 3, 7 & 9.

The Julian calendar date of your birth is 2441033.5.
The golden number for 1971 is 15.
The epact number for 1971 is 3.
The year 1971 was not a leap year.

Your birthday falls into the Chinese year beginning 1/27/1971 and ending 2/14/1972.
You were born in the Chinese year of the Pig.

Your Native American Zodiac sign is Hawk; your plant is Dandelion.

You were born in the Egyptian month of Pachons, the first month of the season of Shomu (Harvest).

Your date of birth on the Hebrew calendar is 27 AdarI 5731.
Or if you were born after sundown then the date is 28 AdarI 5731.

The Mayan Calendar long count date of your birthday is 12.17.17.11.9 which is
12 baktun 17 katun 17 tun 11 uinal 9 kin

The Hijra (Islamic Calendar) date of your birth is Tuesday, 25 Muharram 1391 (1391-1-25).

The date of Easter on your birth year was Sunday, 11 April 1971.
The date of Orthodox Easter on your birth year was Sunday, 18 April 1971.
The date of Ash Wednesday (the first day of Lent) on your birth year was Wednesday 24 February 1971.
The date of Whitsun (Pentecost Sunday) in the year of your birth was Sunday 30 May 1971.
The date of Whisuntide in the year of your birth was Sunday 6 June 1971.
The date of Rosh Hashanah in the year of your birth was Tuesday, 21 September 1971.
The date of Passover in the year of your birth was Sunday, 11 April 1971.
The date of Mardi Gras on your birth year was Tuesday 23 February 1971.

As of 6/4/2008 8:46:45 PM EDT
You are 37 years old.
You are 447 months old.
You are 1,941 weeks old.
You are 13,588 days old.
You are 326,132 hours old.
You are 19,567,966 minutes old.
You are 1,174,078,005 seconds old.

Celebrities who share your birthday:
Keri Russell (1976) Chaka Khan (1953) Roger Bannister (1929)
Doc Watson (1923) Wernher Von Braun (1912) Akira Kurosawa (1910)
Joan Crawford (1904)

Top songs of 1971
Joy to the World by Three Dog Night
Maggie May by Rod Stewart
It's Too Late by Carole King
One Bad Apple by Osmonds
How Can You Mend a Broken Heart by Bee Gees
Knock Three Times by Dawn
Brand New Key by Melanie
Go Away Little Girl by Donny Osmond
Family Affair by Sly & the Family Stone
Gypsies, Tramps & Thieves by Cher

Your age is the equivalent of a dog that is 5.31819960861057 years old. (You're still chasing cats!)

Your lucky day is Tuesday.
Your lucky number is 9.
Your ruling planet(s) is Mars & Pluto.
Your lucky dates are 9th, 18th, 27th.
Your opposition sign is Libra.
Your opposition number(s) is 6.

Today is not one of your lucky days!

There are 292 days till your next birthday
on which your cake will have 38 candles.

Those 38 candles produce 38 BTUs,
or 9,576 calories of heat (that's only 9.5760 food Calories!) .
You can boil 4.34 US ounces of water with that many candles.

In 1971 there were approximately 3.7 million births in the US.
In 1971 the US population was approximately 203,302,031 people, 57.4 persons per square mile.
In 1971 in the US there were approximately 2,158,802 marriages (10.6%) and 708,000 divorces (3.5%)
In 1971 in the US there were approximately 1,921,000 deaths (9.5 per 1000)
In the US a new person is born approximately every 8 seconds.
In the US one person dies approximately every 12 seconds.

In 1971 the population of Australia was approximately 13,198,380.
In 1971 there were approximately 276,361 births in Australia.
In 1971 in Australia there were approximately 117,637 marriages and 12,947 divorces.
In 1971 in Australia there were approximately 110,650 deaths.

Your birthstone is Aquamarine

The Mystical properties of Aquamarine

Aquamarine is often used to experience love and mercy. It is said to help ease depression and grief.
Some lists consider these stones to be your birthstone. (Birthstone lists come from Jewelers, Tibet, Ayurvedic Indian medicine, and other sources)

Jade, Rock Crystal, Bloodstone

Your birth tree is

Hazelnut Tree, the Extraordinary
Charming, undemanding, very understanding, knows how to make an impression, active fighter for social cause, popular, moody and capricious lover, honest and tolerant partner, precise sense of judgement.

There are 204 days till Christmas 2008!
There are 217 days till Orthodox Christmas!

The moon's phase on the day you were
born was waning crescent.

How High?

2008-06-04T17:14:00.001-07:00

This Myspace reunion business has been a blessing in disguise. When I left Manteca and it's denizens behind, I swore I would never look back except to laugh at the gawky, inept, unsure child that my future confidence-enriched manhood would leave behind. Except for two whom I had become close with, I had no desire to keep in contact with any of the small-minded, local yokels that were my peer group. I am reminded on a daily basis of the photo album mentality that has plagued me for much too long.

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances
And one man in his time plays many parts.

Thus begins Jacques in "As You Like It" and how true. I played the fool too often; at other times the self-styled mystic. That stage in my life was marked by the selfish and self-serving desire for popularity. I am sure that in high school I had not heard the phrase, "There is no such thing as bad publicity," but I am sure that was my subconscious motto. Ever reaching for attention, grabbing for the spotlight at every turn, always off the mark--even at an early age, I was dominated by an ego that sought the superficial and craved attention without any respect for self-esteem.

It would be easy to chalk up these behaviors to youthful indiscretion, but I know better. I was merely an ass. So many young women with whom I tried to rob of their purity and classmates who were willing to befriend me whom I later betrayed. I know I cannot go backwards and rewrite the past, nor would I wish to. Instead, I write of the present.

My life today is one of spiritual development, and efforting to behave differently. I have learned to stop apologizing as those who know me are tired of empty "I'm sorry's." What I do today is attempt to bridge the differences my actions, words, and behaviors have forced, seeking peace from situations left unresolved. Pardon me for taking the spotlight one more time, as there are many who are more deserving. But to those in my past who may come upon this, be it known that you mean more to me today than I could have imagined. The memories I have of past times are viewed through a different lens--rose-colored, if you will. As I lack those valuable personal experiences from which to base the man I am becoming, I rely on the those traits in the best of you to build a foundation for living. In effect, I employ the best of you as I attempt to become the best me. For this, I thank you for being the wonderfully amazing people you are.

I wish you nothing in this life but joy and serenity.

I Want a Watch

2008-06-03T21:33:00.000-07:00

Films I cannot live without. OK, I could probably live without them, but they are really good nonetheless...

1. Union Pacific (1939)--In a film year marked by "Gone With the Wind" and "The Wizard of Oz", this Cecil B. DeMille epic ranks among the greatest. Barbara Stanwyk, as dynamic as she is, is outshined by Robert Preston in a role that would define the maverick hero.

2. Dr. Strangelove, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)--Peter Sellers is at his comedic best, playing three roles throughout the film. His portrayal of the title character would pave the way for physical comedians like Harvey Korman and Mike Myers. Golden moment in scripting, "Gentleman! You can't fight in here; this is the war room!" Slim Pickens' bull ride on the nuclear bomb is film history. Kubrick may be noted for his more serious work, but this gem is still funny today.

3. 300 (2006)--A film that is best served by the big screen, 300 is a wonderfully brutal tale of honor, dedication, and reverence. It is too bad Sam Peckinpaugh never had CGI technology, nor the time in history with which to make such a film. There is no finer example of film violence placed in context of it's subject.

4. Goodfellas (1990)--I hesitate to place this film on the list, as I could just as easily place "Citizen Kane", "The Ten Commandments", and the other film greats but in the recent era, there have been no better made films. From the tracking shot through the Copacabana to the sped up, quick cut denouement, Scorsese built the ultimate film fans paradise. Every close up is impactful, every dolly shot necessary. Every first year student should watch this film from the directors perspective if only to see how good films are shot.

5. The Legend of 1900 (1998)--Writer/Director Guiseppe Tornatore calls this story a fable although I am still unsure of the moral. Regardless, I do not believe there was ever a film that so deftly introduced music as a main character. Clarence Williams III makes a memorable turn as Jelly Roll Morton opposite Tim Roth in the title role. Yes, the title role. His character, Danny Boodmann T.D. Lemon Nineteen Hundred, is known affectionately as simply 1900. The special effects are are the only real dim spot on this marvelous film, but the story more than makes up for it.

6. Hero (2004)--This epic story of the lone assassin could be the greatest example of the use of color in film history. Yimou Zhang took a back seat to Christopher Doyle for the cinematic elements and the result was nothing short of visual brilliance. At times melodramatic, at other times touching, this movie fails deliver with wonderfully adapted fight scenes and expansive landscapes which fill the senses. Jet Li rarely fails to deliver and this performance is among his best. I was reminded of John Wayne--the quiet cool, the confident posture.

Six is a good start. Feel free to add more titles as I will update this list over time.

I call "No Joy"

2008-06-03T14:12:00.000-07:00

Negative Ghost Rider. The pattern is full.

I need something. I am not sure what it is, but I know I need it. Everything in my life is a "pretty soon" or an "almost there" but nothing is right now. This is entirely opposite of everything spiritual I have come to believe, yet there it is. I like Eckhardt Tolle's earlier work, from his "Power of Now" collection, and try to remember to make every moment enjoyable. But I am still human, still plagued by the ego-as-pain-body and I want to have fun. Now.

Times like these are dangerous. It is in these moments that I want to eat everything I see, I want to drive somewhere exotic, I want to break something. Random destructiveness takes the form of self abuse, physical wrath, and isolation. The strange thing is that I am not unhappy. I am content. Maybe that is where the danger lies: complacency. Everything is going according to plan, my ducks are in a row. I may being trying to emotionally self-sabotage in order to create drama. Drama creates unease; unease creates havoc; havoc creates mayhem.

My ego is not dead. The pain body is rearing it's ugly head because my spiritual side is nearing apex. I have recently begun a transformation toward an enlightenment and can recall the taste of momentary serenity. The ego does not wish to die. The watcher is watching. Permission to buzz the tower.

I need all-you-can-eat Chinese food and a nap. Don't forget the Diet Pepsi.

The Joy of Rex

2008-05-23T00:34:00.000-07:00

I was at a meeting tonight and the topic, as it often will, turned to God and the ability to balance a life based in faith with the realities of daily living. As the token non-traditional spiritualist in the room, I felt compelled to pitch in my two cents but as usual, the best thing I could have said didn't cross my mind until I was finished.

Luckily, AA does not require one to find any traditional or defined God to be the higher power mentioned in the book. This to me is one of the wonderful facets of Alcoholics Anonymous. In early sobriety, my sponsor and I went round for round on the concept of God, and eventually we were willing to settle on the agnostics prayer:

God, if there is one,
Save my soul
If I have one.

It turns out that was enough to get started. Granted I never really had a concept of God--the closest I came was screaming, "Oh God!" OH GOD!" during sex. Beyond that, belief was not in my scope of understanding. In the life lived purely on self will, how can one ever abide by the laws of a God if he or she places carnal impulse before everything else? I truly believe it is imposible to be faithful if you drink alcoholically. Unless you are Moses.

This is not to say I haven't developed a sense of spirituality. What I believe isn't important to anyone but me, but I do from time to time refer to the order of the universe as God for expedience and commonality. Keeping this in mind, I heard a gentleman recently who said something to the effect of:

Occasionally I hear a person say they feel like their relationship with God is not there like it used to be, that there is a separation or a distance between God and themself. I always ask, "Which of you moved?"

This is a wonderful way to look at it. Regardless fo a persons faith, the burden of keeping faith alive falls squarely on the shoulders of the faithful. There will be signposts and reminders, coincidences, synchronicities, and serendipities, but the man of faith must be willing to lay aside blame and take action to recover that which seems distant or lost. This is one of the wonderful aspects of sober living through AA--we are surrounded by people who know the same feelings of joy and sadness, pain and overcoming, grief and rejuvenation, faith and crisis. By asking for guidance and following the suggestions of others, we are able to leave the ego to itself and return to the state of being which is in the sunlight of the spirit.

AA is made up of people of varying faiths, dogmas and non-beliefs with varying levels to each; despite the differences in opinions, we get sober together and build fabulous lives. We are each benefitted by the faith of others, and by encouraging everyone to build a solid foundation with the higher power of their choosing we all gain. Every Christian, Muslim, Jew, Pagan, and Good Orderly Direction* seeker who applies the principles of the program of Alcoholics Anonymous and the tenets of his or her faith to their life spreads good will, peace, and joy to all in the rooms. By doing so, everyone they meet can be raised up by the power that comes from the love and strength that faith breeds. I am a better man when I deal with people of strong faith, no matter the deity. Those I meet can be uplifted by the positivity that comes from my faith as well, and it only passes on.

It is throught this idea that tolerance is solidified and acceptance takes root. Once we recognize that the differences in others, when speaking of spiritual matters, benefits everyone do we begin to meet people with a new, open, and non-judgemental attitude. We can only grow from those whose lives are made attractive by their belief in something greater than themselves.

*Not just those listed, but referring to all faiths which promote positive living and healthy attitudes.

I've Got to Have More Cowbell...

2008-05-22T00:06:00.000-07:00

My favorite SNL Sketches, at least of the ones I can remember:

1. The Jeopardy parodies. Hands down the funniest thing ever. Ben Stiller as Tom Cruise, Toby Macguire as Keanu Reeves, some spot on comedy.

2. Let's Talk Books. Josh Jackson sketch featuring a discussion of literature including such books as "Lights Out at the Boys School" by the husband and wife team of Holden and Sharon Dix, "The Tiger's Revenge" by Claude Bauls, and the excellent review of voyeurism by Richard Sawyer and Alan Busch called "The Sawyer Busch Report."

3. Terrence Maddox. Will Ferrel's homeless heroin addict posing nude for art classes. Classic Will Ferrell.

4. Der Lacheln Beherrscht. Parody of German gothic television, in this case a children's show featuring frightening images and disturbing hosts.

5. Wong and Owens. Tracy Morgan and Jim Breuer in the title roles as retired 1970s porn stars trying to fit into the regular world. The secretary sketch with Alec Baldwin is a classic.

6. Sportscenter. Ray Romano as a first time ESPN anchor who doesn't understand how to use sports metaphors. "David Robinson drives to the hoop like a slave who made it to the north." Pure irreverence.

7. Sheila Choad's LA Face. Brilliant sketch about the use of botox on women in LA. Rachel Dratch steals the show, but all of the performers shine.

8. Good Morning Meth. Jason Lee as the host of a show filmed in a double-wide trailer that doubles as a meth lab. The show that "started out as a morning show, then stretched into a morning and afternoon show, then became an all day show." Truly brilliant drug humor.

9. Merv the Perv. I still wonder how they got this on the air. Chris Parnell as the office perv. Especially funny is the Colin Farrell episode, which features the classic line spoken to the pregnant Maya Rudolph, "If there's twin girls in there, this could be my first three-way." Never gets old.

10. Space, The Final Frontier. Will Ferrell's finest hour on the show. He plays Chicago Cubs announcer Harry Carey as the host of a science fiction interview show. I can't help but wonder if he didn't ad-lib much of it as Jeff Goldblum, in the role of a Ph.D. astro-physicist, seemed completely off guard upon hearing some of the questions. "We all know the moon isn't made of cheese, right doctor? If the moon was made of barbecued ribs, would you eat it?" Brilliant.

More to come later...

The Female Persuasion

2008-05-18T22:53:00.001-07:00

I am 37 years old, never married, one illegitimate child I do not have contact with, live with my parents and their cats, don't have a job or a license, drive a moped, am overweight, losing my hair and have a bad back and a bum leg. I am every woman's dream date. I should be on the cover of Tiger Beat.

Interestingly enough, I am one of the happiest guys I know. Sobriety has changed every aspect of my life and I am the better for it. I sleep at night knowing that my life once again has potential, that my current college experience will enable me to have a career doing something I absolutely love, that despite the outward appearance I am a man of integrity, responsibility, morality and love.

One thing I lack is an understanding of women. I know the old story--women like bad boys, jerks, men who make them feel bad. I see this all around me and wonder how a man like me can ever find someone to make me whole. What do women want? The magazine surveys would have us believe that a sense of humor is a top priority yet funney men never get taken seriously. Appearance is always close to the bottom of the list, so long as the man is honest and trusting, yet the good looking men never go single unless they choose to. What gives?

Do women lie when they take surveys?

Let me say very bluntly, I have no malice toward women. I am not one of those misogynists that likes to see women hurt, cry or fail. I am not a sexist, nor am I a traditionalist. I am just curious about their behavior. I know a few couples that are very happy, well-adjusted, and completely loving. They are not afraid to wear matching shirts to the mall or say I love you every time they end a phone conversation. I envy that kind of relationship. Despite my outward cynicism, I suppose I am an idealist--an old romantic.

So where are the women who get into those relationships? They aren't at the mall, or in the bars that's for sure. I don't see them at school. Do those types of women become that way once they find the right man, or are they naturally thoughtful and caring? I guess I wonder if those kind of women, ideal women, that I admire are rare gems that occur in nature or if they slowly become admirable. I wonder...

Summer Vacation

2008-05-14T03:19:00.001-07:00

I wish I had something wonderful to write about, but my granddad says to write everyday regardless of content so here goes nothing.

My summer vacation consists of two weekends with five days in between. This last weekend, Robyn and I went to Dixon, Vacaville, and San Francisco as she was in town to catch up.

We hit the Dixon Mayfair on Friday night and it made me remember how glad I am to have a new life. We sere surrounded by wanna-be thugs, some people who obviously smoke waaaay too much crank, and kids whose parents don't care enough. I had a corndog (delicious, I love carnival food!) and listened at a distance to ZZ Top who are not aging well. They were the performer that night and I was really disappointed. Oh well, we had some good laughs.

Saturday we went to the city and did some touristy crap. Pier 39, always a favorite with me. We saw a street performer, a juggler, who was pretty damn good. Funny to boot. He didn't want to see my trick, where I juggle two balls. His loss, I'm sure! We left from there to the Golden GatePark and tooks some pics at the base of the bridge. My first comment was on the lack of security--I guess domestic terrorism is no longer a threat as two guys with rocket launchers could have stood where we were and taken down the bridge if they were so inclined. Reminds me about all this fear business the administration has forced down our throats since 9/11 and made me laugh at the ineptitude of our fraudulent "leaders."

From there we went to Sausalito and walked around downtown for a while. I have been looking for a really nice cane, but it was not to found on this trip. Regardless, that is such a quaint little town and was very relaxing. Back to the hotel in Dixon afterwards. The drive was punctuated by a little game called "come up with all the euphemisms you can for sex acts and parts." George Carlin would have been proud.

On Sunday, we visited Robyn's family and friends then went back to Sactown for dinner with Kristy and Galen at Brookfields. Note to self: Go back there for the banana cream pie. It was awesome. The perfect end to a long weekend.

This trip taught me something very important. Aleve is God's gift to people with sciatica. But I still want a nice, wooden cane, preferably with flames on it like my hero Greg House owns. Online search, here I come.

That's enough. No witty flair today, no insightful commentary; just recollecting my weekend so I will remember it a few years from now. Ta ta for now, loyal readers.

Wordplay

2008-05-08T12:13:00.000-07:00

"You're one in a million,"
That's what she said
As a raindrop fell
Upon my head.

The Legacy Paper

2008-05-06T19:42:00.000-07:00

My life to this point has been well lived and I have given little thought to what I may leave behind. When I say well lived that means simply I have borne witness to life's myraid ups and downs. I have lived in many places; I have worked in many fields; I have seen the darkest side of men; I have seen glorious works. When asked what I hope to leave this world with upon my passing, I have not much to say.

For most of my life I was a selfish man. This life has been marked by periods of wrongdoing but recently I have found redemption. For many years, I sought to destroy all that surrounded me. I took great pleasure in seeing men of faith lose conviction at my words. I sought men whose lives were at crossroads with the express intent of escorting them toward doom. I robbed the downtrodden of their remaining posessions. I used women as playthings to satisfy my carnal desires knowing I would break them spiritually in the process. My ego had reduced me to a primal force of evil and I knew only how to survive as an animal does. The difference being that I had relished the dark side and reveled in its depravity.

This is not an excuse, merely my reality for context, but I am an alcoholic. My adolescent years left a sour taste in my mouth despite having been raised with privelege. My family provided me with all the trappings of success that allowed me to run in the "proper" circles. My acquaintances were popular, well dressed, and of a wealthier class. My status allowed a certain freedom not offered those of a lower socio-economic upbringing. Regardless, I learned no appreciation of life or of living. I watched television to find an identity because I did not know who I was. I listened to music to tell me how to feel because I was incapable of naturally feeling. I did what others did because it was more important to be in the crowd than outside of it. This is the story of a sociopath.

I began drinking in my early teens, and from the first taste of booze, I was hooked. Alcoholics describe this as a feeling of ease and comfort that only a drink can provide. By the time I reached the age of majority, I was a daily drinker and sneaking liquor into every activity. School, work, social events, family functions, no place was sacred to this alcoholic. It is almost comical to think I was lauded for my tolerance instead of warned, but those were different times. In that world, the alcoholic was the bum under the freeway, the paper sack hobo at the train depot.
My military career was cut short because, as an alcoholic and a malcontent, I was unable to be honest. I lied to everyone and had made a skill of balancing one lie on top of another. When my medical records showed I was unfit for service, I was sent packing despite having the top scores on the aptitude battery and a contract that included officer status in the intelligence division. College was no different. School took a backseat to the "good times" and within 4 years I had been bounced from 5 colleges. The final school has no transcript as I withdrew from every class. Something must have changed over the last twenty years—the professors have gotten much smarter. I seem to remember being much more knowledgeable than all of my teachers back then…

The years following are mostly a blur of location changes, failed relationships, and jobs that never quite panned out. From alcohol I experimented with drugs. This brought me into a world I never expected nor could have imagined. I have never been one to do things lightly and drugs and alcohol were no exception. I drank hard, I partied hard, and I immersed myself into a subculture that seemd to survive on violence and dirty dealing. My life at that point was lived from trrunks of cars and barrooms, from dingy apartments to hotels. I am lucky to be alive although at the time, I would have debated that. I will omit most of the details of that time for two reasons: I can't remember much of it, and I do not wish to. What I choose to remember is the darkness in my soul. I use that today as a guidepost; it is a reminder of the man I wish to never again become.

Three years ago marks my rebirth into reality. I choose the word reality because I do not belive I existed in any real sense. I had become a dead man spiritually and emotionally. I hit the proverbial bottom and nothing has been the same since. There is one other signpost from my past that remains constant. The following is something I wrote recently and I include it for reference:

--------------------------------------

Purity

I am an impure man. That is, I have impure thoughts, my desires lack piety. I may have always been a man of tastes less than dubious. But this is not to say I haven't known purity; in fact, for a while my only effort was to be near it as possible as though if I could borrow it for a bit, that somehow I could know the glory of sanctity without having to be saintly. Despite this revelation, I cannot tell you when I learned this truth: I am an impure man.

My younger years were split between two houses--one of love and trust, wholeness, the other of debauchery and glory, pride. I found it convenient to pass between the two, satisfying both my carnal urges and my dutiful nature whilst never committing fully to either. That is not exactly true, in either state I was fully committed, but only during the time spent there. It is possible to commit one hundred percent of one's effort only part of the time.

To the one side, lust. In my case, it was the need to feel popular. It wasn't enough just to be, but to be liked, or wanted, was vastly more satisfying emotionally. I lusted for sexual conquest to make me feel needed and to raise my status in the eyes of men. I lusted for companionship, the kind that enjoyed my happy-go-lucky lifestyle and my liberal attitude toward revelling. I lusted for a life impressioned on popular culture without realizing I was not on the silver screen.
In contrast to that beast I could become, I also had a more serious side. I had a friend who showed me about trust, and honesty. I was able to share with her my feelings and know that they were not being judged. I was able to be vulnerable without fear of being hurt. I was able to be enthusiastic about small things, not feeling pressure to glorify them. I had that sense of purity when we were together, that nothing in the world mattered but two people sharing a love that was not hindered by romance or constrained by opinion. She was my shelter from the hurricane of adolescent insecurity that stormed haphazardly from and through my developing ego. I once had a safe place.

Before long, one side became more powerful and in this, the most rare of circumstances, force overcame power. My need for outside validation overcame my desire for love and nothing has been the same since. It was not long after our friendship was put in the back seat that my life began to motor out of control. Without a safe haven, my unchecked desires rampaged, deadening my ability to judge the world sanely or rationally. My ego, now grandstanding, assumed superiority--my self worth improving with every close call, every escape, every conquest. The vanquished was my abilty to love, to appreciate humanity, to come home.

I remember reaching out for purity throughout. I would cling to good people, but only so I could destroy them. I sought the company of the religious in order to contradict them. I paid close attention for those on the virge of becoming cynical and pushed them toward that end. I realize now I did these things because I was hoping they would stand firm and reintroduce me to the decency they knew, that I once knew. My depth of personal disconnectedness must have progressed beyond salvation for in those times I met such people, I could not be brought back into the light of reason.

Much has changed since then. Only three years ago, I hit a bottom so deep I thought death was my only solution. As is the case with any ego that inflates to critical mass, the explosion can only leave decimation. My life no longer could be viewed as linear, but rather particulate. One more close call that wasn't so close. For some reason, my life somehow became minutely valuable enough to try and stage a comeback. As much as death seemed the only way from pain, I didn't want to die. Three years seems like such a small bit of time, but for me it has made all the difference. It's not important for this purpose what I did, or the help I received. What is important was the willingness to seek it, the open-mindedness to accept it. The honesty it takes to stare oneself in the mirror and face the truth of the past and the absolute value of the refelection in the present.

My old friend has since passed away. I remember her. I remember her smile, I remember our jokes, I remember love as it should be--as it should always be. Of course I speak in absolutes but why the hell shouldn't I? True love is perfect. I remember in particular something she told me. "It doesn't have to be that way," she said. I asked her what way she meant, but she didn't answer. She was good like that. I know what way. I always knew what way.

I sometimes wish I hadn't lived the way I did, that I could have chosen differently. I read somwhere that power always wins over force. Force may take battles, but true power wins wars. I have used force for the longer part of my life, but I have come to understand power in a completely new way. I am beginning to see love as a thing of beauty once again. I am beginning to value trust once again. Honesty once more holds sway over my decisions. I may not be a pure man, but I have a foothold. I once loved purity and it loved me back. And this I shall never forget.

-------------------------------------------

This brings me to the message of my life. I carry with me now the memory, vague as it is, of something wonderful but also the understanding of who I am becoming. Sobriety is the cornerstone of my life, the construct of my destiny but the memory of something pure is the motivation for my ideals. I am asked what legacy I wish to pass along to the world on the event of my passing and this is it: I wish to leave the world exactly as I found it. I have learned one or two things over the years and sometimes fail to keep them in my conscious, but the world was here when I arrived and it will go forward I am gone.

I believe I have a small part to play here; my goal is to be of service to those who call out for it. As a recovering alcoholic, I am uniquely qualified to be of service to other alcoholics. For as long as I can remain sober, I am pledged to service. This comes with the knowledge that I cannot keep anyone sober, only that I can show people what I have done and help them follow that path if they so choose. Part of that pledge demands I be somewhat selfish. My sobriety must come first if I am to pass it along to others. I help other men on the road to sobriety because it reminds me where I come from and what I can be again if I fail to remain diligent.

I also pledge to myself to never let my happiness come at the expense of another person. I am committed to finding joy in this world and to finding peace in my heart. I will not let anyone dictate the terms of my success nor will I impose my beliefs on another at the expense of their joy. I will not provoke man to violence; I will not incite man with deceit; I will not harm another except in self-defense; I will not prey on the charity of other men. I am vigilant in regard to my self-worth and am dedicated to raising my self-esteem, but these will not come at the hands of another losing his.

Lastly, I keep with me the memory of my departed friend and effort to behave in a manner befitting one who knows the value of love. The man I was once able to be is the man I am to be. Hers was the greatest gift I have ever known and with honesty, open-mindedness, and willingness I will forever carry that gift into the future.

Legacy

2008-05-06T08:29:00.001-07:00

The final assignment for my Dialogues in American Culture class is an essay containing a contract with myself as to my dreams and how to achieve them. It is supposed to be a lecture on the legacy I wish to leave for this world upon my passing. I have much to think about and I am sure that ten years from now, my goals will have changed. The assignment is based on the lecture from Randy Pausch, linked below.

Take an hour from your life and enjoy this speech:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ji5_MqicxSo

My life to this point has been a constant battle between satisfying my primal and carnal goals and being afraid of my emotions. Battling internal fear with outward recklessness. In reality it is foolishness. Somewhere along the line, my ego convinced me that challenging my surface is equal to challenging my soul but I now know this to be false.

Coming soon: My Legacy Paper...

Math is for nerds

2008-05-02T13:13:00.001-07:00

I think I aced my math test today--such a dork. I'll find out Monday, but I took the second half of class to recheck every problem and corrected the two simple mistakes I made. I still get a little nervous before tests, but I study hard and find that I feel really good after they are finished. Yay school. Yay me.

April is almost over...

2008-04-29T03:23:00.000-07:00

...and I still have no idea why:

1. People speak louder to the deaf and to foreigners.
2. Bush is still president. If this were a company, he'd have been fired years ago. Maybe he's in a union.
3. Plastic water bottles say not to refill them. Since when does plastic have a contamination factor with reuse? What about Tupperware?
4. They don't make Left Guard for the other armpit. Talk about a wasted opportunity.
5. College students can't utter one sentence without um, like, you know. I know what you are going to say--Oh. My. God.
6. Fox is allowed to use the word "news" to title any of their shows.
7. It's OK for women to pull their underwear from their butts anytime, anywhere; but if I rearrange my testicles, I am a creep. For you it's uncomfortable, for me it's painful.
8. Detroit is up two games to none vs. the Avalanche. Do they not recognize superiority when they see it? Show some respect, you Red Winged assholes!
9. For that matter, Detroit's hockey team is called the Red Wings. I'd bet that story has a really funny ending... What's the name of their soccer team, The Rusty Trombones?
10. My dry cleaning always comes back missing a button. Sew it back on for chrissake.
11. Jeff Murdock left Coupling. He killed the funniest show in a long time.
12. I have a VCR. Oh wait, nevermind, it the antique porn.

Have a nice May!

Last night

2008-04-27T10:09:00.000-07:00

Almost forgot, I was at Starbucks last night and I ran into Celine Dion. I know, right? How the hell does that happen?

Anyhow, I looked up, recognized who was in front of me, and asked, "Hey Celine, why the long face?"

She didn't think it was funny either.

So that's how it works, eh?

2008-04-27T10:02:00.000-07:00

So, I didn't read "Death of a Salesman." I read "A Doll's House" by Henrik Ibsen and wrote six pages instead of four. My conclusion? I don't have one. It isn't really a great play, but it isn't horrible either. I was left with that odd feeling, like a first date with a person you aren't interested in sharing a long term relationship with--waiting for the sex, disappointed with the result, a little bitter afterward.

Maybe I should have read Arthur Miller instead.

arrrrgh

2008-04-26T16:47:00.000-07:00

That is not a pirate arrgh, but a frustrated arrgh. I have to read "Death of a Salesman" today and write 4 pages on on whether I think it is a good play or not. I have to be a drama critic. I know, yuck. Oh well, has to be done so I will write more tomorrow...

Ciao baby

My First Semester?

2008-04-25T15:04:00.000-07:00

I am realizing how quickly this semester has gone by and thought I would take a few minutes to recap some of the highlights. If I don't do this, they will fall into the gaping chasm that is my memory, never to be recovered.

This is my attempt at finishing college, what I failed to do in the early 90's because I was very immature for my age and blessed (or cursed) with a body that could process vast amounts of alcohol and drugs effortlessly. School always seemed to get in the way of my drinking, which is why my transcript is filled with courses like "War and Revolution in Russian Film" and "Led Zepplin vs. The Rolling Stones, Who Rocked Harder?" Okay, I made up the second one, but it isn't a stretch...

This go around, I have involved myself with not just my classes but the extra-curricular activities I found intriguing: Philosophy Club, Literature Club and Sierra Film Society at the forefront. One of my four classes, "Dialogues in American Culture" is not much different than a club, my classmates and I are required to attend cultural events and promote activist causes of our choosing.

Because of this assortment, I have been to SF to see the Chinese New Year Parade, Berkeley to listen to Elaine Pagels speak on Gnosticism and the Revelation, films on all manner of international human rights and civil liberties violations (most notable, Invisible Children) and been exposed to people and ideas I hadn't imagined.

http://www.invisiblechildren.com/movie

For my class projects, my group set up a table to distribute flyers and pamphlets in an effort to mobilize people toward letting their congresspeople know their dislike of the Patriot Acts and it's associated legislation. Our second project was to show the film Zeitgeist on campus, and distribute literature about expanding globalization and the political and economic war being waged on all citizens of the free world. Granted, living and going to school in a conservative, priveleged, Caucasian town did little to lend itself to many visitors but it felt really good to be active and participating in my beliefs.

http://www.zeitgeistmovie.com/ (to see the film in it's entirety)

For my speech class, I have worked with a number of classmates to help them become better critical thinkers and improve their speaking abilities. I have spoken on the dangers and oppression of organized religion, on the benefits of legalizing prostitution, and on Monday will close the semester with an argument against gay marriage. In this case I am arguing in counter to my beliefs, but how else does one become a better speaker if he can't play devil's advocate once in while?

My English class has been wonderful, even if I am the only person who appreciates my instructor. It has been very informative and I have been exposed to many poets and writers that I was previously unfamiliar with. I am inspired to write again, and my gratitude goes out to Janel whateveryourlastnameisnow, Lin Fraser, and as always, my grandfather.

Surprisingly enough, I have the second best score in my algebra class. Big shock, really, as I haven't had any math instruction in about 21 years. That either speaks to my diligence, or to the lack of education of my classmates. I know, that is faulty logic, but it's kind of funny... Honestly, I do my homework, I show up to class, I take notes, I ask questions, and it seems that I am learning. Go figure! Why I didn't understand this before drives me insane. There, now I am insane.

Anyhoo, enough for today. I just wanted a reminder of some of the things I've done, and I hope any readers I have can take from this a couple of things. First, it's never too late to go for it. Second, don't be afraid to ask for help; if you want to be successful, find out what successful people do and do that. Lastly, hard work pays off. Do more than is expected of you. Go out of your way to learn more than is required.

Use your intellect to crush the weak and the ignorant. Flaunt your wit, revel in your grandeur, dance on the graves of the idiotic, and laugh with great zeal at the fall of your compeers.

I am only kidding about that last part.

On The Enlightenment of Responsibility and the Responsibility of Enlightenment

2008-04-25T00:12:00.000-07:00

Fighting with myself and my better nature, I am falling back into the habit of cynicism. I question why we do not live in a society of advancing knowledge, of technologic advancement for the sake of bettering humankind. Is it too late for man to capture the essence of growth, of spiritual attunement, of enlightenment?

I surround myself with students from different walks of life who mostly bring forth the refuse of a wasted upbringing. I refer to them as students as I believe we all are--that is, learning daily. But what are we learning; what are we teaching? It is rare that I meet someone that sees beyond the ordinary to view a world of possibility. At every turn I am confronted by man in his put-upon, materialistic semi-glory, obsequious to the trappings of escapism and ignorance.

What responsibility falls upon my shoulders, and the shoulders of the learned, the wise, the enlightened? Many philosophies would suggest that only by bettering myself can I affect the polarity of the world. Others would demand that humble service become my mantra. Still others ask that I disregard any gift of consciousness and join in the monotonous fray of a cacophonous society. What is the proper course for the man of reason and intelligence?
I do not know. Like few I question my responsibility to a global population, like many I am hesitant to become involved. The common thread is indifference; the shared state is apathy.

Am I responsible to self or am I obligated to assist my fellows? Even deeper, I wonder if any contribution even matters given the nature of time and obstacle.

Is man destined for collapse? Is there greater meaning for the existance of our kind? Does this species have the ability to lift itself from desperation and progress to an enlightened state or is it doomed to choke on its own fumes like decaying plants are apt to do?

It could be argued that everyone has the responsibility to his brethren of being an upright, honest, moral, helpful world citizen although that becomes difficult when so many seek to control and dominate his compeer. Even more difficult this task becomes when so many fall prey to these type of corruptors due to their own addiction to satiety and want of facility. This begs the question: Who am I to help these people who choose weakness over strength, passivity over activity, surrender over rebellion?

I am but a man. A learned man, yes, but still a man. I seek knowledge and abhor injustice. I muster my will to grow toward enlightenment yet fall prey to the hazards of imperfection. I reason with the authority of one who commands it. I argue only with those who undersatnd the nature of argument and value open forum with no malice. Yet I will occasionally fail, as I do today, in figuring out what role I have to play in the drama of responsibility. Today I am responsible for myself and I wonder if today is all I can ever be responsible for.

Is there such a man as the responsible cynic? That is for better men than I to argue. Today, I will be responsible to my sense of value and purpose. That is enough in this moment.

What was I thinking?

2008-04-25T00:11:00.000-07:00

I remember being fascinated by technology when I was younger and always had to have the latest new toy. The Sharper Image catalog was a bible for me. I was programming Apple IIe’s in 6th grade, writing logarithms for DOS in 8th. Somehow, as I grew older, that changed and I began to despise technology. Don’t get me wrong here, I’m no Neo-Luddite, but I grew wary of keeping up with the times.

I bought a DVD player recorder a couple years ago to transfer my old VHS into digital. No big deal there, just a more contemporary VCR. I keep my computer pretty well updated with faster chips and bigger drives and boards, but that is just an extension of my prior computer experience. What stopped me was the cell phone/mp3 player technology.

I write this because I came into posession of an iPod last week--a 2gb, second edition Nano in pristine condition. I swore I would never own one after seeing how many spoiled little brats with a permanent Borg-like attachments growing from their ears. I can’t believe I have been missing out all this time.

The last three days have been all about Limewire and ripping my CD’s. More specifically, taking the one or two or three good songs from my discs and trashing the rest. I have thrown away over 400 CD’s this week, and my iPod still has 600mb of memory left. Jesus. I have not taken that damn earpiece out except to shower and sleep.

My point of blogging is twofold: one, to admit I was wrong, and two, in requesting songs from the past and present to help fill up my empty space. I have to be honest here, most modern music is absolute shit. How many three chord wonderbands do I have to sift through before finding a song I like?

Feel free to drop me a line if there is something that you can’t get out of your head. I already have Duran Duran’s first four albums downloaded (after that, they went too bubblegum for my taste), as well as some high school favorites. I promise to take all suggestions seriously.
A few of my new favorites, which maybe aren’t so new:

"Flagpole Sitta" by Harvey Danger
"Don’t Steal My Sunshine" by Len
"Wish" by Alien Ant Farm
"Take Me Out" from Franz Ferdinand
Anything by What Made Milwaukee Famous

and a whole lot of Smashing Pumpkins, Janes Addiction, Erasure, DM, and the Smiths.

Thanks for your help!

Purity

2008-04-24T23:50:00.000-07:00

2008-04-24T23:48:00.000-07:00

Her Name

From the edge of a glimmering dream I have seen
Two eyes piercing darkness--one million degrees.
Through billowing smoke, blackened, hollowed out trees,
Though blinded, I see those eyes stigmatize me.

Oh! You must know this feeling of fearful desire,
When even torchbearers, so scared, drop their fire.
Whence other men stand from afar to admire
This visage my heart, and my soul, now require.

'Tis love, now I know, which has set me alight;
Though fear which persists is the core of my plight.
I want nothing more than to do what is right,
Still my fears block the sun, leaving but shroud of night.

So I lay counting seconds and minutes each day.
A time she might suddenly say,"Excuse me...", or
"Thank you." or something cliche.
Enough to prevent my emotional decay.

Now I must deal with my squalid remiss.
See clearly, so separate eyes from my fists.
Push forward in hope of some predestined bliss
In the arms of this lover, one sweet, perfect kiss.

08/20/06
Rocklin, CA

On the nature of work

2008-04-24T23:47:00.000-07:00

I really dislike work, not so much what I do or whom I do it for, but the idea that I need to work. I know I'm not the first person to ever feel this way, but I'm not everyone else. The obvious questions come to mind: What would I do all day? How would I afford to live? Could everyone else be afforded the same luxury if the world didn't require, or expect, employment? What if goods and services weren't directly related to a persons production? Is the value of a man in an industrial society graded only by his ability to produce, and then by his level of production?

All these questions aside, I enjoy the act of working. I feel satisfied at the end of a shift when I have performed capably. Likewise, I feel a mild shame at not having acheived my best for that particular day. Regardless, I am plagued by the eternal question: Do I work so I can afford to live or do I define myself in relation to others by my occupation?

I know that I compare my work to others, often questioning the required education, stamina, organization skills, et cetera, required to perform their jobs. I also wonder what circumstances or life choices drew them into their profession. When meeting those whose fill highly technical or traditionally prestigious positions I wonder if I would have the necessary motivation, capability or dilligence to pursue such a career. In rare situations I question whether I could succeed, not just in a dedicated field, but in any other which requires utmost focus, growth and learning. Aha, the curse of the intellectual--self-doubt.

Conversely, those jobs which do not require any real technical skill or progressive education baffle me. Would I have the long term stamina to maintain a career of repetitive boredom. Many people whom I respect do this, yet I do not believe I could. Again, self-doubt.
Circumstances make for interesting decision making. I now know that given a certain set of situations, events and needs, I would find the mindset necessary to succeed in an unfulfilling job. In actuality, I now work in a field I despise, yet continue to prosper in due to current limitations on my ability to live free. Amazing what the mind can bring the body to do when one has the willingness to visualize acheivement, accepting a mediocre today as a stepping stone toward a greater tomorrow.

I also believe that I am capable of anything I set my mind toward--so long as the goal remains one which does not raise my success at another's defeat. My material security cannot devalue my emotional security else I have neither. Ultimately, I believe I do have the necessary dilligence, stamina and teachableness to succeed in nearly any field, excepting those which require specific and advancing knowledge in areas I was not given the gift of understanding (i.e. physics, non-linear mathematics, etc.). I must believe this for at the core of all failure is the lack of faith--faith in self, faith in higher power. The absence of faith is fear, doubt is merely self-will run riot.

What is the answer to the question of work? Can I simplify the role of employment as it relates to an individual's responsibility to the society he is inexoriably linked to? Probably. I choose, though, to remember that work is a means to an end and is allowed to be personally defineable. I am not what I do, I am one who does what I do. I do what is needed to acheive what I want. I do my best as a matter of priciple, even if I do not enjoy doing it. I will do what is necessary while I strengthen myself to do what I want. I will succeed at whatever I do. The only thing that can keep me from getting what I want is me.

For today...

2008-04-24T23:43:00.000-07:00

"Love sees through a telescope, not a microscope."

Jo Petty
1962

For some reason, I really like this syllogism. It speaks volumes without preaching and reminds me not to take other people so seriously. I remember that I am only capable of changing myself. I remember hearing once: pray for others, do for yourself. That strikes me in much the same way. Oh how I would like the world to do my bidding, for people to be the way I wished, but how boring would that be? Seven billion of me running around, nothing would ever get done, and I would never fall in love. Hah!

It seems for me, the answer is take people as they are, and not expect them to change. If they are people I like, I will like them until I don't. If I fall in love, I will love them until I don't. Blame is not in my vocabulary any longer. Blame has been replaced with acceptance.

I will not allow someone I do not love, or even someone I do not like, to have sway over my feelings, my existence or my well-being. I cannot if I wish to be a man of integrity and principle.
This does not mean I seek to stop learning. Often, I learn that what I don't like about a person is the same thing I don't like about myself. The telescope becomes the microscope; the microscope becomes a projector. I find what it is I don't like about a person and ask myself if I don't share that same quality. Only then can I repair it and then can I better see why I dislike someone. My willingness to change can be the catalyst for change in another.

This is how I better myself, this is how I learn to live in a world of people I dislike. I stop disliking myself.

My Grand-dad

2008-04-24T22:54:00.000-07:00

My Granddad

I was recently asked in a letter by my 82 years young grandfather to tell him who I was so he could get to know his grandson before he dies. He isn't dying, but has already planned his death--he is a writer and has a flair for the dramatic; he is my mentor as I struggle through life and my own novel, I rely on his input, advice and wisdom.

So, Who am I? The question of the ages, right? I have no easy answer, but plenty of questions. Am I simply a collection of experiences and reactions, a development of the ego, id and superego? Am I more easily described by physical and emotional traits? What patterns have been established through my interactions with environments and other humans? Can I be described by any particular combination of these actions and results? Life in and of itself is at it's simplest a history of action and inaction, the state of now versus what was. So Who am I, grandpa?

I know I have been alive for 35 years, and have lived my waking moments with little clarity or understanding. I recognize now my need to love and be loved, my ability to appreciate God and accept the world as he made it, the desire to seek bonds with like-minded people and respect their journeys through this world. Though I have known defeat in my past, both at the hands of myself and others, I am grateful for my life today and strive to improve my existence by utilizing the strength of others. I am able to learn and to teach, by word and example. I attempt to touch the great world trying not to leave fingerprints behind to be cleaned by the next explorer.

I am a man, grandfather, who dreams of his own life. My life! I seek to be filled with the joy of new discovery, with a sense of accomplishment at both success and failure. I am not now, nor hope to ever be satisfied, complacent. Jesus says, "Know Thyself" yet I have little self-knowledge. I know the man I used to be--fearful, intolerant, unkind, selfish, self-seeking, judging, condemning, hateful. I am no longer that man, yet I am still the same man. Today I know to temper rage with love, to battle judgement with tolerance, to sacrifice self for the advancement of man, to place myself at God's mercy and live life on his terms. Not surprisingly, when I do these things, I am gifted in return. I am shown a vision of my future, filled with happiness, love, joy and serenity. I see it in the faces of those who understand the importance of fulfillment, who have seen life through similar lenses and willed change.

So Who am I? I don't know! I know what I want, I know the effort necessary to get there. I am a man of integrity, morality. I want personal success but not at the expense of another. I want to be happy, joyous and free. I want someone to share it with. I want to die remembering the things I have done, not regretting the things I haven't done. I am filled with want and with perseverence, dedication and dilligence I will have. I believe the journey is the goal. If someday I can look back and say I have enjoyed the trip, it will have been worthwhile. Until then, I pave the road with good intention and am rewarded for the effort.