I had the occasion recently to attend a high school graduation. I was there to see a group of young people I had had the pleasure of working with these past five years age instantly before my eyes. It is to these fine people and grads around the world that this is addressed.
My own matriculation occurred some 21 years ago. It was a proud seminal moment in my life, a crowning achievement, and the culmination of 13 years of schooling. The thing is, I don't remember much of it. The sands of time have shifted over the years, obscuring the details, dulling the memories. To be honest, I'm not even sure that the remembrances I do have weren't aided by the photographs scanned after the fact. The memories of the momentousness of my big night have faded into a recollection among others of things past.
The reason I mention all of this - aside from being a massive prick - is to actually give you some hope, believe it or not. Right now, and over the past few weeks, amid the elation and relief, have likely been some tears and even a few fears (that would make an awesome band name). While it's true that a huge and defining part of your lives is coming to an end, the rest of it is just starting.
Oh. So that part's also causing you to shit the proverbial bed?
Well, what if I told you that a part of the rest of your life is just starting? Up to this point in your life, you've likely been led to believe that your life is divided into three parts --> before high school, during high school, and after high school. Right now the after high school part is looking pretty big huh? Well it is. It's freaking huge. There's just so much to do. The truth is, however, that the best part of living life is figuring out how you want to live it. The trick is, you can't figure out what you want to do with it unless you go out and do.
Go. Do. Some of my newly minted friends may find that familiar.
I've told every class and every student I've ever taught and every actor I've ever directed that I'd rather see them fail spectacularly than succeed mediocrely. What I mean is that in life, as in scene-work, you need to launch yourself at your goal with 100% of your efforts. Without complete commitment, you will never succeed completely.
Success through failure.
Failure in life is unavoidable. Lack of commitment is entirely avoidable. If you want to be an actor, failure is 90% of your career, but it is also present in every other profession and in life. If you don't fail, you will never understand what it takes to succeed.
Be passionate.
Don't do anything halfway. Give everything your all. I don't care what you want to achieve in life, but allowing your passions to guide you is a great way to lead a happy life. The old adage reads: "Do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life." But it runs deeper than that. Show yourself to be passionate in every aspect of your life and you'll never have to wonder "what if?"
Lastly, realize that in all of this you only have one life. Don't let anyone take that away from you by making if less than it deserves to be. Don't allow others to dictate the terms of your life. Don't waste the finite preciousness of your existence. Be good to others. Be honorable. Be moral. You are the sum of your experiences. The better the experiences, the better the sum. Some days those experiences are unmatched - yes, para-sailing with the Dalai Lama in the AM and dinner and strip Yahtzee with Carrie Underwood in the PM was pretty amazing, but so too was that solitary latte when you fell in love with Hemingway, or that time you laughed for an hour over some inane joke with a friend.
You're too young to get this yet, but life hurtles past you at break-neck speed. Don't waste any of it needlessly beating yourself up or not following your dreams. Jump in with both feet and squeeze every last drop of awesome out of it. Don't let anything get you down longer than you have to. Love yourself. Be in love. Be proud of yourself. Your families are proud of you. I'm proud of you.
Do great things.
Showing posts with label self. Show all posts
Showing posts with label self. Show all posts
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Looking Back At Myself
I like my lines. Those etchings in my visage. Those ephemeral furrows of a life lived. Of laughs had. Of laughs made. I'm proud of those little reminders of years ticked off. Of experiences had. Of battles won. The older I am, the more I've survived. Battle scars of wind and time.
I don't feel old. Don't think old. I feel as young as I ever did. Just grumpier. Just more placid. More satisfied. More unsatisfied with waiting for life to happen. Go and live it. The secrets of life seem less secretive now. What is important so much more tangible. Friends get divorced now. Friends die now.
Each new stage of life comes more quickly now. Races up to you and is gone again. Before you saw it. Before you knew it. How did we get here? How long ago? Familiar refrains now. Black and white long gone. Absolutes vaporized into reality. Seeing the depth beneath the water. Like a graph turned 3-D.
Seeing the world more simply. Beyond the politicking. Beyond the superficiality of man made desire. The rational reality of fact. Simplicity at a higher level. A Universe immune to us. A world that outlives us. Every one of us. Being born to die. The understanding of which lets us live more fully.
Gaze into that glass. Revel in the evidence of time. Immemorial. In memoriam. Age is a gift denied so many. Too many. Live your life vicariously through yourself. Be a living monument to the passed. To the past. But most of all -- relax.
I don't feel old. Don't think old. I feel as young as I ever did. Just grumpier. Just more placid. More satisfied. More unsatisfied with waiting for life to happen. Go and live it. The secrets of life seem less secretive now. What is important so much more tangible. Friends get divorced now. Friends die now.
Each new stage of life comes more quickly now. Races up to you and is gone again. Before you saw it. Before you knew it. How did we get here? How long ago? Familiar refrains now. Black and white long gone. Absolutes vaporized into reality. Seeing the depth beneath the water. Like a graph turned 3-D.
Seeing the world more simply. Beyond the politicking. Beyond the superficiality of man made desire. The rational reality of fact. Simplicity at a higher level. A Universe immune to us. A world that outlives us. Every one of us. Being born to die. The understanding of which lets us live more fully.
Gaze into that glass. Revel in the evidence of time. Immemorial. In memoriam. Age is a gift denied so many. Too many. Live your life vicariously through yourself. Be a living monument to the passed. To the past. But most of all -- relax.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
This Temporary Life
Your life, and mine, and all lives in fact are, by their nature, anomalous. When you think about the sheer amount of circumstances needed to fall into place for you to exist . . . well let's just say that's it's a lot more likely that a particular human being won't exist than will.
Not a single one of your ancestors failed to breed. Each one of them survived infancy and childhood. Every one one of them lived to adulthood. Don't get me started on the math required to demonstrate that you exist solely because each one of your ancestors mated with your specific other ancestor (out of a smorgasbord of other potential mates) at that exact moment back to the beginning of time.
You are the product of countless generations. You are at the sword's point of evolution. You are an anomaly. We all are.
So when you consider the actual living miracle it is that you're here, don't forget that every other one of your planet-mates is in the same boat. From your family members, to your neighbors sure, but also to those starving children in some far away land that you've seen pictures of but would rather click past than be troubled by. It's not just you. None of us likes to be sad, and thoughts like that make us sad.
We occupy our little place on Earth for a time so quick, it's practically over the moment we realize it is. When you're a kid, a hundred years is a thousand lifetimes away, when you get a bit older you realize it's just one. At a certain point, your vitality is behind you. Your youth and energy are trapped in photographs yellowing in an album somewhere.
If you're of the fortunate ones, you get to see your skin sag and hair whiten, you're blessed with memories that may need a jump-start every once in a while but are long and rich. My Dad has always said "Age is a gift denied to so many". Ain't that the truth. As much as we shake our heads and feel sympathy for our elderly brethren, they are the fortunate ones.
This life is temporary no matter how long we shuffle this mortal coil. Just being here is a miracle left unfulfilled by literally trillions of other potential people - who knows how many geniuses we're never to hear of. Every decision you make in your life should honor that evolutionary miracle that puts you behind a computer reading this. Every choice you make for your own life should also take into consideration the fact that every other being on this Earth is as much of a miracle as you and should be treated as such.
Your whole life is spent in transit - from the moment you slip into the world to the moment you slip out. It's easy in this make-believe world of ours to put so much importance on details that we forget the big picture. We spend so much time living our lives that we forget to be alive.
In this temporary life of yours remember to live. Stopping to smell the roses was a cliche to me until I moved into a house with rose bushes.
Not a single one of your ancestors failed to breed. Each one of them survived infancy and childhood. Every one one of them lived to adulthood. Don't get me started on the math required to demonstrate that you exist solely because each one of your ancestors mated with your specific other ancestor (out of a smorgasbord of other potential mates) at that exact moment back to the beginning of time.
You are the product of countless generations. You are at the sword's point of evolution. You are an anomaly. We all are.
So when you consider the actual living miracle it is that you're here, don't forget that every other one of your planet-mates is in the same boat. From your family members, to your neighbors sure, but also to those starving children in some far away land that you've seen pictures of but would rather click past than be troubled by. It's not just you. None of us likes to be sad, and thoughts like that make us sad.
We occupy our little place on Earth for a time so quick, it's practically over the moment we realize it is. When you're a kid, a hundred years is a thousand lifetimes away, when you get a bit older you realize it's just one. At a certain point, your vitality is behind you. Your youth and energy are trapped in photographs yellowing in an album somewhere.
If you're of the fortunate ones, you get to see your skin sag and hair whiten, you're blessed with memories that may need a jump-start every once in a while but are long and rich. My Dad has always said "Age is a gift denied to so many". Ain't that the truth. As much as we shake our heads and feel sympathy for our elderly brethren, they are the fortunate ones.
This life is temporary no matter how long we shuffle this mortal coil. Just being here is a miracle left unfulfilled by literally trillions of other potential people - who knows how many geniuses we're never to hear of. Every decision you make in your life should honor that evolutionary miracle that puts you behind a computer reading this. Every choice you make for your own life should also take into consideration the fact that every other being on this Earth is as much of a miracle as you and should be treated as such.
Your whole life is spent in transit - from the moment you slip into the world to the moment you slip out. It's easy in this make-believe world of ours to put so much importance on details that we forget the big picture. We spend so much time living our lives that we forget to be alive.
In this temporary life of yours remember to live. Stopping to smell the roses was a cliche to me until I moved into a house with rose bushes.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Stand Alone On A Stage
Stand alone on a stage and be. Be that person deep inside that yearns to break free, to exist, to breathe. That person that yearns to surface. To lurch from the yoke of the water's grasp and gulp down lungfuls of acrid air - heavy in the incense of a ritual to be observed yet not obeyed.
Stand in the light and be seen. Seen for the most vulnerable face of you, made raw in the spot's light. The honey glow of truth and redemption and fear. Numbing fear of failure to be ignored and trampled on, trounced, made ready for the purchase of a new grasp. A new grip. A handhold on the granite face of that thing you call life.
Stand with nothing. Nothing but your honesty. Your honesty that in that moment alone you are true and real and strong and nimble. Feel that mutinous heart beat from deep within that cavernous chest and answer back with a quiet calm and resolve born of redirected fear.
Stand and see. Not the audience or the curtains or the stage, but your own hands and feet. See what you inhabit and own. What you control. What husk you are and will leave. But for now, here you are. In this moment. On this stage. See with the eyes of ten thousand men and women what space you occupy and in whose body you live. See the mirror in your own mind and adore that shell of yours for the vessel it is to guide you through this pain and love and peace.
Stand in that pool and feel. Feel that charge, that electricity, that inspiration, that perversion of a talent that you have at your disposal and stand in awe of what you will spend a lifetime seeking and chasing and yearning and loving and being in deep addiction to. That resonance that feels so good and seems so hardly out of reach. Be lifted to your toes by your own inspiration. It bubbles to the surface. You part your lips. You open your mouth. And you . . .
Stand alone on a stage.
Stand in the light and be seen. Seen for the most vulnerable face of you, made raw in the spot's light. The honey glow of truth and redemption and fear. Numbing fear of failure to be ignored and trampled on, trounced, made ready for the purchase of a new grasp. A new grip. A handhold on the granite face of that thing you call life.
Stand with nothing. Nothing but your honesty. Your honesty that in that moment alone you are true and real and strong and nimble. Feel that mutinous heart beat from deep within that cavernous chest and answer back with a quiet calm and resolve born of redirected fear.
Stand and see. Not the audience or the curtains or the stage, but your own hands and feet. See what you inhabit and own. What you control. What husk you are and will leave. But for now, here you are. In this moment. On this stage. See with the eyes of ten thousand men and women what space you occupy and in whose body you live. See the mirror in your own mind and adore that shell of yours for the vessel it is to guide you through this pain and love and peace.
Stand in that pool and feel. Feel that charge, that electricity, that inspiration, that perversion of a talent that you have at your disposal and stand in awe of what you will spend a lifetime seeking and chasing and yearning and loving and being in deep addiction to. That resonance that feels so good and seems so hardly out of reach. Be lifted to your toes by your own inspiration. It bubbles to the surface. You part your lips. You open your mouth. And you . . .
Stand alone on a stage.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
How To Raise Children - Pt.1
My wife and I have three children. They are perfect in every way and never do anything wrong except when they just won't shush when Daddy's watching his racing.
If and when any of you out there become pregnant, or your wives become pregnant, or you're adopting, kidnapping, or you're picking up a little one at one of Angelina Jolie's garage sales, people won't be able to resist offering you advice on your new progeny.
Most of this advice will be terrible, misguided, and in at least three States - illegal.
I will now do you a huge favor and cut through all the bullshit by boiling it down to one simple rule.
Your job as a parent is to not raise an asshole.
There. Simple. To the point. Don't you wish more people had followed that advice when you were a kid? Then there'd be fewer assholes to deal with. Everything you do with your kids should be informed by that simple litmus test.
"If I let my kids whine and I give into their demands, will this make them grow into an asshole?"
Yes. Don't let them whine excessively and make them eat their damn vegetables.
"If I don't get after them for hitting other kids will that make them grow into an asshole?"
Yes. If you don't make them stop hitting my kids, I will.
"If I don't love them enough or give them affection, emotionally alienating them, will that make them an asshole?"
Remember that douchebag/baguette you used to date that cheated on you? Yeah. 'Nuff said.
There you have it, the one simple rule to raising kids - pretty intuitive huh?
Joking aside, raising kids is more simple than it can sometimes look. Love the hell out of your kids, understand that they're the most important things in your life now, and bring them up to be the best versions of yourself and throw in a pinch of confidence to help them be the things that you wish you'd had the guts to be.
And don't let them be assholes.
If and when any of you out there become pregnant, or your wives become pregnant, or you're adopting, kidnapping, or you're picking up a little one at one of Angelina Jolie's garage sales, people won't be able to resist offering you advice on your new progeny.
Most of this advice will be terrible, misguided, and in at least three States - illegal.
I will now do you a huge favor and cut through all the bullshit by boiling it down to one simple rule.
Your job as a parent is to not raise an asshole.
There. Simple. To the point. Don't you wish more people had followed that advice when you were a kid? Then there'd be fewer assholes to deal with. Everything you do with your kids should be informed by that simple litmus test.
"If I let my kids whine and I give into their demands, will this make them grow into an asshole?"
Yes. Don't let them whine excessively and make them eat their damn vegetables.
"If I don't get after them for hitting other kids will that make them grow into an asshole?"
Yes. If you don't make them stop hitting my kids, I will.
"If I don't love them enough or give them affection, emotionally alienating them, will that make them an asshole?"
Remember that douchebag/baguette you used to date that cheated on you? Yeah. 'Nuff said.
There you have it, the one simple rule to raising kids - pretty intuitive huh?
Joking aside, raising kids is more simple than it can sometimes look. Love the hell out of your kids, understand that they're the most important things in your life now, and bring them up to be the best versions of yourself and throw in a pinch of confidence to help them be the things that you wish you'd had the guts to be.
And don't let them be assholes.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Gaining A Year
It was my birthday this past Sunday, and I have obviously since gained another year. As per usual, this annual festivus is cause for some introspection, some reflection, and some cake. Having consumed the cake, humor me as I dispense with some conclusion born of said introspection and reflection.
Approaching the big day, a very good friend did as all good friends should do and gave me a hard time in regards to my impending aging (apparently it all happens at once). He asked when I would start lying about my age? I thought for the briefest of seconds (I find that's how I do my best work) and remarked that I never lie about my age, nor would I ever. You see, when I was 15, I was diagnosed with a very serious medical condition called autoimmune hepatitis. Which is, as anyone with a medical degree could easily discern from the title alone, a disease in which my immune system attacks my own body (autoimmunity), in this case my liver (hepat) and causes it to inflame (itis). After being ill for four and a half months, and receiving a diagnosis after a fair amount of jaundice and blood-letting at the very chilly hands of various phlebotomists, I was put on medication that suppressed my immune system and saved my life - medication that I am still on to this day. Rest assured, my intention isn't to get all droopy here, or depressive, or melodramatic, or even a hybrid combination of the three . . . droopresslodramatic. It's too point out a simple and long held belief of mine: age is a privilege denied to so many.
I will never lie about my age for the simple fact that if it weren't for my medication and the advances of science, I wouldn't be here right now. I'm proud of how old I am. I'm proud of the life I've lived. I'm proud of how much living I've been blessed to be able to cram into these 37 years. Furthermore, I resolve to pack as much living (or more) into my next 37. After all, life is for the living isn't it? It's this saying I think of when I read the more . . . shall we say dramatic . . . statuses on Facebook (or is that stati?). It's a common theme for me, I realize, but when it comes down to it I think people should focus on the good fortune that surrounds them when they tearfully lament the burning of toast, or the dropping of glass, or the whatever of whatever that makes them scrawl FML. Honestly? To say f--- one's life over something so trivial? I get it - it's hyperbole, but still - I think perspective is in short supply these days.
People will often ask online how I stay upbeat. Well, I'll tell you - it's this. It's everything I just wrote. I stay upbeat because I remember how lucky I am. Not just with family or career, in which I am incredible fortunate to be sure, but because I am here. Because I am here to spend time with my family, because I am here to have a career. My favorite thing to say when anyone seems frazzled, angry, overwhelmed, over-dramatic, or overtaxed is: "You are not in the Darfur, and you are not currently on fire. Almost everything else we can deal with". I realize it's an oversimplification, but the point is there. I wrote in an earlier post that most of what we get so wrapped up in is make believe anyway, so try not to lose yourself in it. This isn't to say I'm not guilty of getting wrapped up in the pseudo-importance of a moment either, but I try to regain focus by thinking about how lucky I really am. There are people in this world who are literally eating dirt. My life is just fine. Help the people with the dirt.
As I've also written on here before, because of my medical condition, I have come to value and prize life over everything. Not just the life itself mind you, but also the quality of that life. No matter what you believe spiritually, we can all agree on this - you get one life. One tangible, seeable, proveable life (not all of those words are real). On that count we are all of us alike. Having said that to take someone's life, or quality of life over a belief is about the the worst thing one can do. Right now there are a lot of young men and women taking their own lives over other people's beliefs and the bullying that comes along with it. Telling someone that they aren't natural or right because they don't live up to your idea of what is "right" or other is more than offensive, it's tantamount to bigotry. Unfortunately it is also becoming State sanctioned bigotry when the lawmakers hide behind the veil of Propositions and ballots. A government's job is to administer the workings of the country and serve and protect its citizens - apparently sometimes from other citizens. I met a young man in Tampa this year who approached me for an autograph. He wore a shirt that read, "Not Gay, But Supportive". He couldn't have been more that 12. I marveled at this young man and then wrote in his program, "The World needs more kids like you" before signing it. Indeed we do.
Well, that's it. Another terribly earnest blog post. It started with birthday cake and sunshine and became political. I am beginning to think that I can't actually write anything mirthful! In the end it boils down to this: live your life to the fullest and let others do the same - heck, try to help others live theirs if you get the chance! I certainly appreciated all of the birthday wishes from all my friends - Facebook and IRL! So next time you get down about gaining another year on Father Time, remember what I wrote here and look at how lucky you really are.
Approaching the big day, a very good friend did as all good friends should do and gave me a hard time in regards to my impending aging (apparently it all happens at once). He asked when I would start lying about my age? I thought for the briefest of seconds (I find that's how I do my best work) and remarked that I never lie about my age, nor would I ever. You see, when I was 15, I was diagnosed with a very serious medical condition called autoimmune hepatitis. Which is, as anyone with a medical degree could easily discern from the title alone, a disease in which my immune system attacks my own body (autoimmunity), in this case my liver (hepat) and causes it to inflame (itis). After being ill for four and a half months, and receiving a diagnosis after a fair amount of jaundice and blood-letting at the very chilly hands of various phlebotomists, I was put on medication that suppressed my immune system and saved my life - medication that I am still on to this day. Rest assured, my intention isn't to get all droopy here, or depressive, or melodramatic, or even a hybrid combination of the three . . . droopresslodramatic. It's too point out a simple and long held belief of mine: age is a privilege denied to so many.
I will never lie about my age for the simple fact that if it weren't for my medication and the advances of science, I wouldn't be here right now. I'm proud of how old I am. I'm proud of the life I've lived. I'm proud of how much living I've been blessed to be able to cram into these 37 years. Furthermore, I resolve to pack as much living (or more) into my next 37. After all, life is for the living isn't it? It's this saying I think of when I read the more . . . shall we say dramatic . . . statuses on Facebook (or is that stati?). It's a common theme for me, I realize, but when it comes down to it I think people should focus on the good fortune that surrounds them when they tearfully lament the burning of toast, or the dropping of glass, or the whatever of whatever that makes them scrawl FML. Honestly? To say f--- one's life over something so trivial? I get it - it's hyperbole, but still - I think perspective is in short supply these days.
People will often ask online how I stay upbeat. Well, I'll tell you - it's this. It's everything I just wrote. I stay upbeat because I remember how lucky I am. Not just with family or career, in which I am incredible fortunate to be sure, but because I am here. Because I am here to spend time with my family, because I am here to have a career. My favorite thing to say when anyone seems frazzled, angry, overwhelmed, over-dramatic, or overtaxed is: "You are not in the Darfur, and you are not currently on fire. Almost everything else we can deal with". I realize it's an oversimplification, but the point is there. I wrote in an earlier post that most of what we get so wrapped up in is make believe anyway, so try not to lose yourself in it. This isn't to say I'm not guilty of getting wrapped up in the pseudo-importance of a moment either, but I try to regain focus by thinking about how lucky I really am. There are people in this world who are literally eating dirt. My life is just fine. Help the people with the dirt.
As I've also written on here before, because of my medical condition, I have come to value and prize life over everything. Not just the life itself mind you, but also the quality of that life. No matter what you believe spiritually, we can all agree on this - you get one life. One tangible, seeable, proveable life (not all of those words are real). On that count we are all of us alike. Having said that to take someone's life, or quality of life over a belief is about the the worst thing one can do. Right now there are a lot of young men and women taking their own lives over other people's beliefs and the bullying that comes along with it. Telling someone that they aren't natural or right because they don't live up to your idea of what is "right" or other is more than offensive, it's tantamount to bigotry. Unfortunately it is also becoming State sanctioned bigotry when the lawmakers hide behind the veil of Propositions and ballots. A government's job is to administer the workings of the country and serve and protect its citizens - apparently sometimes from other citizens. I met a young man in Tampa this year who approached me for an autograph. He wore a shirt that read, "Not Gay, But Supportive". He couldn't have been more that 12. I marveled at this young man and then wrote in his program, "The World needs more kids like you" before signing it. Indeed we do.
Well, that's it. Another terribly earnest blog post. It started with birthday cake and sunshine and became political. I am beginning to think that I can't actually write anything mirthful! In the end it boils down to this: live your life to the fullest and let others do the same - heck, try to help others live theirs if you get the chance! I certainly appreciated all of the birthday wishes from all my friends - Facebook and IRL! So next time you get down about gaining another year on Father Time, remember what I wrote here and look at how lucky you really are.
Friday, September 24, 2010
The Show on richardiancox.com and the Changes To Come . . . Maybe.
Honest to goodness! I keep promising to keep up with this blog and well . . . I don't. Don't get me wrong, I love this blog. It's my voice to the outside. In many ways, it's my real voice. It's that guy beyond the humor and the (alleged) witty (or is that witless) status updates on Facebook and Twitter. It's the guy who's up for a fight to defend what he thinks is important and criticize what he thinks isn't.
On Facebook it's a funny old thing - you want the people who follow, or rather friend, you to like you. Perhaps more accurately you want them to like the product that is you. Let's be honest - I don't really have 1225 friends - I have 1225 "friends". I like them, hopefully they like me, but I don't know them, and they don't know me. I have long been contemplating setting up a "Like" page and asking people to gravitate in that direction so that I can somewhat reclaim my Facebook page as my personal space, but I worry that such a request will smack of ego. The truth is that there isn't much that's personal about my current page. The people I talk to on a daily or weekly or monthly basis - you know, the friends I actually know - don't post on my wall or comment because they'll wind up with 50 emails (to be fair 49 of them are mine)! Again, don't take this the wrong way - I love that people out there care enough about me without having met me to want to take a personal interest in my life, but it is a surreal thing to have folks posting on my wall and then chatting amongst themselves as though it's a public page. Of course, I did bring this on myself - I did open myself up, and many people frankly don't know that this is a personal page. The tricky bit is that I do want to share personal elements on my page with friends and family, but I don't want to open up any more to folks I don't really know - you know? :)
This blog lets me say what I really think about the world without a flame war ensuing, because somehow commenting on this seems to take more time and the format somehow asks for an opinion rather than a snippy remark quickly jotted down. A blog is something to seek out and not just an item in a never ending news-feed to "Like" or ignore. As a result, I have been yearning to use my voice more (my inside voice rather than my literal one). I do post the occasional link to things I believe in or can't believe. I suppose I do this because I think people should see what's outside their window and also because I like healthy debate. Of course, there isn't really much that's healthy about debate on Facebook is there? I honestly couldn't tell you why. Perhaps because it seems so quick. As we scroll down the news-feed, it all flies by and maybe we forget the verbal middle finger we just extended as quickly as we forget it in the car from which we flip birds of varying degrees.
I'm a feisty, scrappy little guy, and I like to tell it how I think it is. Frankly I think it's been driving me crazy to suppress my opinions for the sake of being palatable to all. I certainly don't think I am the alpha and the omega of opinions, and am fully aware that mine is no more valid than those on either side of me (unless they're wrong). Yet sometimes I need to stand on that soapbox and point out what I think is hypocrisy, yadda yadda yadda . . .
So all this drivel brings me to The Show on richardiancox.com - that brilliant sophomoric podcast brought to you semi-weekly, monthly, or is that annually by the brain trust that is myself and Sharon Alexander. I feel that The Show should have a little more spice in the veins of Jon Stewart, Bill Maher, and Kermit the Frog. I don't always want to play nice. I mean I am nice, but I want to stir things up a bit. Besides, good comedy so rarely comes from "nice" don't you think? I don't want to alienate anyone, and I hope that everyone comes along for the ride, even if just to risk opening your eyes to another world without actually going over.
I don't know when or if these changes will take place, just taking that first step of putting it out there. I think that generally the loudest among us get the most attention. I don't want to be loud, but sometimes I want to push back at those who are getting too loud. There seems to be more and more hate out there these days. It's on our news channels, on our social networks, it's out of the mouths of the ignorant. I would like to do more to point out that ugliness and invite people to hold a mirror to it. Maybe The Show can be my little way to disarm this nastiness by making fun of it. If you feel like it, have a listen and laugh along.
On Facebook it's a funny old thing - you want the people who follow, or rather friend, you to like you. Perhaps more accurately you want them to like the product that is you. Let's be honest - I don't really have 1225 friends - I have 1225 "friends". I like them, hopefully they like me, but I don't know them, and they don't know me. I have long been contemplating setting up a "Like" page and asking people to gravitate in that direction so that I can somewhat reclaim my Facebook page as my personal space, but I worry that such a request will smack of ego. The truth is that there isn't much that's personal about my current page. The people I talk to on a daily or weekly or monthly basis - you know, the friends I actually know - don't post on my wall or comment because they'll wind up with 50 emails (to be fair 49 of them are mine)! Again, don't take this the wrong way - I love that people out there care enough about me without having met me to want to take a personal interest in my life, but it is a surreal thing to have folks posting on my wall and then chatting amongst themselves as though it's a public page. Of course, I did bring this on myself - I did open myself up, and many people frankly don't know that this is a personal page. The tricky bit is that I do want to share personal elements on my page with friends and family, but I don't want to open up any more to folks I don't really know - you know? :)
This blog lets me say what I really think about the world without a flame war ensuing, because somehow commenting on this seems to take more time and the format somehow asks for an opinion rather than a snippy remark quickly jotted down. A blog is something to seek out and not just an item in a never ending news-feed to "Like" or ignore. As a result, I have been yearning to use my voice more (my inside voice rather than my literal one). I do post the occasional link to things I believe in or can't believe. I suppose I do this because I think people should see what's outside their window and also because I like healthy debate. Of course, there isn't really much that's healthy about debate on Facebook is there? I honestly couldn't tell you why. Perhaps because it seems so quick. As we scroll down the news-feed, it all flies by and maybe we forget the verbal middle finger we just extended as quickly as we forget it in the car from which we flip birds of varying degrees.
I'm a feisty, scrappy little guy, and I like to tell it how I think it is. Frankly I think it's been driving me crazy to suppress my opinions for the sake of being palatable to all. I certainly don't think I am the alpha and the omega of opinions, and am fully aware that mine is no more valid than those on either side of me (unless they're wrong). Yet sometimes I need to stand on that soapbox and point out what I think is hypocrisy, yadda yadda yadda . . .
So all this drivel brings me to The Show on richardiancox.com - that brilliant sophomoric podcast brought to you semi-weekly, monthly, or is that annually by the brain trust that is myself and Sharon Alexander. I feel that The Show should have a little more spice in the veins of Jon Stewart, Bill Maher, and Kermit the Frog. I don't always want to play nice. I mean I am nice, but I want to stir things up a bit. Besides, good comedy so rarely comes from "nice" don't you think? I don't want to alienate anyone, and I hope that everyone comes along for the ride, even if just to risk opening your eyes to another world without actually going over.
I don't know when or if these changes will take place, just taking that first step of putting it out there. I think that generally the loudest among us get the most attention. I don't want to be loud, but sometimes I want to push back at those who are getting too loud. There seems to be more and more hate out there these days. It's on our news channels, on our social networks, it's out of the mouths of the ignorant. I would like to do more to point out that ugliness and invite people to hold a mirror to it. Maybe The Show can be my little way to disarm this nastiness by making fun of it. If you feel like it, have a listen and laugh along.
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