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.
Showing posts with label society. Show all posts
Showing posts with label society. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Friday, November 4, 2011
What The Hell Is Wrong With People?
A bill was passed in Michigan today that started life as a piece of anti-bullying legislation despite the fact that it ended up being opposed by all of Michigan's State Democrats and the father of the boy who inspired the bill. Why the opposition to the bill after wanting it to help the young people being bullied across Michigan?
Because of a last minute addition to the bill:
"A last-minute addition to “Matt’s Safe School Law” protects “sincerely held” religious beliefs or moral convictions from being considered bullying. Critics feel the language will give anti-gay bullies a “license to bully” by providing an exception. ”This is just unconscionable,” said Matt’s father, Kevin Epling of East Lansing. “This is government-sanctioned bigotry.”"
In other words, if your religion tells you to hate people for being different, then it's a-okay to bully them.
This of course prompts me to ask:
WHAT THE F*** IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?????
Not that I don't like a choice bit of hatred . . . no, wait, scratch that - it's the opposite, right? I really can't stand this level of government and church sponsored hatred.
There is something broken in our society these days, and it's not the other guys. It's us. You know why?
Because we as a society have no balls.
I really don't believe that the majority of folks are a**h***s - I truly think they are the minority - it's just that the majority seems to have absolutely no balls when it comes to standing up against them.
It's time for the rest of us - you know, the good ones - to stand up to these morons, these dunces, these sacks of human effluence, and tell them to shut up, sit down and let the smart ones drive for a while.
Because of a last minute addition to the bill:
"A last-minute addition to “Matt’s Safe School Law” protects “sincerely held” religious beliefs or moral convictions from being considered bullying. Critics feel the language will give anti-gay bullies a “license to bully” by providing an exception. ”This is just unconscionable,” said Matt’s father, Kevin Epling of East Lansing. “This is government-sanctioned bigotry.”"
In other words, if your religion tells you to hate people for being different, then it's a-okay to bully them.
This of course prompts me to ask:
WHAT THE F*** IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?????
Not that I don't like a choice bit of hatred . . . no, wait, scratch that - it's the opposite, right? I really can't stand this level of government and church sponsored hatred.
There is something broken in our society these days, and it's not the other guys. It's us. You know why?
Because we as a society have no balls.
I really don't believe that the majority of folks are a**h***s - I truly think they are the minority - it's just that the majority seems to have absolutely no balls when it comes to standing up against them.
It's time for the rest of us - you know, the good ones - to stand up to these morons, these dunces, these sacks of human effluence, and tell them to shut up, sit down and let the smart ones drive for a while.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Dear Mark Zuckerberg
Dear Mark Zuckerberg,
I think you're great. For real - you were amazing in Zombieland! But if I may be so bold as to suggest that your recent changes to Facebook, while brilliant for ADD afflicted chihuahuas, doesn't really jive too well with your more seasoned users - you know, those of us with a firm and troublesome grasp of linear time and in possession of one set of eyeballs.
Now, while I understand that Justin Timberlake convincingly argued the benefits of expansion in that wicked restaurant scene, I would also like to point out that that character was also later arrested for possessing drugs that may or may not lend themselves to wanting 150 different things to look at in one's newsfeed while meticulously cleaning one's home at three in the morning because one's waiting for a cake to bake because one suddenly became hungry in the wee hours after an all night pool party. Just saying . . .
I'd also like to point out that while you displayed razor sharp intuition picking apart the Winklevoss twins' lawyer in that boardroom scene, that doesn't mean you have a profound grasp on what I'd like to see in my newsfeed within a newsfeed (hint: It's not what friends are "liking" on other friends' statii). Algorithms are sexy and stuff, but they can't be used to read my mind. Only my wife can do that - and even then it's mainly only concerning whether or not I had that last cookie, or whether or not that girl that just walked past was cute or not.
Don't get me wrong Mark, I like your Facebook thing. It's free, it's a good networking tool, and it lets us all creep our exes' profiles to see if they wound up better or worse off after dumping us. The thing is most people like our social networking the way we like our relationships - initially exciting, eventually dependable, and with no huge sweeping changes that leave us confused and scared and trying desperately to figure out why it keeps bringing up stuff from last week in the middle of a conversation about Farmville.
Thanks for your time,
Richard
P.S. I hope they make Adventureland 2
I think you're great. For real - you were amazing in Zombieland! But if I may be so bold as to suggest that your recent changes to Facebook, while brilliant for ADD afflicted chihuahuas, doesn't really jive too well with your more seasoned users - you know, those of us with a firm and troublesome grasp of linear time and in possession of one set of eyeballs.
Now, while I understand that Justin Timberlake convincingly argued the benefits of expansion in that wicked restaurant scene, I would also like to point out that that character was also later arrested for possessing drugs that may or may not lend themselves to wanting 150 different things to look at in one's newsfeed while meticulously cleaning one's home at three in the morning because one's waiting for a cake to bake because one suddenly became hungry in the wee hours after an all night pool party. Just saying . . .
I'd also like to point out that while you displayed razor sharp intuition picking apart the Winklevoss twins' lawyer in that boardroom scene, that doesn't mean you have a profound grasp on what I'd like to see in my newsfeed within a newsfeed (hint: It's not what friends are "liking" on other friends' statii). Algorithms are sexy and stuff, but they can't be used to read my mind. Only my wife can do that - and even then it's mainly only concerning whether or not I had that last cookie, or whether or not that girl that just walked past was cute or not.
Don't get me wrong Mark, I like your Facebook thing. It's free, it's a good networking tool, and it lets us all creep our exes' profiles to see if they wound up better or worse off after dumping us. The thing is most people like our social networking the way we like our relationships - initially exciting, eventually dependable, and with no huge sweeping changes that leave us confused and scared and trying desperately to figure out why it keeps bringing up stuff from last week in the middle of a conversation about Farmville.
Thanks for your time,
Richard
P.S. I hope they make Adventureland 2
Monday, September 12, 2011
Stop Stupiding Up the Planet
Here's the thing - everybody's good at something.
Some of us are good at studying.
Some of us are good at sports - like gymnastics . . .
Others of us are good at eating bananas . . .
. . . okay, maybe that's a little much.
But the point is, we all have different strengths and talents.
Some people - scientists like Mr. Darwin for example -
- are good at being smart.
While people like Mr. Limbaugh -
- are really good at being pig-headed, ass-faced drug addicts who cater to the lowest common denominator and pander to the extremists by playing their own fears against them.
See? Everyone's good at something.
Every time I read the comment sections on news articles about Evolution online, I get the sense that the people who are really good at eating bananas are fancying themselves as being on the same level as Mr. Darwin.
Well, they're not.
These people get scared because science seems to be contradicting certain deep-seeded beliefs. They say that humans and apes are not descended from the same ancestor.
Although I wouldn't mind sharing an ancestor with the fetching Janet here - I'm sure you'll agree.
As a species, we have a lot of beliefs about nature and the Earth - some of them substantiated by science, some of them refuted.
The thing is however, that I can assure you that believing in something or not, doesn't change or make true or false something that exists or doesn't exist of its own accord.
My humble request would be that we let the people who are good at being smart take care of the smart stuff and led the banana eaters take care of the bananas.
Some of us are good at studying.
Some of us are good at sports - like gymnastics . . .
Others of us are good at eating bananas . . .
. . . okay, maybe that's a little much.
But the point is, we all have different strengths and talents.
Some people - scientists like Mr. Darwin for example -
- are good at being smart.
While people like Mr. Limbaugh -
- are really good at being pig-headed, ass-faced drug addicts who cater to the lowest common denominator and pander to the extremists by playing their own fears against them.
See? Everyone's good at something.
Every time I read the comment sections on news articles about Evolution online, I get the sense that the people who are really good at eating bananas are fancying themselves as being on the same level as Mr. Darwin.
These people get scared because science seems to be contradicting certain deep-seeded beliefs. They say that humans and apes are not descended from the same ancestor.
Although I wouldn't mind sharing an ancestor with the fetching Janet here - I'm sure you'll agree.
As a species, we have a lot of beliefs about nature and the Earth - some of them substantiated by science, some of them refuted.
The thing is however, that I can assure you that believing in something or not, doesn't change or make true or false something that exists or doesn't exist of its own accord.
My humble request would be that we let the people who are good at being smart take care of the smart stuff and led the banana eaters take care of the bananas.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Haters Gonna Hate . . . Because They're Assholes
I have a lot of great fans. Fans Tony the Tiger would be proud of.
They visit me on my fan page, they visit my website, they visit this blog, they write their government representatives to tell them how great I am, and some of the more female and attractive fans even send in bikini shots of themselves posing with cakes because they know how much I like cakes.
But then there are the anti-fans. Not Auntie Fan - she's lovely.
No, I'm talking about the haters. You know the ones - the total douche-bags that live on the internet and smack talk everything that comes their way.
They are also known as trolls - as in the things that live under bridges and eat childrens' bones, only in this case the bridge is their mother's basement and the childrens' bones are Hot Pockets and Tang.
I've come across a few of these guys and gals over my years as an F-List celebrity (that's right baby, F-List - I've had it confirmed by NASA. They apparently have a lot of down time these days).
They're generally on YouTube and love to slam me and call me a jerk, and weird looking, and small. Now to be fair, all of these things are true, but they wouldn't know that because they've never met me.
Although I may have met them. I wouldn't know. You know why? Because although literally billions of people hate on me on the interweb, figuratively zero people have ever said anything to my face. You know why?
Simple. Haters are pussies.
These people hate on everything and everyone. From that 14 year old girl Rebecca Black, to that 17 year old girl Justine Bieber, trolls attack anything that reminds them that they're angry at the world because their mom doesn't serve the Tang cold enough to their gaming liar.
So I say screw 'em . . . not literally of course!
I'm pretty sure they all have some kind of immaculately spread venereal disease that makes everything itch and 8-bit characters sexually appealing.
They visit me on my fan page, they visit my website, they visit this blog, they write their government representatives to tell them how great I am, and some of the more female and attractive fans even send in bikini shots of themselves posing with cakes because they know how much I like cakes.
But then there are the anti-fans. Not Auntie Fan - she's lovely.
No, I'm talking about the haters. You know the ones - the total douche-bags that live on the internet and smack talk everything that comes their way.
I've come across a few of these guys and gals over my years as an F-List celebrity (that's right baby, F-List - I've had it confirmed by NASA. They apparently have a lot of down time these days).
They're generally on YouTube and love to slam me and call me a jerk, and weird looking, and small. Now to be fair, all of these things are true, but they wouldn't know that because they've never met me.
Although I may have met them. I wouldn't know. You know why? Because although literally billions of people hate on me on the interweb, figuratively zero people have ever said anything to my face. You know why?
Simple. Haters are pussies.
These people hate on everything and everyone. From that 14 year old girl Rebecca Black, to that 17 year old girl Justine Bieber, trolls attack anything that reminds them that they're angry at the world because their mom doesn't serve the Tang cold enough to their gaming liar.
So I say screw 'em . . . not literally of course!
I'm pretty sure they all have some kind of immaculately spread venereal disease that makes everything itch and 8-bit characters sexually appealing.
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.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Smart Ain't Stupid
I remember, albeit perhaps through rose colored glasses, when being an intellectual wasn't a liability for a politician. Shoot, I remember when having an intellect wasn't a liability.
We live in this incredibly dumbed down era, a time when even the basest of us have been elevated to the status of genius by "opinion polls" that ask people what they "believe" in, as though it has some bearing on whether or not it exists.
My favorite such poll was one on CNN.com that queried visitors as to whether or not they "believed" in evolution. Sadly, shockingly, and stupidly it was a split vote.
I'm going to lay some truth on the internet here:
I don't think it's okay that a large and vocal group ridicules and beats down science with one voice and then demands science saves their lives when sickness comes calling.
I don't think it's okay that news outlets offer anything other than the facts and as near an objective story as humanly possible.
I don't think it's okay to hate one's neighbor while demanding love and kindness for oneself.
A well known and well respected politician died recently here in Canada. His passing unified people in sadness, regret, and sympathy. Whether people agreed with his politics or not, citizens everywhere respected the man. He left a letter to Canadians that was both heart-felt and inspiring. His last words in his letter were:
Wise words from a wise man. Jack Layton wasn't my politician, and the NDP isn't my party, but I am certainly proud to have had my politics impacted by a man (and other men and women) who aren't afraid to be wise.
We live in this incredibly dumbed down era, a time when even the basest of us have been elevated to the status of genius by "opinion polls" that ask people what they "believe" in, as though it has some bearing on whether or not it exists.
My favorite such poll was one on CNN.com that queried visitors as to whether or not they "believed" in evolution. Sadly, shockingly, and stupidly it was a split vote.
I'm going to lay some truth on the internet here:
- Evolution is real
- Climate change is real
- Natural disasters don't occur because anyone is mad at you
- It's none of your business if two people who aren't you get it on
- We really need to stop wasting time on these subjects
I don't think it's okay that a large and vocal group ridicules and beats down science with one voice and then demands science saves their lives when sickness comes calling.
I don't think it's okay that news outlets offer anything other than the facts and as near an objective story as humanly possible.
I don't think it's okay to hate one's neighbor while demanding love and kindness for oneself.
A well known and well respected politician died recently here in Canada. His passing unified people in sadness, regret, and sympathy. Whether people agreed with his politics or not, citizens everywhere respected the man. He left a letter to Canadians that was both heart-felt and inspiring. His last words in his letter were:
- "My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we'll change the world." - Jack Layton
Wise words from a wise man. Jack Layton wasn't my politician, and the NDP isn't my party, but I am certainly proud to have had my politics impacted by a man (and other men and women) who aren't afraid to be wise.
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.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
The More Separate We Are
Well, this is certainly the longest break I've taken yet between posts. I really do want to be more up to date with these things, and I certainly want to be less "heavy" with everything I write . . . but maybe not this time. To be fair, I don't think this is going to be quite as serious as the last entry - at least I'm not going to threaten any unseen force in this post.
I was musing earlier today about the state of my industry and more specifically the state of my career within that industry. The economy has obviously been a bit flat in the last year and a bit, and my industry has been no different. Looking forward, one can't help but look back. And so it was to the early days of my career toward which I cast my gaze, the heady days of being a very minor television celebrity back when cable meant a handful of people were watching, not the millions who watch their thousands of designer channels today. I often think about a very vivid memory that I have of one particular and rare day on set when I didn't have much to do and was therefore blessed with a day spent mostly watching others work. We were filming at a thoroughbred farm outside of Vancouver. It was beautiful warm day late in the summer and I was leaning against a fence watching the crew setting up a shot on the other side of the training track. From that vantage point I was struck by the notion that we were all a bunch of grown-ups being paid to play make-believe. Grown men and women (and me) rushed about lugging equipment here and there, setting up in arbitrary places to shoot random people saying made-up words so that other people could watch our enactment of a pretend situation written by someone else they didn't know. Millions and millions of dollars are spent on this form of entertainment when really folks could just get together and make-up stuff for themselves. It's cheaper and it gets you out of the house.
I think a lot about that tiny little revelation. Someone paid us to play make-believe. There's no real rhyme or reason to it outside of the focus groups and the pitches. Once you're on set, the director points to where he or she wants people to play make-believe, and then the director of photography points lights at the place, and then they film us pretending. No hard and fast rules (well there are, but I won't get into that). Funny old thing. I know I'm not the first one to have this thought - heck, that's why everyone thinks it's so easy to do (it's not, but I won't get into that either). I would, however, caution everyone to not get too smug about my revelation - you know, about actors being just a bunch of people who get paid to make believe . . . The reality is, that we're all paid to make believe when we get right down to it.
You see in the old days, we as humans spent pretty much all of our time just focusing on staying alive. I'm not just talking about caveman days either. During our hunter/gatherer days, we spent an awful lot of time hunting, and . . . gathering. Then once we developed into an agrarian society, we still spent most of our time tending our animals, tending our crops, you know - agrarying (not a real word). We didn't have time for much else. As time crept forward however, we realized that we could divide our labor, and the first specialists arrived, followed closely by the first referrals. With this division of labor, we could focus more on one job and make more time for our families and golf. With this division also came the barter system. If you give me some of your grain, I'll give you one of my cows . . . this one here, low miles, only tipped by a little old granny on Sundays. Eventually of course, the barter system developed some snags - what if the guy you're trying to buy that car from doesn't want a cow, low miles or not? Welcome the currency based system! I'll give you X amount of this unit of currency with an agreed upon amount guaranteed non-negotiable by the ruling government, and you throw in the floor mats. Brilliant right?
Of course, now that we had all this free time because someone else was going to provide you with your food at a cost, and that other person was going to build your shelter at a cost, you'd better fill it - probably by doing something to generate currency so you could have these things. But what should you do? You have nothing that these other guys want. They already have the means to provide food and build shelter. What could you possibly offer them? I know! Ringtones! And so it was that ringtones were invented.
Outside of the truly important things like food, and shelter, and health services, all else is really secondary - but you try telling that to my accountant. As time has progressed, so has our need to not only earn money, but to fill our time. If we no longer spend all of this time finding food and making shelter, and protecting ourselves from things with really big teeth, we discover that life is really long (if we're lucky) and that we have to fill it. All the better if those things make us feel important. Most of it though is arbitrary stuff. We speak languages that have evolved over time from grunts to grunts that represent a verbalization indicating a thing, to specific words to denote variations of things to poetic words that bring us to tears. We've developed letters and a written language to record our history. We've developed mathematics, and cultures, and industry, and huge scale economies, but nothing can really separate us from the fact that the basics remain the most important - food, shelter, health. All of these great advances could have evolved differently or not existed at all and we would still be here as long as we had food, shelter, and health.
We all spend a lot of time convincing ourselves that what we do everyday is so important and integral to the survival of the human race - if the Henderson report doesn't get filed, the world is going to END! We also convince ourselves that the way we live is so important that we go to war over it. So when my accountant is adding arbitrary notational symbols to determine how much of a certain value of a currency I need to pay to an arbitrary governmental system occupying a random geographical region I will try to see her in the same light as I saw that crew years ago - as a grown-up playing make believe, albeit a very real make believe that stresses me out every April.
We as humans have very much created ourselves as a species in so many ways and have created the confines we live in when all we're really doing is occupying ourselves as we take this journey. In creating ourselves we have also separated ourselves not only from our former ancient selves, but also from each other. We are so specialized, so separate from each other that we have lost the ability to really provide for ourselves at a base level. I remember having another revelation (I'm full of them) as a young man. At 2 in the morning, I distinctly remember sitting in my bedroom in my parent's house and realizing that I didn't know how a single thing in that room worked - I mean I knew the concept behind everything, but if I suddenly found myself in the past I wouldn't be making a fortune by "inventing" it. It got to the point where I understood that there was a graphite shaft surrounded by wood making up my pencil, but I was damned if I could tell you how they put it there.
Max Weber talked about the idea of the iron cage - the idea that our divisions of labor forced us into these cages separate from those around us despite giving us the impression we were free. The current economic crunch has illustrated this perfectly. People becoming homeless, physically losing their shelter because that very specific task that they perform has been reduced. That very specific task that fed their family, put a roof over their head, and provided health, was and is for most of us an arbitrary task of our own creation that is in effect make believe despite our need for it. I think this point is apropos in light of the health care debate in the States right now. Does one really want to hinge a health care plan on the arbitrary task that we carry out to generate income if the past has proven to us how untenable that task might be?
We're only ever as strong as that weakest link, and in a society of specialists, that link might be our separation from each other and our needs, not our wants. The truth is, we're all (well most of us) playing make believe, and that's okay. It's only when we let the make believe become our only reality that we find ourselves on shaky ground. The idea that our make believe is the only make believe can do very bad things to good people. We must also remember that but for a slightly different evolution in our cultures we may be totally different people who are pretty much the exact same people we are anyway - you know what I mean?
I was musing earlier today about the state of my industry and more specifically the state of my career within that industry. The economy has obviously been a bit flat in the last year and a bit, and my industry has been no different. Looking forward, one can't help but look back. And so it was to the early days of my career toward which I cast my gaze, the heady days of being a very minor television celebrity back when cable meant a handful of people were watching, not the millions who watch their thousands of designer channels today. I often think about a very vivid memory that I have of one particular and rare day on set when I didn't have much to do and was therefore blessed with a day spent mostly watching others work. We were filming at a thoroughbred farm outside of Vancouver. It was beautiful warm day late in the summer and I was leaning against a fence watching the crew setting up a shot on the other side of the training track. From that vantage point I was struck by the notion that we were all a bunch of grown-ups being paid to play make-believe. Grown men and women (and me) rushed about lugging equipment here and there, setting up in arbitrary places to shoot random people saying made-up words so that other people could watch our enactment of a pretend situation written by someone else they didn't know. Millions and millions of dollars are spent on this form of entertainment when really folks could just get together and make-up stuff for themselves. It's cheaper and it gets you out of the house.
I think a lot about that tiny little revelation. Someone paid us to play make-believe. There's no real rhyme or reason to it outside of the focus groups and the pitches. Once you're on set, the director points to where he or she wants people to play make-believe, and then the director of photography points lights at the place, and then they film us pretending. No hard and fast rules (well there are, but I won't get into that). Funny old thing. I know I'm not the first one to have this thought - heck, that's why everyone thinks it's so easy to do (it's not, but I won't get into that either). I would, however, caution everyone to not get too smug about my revelation - you know, about actors being just a bunch of people who get paid to make believe . . . The reality is, that we're all paid to make believe when we get right down to it.
You see in the old days, we as humans spent pretty much all of our time just focusing on staying alive. I'm not just talking about caveman days either. During our hunter/gatherer days, we spent an awful lot of time hunting, and . . . gathering. Then once we developed into an agrarian society, we still spent most of our time tending our animals, tending our crops, you know - agrarying (not a real word). We didn't have time for much else. As time crept forward however, we realized that we could divide our labor, and the first specialists arrived, followed closely by the first referrals. With this division of labor, we could focus more on one job and make more time for our families and golf. With this division also came the barter system. If you give me some of your grain, I'll give you one of my cows . . . this one here, low miles, only tipped by a little old granny on Sundays. Eventually of course, the barter system developed some snags - what if the guy you're trying to buy that car from doesn't want a cow, low miles or not? Welcome the currency based system! I'll give you X amount of this unit of currency with an agreed upon amount guaranteed non-negotiable by the ruling government, and you throw in the floor mats. Brilliant right?
Of course, now that we had all this free time because someone else was going to provide you with your food at a cost, and that other person was going to build your shelter at a cost, you'd better fill it - probably by doing something to generate currency so you could have these things. But what should you do? You have nothing that these other guys want. They already have the means to provide food and build shelter. What could you possibly offer them? I know! Ringtones! And so it was that ringtones were invented.
Outside of the truly important things like food, and shelter, and health services, all else is really secondary - but you try telling that to my accountant. As time has progressed, so has our need to not only earn money, but to fill our time. If we no longer spend all of this time finding food and making shelter, and protecting ourselves from things with really big teeth, we discover that life is really long (if we're lucky) and that we have to fill it. All the better if those things make us feel important. Most of it though is arbitrary stuff. We speak languages that have evolved over time from grunts to grunts that represent a verbalization indicating a thing, to specific words to denote variations of things to poetic words that bring us to tears. We've developed letters and a written language to record our history. We've developed mathematics, and cultures, and industry, and huge scale economies, but nothing can really separate us from the fact that the basics remain the most important - food, shelter, health. All of these great advances could have evolved differently or not existed at all and we would still be here as long as we had food, shelter, and health.
We all spend a lot of time convincing ourselves that what we do everyday is so important and integral to the survival of the human race - if the Henderson report doesn't get filed, the world is going to END! We also convince ourselves that the way we live is so important that we go to war over it. So when my accountant is adding arbitrary notational symbols to determine how much of a certain value of a currency I need to pay to an arbitrary governmental system occupying a random geographical region I will try to see her in the same light as I saw that crew years ago - as a grown-up playing make believe, albeit a very real make believe that stresses me out every April.
We as humans have very much created ourselves as a species in so many ways and have created the confines we live in when all we're really doing is occupying ourselves as we take this journey. In creating ourselves we have also separated ourselves not only from our former ancient selves, but also from each other. We are so specialized, so separate from each other that we have lost the ability to really provide for ourselves at a base level. I remember having another revelation (I'm full of them) as a young man. At 2 in the morning, I distinctly remember sitting in my bedroom in my parent's house and realizing that I didn't know how a single thing in that room worked - I mean I knew the concept behind everything, but if I suddenly found myself in the past I wouldn't be making a fortune by "inventing" it. It got to the point where I understood that there was a graphite shaft surrounded by wood making up my pencil, but I was damned if I could tell you how they put it there.
Max Weber talked about the idea of the iron cage - the idea that our divisions of labor forced us into these cages separate from those around us despite giving us the impression we were free. The current economic crunch has illustrated this perfectly. People becoming homeless, physically losing their shelter because that very specific task that they perform has been reduced. That very specific task that fed their family, put a roof over their head, and provided health, was and is for most of us an arbitrary task of our own creation that is in effect make believe despite our need for it. I think this point is apropos in light of the health care debate in the States right now. Does one really want to hinge a health care plan on the arbitrary task that we carry out to generate income if the past has proven to us how untenable that task might be?
We're only ever as strong as that weakest link, and in a society of specialists, that link might be our separation from each other and our needs, not our wants. The truth is, we're all (well most of us) playing make believe, and that's okay. It's only when we let the make believe become our only reality that we find ourselves on shaky ground. The idea that our make believe is the only make believe can do very bad things to good people. We must also remember that but for a slightly different evolution in our cultures we may be totally different people who are pretty much the exact same people we are anyway - you know what I mean?
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