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.
Showing posts with label culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label culture. Show all posts
Friday, November 4, 2011
Saturday, October 29, 2011
I'm Not An Artist Anymore
I have a confession to make: I'm not an artist anymore.
I've always been an actor. I've always needed to perform. For all intents and purposes, I've been doing it as long as I can remember.
I remember the moment my mother looked at my father after I had finished performing yet another little "skits' and said to him, "we should get him into theatre". I remember my first class, my first presentation, and my first show. I remember the audience. The applause. It appeared as though this was what I was and had ever been.
I was 9 years old.
I continued down the path, gaining experience and praise until at 14, I was invited to join a local agency. The first parts came, and then the first series: "The Adventures of the Black Stallion". Three years we shot - in Canada, France, and New Zealand. Some amazing times and memories were made. I loved working. I loved earning money. The show ended after 78 episodes, and I chose to stay in Vancouver rather than head south to LA, to sun, and to bigger and better. I picked home over away because I had spent so much time away, that I wanted to make a home. I thought I would grow here. Other series came and I worked a lot, but plateaus were reached. A friend of mine has said that Vancouver is less a springboard and more a diving board. And although many exceptions have proven the rule, in my case it seems that the rule proved the rule.
I'm happy with and proud of what I've accomplished, but the artistic element in me has remained unfulfilled. To be fair, I have brought it on myself. I've long regarded what I do to be the business that it is. I'm not in the scene anymore. I checked out years ago. I'm not a very "actor-y" actor and am a solitary one at that, and with a family my priorities have changed. But I do feel that I may have done myself a disservice. I don't feel connected to what I do anymore by doing it. It is - in my opinion - supremely difficult to be artistically fulfilled as an actor in the film industry without having long term projects - at least the fulfillment that I want.
My artistic connection to acting is maintained by the teaching of it. I've been instructing people in the ways of screen-acting for some 19-ish years. I've been accused of being a good teacher, but I would argue that I'm not such a good teacher as I am a good director. I can read people, notice their foibles, tell when they're lying. I love the psychology of acting and bringing students to new breakthroughs. I love showing people how deep and difficult acting is when done right and how brilliant and rewarding it is when submerged in it.
I'm approaching forty now. Sure I'm aging gracefully, and while my children make me old before my time, my wife keeps me young with her own youth. Age tends to sharpen one's focus though, and I've realized I don't want to be just a businessman actor, I want to be an artist again. I need to stretch, to shake off the rust. I need to go back to my roots - I need to go back to the theatre. But I also need to go my way. Honestly.
I love acting. Always will. I also love directing. This is why I've decided to start a small - some might say tiny - theatre company in the new year. Original material. Brilliant young actors. A long journey. I have no idea of the details (yet) - only that it needs to breathe. Bigger and better. Always bigger. Always better.
I've always been an actor. I've always needed to perform. For all intents and purposes, I've been doing it as long as I can remember.
I remember the moment my mother looked at my father after I had finished performing yet another little "skits' and said to him, "we should get him into theatre". I remember my first class, my first presentation, and my first show. I remember the audience. The applause. It appeared as though this was what I was and had ever been.
I was 9 years old.
I continued down the path, gaining experience and praise until at 14, I was invited to join a local agency. The first parts came, and then the first series: "The Adventures of the Black Stallion". Three years we shot - in Canada, France, and New Zealand. Some amazing times and memories were made. I loved working. I loved earning money. The show ended after 78 episodes, and I chose to stay in Vancouver rather than head south to LA, to sun, and to bigger and better. I picked home over away because I had spent so much time away, that I wanted to make a home. I thought I would grow here. Other series came and I worked a lot, but plateaus were reached. A friend of mine has said that Vancouver is less a springboard and more a diving board. And although many exceptions have proven the rule, in my case it seems that the rule proved the rule.
I'm happy with and proud of what I've accomplished, but the artistic element in me has remained unfulfilled. To be fair, I have brought it on myself. I've long regarded what I do to be the business that it is. I'm not in the scene anymore. I checked out years ago. I'm not a very "actor-y" actor and am a solitary one at that, and with a family my priorities have changed. But I do feel that I may have done myself a disservice. I don't feel connected to what I do anymore by doing it. It is - in my opinion - supremely difficult to be artistically fulfilled as an actor in the film industry without having long term projects - at least the fulfillment that I want.
My artistic connection to acting is maintained by the teaching of it. I've been instructing people in the ways of screen-acting for some 19-ish years. I've been accused of being a good teacher, but I would argue that I'm not such a good teacher as I am a good director. I can read people, notice their foibles, tell when they're lying. I love the psychology of acting and bringing students to new breakthroughs. I love showing people how deep and difficult acting is when done right and how brilliant and rewarding it is when submerged in it.
I'm approaching forty now. Sure I'm aging gracefully, and while my children make me old before my time, my wife keeps me young with her own youth. Age tends to sharpen one's focus though, and I've realized I don't want to be just a businessman actor, I want to be an artist again. I need to stretch, to shake off the rust. I need to go back to my roots - I need to go back to the theatre. But I also need to go my way. Honestly.
I love acting. Always will. I also love directing. This is why I've decided to start a small - some might say tiny - theatre company in the new year. Original material. Brilliant young actors. A long journey. I have no idea of the details (yet) - only that it needs to breathe. Bigger and better. Always bigger. Always better.
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
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.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Taking the Fun Out of Fundamental
It has occurred to me that the most fundamentally, intractably, and aggressively religious among us don't understand life.
You know the ones.
They want to run your life. They want to tell you how to live. They want to tell you how evil you are and why you're going to go to hell. They don't believe in a separation of church and state unless it's someone else's church from their state.
Some of them want to hurt you.
They are distrustful of intellect, let alone intellectuals. They flat out hate science right up until they need it to save their lives.
They will tell you it's us against them. Of course the ones you're talking to are always the "us" in the equation no matter where on Earth you're standing.
I have realized these people don't understand life because they think they are going to live in one capacity or another forever.
It's awfully easy to be glib with someone else's life if you don't believe in death.
No matter your belief, try a little experiment - spend one day as though there is no heaven. Spend that day savoring the light in the present that only exists in that moment.
Try to have a little fun. Pass on the fundamentalism.
You know the ones.
They want to run your life. They want to tell you how to live. They want to tell you how evil you are and why you're going to go to hell. They don't believe in a separation of church and state unless it's someone else's church from their state.
Some of them want to hurt you.
They are distrustful of intellect, let alone intellectuals. They flat out hate science right up until they need it to save their lives.
They will tell you it's us against them. Of course the ones you're talking to are always the "us" in the equation no matter where on Earth you're standing.
I have realized these people don't understand life because they think they are going to live in one capacity or another forever.
It's awfully easy to be glib with someone else's life if you don't believe in death.
No matter your belief, try a little experiment - spend one day as though there is no heaven. Spend that day savoring the light in the present that only exists in that moment.
Try to have a little fun. Pass on the fundamentalism.
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.
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.
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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