For all my talk of skepticism, I really like the idea of aliens visiting Earth, Bigfoot roaming forests, and Chupa-thingy eating cows or whatever. Whenever one of these shows hits TV, I'll pretty much always tune in. Two nights ago was the first time this started to bother me. The thesis of this show was that aliens have visited Earth in the past with fantastic technologies, were worshiped as gods, then left and are remembered only through cryptic, dubious "evidence."
There are enormous figures carved into a plateau in Nazca, Peru (Nazca Lines) that can only be seen from the air...an impossibility until fairly recently. There are Maya carvings that show something that looks kinda like a modern rocket. Construction of the Great Pyramid was, of course, aided by extraterrestrials. Even the great Incan city of Cusco must have had the help of super-advanced visitors, else how could they erect their super precise walls?--it's a perfect fit with no mortar!
Are our egos so fragile that so many must simply reject the notion that ancient people were smart? Just because we were unable to do something until recently (if at all) doesn't mean others couldn't figure it out. I have it on good authority that I'm a pretty smart guy (I test well anyway) but I've known plenty of people who are way better in any number of things than I am. Some people just understand machines. Some people read music like I read a book. Some can even do serious math in their heads just because the numbers make sense. Why is it so difficult to believe that these ancient people were just really good at what they did?
The how of the Nazca Lines seems pretty straightforward--rub something against the ground until a line is made. Such straight lines are apparently impossible to create...and yet, there they are. Mountains were leveled off (I'm willing to believe) without hydraulics. These were people with nothing but time, strong backs, and religious fervor. Such people can quite literally do anything, especially in large numbers. The why really doesn't matter much. Why do I write this blog? I don't really have a compelling reason. I just write. People needn't always have reasons for what they do.
The Maya carving is probably a pretty serious case of a self-fulfilling prophecy. The people who see a shuttle launch in this slab are the same sorts who go into Maya ruins looking specifically for evidence of aliens. When someone like this goes into ruins and finds such evidence, I might be more swayed.
The Great Pyramid is a feat of construction without modern parallel. It's hard to imagine something--anything that massive. There's no doubt in my mind though that it was built by many, many very human hands.
The walls of Cusco are especially impressive to me. I can't even fold a sheet of paper quite in half, but these folks carved rocks with such exactness that I can't fit my paper into the seams. Really impressive. Maybe a bit OCD. Human.
We like to think of ourselves as the top of a ladder. We are the very pinnacle, the culmination of all that came before. Perhaps we're simply the highest branch of a tree. Believing that our ancestors must've been aided by the Greys to have accomplished what we can scarcely imagine diminishes not only their accomplishments, but also how those feats have shaped us. Highest branch or highest rung, it doesn't mean a damn thing without everything that rests below.
As much as I'd like to meet an alien, I'd rather believe in us and our abilities. No creatures have made a bigger impact on this planet than human beings being human. All of our modern accomplishments come from human ingenuity and perseverance. Why can't the same be true for ancient accomplishments?
Monday, April 13, 2009
Friday, April 3, 2009
When in Doubt, Ask a Question
Science has always held a special place in my heart. I like the process. I like the logic. I like the remaining mysteries. Most of all though, I love the inherent skepticism. Having strongly-felt beliefs is all well and good, but it can be dangerous if that blinds one from the truth.
Through a series of lucky Wikipedia searches and inspired podcast searches, I've been exposed to the so-called "Skeptic Movement." The idea seems, at first glance, something like a straw man argument writ large (we don't hear all that much about the "Mindless Believer Movement"), but at a deeper level it appeals to me in ways that I've always felt religion should have.
With the benefit of hindsight, I'm wondering if my increasing distance from the tenets of any specific religion is due to some instinctive skepticism. Why, out of all the places in the universe, would God trouble himself so with the minutiae of everyone's life that we must live in fear of even the slightest transgressions? How can we pursue a path toward Heaven or Hell without knowing the criteria for good or bad? What's the tipping point for damnation? Not everyone can be right; I really like alcohol, pork, and beef--that already pisses off about half the world's population. Adherence to some dogma or another can provide a fairly consistent rubric for morality (though not in all cases), but that's just about as far as its assertions can be stretched.
I'm bothered by our use of the word "cult" when we come across some small, radical group of people with newsworthy beliefs. I've found three interesting definitions for a cult:
1. a group or sect bound together by devotion to or veneration of the same thing, person, ideal, etc.
2. a group having a sacred ideology and a set of rites centering around their sacred symbols
3. a religion or religious sect generally considered to be extremist or false, with its followers often living in an unconventional manner under the guidance of an authoritarian, charismatic leader
Now tell me, what religion, sect, whatever doesn't fall into at least one of these categories. We say cult and mean it as a pejorative, but where's the line? Is it number of members? Is it just familiarity; we're more comfortable with others holding beliefs closest to our own? Is there a substantive difference between a cult and a religion? I truly don't know, but that I need even ask the question casts doubts all its own.
I think it was Karl Marx who referred to religion as an opiate for the masses. That's probably a little cynical, but not as far off the mark as I want it to be. There's very little that should be taken at face value. Asking questions is never harmful; it only feels that way if someone doesn't like the answers. In troubled times, it's all the more important to evaluate one's beliefs. Why is this important to me? Why is this right? Why is this wrong? We should welcome provocative questions, difficult answers.
Holding any belief comes with the implied burden of defending it as best as possible. Holding strong beliefs should come with the responsibility to try and prove it wrong. It is through that process (one remarkably similar to the SOP for any science experiment) that we hone our beliefs and, almost by elimination, prove them right.
I'm not comfortable with the presumably immutable laws of religion. Wars have been waged with the supposed backing of religious laws. Millions of people have been burned, drowned, tortured, oppressed, gassed, and outright murdered for being on the wrong end of that imaginary religious line. It used to be that I could go to Hell for eating meat on Friday or working through Sunday. What's changed? Everything. We are an ever-changing species, and religions adapt with us. I wonder, just how deep does that fluidity go?
Through a series of lucky Wikipedia searches and inspired podcast searches, I've been exposed to the so-called "Skeptic Movement." The idea seems, at first glance, something like a straw man argument writ large (we don't hear all that much about the "Mindless Believer Movement"), but at a deeper level it appeals to me in ways that I've always felt religion should have.
With the benefit of hindsight, I'm wondering if my increasing distance from the tenets of any specific religion is due to some instinctive skepticism. Why, out of all the places in the universe, would God trouble himself so with the minutiae of everyone's life that we must live in fear of even the slightest transgressions? How can we pursue a path toward Heaven or Hell without knowing the criteria for good or bad? What's the tipping point for damnation? Not everyone can be right; I really like alcohol, pork, and beef--that already pisses off about half the world's population. Adherence to some dogma or another can provide a fairly consistent rubric for morality (though not in all cases), but that's just about as far as its assertions can be stretched.
I'm bothered by our use of the word "cult" when we come across some small, radical group of people with newsworthy beliefs. I've found three interesting definitions for a cult:
1. a group or sect bound together by devotion to or veneration of the same thing, person, ideal, etc.
2. a group having a sacred ideology and a set of rites centering around their sacred symbols
3. a religion or religious sect generally considered to be extremist or false, with its followers often living in an unconventional manner under the guidance of an authoritarian, charismatic leader
Now tell me, what religion, sect, whatever doesn't fall into at least one of these categories. We say cult and mean it as a pejorative, but where's the line? Is it number of members? Is it just familiarity; we're more comfortable with others holding beliefs closest to our own? Is there a substantive difference between a cult and a religion? I truly don't know, but that I need even ask the question casts doubts all its own.
I think it was Karl Marx who referred to religion as an opiate for the masses. That's probably a little cynical, but not as far off the mark as I want it to be. There's very little that should be taken at face value. Asking questions is never harmful; it only feels that way if someone doesn't like the answers. In troubled times, it's all the more important to evaluate one's beliefs. Why is this important to me? Why is this right? Why is this wrong? We should welcome provocative questions, difficult answers.
Holding any belief comes with the implied burden of defending it as best as possible. Holding strong beliefs should come with the responsibility to try and prove it wrong. It is through that process (one remarkably similar to the SOP for any science experiment) that we hone our beliefs and, almost by elimination, prove them right.
I'm not comfortable with the presumably immutable laws of religion. Wars have been waged with the supposed backing of religious laws. Millions of people have been burned, drowned, tortured, oppressed, gassed, and outright murdered for being on the wrong end of that imaginary religious line. It used to be that I could go to Hell for eating meat on Friday or working through Sunday. What's changed? Everything. We are an ever-changing species, and religions adapt with us. I wonder, just how deep does that fluidity go?
Monday, March 23, 2009
I'm Not a Hater; Just a Realist
I'm gonna say it. It's long past time someone did. The Nintendo Wii's effective lifespan is over. Last week, there were a rash of small, quickly ignored articles about how Nintendo is going to remain on the cutting edge (the other authors' emphasis, not mine); there's just one I really want to talk about though. It wonders if the Wii can earn back the "hardcore" (I'll call them just "core," but that's a different rant) gaming crowd. The short answer is "No." Among the people who actually play games, the Wii is a joke. Sacrificing high definition graphics for usability was a bold move, and it's a great business move, but it only really works if there's software to back it up.
All of the games made in-house by Nintendo are amazing. Pretty much everything else is awful. There are so many terrible games out there that the Interwebs created a new term: Shovelware. I know of only two games that could come close to drawing in core gamers, but they came way too late and are still too quirky to change the trend. As a real gaming console, Wii was almost dead on arrival.
What drove Wii's sales was price, family-friendly appearance, and the promise of good games...eventually. The good games came out, and I played them, but I was reminded (again) that I don't really like Mario, Zelda, or Metroid. Poor planning on my part. The Wiimote, cute as it is, is simply not accurate enough for any real precision work on which many of my favorite games thrive. The graphics were adequate, but not as immersive as other systems. There's a lot wrong with the Wii, but that never seemed to matter.
Good ole Reggie et al. did a marvelous job pitching this to all groups, but they found their greatest toehold among casual gamers. My Xbox controller has, depending on how creative you wish to be, 14 buttons that I must keep track of at all times and use appropriately. Wii's initial goal was to emulate that kind of high-end gameplay, but effectively use two buttons. Lofty goals, but developers never really got on board. Nintendo knew what it wanted and knew how to get it, but third-parties still haven't quite gotten the gist of it.
If the only criteria we look at are units sold and money made, Wii is the irrefutable victor of this generation (so far). Yet, all of my friends have had more fun with their Xbox 360 than they ever would on Wii. Hell, one friend sold a Wii, bought a 360, and regrets ever buying Nintendo's baby.
Wii is innovative and fun (in spurts). It's opened the world of gaming to virtually everyone. It is a resounding success in all the ways that matter to Nintendo, but they'll have to come out with something new soon. Production is finally meeting demand. Reduced scarcity will reduce interest, and things get less rosy.
Nintendo still has a lot of Nerd Credits in its inventory, but it's got to find a better balance of innovation and familiarity for its next generation, or the core gamers might just resign themselves to a Mario-less world and keep playing something else in high definition on a console that includes a damn DVD player.
Change is all well and good, but Sony's proven time and again that it won't mean much if it alienates the core fanbase. Casual gamers make up a huge portion of the population and spend lots of money, but it's the core gamers who inspire the innovative spirit of those in the industry; don't sacrifice them for an easy buck.
P.S. To illustrate the concept of Shovelware, Action Girlz Racing exists.
All of the games made in-house by Nintendo are amazing. Pretty much everything else is awful. There are so many terrible games out there that the Interwebs created a new term: Shovelware. I know of only two games that could come close to drawing in core gamers, but they came way too late and are still too quirky to change the trend. As a real gaming console, Wii was almost dead on arrival.
What drove Wii's sales was price, family-friendly appearance, and the promise of good games...eventually. The good games came out, and I played them, but I was reminded (again) that I don't really like Mario, Zelda, or Metroid. Poor planning on my part. The Wiimote, cute as it is, is simply not accurate enough for any real precision work on which many of my favorite games thrive. The graphics were adequate, but not as immersive as other systems. There's a lot wrong with the Wii, but that never seemed to matter.
Good ole Reggie et al. did a marvelous job pitching this to all groups, but they found their greatest toehold among casual gamers. My Xbox controller has, depending on how creative you wish to be, 14 buttons that I must keep track of at all times and use appropriately. Wii's initial goal was to emulate that kind of high-end gameplay, but effectively use two buttons. Lofty goals, but developers never really got on board. Nintendo knew what it wanted and knew how to get it, but third-parties still haven't quite gotten the gist of it.
If the only criteria we look at are units sold and money made, Wii is the irrefutable victor of this generation (so far). Yet, all of my friends have had more fun with their Xbox 360 than they ever would on Wii. Hell, one friend sold a Wii, bought a 360, and regrets ever buying Nintendo's baby.
Wii is innovative and fun (in spurts). It's opened the world of gaming to virtually everyone. It is a resounding success in all the ways that matter to Nintendo, but they'll have to come out with something new soon. Production is finally meeting demand. Reduced scarcity will reduce interest, and things get less rosy.
Nintendo still has a lot of Nerd Credits in its inventory, but it's got to find a better balance of innovation and familiarity for its next generation, or the core gamers might just resign themselves to a Mario-less world and keep playing something else in high definition on a console that includes a damn DVD player.
Change is all well and good, but Sony's proven time and again that it won't mean much if it alienates the core fanbase. Casual gamers make up a huge portion of the population and spend lots of money, but it's the core gamers who inspire the innovative spirit of those in the industry; don't sacrifice them for an easy buck.
P.S. To illustrate the concept of Shovelware, Action Girlz Racing exists.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Can we have a new story yet?
Okay. AIG did a colossally stupid thing with these bonuses. They must have known what the backlash would be. Even a hint of excess right now is pretty much guaranteed to piss a lot of people off. They told the government what was coming and weren't cut off at the knees, which amounts to permission in the business world. Lots and lots of balls have been dropped over the past few months. This is just one more.
Over the past year, AIG has gotten more than $170 billion in federal aid. The bonuses total up to $165 million. The bonuses account for 0.097% of the total federal aid. PERCENT! The federal aid is more than a THOUSAND times greater than the bonuses. This is a literal drop in the bucket.
There are a lot of interesting quotes from senators and congressman. Some ultimatums, some threats, some promises, some hypocrisy. Status quo. This new tax is wrong--more wrong than the bonuses.
The government's job it to withdraw taxes for specific purposes (programs, services, The Beast, etc.). This is a tax of vengeance and drumming up public opinion. I am embarrassed on their behalf.
We have far larger problems right now. The smallest effective denomination to get us out of this mess is hundreds of billions of dollars leading up to trillions of dollars. How much money have we burned on witch hunts, hearings? How will these efforts help us even in the short term? The best we've done is refocus the public on smaller problems--scarcely a good thing in my estimation.
Right now, more than ever, we need to try and see the big picture. This money almost could not matter less in that big picture. President Obama--the supposed pragmatist--needs to move beyond this incident and lead us in the right direction, not get caught up with the pundits.
AIG beat the system. We deal with it this time, learn from our mistakes, and do our damnedest to prevent this nonsense from happening in the future.
I'm normally all about the principle of the matter, but this needs to just go away.
Over the past year, AIG has gotten more than $170 billion in federal aid. The bonuses total up to $165 million. The bonuses account for 0.097% of the total federal aid. PERCENT! The federal aid is more than a THOUSAND times greater than the bonuses. This is a literal drop in the bucket.
There are a lot of interesting quotes from senators and congressman. Some ultimatums, some threats, some promises, some hypocrisy. Status quo. This new tax is wrong--more wrong than the bonuses.
The government's job it to withdraw taxes for specific purposes (programs, services, The Beast, etc.). This is a tax of vengeance and drumming up public opinion. I am embarrassed on their behalf.
We have far larger problems right now. The smallest effective denomination to get us out of this mess is hundreds of billions of dollars leading up to trillions of dollars. How much money have we burned on witch hunts, hearings? How will these efforts help us even in the short term? The best we've done is refocus the public on smaller problems--scarcely a good thing in my estimation.
Right now, more than ever, we need to try and see the big picture. This money almost could not matter less in that big picture. President Obama--the supposed pragmatist--needs to move beyond this incident and lead us in the right direction, not get caught up with the pundits.
AIG beat the system. We deal with it this time, learn from our mistakes, and do our damnedest to prevent this nonsense from happening in the future.
I'm normally all about the principle of the matter, but this needs to just go away.
Monday, March 9, 2009
My Letter to the Editor
I've got a job now. As with most jobs though, there is some down time to be found. I tend to devote much of my time reading through the Opinion section of whatever newspapers I can think of at the time. I came across one letter to the editor in the Washington Post today from someone in Sterling, Virginia that said, essentially, that the rich should consider their impending tax hikes an implicit "thank you" to all the middle-class workers on whose backs such fortunes were made.
Oh my.
This assumes, of course, that all wealthy (and, by implication, successful) people have somehow exploited the working man. Sure, there are some who fall into that category, but I'd wager that most of the truly wealthy are either the beneficiaries of Old Money or sound investments. Does a person really need a yacht, seven cars, or a third home? Arguably not, but that doesn't change the fact that people have all these things. Those people made those buying decisions because they had the funds to do so. Those people have expenses to maintain all those things. Why should any of that money go to bail out people who lose their shirts because they get stuck under a house they should never have had in the first place? Where does that supposed obligation come from?
The purpose of taxes is to pay the government for the services it offers. Such things include, education, Social Security, MediCare, welfare, and dozens of others. Excepting the first in the list, who uses these services? Not the rich. Why should the onus for these services rest solely on the shoulders of those who have escaped needing them?
I admit that I'm pretty insulated from such things. Also, I'm in a really sour mood. Seems to me that this is selfishness and jealousy at work. "We want all the perks, but none of the burden." Maybe that's what will come to replace the American Dream once we complete our changeover to socialism.
Right now we have an incredibly well-educated president who is using his superior speaking skills to convince the public to ignore all the problems with our current course:
* We still have no plan to save the banks (not that I necessarily think we should).
* We've been told that the DalaiBama will wage a war of sorts on pork-filled bills just after he signed more than $700,000,000,000 dollars of pork into law.
* We are at the beginning of a global depression.
* Global tensions are only going to rise as resources become scarce.
* Our president is closing Guantanamo Bay because of violations to the Geneva Convention...terrorists weren't at the Convention and non-citizens don't get Constitutional rights. Closing the camp is a publicity move to help Americans feel more warm and fuzzy inside. Obama's plan for Iraq is the same fucking thing Bush said, but it's okay because Obama's so very cute...and black...not that it matters.
What's the solution?
1. Stop messing with other countries
2. Acknowledge those in the military as the heroes they are; fund them, maintain military strength even in times of peace
3. Improve our education system. Civics isn't even taught in most places. Only successful schools get money. "No Child Left Behind" is a nice sentiment, but only hamstrings those who are actually able to excel. The Standards of Learning make it impossible for learning to be fun because teachers are penalized for deviating from the "necessary" material. Football teams get new jerseys every year, but bands and orchestras are forced to practice in asbestos-laced closets due to a "lack of funds." Why is it that every other industrialized nation can learn at least two languages to fluency and we are proud with mediocrity in English?
4. Practice what we preach. We are so anxious to go into other countries and show them how democracy is done. It's a good year when 35% of the population leaves their homes to vote for the next "Leader of the Free World." la-tee-fucking-da
5. Choose an official language. Wah, we'll be mean to all those illegal aliens. Oh well. If people want to retain their language and culture in their new neighborhood, fine, but English should be necessary to get around. What possible good reason could there be for translating the driving test into so many different languages?
6. Adopt American babies. I know those commercials can be tempting, but there are a lot of lost souls in foster care here. Help them. Other countries have their problems, it sucks, but our first obligation should be to help as much as possible at home and then look elsewhere.
7. We are not the world's police officer. Genocide is a terrible thing, but it's not our problem. We like to claim the moral high ground for such things, but let's not forget where this very land came from. Maybe we feel the need to atone for the sins of previous generations by trying to prevent all bad things happening, but a government cannot be a person. A government's exclusive purpose is to preserve itself and the people under its umbrella. Anyone outside that boundary, however desperate their situation, is simply extra.
8. Elect me as King. Seriously. You wanted change, right?
9. Understand that disagreeing does not mean partisan politics, it means disagreeing. When normal people don't see eye-to-eye, it sends them back to the negotiating table to try and find some middle-ground. When politicians don't see eye-to-eye they dig in their heels and scream "partisanship!" I hate politics. I hate politicians. The root of all evil on the planet is the politician. Disagree? Start proving me wrong.
10. Ban "reality" shows. This madness has to stop. There is no more efficient way of killing braincells than believing any of that is real. I wish I was kidding.
11. Last, but certainly not least, GET OVER YOURSELVES! "We're the best country on the planet," "We have the best form of government," "Capitalism is better than everything else," any of these sound familiar? I'm not gonna be the one to say any of these are wrong, but there is no place for such statements in rational conversation. "Best" is not a real measurement and, thus, can't be used as an accurate point of comparison. There's also a lot of bias because, y'know, we live here. Plenty of other countries get along just fine. Maybe it's ignorance on their part, but it's arrogance on ours. Which is worse?
I still have my hope, but it's a fragile light right now.
Oh my.
This assumes, of course, that all wealthy (and, by implication, successful) people have somehow exploited the working man. Sure, there are some who fall into that category, but I'd wager that most of the truly wealthy are either the beneficiaries of Old Money or sound investments. Does a person really need a yacht, seven cars, or a third home? Arguably not, but that doesn't change the fact that people have all these things. Those people made those buying decisions because they had the funds to do so. Those people have expenses to maintain all those things. Why should any of that money go to bail out people who lose their shirts because they get stuck under a house they should never have had in the first place? Where does that supposed obligation come from?
The purpose of taxes is to pay the government for the services it offers. Such things include, education, Social Security, MediCare, welfare, and dozens of others. Excepting the first in the list, who uses these services? Not the rich. Why should the onus for these services rest solely on the shoulders of those who have escaped needing them?
I admit that I'm pretty insulated from such things. Also, I'm in a really sour mood. Seems to me that this is selfishness and jealousy at work. "We want all the perks, but none of the burden." Maybe that's what will come to replace the American Dream once we complete our changeover to socialism.
Right now we have an incredibly well-educated president who is using his superior speaking skills to convince the public to ignore all the problems with our current course:
* We still have no plan to save the banks (not that I necessarily think we should).
* We've been told that the DalaiBama will wage a war of sorts on pork-filled bills just after he signed more than $700,000,000,000 dollars of pork into law.
* We are at the beginning of a global depression.
* Global tensions are only going to rise as resources become scarce.
* Our president is closing Guantanamo Bay because of violations to the Geneva Convention...terrorists weren't at the Convention and non-citizens don't get Constitutional rights. Closing the camp is a publicity move to help Americans feel more warm and fuzzy inside. Obama's plan for Iraq is the same fucking thing Bush said, but it's okay because Obama's so very cute...and black...not that it matters.
What's the solution?
1. Stop messing with other countries
2. Acknowledge those in the military as the heroes they are; fund them, maintain military strength even in times of peace
3. Improve our education system. Civics isn't even taught in most places. Only successful schools get money. "No Child Left Behind" is a nice sentiment, but only hamstrings those who are actually able to excel. The Standards of Learning make it impossible for learning to be fun because teachers are penalized for deviating from the "necessary" material. Football teams get new jerseys every year, but bands and orchestras are forced to practice in asbestos-laced closets due to a "lack of funds." Why is it that every other industrialized nation can learn at least two languages to fluency and we are proud with mediocrity in English?
4. Practice what we preach. We are so anxious to go into other countries and show them how democracy is done. It's a good year when 35% of the population leaves their homes to vote for the next "Leader of the Free World." la-tee-fucking-da
5. Choose an official language. Wah, we'll be mean to all those illegal aliens. Oh well. If people want to retain their language and culture in their new neighborhood, fine, but English should be necessary to get around. What possible good reason could there be for translating the driving test into so many different languages?
6. Adopt American babies. I know those commercials can be tempting, but there are a lot of lost souls in foster care here. Help them. Other countries have their problems, it sucks, but our first obligation should be to help as much as possible at home and then look elsewhere.
7. We are not the world's police officer. Genocide is a terrible thing, but it's not our problem. We like to claim the moral high ground for such things, but let's not forget where this very land came from. Maybe we feel the need to atone for the sins of previous generations by trying to prevent all bad things happening, but a government cannot be a person. A government's exclusive purpose is to preserve itself and the people under its umbrella. Anyone outside that boundary, however desperate their situation, is simply extra.
8. Elect me as King. Seriously. You wanted change, right?
9. Understand that disagreeing does not mean partisan politics, it means disagreeing. When normal people don't see eye-to-eye, it sends them back to the negotiating table to try and find some middle-ground. When politicians don't see eye-to-eye they dig in their heels and scream "partisanship!" I hate politics. I hate politicians. The root of all evil on the planet is the politician. Disagree? Start proving me wrong.
10. Ban "reality" shows. This madness has to stop. There is no more efficient way of killing braincells than believing any of that is real. I wish I was kidding.
11. Last, but certainly not least, GET OVER YOURSELVES! "We're the best country on the planet," "We have the best form of government," "Capitalism is better than everything else," any of these sound familiar? I'm not gonna be the one to say any of these are wrong, but there is no place for such statements in rational conversation. "Best" is not a real measurement and, thus, can't be used as an accurate point of comparison. There's also a lot of bias because, y'know, we live here. Plenty of other countries get along just fine. Maybe it's ignorance on their part, but it's arrogance on ours. Which is worse?
I still have my hope, but it's a fragile light right now.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Think "Big Picture"
I hated Valentine's Day. I've always hated Valentine's Day. In elementary school, there was so much pressure to choose the "right" kind of Valentine. Were the X-Men still cool enough? Were they cool enough that I wouldn't get laughed at? What if someone else got the same package? That could be embarrassing. I had to give one to everyone too...even the people I didn't like. Sometimes people would give out candy and be liked for it, sometimes they had the misfortune of choosing the wrong sort. These are crippling decisions for a third-grader. Mom would usually end up getting frustrated and choose for me and, of course, none of my concerns were ever confirmed, but I couldn't escape playing the "what if" game. I hated Valentine's Day.
By middle school, Valentine's Day became more exclusive; such cards were only exchanged among friends and couples. I had rather few of the former and none of the latter. It was somewhere in here that Valentine's Day started to become something else: Singles' Awareness Day. I was thrilled to have escaped the pressure of choosing valentines to be distributed to my classmates, but I always sorta wished I got more. I hated Valentine's Day.
High school. Oh, high school. A lot of the people I know think back on their high school years with a those-were-the-days sort of nostalgia. It's a pretty resounding 'meh' in my memory. Some good things, some bad, a lot of lukewarm feelings. I escaped the first two years' Valentine's through a combination of homework and not caring. The "holiday" came and went all but unnoticed. At some point though, I got a girlfriend, and did she turn out to be a doozy! We started dating right around Valentine's Day, which also happened to be right around her birthday, and she'd had a crush on me for some time. I got lots of romantic bonus points for that...not that I had any idea at the time. For a while, I almost cared about the day; I would be able to combine holidays! What guy doesn't want that? Then we broke up. Badly. Whether through maturity or some other mechanism, I'd moved beyond hating Valentine's toward just not caring. I didn't care about Valentine's Day.
College was a fair bit of the same. I spent most of my time working, pretending to work, and playing games (in reverse order). The day came and went nearly without notice. I only knew because my roomie had a girlfriend and he knew better than to forget. Four whole years passed, and I still didn't care about Valentine's Day.
At last, real life...is pretty much more of the same. I get to see my friends more often. I'm still single, unemployed as of this writing, and I'm at my computer at 4am writing about Valentine's Day. I still think Valentine's Day is another manufactured, girl-centric holiday almost wholly designed to make the male halves of relationships worry about gifts or be lured into traps. There's a devious undercurrent to the whole thing that bothers me. Nonetheless, I think I'm starting to understand the hubbub.
I started off thinking about Valentine's Day as an extension of the ongoing school popularity contests to which I never learned the rules. After that, it was a reminder that others had something I could only just understand, much less obtain. Then, it just sort of stopped mattering for a while. It fell from the general consciousness and was taken care of more privately. And now, with some perspective and, I like to think, a bit of maturity, I see this in a different light. Valentine's Day, like most other holidays, is a day to reflect on relationships of any sort. Sure, a lot of the commercial emphasis is on romantic connections, but there's more to it. This is a day to dedicate to your most important connections.
Come what may, we'll always have friends and family. Keep them close.
By middle school, Valentine's Day became more exclusive; such cards were only exchanged among friends and couples. I had rather few of the former and none of the latter. It was somewhere in here that Valentine's Day started to become something else: Singles' Awareness Day. I was thrilled to have escaped the pressure of choosing valentines to be distributed to my classmates, but I always sorta wished I got more. I hated Valentine's Day.
High school. Oh, high school. A lot of the people I know think back on their high school years with a those-were-the-days sort of nostalgia. It's a pretty resounding 'meh' in my memory. Some good things, some bad, a lot of lukewarm feelings. I escaped the first two years' Valentine's through a combination of homework and not caring. The "holiday" came and went all but unnoticed. At some point though, I got a girlfriend, and did she turn out to be a doozy! We started dating right around Valentine's Day, which also happened to be right around her birthday, and she'd had a crush on me for some time. I got lots of romantic bonus points for that...not that I had any idea at the time. For a while, I almost cared about the day; I would be able to combine holidays! What guy doesn't want that? Then we broke up. Badly. Whether through maturity or some other mechanism, I'd moved beyond hating Valentine's toward just not caring. I didn't care about Valentine's Day.
College was a fair bit of the same. I spent most of my time working, pretending to work, and playing games (in reverse order). The day came and went nearly without notice. I only knew because my roomie had a girlfriend and he knew better than to forget. Four whole years passed, and I still didn't care about Valentine's Day.
At last, real life...is pretty much more of the same. I get to see my friends more often. I'm still single, unemployed as of this writing, and I'm at my computer at 4am writing about Valentine's Day. I still think Valentine's Day is another manufactured, girl-centric holiday almost wholly designed to make the male halves of relationships worry about gifts or be lured into traps. There's a devious undercurrent to the whole thing that bothers me. Nonetheless, I think I'm starting to understand the hubbub.
I started off thinking about Valentine's Day as an extension of the ongoing school popularity contests to which I never learned the rules. After that, it was a reminder that others had something I could only just understand, much less obtain. Then, it just sort of stopped mattering for a while. It fell from the general consciousness and was taken care of more privately. And now, with some perspective and, I like to think, a bit of maturity, I see this in a different light. Valentine's Day, like most other holidays, is a day to reflect on relationships of any sort. Sure, a lot of the commercial emphasis is on romantic connections, but there's more to it. This is a day to dedicate to your most important connections.
Come what may, we'll always have friends and family. Keep them close.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Curse Your Sudden But Inevitable Betrayal
I know, two posts in the same day. Does that seem right to you? I want to speak (maybe briefly) on my very favorite television show ever: Firefly. It's a damn crime that this show was canceled so early. In case you don't know (even though you should) Firefly is a sort of sci-fi spaghetti western with a dash of bluegrass music. It's an odd crossroads, but it is a fabulous idea that benefits from terrific writing, a deep story, dynamic characters, and amazing actors. Indeed, it's virtually everything one doesn't find in science fiction television...and everything I love.
Firefly has a rabid fanbase into which, I confess, I was rather late being inducted. The series has the dubious distinction as the only canceled TV show resurrected into a full-fledged Hollywood movie. The fans, Browncoats, they call themselves, accomplished this through an obsessive resolve that could rattle even the most determined Klingon wannabe.
I knew of the show for some time before I actually saw it. By the time my interest was really piqued, the show was gone. Ye olde Internet gave me my first taste and there was no turning back. There is genius at the core of Firefly; it's not necessarily a person. This is one of those exceedingly rare times that I believe the product is truly greater than the sum of its parts. Some of it comes from the passion that all those involved clearly poured into the camera. Some of it comes from the fans. Some of it comes from Fox's odd decision to drop it. Beyond all of that though, is the sense that simply by viewing these episodes, I have been a part of something special, something unique, something gone.
The opening song speaks volumes and, if one wishes it to be, seems almost prophetic:
Take my love, take my land
Take me where I cannot stand
I don't care, I'm still free
You can't take the sky from me
Take me out to the black
Tell them I ain't coming back
Burn the land and boil the sea
You can't take the sky from me
There's no place I can be
Since I found Serenity
But you can't take the sky from me...
I've watched the series from beginning to end no fewer than four times. I've watched my favorite episodes probably an additional three or four times. I've seen the movie, Serenity, three times as of this writing. Without exception, I love it more with each sit-through.
If we recall back to my opinion of Wall-E, I gave an emphatic "Go see it!" at the post's conclusion. It is at least equally imperative that everyone see Firefly and Serenity, probably more so, but the feeling is different somehow. Where Wall-E was fun, Firefly is seminal. It is the standard against which all future television, regardless of genre, should be held to. Where Wall-E is a great movie for the family, Firefly is but the tip of an iceberg composed of Awesome.
Don't watch Firefly because of my endorsement. Don't watch it to bow to geek pressure. Don't even watch it to support those involved. Watch Firefly because you do yourself a disservice through ignorance.
Firefly has a rabid fanbase into which, I confess, I was rather late being inducted. The series has the dubious distinction as the only canceled TV show resurrected into a full-fledged Hollywood movie. The fans, Browncoats, they call themselves, accomplished this through an obsessive resolve that could rattle even the most determined Klingon wannabe.
I knew of the show for some time before I actually saw it. By the time my interest was really piqued, the show was gone. Ye olde Internet gave me my first taste and there was no turning back. There is genius at the core of Firefly; it's not necessarily a person. This is one of those exceedingly rare times that I believe the product is truly greater than the sum of its parts. Some of it comes from the passion that all those involved clearly poured into the camera. Some of it comes from the fans. Some of it comes from Fox's odd decision to drop it. Beyond all of that though, is the sense that simply by viewing these episodes, I have been a part of something special, something unique, something gone.
The opening song speaks volumes and, if one wishes it to be, seems almost prophetic:
Take my love, take my land
Take me where I cannot stand
I don't care, I'm still free
You can't take the sky from me
Take me out to the black
Tell them I ain't coming back
Burn the land and boil the sea
You can't take the sky from me
There's no place I can be
Since I found Serenity
But you can't take the sky from me...
I've watched the series from beginning to end no fewer than four times. I've watched my favorite episodes probably an additional three or four times. I've seen the movie, Serenity, three times as of this writing. Without exception, I love it more with each sit-through.
If we recall back to my opinion of Wall-E, I gave an emphatic "Go see it!" at the post's conclusion. It is at least equally imperative that everyone see Firefly and Serenity, probably more so, but the feeling is different somehow. Where Wall-E was fun, Firefly is seminal. It is the standard against which all future television, regardless of genre, should be held to. Where Wall-E is a great movie for the family, Firefly is but the tip of an iceberg composed of Awesome.
Don't watch Firefly because of my endorsement. Don't watch it to bow to geek pressure. Don't even watch it to support those involved. Watch Firefly because you do yourself a disservice through ignorance.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)