I've seen many talented people in different fields slaving away at their art, only to grow bitter because it is not recognized. They grow to hate something they used to love to do - not because they were bad! But because they resent their art for not making them a living. For not garnering them success, or notice.
Worse, they grow to hate others in their chosen field for getting notice. "Why them and not me?" I've seen people who loved music so much they wanted to do it for life grow to hate music, and no longer want to make or hear any new music. And for "music" substitute "art." Or writing. Or acting. Or anything.
It's tragic - not just their pain, but the loss of their voice as an artist. I can't understand. I love music so much I want to do it for my whole life - I've got that. No one can take it from me. No one has to buy. No one has to pay me, so I'm not at the world's mercy. Or take poetry. I'm reasonably convinced that poems do not, can not get one noticed outside a very small circle of unusual people. So I've written at least 365 poems every calendar year since 2009 - for no reason? No, I write them because it is joy to be able to create even one thing one loves. Songs are my main love, as a writer. I write the song for the song, and for no other reason. I write a song to get the song - to get a song I love! To get a song I want to have.
What do people want to get out of creating art? If it isn't the piece of art itself, the creation - if that's not what you want to get out of the act of creation, aren't you in it for the wrong reasons? Isn't your heart in the wrong place, and don't you deserve to fail?
If you love creating something, you stick with it. You have nothing to prove by sticking with it. Quitting is fine, if you're not into it. Quitting over these other reasons (success? getting paid?), just means you weren't into the thing itself. If you love creating something, you do stick with it. Fuck the world, the audience, fuck who's buying. Who cares? Art is just practice. You do it because you love the act.
If it's something you like to do, you keep creating. Create a body of work. Put it someplace visible, sure! Why not? You're not afraid of people seeing it. But don't worry about people seeing it. Give them a chance to, if you like, but don't care who is or isn't seeing your work. Your work is not what you're working on, it's just a by-product. The real thing you are working on is what's wholly yours: a mastery. Your ability, your technique, your practice. A voice of your own as an artist.
And sure, a shit ton of works as well! Some good, some great, some just okay - works that you've strewn in your wake, as you create. Those are neat to look back upon, to see how far you've come, and maybe have a laugh over. But your past works are not a thing you should enslave yourself to, to sell them to the world.
Your art is yours. Don't let anybody else make you do it. Don't let anyone else tell you what it's worth.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
in failing confidence, i resort to overt trash-talking and worse, to all-caps - the bad-manners internet equivalent to "shouting"
WHO THINKS YOU CAN BEAT MY HOUSE!! THOSE GOD-DAMN IMBECILES ARE GOING TO RUN ROUGHSHOD OVER ALL OF YOU AND I'M THE BIGGEST ONE IN THE BUNCH!!!! IT'S LIKE A BANANA OR SOMETHING - THERE'S ALWAYS ONE FREAKY ONE WHOSE ALL WEIRD HOW HE BENDS, AND SLIGHTLY LARGER! WELL GUESS WHAT PEOPLE - I JUST CRACKED THE STEM AND I'M A-PEELIN'! YOU BETTER NOT WAIT AROUND TO SEE WHAT THE UH...THE BANANA IS...
...AWWW MAN IT'S ALL ROTTEN ON THE INSIDE.
THAT'S RIGHT! I'M ROTTEN TO THE CORE! THIS BANANA'S GOT A CORE SO BLACK AND SQUISHY YOU DON'T EVEN WANT TO SALVAGE IT, THROW IT IN A BLENDER WITH THE OTHER BAD BANANAS AND SOME WHOLE MILK, AND VANILLA EXTRACT LIKE MOM USED TO, WHEN IT WAS "BANANAS GONE BAD!" WELL HELL NO THIS BANANA (THE BANANA IS WHAT REPRESENTS ME, IN THIS RANT) IS WAY TOO BAD EVEN FOR THAT PURPOSE! WHY, YOU DRINK IN THAT THICK, FROTHY SHAKE AND YOU'LL TURN SICK COLORS IN A SECOND! I'M AFTER YOU, YOU ILL-ADVISED OTHERS! I'M COMING AFTER YOU LIKE A BAD CASE OF GARBAGE! I GOT A CASE OF THE TRASH AND I'MA PUT IT ON YOU! I GOT LIKE A BIG CASE OF IT, NO BAG NO LINER - JUST UPENDED THAT BIG OL' GARBAGE CASE ALL OVER YOUR HEAD AND CLEAN SHIRT, LIKE A BULLY IN JUNIOR MIDDLE SCHOOL TURNING YOU INTO A BIG DISPLAY OF HUMILIATION, BEFORE ESCORTING YOU TO THE TOILET BOWL WITH A BIG THING OF JOHNSON & JOHNSON'S "NO MORE TEARS" (THAT FUCKING IRONIC BASTARD!!!!) TO GIVE YOU A NICE "IN-LOO SHAMPOO"!! YOU GOD DAMN RIGHT I DID! WHOSE NEXT? WHOSE NEXT?
YEAAAAAHHH
COME ON
...AWWW MAN IT'S ALL ROTTEN ON THE INSIDE.
THAT'S RIGHT! I'M ROTTEN TO THE CORE! THIS BANANA'S GOT A CORE SO BLACK AND SQUISHY YOU DON'T EVEN WANT TO SALVAGE IT, THROW IT IN A BLENDER WITH THE OTHER BAD BANANAS AND SOME WHOLE MILK, AND VANILLA EXTRACT LIKE MOM USED TO, WHEN IT WAS "BANANAS GONE BAD!" WELL HELL NO THIS BANANA (THE BANANA IS WHAT REPRESENTS ME, IN THIS RANT) IS WAY TOO BAD EVEN FOR THAT PURPOSE! WHY, YOU DRINK IN THAT THICK, FROTHY SHAKE AND YOU'LL TURN SICK COLORS IN A SECOND! I'M AFTER YOU, YOU ILL-ADVISED OTHERS! I'M COMING AFTER YOU LIKE A BAD CASE OF GARBAGE! I GOT A CASE OF THE TRASH AND I'MA PUT IT ON YOU! I GOT LIKE A BIG CASE OF IT, NO BAG NO LINER - JUST UPENDED THAT BIG OL' GARBAGE CASE ALL OVER YOUR HEAD AND CLEAN SHIRT, LIKE A BULLY IN JUNIOR MIDDLE SCHOOL TURNING YOU INTO A BIG DISPLAY OF HUMILIATION, BEFORE ESCORTING YOU TO THE TOILET BOWL WITH A BIG THING OF JOHNSON & JOHNSON'S "NO MORE TEARS" (THAT FUCKING IRONIC BASTARD!!!!) TO GIVE YOU A NICE "IN-LOO SHAMPOO"!! YOU GOD DAMN RIGHT I DID! WHOSE NEXT? WHOSE NEXT?
YEAAAAAHHH
COME ON
Sunday, May 12, 2013
I just want to say I don't think happiness is important.
I don't understand a view of happiness that sees happiness as the natural state of things, and then when it's interrupted by something bad, people are like "OH!! MY HAPPINESS!" - like that's what's bad! Like the bad thing about the bad thing is that it took our happiness.
The bad thing's bad because it SUCKED - who cares about happiness when there is something bad to deal with??
OK, I realize that tons of people do. I'm confessing a weird thing here, maybe. I don't care about happiness. Happiness is not important. Finding a way (finding many ways) to meet reality and deal with bad shit is important. That bad shit is going to keep happening forever, and the bad shit is going to keep ruining your day and parts of your life, but - once you come up with the best ways you can, to deal with it the best way it can be dealt with - you can stop dwelling on it. Further worry won't help. At that point you can take what comes.
The best way it can be dealt with may not be all that awesome, but the best you can do is best you can do. You look out for better ways as you go, but until those come along there aren't better methods than the best you can do, to deal with the bad.
Happiness is not important. When happiness happens, it happens naturally (in-between crises, anyway) once you've taken care of what's important. Even in terms of good things, you can't find happiness by seeking it! Only by seeking for what's more important. When you GET what's important - someone you love surprises you with love, or you overjoy someone you love! Or you overcome obstacles to secure a real home for you and all of yours, or you find and excel in a JOB in a company you LOVE in an industry that matters to you, or you work hard for a cause in your community, and that cause triumphs! - people who think happiness is important, generally it's these other things that are important to you. Seek them, feed them!
Don't care about your happiness. Your happiness trails after you, insatiable, a child with a chocolate-smeared face awaiting the next treat.
I don't understand a view of happiness that sees happiness as the natural state of things, and then when it's interrupted by something bad, people are like "OH!! MY HAPPINESS!" - like that's what's bad! Like the bad thing about the bad thing is that it took our happiness.
The bad thing's bad because it SUCKED - who cares about happiness when there is something bad to deal with??
OK, I realize that tons of people do. I'm confessing a weird thing here, maybe. I don't care about happiness. Happiness is not important. Finding a way (finding many ways) to meet reality and deal with bad shit is important. That bad shit is going to keep happening forever, and the bad shit is going to keep ruining your day and parts of your life, but - once you come up with the best ways you can, to deal with it the best way it can be dealt with - you can stop dwelling on it. Further worry won't help. At that point you can take what comes.
The best way it can be dealt with may not be all that awesome, but the best you can do is best you can do. You look out for better ways as you go, but until those come along there aren't better methods than the best you can do, to deal with the bad.
Happiness is not important. When happiness happens, it happens naturally (in-between crises, anyway) once you've taken care of what's important. Even in terms of good things, you can't find happiness by seeking it! Only by seeking for what's more important. When you GET what's important - someone you love surprises you with love, or you overjoy someone you love! Or you overcome obstacles to secure a real home for you and all of yours, or you find and excel in a JOB in a company you LOVE in an industry that matters to you, or you work hard for a cause in your community, and that cause triumphs! - people who think happiness is important, generally it's these other things that are important to you. Seek them, feed them!
Don't care about your happiness. Your happiness trails after you, insatiable, a child with a chocolate-smeared face awaiting the next treat.
Friday, May 10, 2013
I Worry About You!
Paranoia on behalf of another is a disreputable, indefensible sort of neurosis - even paranoia on behalf of one one loves. But I can't help it. I worry. I worry about you. Irrationally, I worry.
I worry about you. I do not worry for you.
Everyone seems to find me an invincible pollyanna optimist, but maybe that's just because every night, I lie awake running through and living in every worst-case scenario that raises its spectre'd mein - for as long as it takes to exhaust its spectral dangers, and only then do I sleep? This tends to cure me.
But my worries are my own, though. As are yours, surely! Do you worry for me?
No one worries for another's sake. It is to grapple with our own horrors, and find ways to best them - if only in imagination - that a worrier worries. In our own horrors, circumstances of cared-for others may loom large, but still it is not for their sake we worry, but for our own. How can our worrying help another?
And telling another of our worry for them - this is pure selfishness, and detestable.
So I apologize!
I worry about you. I do not worry for you.
Everyone seems to find me an invincible pollyanna optimist, but maybe that's just because every night, I lie awake running through and living in every worst-case scenario that raises its spectre'd mein - for as long as it takes to exhaust its spectral dangers, and only then do I sleep? This tends to cure me.
But my worries are my own, though. As are yours, surely! Do you worry for me?
No one worries for another's sake. It is to grapple with our own horrors, and find ways to best them - if only in imagination - that a worrier worries. In our own horrors, circumstances of cared-for others may loom large, but still it is not for their sake we worry, but for our own. How can our worrying help another?
And telling another of our worry for them - this is pure selfishness, and detestable.
So I apologize!
Thursday, May 09, 2013
How to Tell If I Thought You Were Serious
1. You say something.
2. Are you serious? I don't know!
3. I respond with the perfectly serious response.
But really, it didn't matter.
Did it?
2. Are you serious? I don't know!
3. I respond with the perfectly serious response.
3A. If you were serious, I gave the perfectly serious response. My sincerity is always evident, and frequently devastating.4. Now you're like, "is this guy serious?"
3B. If you were joking - I gave the perfectly serious response! My bone-literal straight-man remarks generously provide you the platform, for you to keep going, build the joke with me, until it could actually start to be funny!
But really, it didn't matter.
Did it?
Do NOT "Assume."
Do NOT "assume."
Why?
It's an ASSHOLE move, dude! You go around assuming, telling people you assume this, assume that - you will be caught out cold! Sooner or later, some wag or dirty dog is going to come along and call your number on that "assume" biz. Don't do it; not worth it! It isn't worth the risk.
Presume or suppose, instead. They'll never catch you out that way! Better yet, suspect.
What are they going to do in that case? If all you did was "suspect"! What's their recourse? To prove your suspicions wrong - to restore your faith in humanity? "Oh, I suspected, but I was wrong! Whew, glad!" Fuck!
You pretty much pulled the trump card, there - as you can see. As opposed to the fool who assumes - he pretty much opens himself up to all sorts of little snitty little comebacks, on that basis.
Give them no such openings. None of this "I assumed so." Go strong. No need to go so easy on people who are only waiting to nail you for your misstatement with a clever rejoinder to make YOU look like the dork. SCREW "I assumed so."
"I suspected as much."
Yeah.
Why?
It's an ASSHOLE move, dude! You go around assuming, telling people you assume this, assume that - you will be caught out cold! Sooner or later, some wag or dirty dog is going to come along and call your number on that "assume" biz. Don't do it; not worth it! It isn't worth the risk.
Presume or suppose, instead. They'll never catch you out that way! Better yet, suspect.
What are they going to do in that case? If all you did was "suspect"! What's their recourse? To prove your suspicions wrong - to restore your faith in humanity? "Oh, I suspected, but I was wrong! Whew, glad!" Fuck!
You pretty much pulled the trump card, there - as you can see. As opposed to the fool who assumes - he pretty much opens himself up to all sorts of little snitty little comebacks, on that basis.
Give them no such openings. None of this "I assumed so." Go strong. No need to go so easy on people who are only waiting to nail you for your misstatement with a clever rejoinder to make YOU look like the dork. SCREW "I assumed so."
"I suspected as much."
Yeah.
Wednesday, May 08, 2013
Your Beloved Old Saying Is Just Plain Wrong #1: The Watched Pot
"A watched pot never boils?"
Wrong. When the fucking sun's surface balloons out past the orbit of Venus, it won't matter who's watching. Not only that pot's contents, but possibly even the pot itself will boil off, depending on what material it's made from! And when that happens, don't expect it to hang around to call the kettle black, either. Watched or not, every pot boils.
Stop taking received wisdom uncritically for granted. Learn science.
Your beloved old saying is just plain wrong.
Wrong. When the fucking sun's surface balloons out past the orbit of Venus, it won't matter who's watching. Not only that pot's contents, but possibly even the pot itself will boil off, depending on what material it's made from! And when that happens, don't expect it to hang around to call the kettle black, either. Watched or not, every pot boils.
Stop taking received wisdom uncritically for granted. Learn science.
Your beloved old saying is just plain wrong.
Tuesday, May 07, 2013
On Waitresses.
Whenever someone talks about tipping the waitress or the waiter, I always picture running up to them in a field and pushing them over. Now, I'm not sure why this is the dominant image. I've never once in my life tipped any form of livestock! People who tip cows should be forced to tip bulls instead, if you ask me. Jerks!
I love the word "waitresses." I just love that word itself! Waitresses. It's such a good word. The plural is so euphonious! Waitresses. Also, it's a fantasy of mine to have more than one waitress. At the same time, I mean! Not one of those deals where one leaves and another takes over. That seems so impersonal by comparison.
I mean, I guess it's okay if there's a dude in the mix too. A waiter. I suppose that's still a luxurious amount of pampering, service-wise. But a pity, too, because then I won't be able to use the plural! That oh-so-euphonious plural. Waitresses.
The words you use to describe it can be such an important part of your life experience. "Servers" is also a fine word! A solid, unisex term: servers. I often mentally apply the term to cops. Servers, and protectors. Unlike the more one-dimensional service you get from your waiters and waitresses!
Hot tip: do not attempt to tip your cop. Not under any circumstances is that going to work out well. I hear that in Mexico it's OK! But if so, that's totally out of my experience - different culture. As a rule, "When in Rome" applies.
I love the word "waitresses." I just love that word itself! Waitresses. It's such a good word. The plural is so euphonious! Waitresses. Also, it's a fantasy of mine to have more than one waitress. At the same time, I mean! Not one of those deals where one leaves and another takes over. That seems so impersonal by comparison.
I mean, I guess it's okay if there's a dude in the mix too. A waiter. I suppose that's still a luxurious amount of pampering, service-wise. But a pity, too, because then I won't be able to use the plural! That oh-so-euphonious plural. Waitresses.
The words you use to describe it can be such an important part of your life experience. "Servers" is also a fine word! A solid, unisex term: servers. I often mentally apply the term to cops. Servers, and protectors. Unlike the more one-dimensional service you get from your waiters and waitresses!
Hot tip: do not attempt to tip your cop. Not under any circumstances is that going to work out well. I hear that in Mexico it's OK! But if so, that's totally out of my experience - different culture. As a rule, "When in Rome" applies.
Focus For Your Health: On Vegetables!
Too many people have been talking shit about vegetables and here I am to say, "Holy FUCK. Vegetables have been around FOREVER, people and you need to GET OVER IT or GET USED TO IT.
Many vegetables were on the scene as just regular plants! Originally, and people tried to eat them and DIED - except no, those were not vegetables, because they weren't edible yet. Eventually evolution happened, result: VEGETABLES. Vegetables and the populations that eat upon them have evolved IN TANDEM: can't have one without the other! Can't have a meat eater without some meat, and an herbivore needs FODDER to fatten up on for that to happen, ergo: VEGETABLES, including hay if you're a horse. OF COURSE HAY IS A VEGETABLE! Not for humans, maybe, but it's a fucking edible masterpiece for big mister four-hooves horsebelly! Those horses' bellies are specially adapted for the purpose, Holmes, and if you think otherwise you better not go into the horse business that's all I can say. Because you will be out of pocket on oats.
Vegetables are pretty much what I suggest criminals should be eating in prison. Why do they get meat? There's no religious reason! I feel like it should be a healthy punishment for them, to eat only vegetables and it would simplify things for the chefs, who could go to town on creative and delicious vegetarian choices, meanwhile, the warden sits in his privileged tower eating a STEAK DINNER, laughing at the cons and their healthy repast as he slowly clogs his own arteries. The price of freedom is eating whatever you want, folks - without a little restraint, let's face it, you probably will die. Have you noticed the common thread, here? VEGETABLES."
A lot of folks try to make a controversy out of it. They repeat the old saws, the old wives rumors and legendary urban tales: "Vegetables are for FOOLS," or "Oblong vegetables are sometimes inserted into the anus or vagine for sexual pleasure purposes!" I say that's DISGUSTING!! Why even bring that up? But it raises some good points: always wash your vegetables - and don't be a FOOL.
Many vegetables were on the scene as just regular plants! Originally, and people tried to eat them and DIED - except no, those were not vegetables, because they weren't edible yet. Eventually evolution happened, result: VEGETABLES. Vegetables and the populations that eat upon them have evolved IN TANDEM: can't have one without the other! Can't have a meat eater without some meat, and an herbivore needs FODDER to fatten up on for that to happen, ergo: VEGETABLES, including hay if you're a horse. OF COURSE HAY IS A VEGETABLE! Not for humans, maybe, but it's a fucking edible masterpiece for big mister four-hooves horsebelly! Those horses' bellies are specially adapted for the purpose, Holmes, and if you think otherwise you better not go into the horse business that's all I can say. Because you will be out of pocket on oats.
Vegetables are pretty much what I suggest criminals should be eating in prison. Why do they get meat? There's no religious reason! I feel like it should be a healthy punishment for them, to eat only vegetables and it would simplify things for the chefs, who could go to town on creative and delicious vegetarian choices, meanwhile, the warden sits in his privileged tower eating a STEAK DINNER, laughing at the cons and their healthy repast as he slowly clogs his own arteries. The price of freedom is eating whatever you want, folks - without a little restraint, let's face it, you probably will die. Have you noticed the common thread, here? VEGETABLES."
A lot of folks try to make a controversy out of it. They repeat the old saws, the old wives rumors and legendary urban tales: "Vegetables are for FOOLS," or "Oblong vegetables are sometimes inserted into the anus or vagine for sexual pleasure purposes!" I say that's DISGUSTING!! Why even bring that up? But it raises some good points: always wash your vegetables - and don't be a FOOL.
Ever Hurt Your Own Feelings?
Anyone here ever hurt your own feelings? I did! Just the other day. I can't really talk about it, it's still kind of tender, I'm still not sure exactly what I really meant by it and the last thing I want to do is open THAT can of worms again.
Monday, May 06, 2013
Good Thoughts, Good Thoughts
So I've been thinking good thoughts lately. Without even trying!
I don't mean "good" as in "high-quality." These aren't supersmart, heavily-intellectual thoughts by any means. Nor would such a thing impress me. No, these thoughts are more "good thoughts" as in, thoughts that sort of just seem in the best interest of humanity. In everyone's best interest! "For the greater good." Thoughts like that, where if anyone else or indeed, if everyone else had that same thought, they might immediately say "Right on, brother!"
Except, to whom would they be saying "Right on, brother!"? It wouldn't be to me! In the scenario, these thoughts are occurring to each person, individually, as if they simply came up with it on their own. So then to suddenly come out loud in response - "Right on, brother!" - to one's own thought? Some might find this troubling.
These sorts of implications and complications are part of why many people have grave concerns over so-called "group-think," - and I for one couldn't agree more.
I don't mean "good" as in "high-quality." These aren't supersmart, heavily-intellectual thoughts by any means. Nor would such a thing impress me. No, these thoughts are more "good thoughts" as in, thoughts that sort of just seem in the best interest of humanity. In everyone's best interest! "For the greater good." Thoughts like that, where if anyone else or indeed, if everyone else had that same thought, they might immediately say "Right on, brother!"
Except, to whom would they be saying "Right on, brother!"? It wouldn't be to me! In the scenario, these thoughts are occurring to each person, individually, as if they simply came up with it on their own. So then to suddenly come out loud in response - "Right on, brother!" - to one's own thought? Some might find this troubling.
These sorts of implications and complications are part of why many people have grave concerns over so-called "group-think," - and I for one couldn't agree more.
OMG NEW PSB Pt. 2: AN APOLOGY!
This is a Pt. 2 - there was also a Part 1!
My bad on a comment submission. I posted the Pt.1 of "OMG NEW PSB" on September 22, 2012. Today I got 3 comments in a row from a reader named
iCraps!!! now!!! TINNER!!! (zzzz)
That name again is:
iCraps!!! now!!! TINNER!!! (zzzz)
Commenter, first - can I just say your name is a delight? Unfortunately, with the "craps" reference, plus the sudden deluge of comments, plus - not trying to be unkind, here, but your spelling and grammar as well - I'm sorry to say, I took you to be a spammer. I deleted the comments. Whoops. When I checked afterwards, your profile shows you started in May 2013 with exactly 1 profile view (mine?). I feel especially bad if you started your profile up just to chime in with your thoughts on the Pet Shop Boys!
So to make up for it, I'm posting all your deleted comments right here, as a separate post in their own right. Thoughtful of me!
This was the text of comment one:
This was the text of comment two:
So there's that. All three comments, original and unedited - thanks to the email of the comment, which was retained! Once again technology saves the day, and in doing so, proves it is A-OK.
So, iCraps!!! now!!! TINNER!!! (zzzz), in response to your remarks, some comments, some question:
1. Thanks for explaining the impact of cultural/commercial relevance on how much publicity a new album receives upon release! You seem confused as to when PSB stopped being relevant: in the '80s or in the '90s. It was in the '80s!
2. You make repeated reference to PSB's fans now being comprised of "elderly men" whose numbers you put variously at "a hundred" or "a couple hundred." I checked the last album's sales in its first week, and for accuracy's sake, you should probably say "at least ten thousand elderly men in the UK alone," and to err on the side of accuracy, probably we're talking "elderly gay men." But that's a minor quibble! A few thousand elderly men (of any sexual orientation!) are insignificant in terms of determining what's relevant in our culture, unless you believe in the illuminati of course.
3. Say, what's your take on Beethoven?
That's about it. #3 is kind of a stretcher as far as relevance goes. But to be fair, you didn't give me much to work with!
My bad on a comment submission. I posted the Pt.1 of "OMG NEW PSB" on September 22, 2012. Today I got 3 comments in a row from a reader named
iCraps!!! now!!! TINNER!!! (zzzz)
That name again is:
iCraps!!! now!!! TINNER!!! (zzzz)
Commenter, first - can I just say your name is a delight? Unfortunately, with the "craps" reference, plus the sudden deluge of comments, plus - not trying to be unkind, here, but your spelling and grammar as well - I'm sorry to say, I took you to be a spammer. I deleted the comments. Whoops. When I checked afterwards, your profile shows you started in May 2013 with exactly 1 profile view (mine?). I feel especially bad if you started your profile up just to chime in with your thoughts on the Pet Shop Boys!
So to make up for it, I'm posting all your deleted comments right here, as a separate post in their own right. Thoughtful of me!
This was the text of comment one:
"WHY NO ONE TELL ME" because groups that make practicality the same dated style of production in all there music since there commercial/cultural irrelevancy over 6 years ago now.With every successive album release they bleed more and more fans, there presence in the Media and Radioplay becomes non existent to the point the most recent single release strugled to get anywhere near the top 100 ! Obviously no-ones interested in PSB's endless tired + turgid releases by now, long past there sell by date by now apart from a couple of hundred elderly men still living in the 80s culture + biased against modern technologies.Mainstream culture believes PSB stopped making music in the 90s (which they probably should have if they wanted to maintain the credibility they'd built up). Thus PSB have no presence in mainstream culture (given there long term lack of significant success - no surprise) everyone thinks they're unnoticed + buried with such pointless lack of success no one knows of PSBon OMG NEW PSB
iCraps!!! now!!! TINNER!!! (zzzz)
at 6:21 PM
This was the text of comment two:
No one told U because PSB is stuck in making record that sounded stale in 1990s never mind NOW. Being trapped in your 90s decade bubble when PSB where known, remembered by people in mainstream culture.. but for the rest of us PSB commercial success ended 6 years ago + they may as well have split up since know one remembers them accept for a hundred elderly men stuck in the 90s decade insanely biased against change like modern technologies on OMG NEW PSBThis was the text of comment three:
iCraps!!! now!!! TINNER!!! (zzzz)
at 6:37 PM
No one told U because PSB is stuck in making record that sounded stale in 1990s never mind NOW. Being trapped in your 90s decade bubble when PSB where known, remembered by people in mainstream culture.. but for the rest of us PSB commercial success ended 6 years ago + they may as well have split up since know one remembers them accept for a hundred elderly trapped in their 90's bubble where they are strongly biased by any new change or advancement. on OMG NEW PSB
iCraps!!! now!!! TINNER!!! (zzzz)
at 6:43 PM
So there's that. All three comments, original and unedited - thanks to the email of the comment, which was retained! Once again technology saves the day, and in doing so, proves it is A-OK.
So, iCraps!!! now!!! TINNER!!! (zzzz), in response to your remarks, some comments, some question:
1. Thanks for explaining the impact of cultural/commercial relevance on how much publicity a new album receives upon release! You seem confused as to when PSB stopped being relevant: in the '80s or in the '90s. It was in the '80s!
2. You make repeated reference to PSB's fans now being comprised of "elderly men" whose numbers you put variously at "a hundred" or "a couple hundred." I checked the last album's sales in its first week, and for accuracy's sake, you should probably say "at least ten thousand elderly men in the UK alone," and to err on the side of accuracy, probably we're talking "elderly gay men." But that's a minor quibble! A few thousand elderly men (of any sexual orientation!) are insignificant in terms of determining what's relevant in our culture, unless you believe in the illuminati of course.
3. Say, what's your take on Beethoven?
That's about it. #3 is kind of a stretcher as far as relevance goes. But to be fair, you didn't give me much to work with!
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Way to Start an Argument
"Of course I believe in Government! We see the roads. We see the uniformed officers. Some force, some organizing power must be responsible for these things! They could not have arisen by pure chance."
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Occasionally, a man loses track of his belt, and has to email people about it.
Is there a MAN'S BELT kicking around your house? Perhaps draped over a chair? Perhaps fallen behind something? Could it be a MAN'S BELT with a dark color strap; a squarish, gunmetal-gray buckle? Have you ever seen a MAN'S BELT in the greater living room or kitchen area since say, last Tuesday?
Have you ever threaded a MAN'S BELT through the loops of your waistband? Tighten it up, slide the buckle-peg into its snug notch, let the excess strap flap free! Did you ever take a MAN'S BELT in your hands and double it back, loop it so that your left hand held both ends with your right gripping the folded middle - then CRACK! you jerk your hands outward, snapping the belt taught?
Ah, a MAN'S BELT can be a great thing to hold your pants up, or suitable for home defense. A MAN'S BELT.
Is there one in YOUR home?
Have you ever threaded a MAN'S BELT through the loops of your waistband? Tighten it up, slide the buckle-peg into its snug notch, let the excess strap flap free! Did you ever take a MAN'S BELT in your hands and double it back, loop it so that your left hand held both ends with your right gripping the folded middle - then CRACK! you jerk your hands outward, snapping the belt taught?
Ah, a MAN'S BELT can be a great thing to hold your pants up, or suitable for home defense. A MAN'S BELT.
Is there one in YOUR home?
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Afterlife? I don't need to talk about the afterlife.
We seriously don't need to argue where or how heaven, or paradise or the eternal kingdom or whatever you wish for, whatever you wish to call it - is going to be set up.
Trust God's judgment. Trust God's competence to manage the details and aspects of the afterlife. Afterlife? I don't even need to guess about the afterlife. I am one life, eternal - not because I was worth it, or deserved it on my own merit! Heck, I didn't even deserve to be born.
God looked, and saw, and said that it was good. God sees all. God saw that you were good. Good, and worth saving. That was God's judgment on the matter, anyhow. God's judgment on humanity was Christ. Was and is - and in him, will ever be.
Christ accepted, then rebuked human judgment - accepted the sentence of death we pronounced, then swept it aside once and for all! For all who heed Christ's call to accept God's judgment - no longer stubbornly preferring our own.
It is not our choice that saves us. By God's choice, we are already saved: Christ came to save us all. But God will not force us against our will. We can always choose to prefer our own human judgment, the fruits of our knowledge of good and evil. We're allowed to reject God's judgment. We're allowed to reject Christ. Or we can accept the salvation, the good news that salvation is ours. At Christ's call, we reverse Adam's fall.
That's all pretty normal and straightforward. I don't see how arguing about shining clouds, or pearly gates, or halo frisbee golf, or alleluia choirs, or the details of wherever and however our heavenly Father shall run his house, the house he has prepared for us - who cares? Do we believe in God, but worry he might bungle these minor matters? Come on. Or the way hell is, or is run. Whatever hell is, it is founded and set in place how God saw fit. God's competent for this junk. Some of the ways I hear people talk about heaven or hell, I find upsetting. But not because I worry God might have actually set it up some crazy or unjust way. It's upsetting to me, to hear people upsetting themselves and others over stupid things. And to make a major case over aspects we can't dictate, but that God surely has covered is stupid. Arguing about the afterlife - is stupid.
I was born twice, I can die once and still come out ahead! - and alive. I was born once to nature, natural inheritor of the natural universe, inheritor of free will and the right to prefer my judgment to God's. "Cursed with original sin," they call it. Ah, children. Grow up, and accept this great gift you see all around you!
I was born a second time in Christ, even as Christ himself - already and eternally one in being with God! - was born, incarnate in human form. Taking on flesh, to wed it to the eternal. Through him, with him, and in him, by God's will, God's judgment and God's grace, I was born to eternity. What astounding news. Undeserved. I accept it gratefully.
I don't need to talk about the afterlife. There's nothing after life. I was born twice. I can die once. I don't mind the minor passages of life, which is eternal. I was born to it.
Trust God's judgment. Trust God's competence to manage the details and aspects of the afterlife. Afterlife? I don't even need to guess about the afterlife. I am one life, eternal - not because I was worth it, or deserved it on my own merit! Heck, I didn't even deserve to be born.
God looked, and saw, and said that it was good. God sees all. God saw that you were good. Good, and worth saving. That was God's judgment on the matter, anyhow. God's judgment on humanity was Christ. Was and is - and in him, will ever be.
Christ accepted, then rebuked human judgment - accepted the sentence of death we pronounced, then swept it aside once and for all! For all who heed Christ's call to accept God's judgment - no longer stubbornly preferring our own.
It is not our choice that saves us. By God's choice, we are already saved: Christ came to save us all. But God will not force us against our will. We can always choose to prefer our own human judgment, the fruits of our knowledge of good and evil. We're allowed to reject God's judgment. We're allowed to reject Christ. Or we can accept the salvation, the good news that salvation is ours. At Christ's call, we reverse Adam's fall.
That's all pretty normal and straightforward. I don't see how arguing about shining clouds, or pearly gates, or halo frisbee golf, or alleluia choirs, or the details of wherever and however our heavenly Father shall run his house, the house he has prepared for us - who cares? Do we believe in God, but worry he might bungle these minor matters? Come on. Or the way hell is, or is run. Whatever hell is, it is founded and set in place how God saw fit. God's competent for this junk. Some of the ways I hear people talk about heaven or hell, I find upsetting. But not because I worry God might have actually set it up some crazy or unjust way. It's upsetting to me, to hear people upsetting themselves and others over stupid things. And to make a major case over aspects we can't dictate, but that God surely has covered is stupid. Arguing about the afterlife - is stupid.
I was born twice, I can die once and still come out ahead! - and alive. I was born once to nature, natural inheritor of the natural universe, inheritor of free will and the right to prefer my judgment to God's. "Cursed with original sin," they call it. Ah, children. Grow up, and accept this great gift you see all around you!
I was born a second time in Christ, even as Christ himself - already and eternally one in being with God! - was born, incarnate in human form. Taking on flesh, to wed it to the eternal. Through him, with him, and in him, by God's will, God's judgment and God's grace, I was born to eternity. What astounding news. Undeserved. I accept it gratefully.
I don't need to talk about the afterlife. There's nothing after life. I was born twice. I can die once. I don't mind the minor passages of life, which is eternal. I was born to it.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
I believe in the Separation of Church and Hate.
And no, I didn't come up with that myself. But yeah, it's pretty catchy! And I believe in it. Sure.
But let's define terms, please. By "hate," I only mean the choice to have utter contempt for the ultimate worth of a living human being. I call that hate. Sure. To make the claim for Christ, "even Jesus would throw this person away." What contempt for human worth! What contempt for Christ's call. What contempt for Christ himself, who we are called to love and serve in the person of even the worst of our enemies, in the person of even the least of our fellows. Is there a worse hate than to look at a living human who you have no call to judge, and condemn that human being as worthless, as something to be utterly, permanently thrown away? Well, sure, arguably - doing that to a human being you haven't even met is worse. But either way is bad.
Yet I have Good News! For believer and nonbeliever alike!
If a Christian storms the high seat of Christ's judgment, and presumes to sit in it, to sit in judgment: to reject the possibility of Christ's mercy, and pronounce to damn a human being - any human being! No matter what they done! - good news! They do it wrongly. They pronounce judgment wrongly. A Christian has no call to do that. Doing that, they reject Christ's judgment to substitute their own. They reject the judgment of Christ.
"Reject Christ's judgment"? So are they damned? Are they therefore damned?
Well, pay attention, dipstick. I don't answer that. You don't answer that. It's Christ's call. Am I fully God and fully human as well? Christ alone is competent to answer the question of whether a person is saved or damned. Christ alone makes that call. And I tell you what: even though to reject God's judgment and prefer your own is the original sin, and still one of the worst - I won't hate that person who does. I won't have utter contempt for their ultimate worth. I won't presume to judge them damned.
Instead, I will trust in the mercy and justice of Christ's judgment, as I am called to do. Every time, in every case. Even my own.
But let's define terms, please. By "hate," I only mean the choice to have utter contempt for the ultimate worth of a living human being. I call that hate. Sure. To make the claim for Christ, "even Jesus would throw this person away." What contempt for human worth! What contempt for Christ's call. What contempt for Christ himself, who we are called to love and serve in the person of even the worst of our enemies, in the person of even the least of our fellows. Is there a worse hate than to look at a living human who you have no call to judge, and condemn that human being as worthless, as something to be utterly, permanently thrown away? Well, sure, arguably - doing that to a human being you haven't even met is worse. But either way is bad.
Yet I have Good News! For believer and nonbeliever alike!
If a Christian storms the high seat of Christ's judgment, and presumes to sit in it, to sit in judgment: to reject the possibility of Christ's mercy, and pronounce to damn a human being - any human being! No matter what they done! - good news! They do it wrongly. They pronounce judgment wrongly. A Christian has no call to do that. Doing that, they reject Christ's judgment to substitute their own. They reject the judgment of Christ.
"Reject Christ's judgment"? So are they damned? Are they therefore damned?
Well, pay attention, dipstick. I don't answer that. You don't answer that. It's Christ's call. Am I fully God and fully human as well? Christ alone is competent to answer the question of whether a person is saved or damned. Christ alone makes that call. And I tell you what: even though to reject God's judgment and prefer your own is the original sin, and still one of the worst - I won't hate that person who does. I won't have utter contempt for their ultimate worth. I won't presume to judge them damned.
Instead, I will trust in the mercy and justice of Christ's judgment, as I am called to do. Every time, in every case. Even my own.
On the new Top 9.
On the new Top 9. (sidebar, to the right)
"The Associate Editors of Merriam-Webster's 'Ask the Editor' Segment: Hot or Not?" was added in after, just now. That one was an editorial decision, I stumbled across it and could neither leave it out nor wait for the next Top 9 - ALL the others were from the Random button.
This also marks the first time the official Top 9 has had anything other than eleven (11) posts.
I hope that doesn't become a trend.
"The Associate Editors of Merriam-Webster's 'Ask the Editor' Segment: Hot or Not?" was added in after, just now. That one was an editorial decision, I stumbled across it and could neither leave it out nor wait for the next Top 9 - ALL the others were from the Random button.
This also marks the first time the official Top 9 has had anything other than eleven (11) posts.
I hope that doesn't become a trend.
Friday, April 12, 2013
DUMBASS!!!
Don't you know that when you get an email with a vague subject line ("Check this out" or "Have you seen this yet?") and a link in the message body, from someone you trust - don't you know that 90% of the time, that's a hijack? A virus, a spam, a scam, a pirated send from your friend's INFECTED INBOX?? EWW. And you CLICKED on that link?!
Come on. Get aware, get responsible! You want to just spread that problem yourself, to everyone in YOUR contacts list? Do you click every link you're sent, when the email itself has nothing in it from your friend that sounds like them? "Clicky-clicky, Ooo...an infected page. Who knew? Paging Malcom Ware! Paging Mr. Mal Ware?"
How do you not know better than that? Please, seriously.
Luckily for you, though - good news. This page is not infected. Your mailbox, right at this moment, is not sending out copies of a link to this page, to everyone you know. The person who sent you the link didn't send it to you due to a virusy piratey hijack attack. I don't know why they sent it to you. They want to promote anti-malware awareness? Maybe they just wanted to call you "dumbass."
Instructions for use: copy the URL to this page, and paste it into the body of an email. Give the email a vague subject line, such as "Check this out" or "Have you seen this yet?" Send it to as many of your friends as you wish!
A public service announcement, from we here at Consider Your Ass Kicked!
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Rule #1
Beating everybody at their own damn game is my own damn game.
God, the rules are so complex. Rule #1 though, is I don't play.
God, the rules are so complex. Rule #1 though, is I don't play.
Science: Balls-Deep In The Universe And Loving It #1: the Formation of Stars
I know all about stars!
Basically, it starts with physics. Then they put the matter in, but it's really jammed in there, right? So because there's so much of it, the gravity pulls it all in all pushy-crushy and then, the pressure builds and builds until the force and pressure overwhelms and breaks down the strong nuclear forces holding atoms together as separate from each other. RESULT? FUSION. It gets so hot in there you don't even want to think about it! And all that energy puts out in the form of visible light, cosmic rays and what not, solar flares, hard radiation particles - you name it.
A star is basically an ongoing everyday ho-hum nuclear explosion that only keeps its nice, round shape due to the uniform action of gravity coming in around roundly from all sides, acting towards the stellar core where the heavier elements begin accumulating as hydrogen is fused to helium, helium to the next one, the next one into something even heavier.
GOLD forms in stars, before they lose all their best un-fused fuel and finally explode! Supernova, and fly apart.
How's that?!
Better than wikipedia at least! Go look it up, and prepare to fail to be inspired I bet. I fervently hope. Because that's me trying my best up there! Wikipedia explains it very dry and convoluted I am sure, albeit probably they use more "right terms." They explain everything that way. They say the right song, but they've forgotten the music.
The music of the stars.
Basically, it starts with physics. Then they put the matter in, but it's really jammed in there, right? So because there's so much of it, the gravity pulls it all in all pushy-crushy and then, the pressure builds and builds until the force and pressure overwhelms and breaks down the strong nuclear forces holding atoms together as separate from each other. RESULT? FUSION. It gets so hot in there you don't even want to think about it! And all that energy puts out in the form of visible light, cosmic rays and what not, solar flares, hard radiation particles - you name it.
A star is basically an ongoing everyday ho-hum nuclear explosion that only keeps its nice, round shape due to the uniform action of gravity coming in around roundly from all sides, acting towards the stellar core where the heavier elements begin accumulating as hydrogen is fused to helium, helium to the next one, the next one into something even heavier.
GOLD forms in stars, before they lose all their best un-fused fuel and finally explode! Supernova, and fly apart.
How's that?!
Better than wikipedia at least! Go look it up, and prepare to fail to be inspired I bet. I fervently hope. Because that's me trying my best up there! Wikipedia explains it very dry and convoluted I am sure, albeit probably they use more "right terms." They explain everything that way. They say the right song, but they've forgotten the music.
The music of the stars.
Stream of Consciousness Semi-fictional semi-Autobiographical Materials
The dog came on. Yapping. I was terrified. I must have been four years old. Could this be the source of my fear of dogs? If so, what happened to my fear of dogs? I feel as though I had one, once. A fear of dogs. Click.
new memory: I stand at the beach, squelching and re-squelching my toes in the wet sand. The dying rush of another flat wave foams in, muddy colored with brilliant surface bubbles, the reflected sun pushes streaming warm water around my ankles and then - slow, stop, reverse - the tide drags itself back, its suction pulling the foundation from under my heels. I thrill to the sensation of the wet sand and mud disappearing out from under me. My feet are unsettling, making weird pits as the waves wash in and out. Click.
new memory: I stood there, in front of the candy store with my colored fluorescent chalks. Or were they crayons? Pastels? Some sort of colored tacky things they'd given me to draw on their window glass. It was the summer before eighth grade, and they were paying me to draw on their window. I was drawing a clown. I don't recall now if I had been asked to draw a clown, or simply to draw something. I was drawing a clown. Click.
My first sexual experience. I am simultaneously penetrating and being penetrated by myself. But something is wrong. I have only half the necessary genetic material for a human being! Wait, okay, the other half is in wiggly me. That complements and completes the half in round me. The nuclear boundaries are dissolving, releasing two halved double helixes into a shared cell chamber. Drawn to each other, pulling and whirling as if in a dance, the two incomplete sequences combine into one - complete! A new organism! Unique in the history of the world. Straight, white and male. Click.
End memory retrieval sequence.
new memory: I stand at the beach, squelching and re-squelching my toes in the wet sand. The dying rush of another flat wave foams in, muddy colored with brilliant surface bubbles, the reflected sun pushes streaming warm water around my ankles and then - slow, stop, reverse - the tide drags itself back, its suction pulling the foundation from under my heels. I thrill to the sensation of the wet sand and mud disappearing out from under me. My feet are unsettling, making weird pits as the waves wash in and out. Click.
new memory: I stood there, in front of the candy store with my colored fluorescent chalks. Or were they crayons? Pastels? Some sort of colored tacky things they'd given me to draw on their window glass. It was the summer before eighth grade, and they were paying me to draw on their window. I was drawing a clown. I don't recall now if I had been asked to draw a clown, or simply to draw something. I was drawing a clown. Click.
My first sexual experience. I am simultaneously penetrating and being penetrated by myself. But something is wrong. I have only half the necessary genetic material for a human being! Wait, okay, the other half is in wiggly me. That complements and completes the half in round me. The nuclear boundaries are dissolving, releasing two halved double helixes into a shared cell chamber. Drawn to each other, pulling and whirling as if in a dance, the two incomplete sequences combine into one - complete! A new organism! Unique in the history of the world. Straight, white and male. Click.
End memory retrieval sequence.
Tuesday, April 09, 2013
Most of the time, perfection's only pretty neat.
...And the reason you can never remember perfection is, perfection is not what happened. Perfection isn't what you actually did - it's the blaze of a moment where something was created, and it's the glow your memory gives that moment. But the thing itself - the idea, the act, the perfect turn of phrase - wasn't perfection, never was. Even if you reconstruct that turn of phrase precisely later, word for word, your mind will say, "aw man that is not it. It was better than that. Why can't I remember!? Why didn't I write it down?"
Perfection must always be written down, or your mind will never be satisfied you got it right. What you reconstruct perfectly later is not good enough. But if write it down, your mind will be forced to succumb. "Wait, was that it? I guess it was. I thought it was better than that! But yeah, I guess this was it. OK!
Pretty neat!"
Perfection must always be written down, or your mind will never be satisfied you got it right. What you reconstruct perfectly later is not good enough. But if write it down, your mind will be forced to succumb. "Wait, was that it? I guess it was. I thought it was better than that! But yeah, I guess this was it. OK!
Pretty neat!"
Monday, April 08, 2013
Sunday, April 07, 2013
Retiring The Old Top 9!
This was the all 'hell' label edition:
For the next Top 9 of All-Time: It's back to the Random Post button! Hoo hoo!
a horrible thought
Satan Hates Puppies
I Think World War I is On The Cusp of a Big Public Appreciation Renaissance
Some Claim Hell
On Any Given Sunday In The Afterlife
I Love Beets!
Who Did You Say You Thought You Were, Again?
So Okay, I'll Bite: What The Hell?
Reincarnation? Oh God, Please No
I Have This Theory About The Afterlife...
A Compassionate Outreach: to Atheists
For the next Top 9 of All-Time: It's back to the Random Post button! Hoo hoo!
Zero Google results for "don't card my recovery process"
Does that mean I made it up?
"Don't card my recovery process!" It means basically, don't ID me on shit that's supposed to be anonymous (or private); don't ask me to produce credentials on my personal state or document my stage of struggle; don't investigate my program and rate how I'm doing, when I didn't ask you.
Could also have overtones of "don't make this a competition between us of who's been the biggest victim, of whose agony wins the pain pageant."
Stuff like that. You mean it's not even a saying?
Huh.
Well then what do people say for that?
"Don't card my recovery process!" It means basically, don't ID me on shit that's supposed to be anonymous (or private); don't ask me to produce credentials on my personal state or document my stage of struggle; don't investigate my program and rate how I'm doing, when I didn't ask you.
Could also have overtones of "don't make this a competition between us of who's been the biggest victim, of whose agony wins the pain pageant."
Stuff like that. You mean it's not even a saying?
Huh.
Well then what do people say for that?
Saturday, April 06, 2013
thought process
If humanity's got any chance of getting through the thickness of each other's skulls it will...
...something to do with the thinness of each other's skins. Make it clever, wrap it with a bow, dunzo.
hm.
Maybe a poem!
the thickness of each other's skulls
the thinness of each other's skins
so sensitive to undertone
so flushed with insult, loss and win
so pricked with shame, the thickness of
each other's skulls
protects the tender brain
inside,
so delicate
let nothing in
that could upset
one's delicately-balanced pride
let nothing in
that could cause me
to reevaluate my life
let nothing in
that could cause me to question
why I'm on my side, let nothing in
to cause a switch
crack like a whip
red stripe of shame
across my hide
...
Yeah. Hm. Could be!
Call it "hide," I guess!
...something to do with the thinness of each other's skins. Make it clever, wrap it with a bow, dunzo.
hm.
Maybe a poem!
the thickness of each other's skulls
the thinness of each other's skins
so sensitive to undertone
so flushed with insult, loss and win
so pricked with shame, the thickness of
each other's skulls
protects the tender brain
inside,
so delicate
let nothing in
that could upset
one's delicately-balanced pride
let nothing in
that could cause me
to reevaluate my life
let nothing in
that could cause me to question
why I'm on my side, let nothing in
to cause a switch
crack like a whip
red stripe of shame
across my hide
...
Yeah. Hm. Could be!
Call it "hide," I guess!
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