Do You Feel Lucky?

(and feel free to comment! My older posts are certainly no less relevant to the burning concerns of the day.)

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

What is your work? What is your goal? What is your life?

There is only one work we have in this life: self-creation. We have to take that most seriously, out of everything we have to do. Because everyone we love most - everyone we love, plus everyone we meet or even chance across - will have the blessing and the benefit of who we choose to be.

We want to be a blessing, to those we love. We are the ones who make ourselves a blessing.

Monday, September 27, 2010

When I Was a Kid #16: I Used to Draw Dinosaurs

Anyone looking at my drawings would think the mere presence of a badass Tyrannosaur in the vicinity was enough to set off all nearby volcanoes at once.

The Reverse-Lottery: My New System For Results

Yeah, so I've decided to start playing the reverse-lottery. I'll break down my system for you. So far, it works. But I need to give you a bit of background, here.

For a long time now, for years I've played the same group of numbers every draw in the lottery. That's twenty dollars gets you ten weeks (two draws a week) - not such a big expense is it? I'm not one of those dip-heads who thinks if I had that $20 back that I spent two months ago, that'd be another twenty in my pocket right now. Bullshit, it would've been spent on dinner on ten separate occasions between then and now. So on balance, I think it's a decent expense for what you get. You get to check your numbers every month or so, and there's that breathless moment of anticipation where you're like, "Hey! What happens if one of these draws hit?" Balanced by the tedium of looking down all those rows of numbers. On the whole, it's more boring than anything else. I figure I'm covered either way, win or lose, and if I win I'll deal with it at that point.

But here's what happened to change my perspective, to shake up my style of play. Every now and then, I would realize I didn't buy my ticket in time, for that night's draw. Holy shit! I missed a draw! I didn't re-up, and now I'm on my 21st draw of a 20-draw ticket, and I hung myself out to dry with no coverage. Or sometimes, maybe I was so off my routine that I missed two draws.

Well I'll tell you, what I discovered was this. The anticipation on those missed draws is way higher than on the ones where I'm just "ho hum, checking a month's worth at once, to see if I won or not." Because I buy that late ticket, knowing full well I'm too late for the draw(s) I missed, and then I pretty much run to check those results where I wasn't covered! I never check before, I have to buy the ticket first so I'm covered, even if the worst should happen. My heart is in my throat checking those draw results - because if my numbers hit, calamity!

I guess I probably always figure Murphy's Law is in effect, and that the very draw I missed is just going to turn out to be the one that hits. When my week-in-week-out set of numbers finally comes due. Wouldn't it just figure? And how the hell would I deal with that rueful turn of events? You can see how such a situation is just naturally ratcheted-up.

And that's when I got to thinking: what am I in this for? For gambling addicts, what they're addicted to is the thrill, right? Not the win. Certainly not the loss. It's the thrill. And if I end up getting way better "thrill results" when I miss playing - then what the hell am I doing? Where's my value? Playing the way I play, where's my value?

So I decided to switch it up. Now I play reverse-lottery. I don't buy any tickets at all, but every damn draw I am checking those numbers. Edge of my seat, with my heart in my throat, saying "Holy damn, wouldn't it just figure if my numbers come up now!"

But then every time they don't, I'm like, "I won! I won one dollar."

We'll see how long I can keep this up. It's pretty damn intense so far - major-league suspense on every play! But one way or the other, I'm guessing the thrill will abate after a while.

"There Is Truth In Jest," So They Say

...but they're kidding.

Friday, September 24, 2010

What This Blog Used To Look Like

Just as a future reference.

The look I was originally trying to recapture was the funky throwback old-school glowing green text on black, as seen on the early wave of home computers I remember from back around when I was born. But you know what, without those blocky system fonts, my color scheme never really could succeed at capturing that mood.

So here's a white background!

Fiction Friday: Ill-It-Yourself Children's Book!

For this to work, people have to send in drawings. I write the story - you illustrate it! I'll post the first 11 illustrations I get to illustrate the story-point captions below. Except, it's a children's book people damn it - so if you want me to use the drawing, don't make it all inappropriate!

1. Jill and Jill-Bob were twins. Jill was born just before midnight, and Jill-Bob was born just after!

2. Jill and Jill-Bob's father died during childbirth, but first he made Jill and Jill-Bob's mother promise to name the child Jill - no matter what.

3. Jill and Jill-Bob's parents didn't know there were twins in there, but Jill and Jill-Bob's mom kept her promise anyway. She just named everybody "Jill."

4. Later Jill started calling her brother Jill "Jill-Bob."

4a. The name stuck.

5. Jill-Bob loved his sister Jill.

6. Jill loved her brother Jill-Bob.

7. One day Jill-Bob asked Jill what she wanted for her birthday.

8. Jill said "a cartoon of a horse!"

9. Jill-Bob drew the most beautiful cartoon of a horse and gave it to Jill right then.

10. It wasn't even her birthday!

11. The End.

Top 9 of All Time #9!

Announcing a new Top 9 of All Time! As seen in the sidebar. And since this is Top 9 of All Time #9 - you may be excited to expect something a little special to mark the milestone! SO HERE IT IS!


A Valid Defense of Film Director Michel Gondry
A Look Back On The 20th Century: Some Unanswered Questions
Plot Keywords from for the New Liam Neeson Flick Taken
Help With An Idiomatic Expression
A Call For All You Kung Fu Fans
A Criticism of the Principal Characters in Tennessee Williams's The Glass Menagerie
Open Dream Journal #40: Almost Paradise
Tina Fey Is Hot Pt.3
Who Dares Question What I Say Is The Will Of God?
Why Actresses Should Be Forced to Do Nude Scenes
In Defense of Tribal Thinking

The links in the sidebar are enabled and clickable!

As always, as tradition would have it, the Top 9 of All Time consists of 11 posts. The final 3 are officially all tied for ninth.

More Offensive Scientific Theories

The real reasons dinosaurs died out is they were fags.

Thursday, September 23, 2010


The Blog is going through a lackluster period.

So you know what I say? Fuck the Blog.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Guess The Shakespeare Quote, As Reinterpreted By My Buddy Rob #4


Today's Guess The Shakespeare Quote As Reinterpreted By My Buddy Rob:

"Check it, bro. Whatever you got - keep some shit hid, and whatever you know - don't spill all of it."

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Japanese Food Is the Pinnacle of Edible Elegance and Sophistication

...but not the way I eat it!

Give me a pair of chopsticks, I'm like, the master of destruction.

"Name In Vain"

I haven't been much of a praying man
but as a child I would pray out loud
some things I've seen have sort of shut me up

some things that happened to the ones I loved
and looking further at the world itself
God, you better save a little punishment up
for hell

sometimes it feels so good
to say your name
but it's in vain

You said you know that God could never give
a burden heavier than you could bear
but when I see you crumple under it
I'm so scared

I try to lift you help you get back up
I try to hold you as you try not to cry
the only thing I have to say to God
is why?

sometimes it feels so good
to say your name
but it's in vain

sometimes it feels so good
to say your name
in vain

Dear God I never thought that you weren't there
but somehow still I seem to have lost my faith
it's hard for me to believe you care
these days

She said you had to put her to the test
she said so far you're probably not impressed
I guess to you it probably all makes sense
it's all for the best

it's all
the best

sometimes it feels so good
to say your name
but it's in vain

sometimes it feels so good
to say your name
in vain

Sunday, September 19, 2010

That Bitch at the Liquor Store Carded Me!

She wasn't trying to say how young I look, either!

It was a sarcastic commentary on the appropriateness of a man of my middling-advanced years walking in there sporting a backwards ball-cap. Don't tell me it wasn't! I can tell.

Or so I thought.

Until I stepped back into my house with my purchase, hat still perched upon knot, and walked into the bathroom to check myself in the mirror real quick.


Who is this young gorgeous dude? She was probably carding me just to get a load of my address! Well, joke's on her: P.O. Box.

I took that backwards cap right the hell off at that point. Turns out that thing's dangerous.

Special Breakfast Recipes #10: Canadian Toast

For breakfast today, a treat of a dish I like to call "Canadian Toast"! It's like French Toast, only with a twist.

First, put those eggs away. There's no egg batter involved in this dish! Which for one thing, makes the toasting process far simpler. Step One: choose some nice, substantial slices of bread and pop 'em in the toaster! Toast 5 minutes, or until toasted on each side.

Step Two, remove toast from the toaster and place on a serving plate. Or actually, whatever they call a regular plate. That'll do. Don't waste a lot of time choosing some special plate. Have a plate ready, or just pick one. It's critical to perform Step Two quickly!

Step Three: while toast is still toasty-hot, scrape and slather pats of butter right onto it. All over it! Use the knife, but be gentle. Work it in and around. If you feel the urge to say something out loud incorporating the phrase, "nooks and crannies," this is totally appropriate.

Step four: drench, pour and otherwise liberally drizzle the toast with pure Canadian maple syrup. Then serve and enjoy! Serves however many people are eating, divided by how much Canadian Toast they each get.

I call it "Canadian Toast" in honor of that pure Canadian maple syrup, and also because Canadian always seemed halfway between French and American to me, and so Canadian Toast is a sort of midpoint between French Toast, with its traditional egg batter treatment, and American Toast which traditionally omits the syrup entirely. Now there's a recipe that seems like the logical outcome of some kind of inevitable thought process!

Canadian Toast! It's not every day you get a breakfast recipe that incorporates a history lesson. Technically, it wasn't today either.

Bon appetite!

On Any Given Sunday In The Afterlife

If I meet Art Modell in heaven, I'ma punch him in the mouth.

If I meet Art Modell in hell, I'ma kill him.

If I meet Art Modell in a subsequent life, we've both been reincarnated - I will devise some poetically fitting object lesson depending on what he gets reincarnated as. Like if he comes back as a tree, I'll uproot him from his nice yuppie upscale Baltimore neighborhood public gardens, and replant his ass in some down home gritty Cleveland public park for all the dawgs of that historic city to piss on. Or if he comes back as a bear, I would, actually if Art Modell comes back as a bear I'll leave him alone. Unless I'm reincarnated as a...I don't know...great white shark or something. I'll take those odds. Long as it's on my turf.

If when I die I find we are all annihilated into the oblivion of nonexistence, I will STILL look around for Art, because somebody owes him about 470,000 asskickings.

If I meet Art Modell in purgatory, I'll be confused. That me...I'd mistake it for heaven.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Infamy At A Pool Hall #8

Now, normally in Infamy At A Pool Hall, I provide a lurid run-down of all the many reprehensible and disappointing things said by the group of one-would-think-classier-than-that characters within whom I include myself to play pool. You can click the 'infamy' label tag, see for yourself. Normally there are many, probably too many examples included - blatant standalone statements, unconscionable exchanges. But sometimes, you just have to stop at one. Sometimes one is enough to give the idea.

This occurred about ten seconds after the last song in the juke ended, and the voices of the players were still pitched at 'talking-over-music' volume. One player has just thwarted the other on the cloth mid-game, in a particularly shitty way, precipitating the outburst.

"I'm like a PROSTITUTE, Dan!"

(a pause, in the sudden silence of the entire room)

"You fuck me - you pay the price."

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

You Know What The Biggest Problem With My Resume Is?

You know what the biggest problem with my resume is? That eight-year stretch when I was a ninja.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I loved that job! I'm proud of what I learned and what I was able to accomplish, and I kicked ass at it. It was incredibly fulfilling work. I mean, I was top-notch too - I was high-performance plus at that job. But ever since the injury (don't ask), I'm not really applying for those kinds of positions anymore, and while the skills translate very well to an office environment I find that listing that on there isn't helping me. I'm encountering a bit of bias, a bit of resistance from the narrow-minded Human Resources community out there in the job industry. I guess they just don't really like to see that on there.

It intimidates them, maybe.

But what else am I supposed to do? List an eight-year gap? I mean, be honest! If you were a Human Resources professional and you see a resume with an 8-year employment gap in it - isn't that going to raise questions?

Thought of the Day: Hotness

Hotness is not a democracy. It's more like a hotocracy.

Guess The Shakespeare Quote, As Reinterpreted By My Buddy Rob #3


Today's Guess The Shakespeare Quote As Reinterpreted By My Buddy Rob:

"Yo bud, quit making your face so ugly at me - I'm the fucking boss of you."

Monday, September 13, 2010

Do You Wish to Love - Can You Give Enough?

"Use your saving graces
in the heavy light / till the sky falls down
he can pray all he likes"

Neil's voice ain't quite making it! He's been in incredibly great form this tour, shame to hit a bit of a rough patch on a media appearance. But it's a lovely song. A lovely song.

Quote of the Day: Belated Realization

"Oh shit - did you just imply what I just inferred??"

Sunday, September 12, 2010

A Song Lyrics At Random! #8 or So.

"Crush On Everyone"

You've been floating on the air, on a
wing and a swear word
you're an angel on a greeting card
hiding some wise-crack inside
and everyone you meet is smitten, instantly
who could hang a blame on you for liking what you see?

You've got a crush on everyone
You've got a crush on everyone
You've got a crush on everyone
but you're only in love with you

Every time you turn around you're
surrounded by onlookers
I admire at a distance while they
jockey for positions, baby
they eat your every gesture
super-sweet bon-bon
you can't help but let yourself go
on and on and on and on

You've got a crush on everyone
You've got a crush on everyone
You've got a crush on everyone
but you're only in love with you

Everyone is in agreement that
you're their true soulmate, and
you sincerely really think that there's
only one person for you
well I'd bet that you've met that person
every morning!
smiling through the toothpaste
making goo-goo eyes
right back at you

You've got a crush on everyone
You've got a crush on everyone
You've got a crush on everyone
but they're only in love with you

You've got a crush on everyone
You've got a crush on everyone
You've got a crush on everyone
but you're only in love with you

You've got a crush on everyone
You've got a crush on everyone
You've got a crush on everyone
'cause you're only in love with you

Friday, September 10, 2010

Fiction Friday: There Was Something Wrong...

He looked askance at the world. His incantations had thus far proved to be of no avail. It was just as he had made it. He couldn't unmake the change. When he'd first unearthed the Transcendant Grimoire from its hidden place, buried beneath the stacks in the BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH, BLAH! SAME FUCKING BULLSHIT AS ALWAYS, I hate this story already. Fuck it.

There was something the wrong with the world, and he couldn't put his finger on it. What, like maybe the world was a lie, pulled over his eyes to hide the truth that he couldn't accept, that he was a fucking BATTERY? Nice! Real original. FUCK IT.

He had been stationed for only two weeks on Worldcore One - the experimental United Nations permanent research and monitoring station anchored on the underside of the planet's crust (not, as its name would indicate, near the planet's core - but rather, fixed in place beneath the Antarctic Plate, just two miles South of the Antarctic-Nazca join, burrowed up and into the crust and extruding into the mantle) - and already it seemed to him that there was something very wrong. Like maybe, too much boring-ass gibberdy-jib exposition?

Fuck. It.

He sat drinking a beer, his third, waiting by a phone that never much rang. He stank, but only a little. He didn't really feel a great need to shower on days he missed work, unless he had plans to go out. It had been about five days. He was on vacation. He'd had plans. Plans he'd been looking forward to every day for the past six weeks. But they fell through at the last minute - which had given him a headache. The pain was almost gone now. He wondered whether he should just go back in to work early, at this point. If so, he'd definitely shower. His mental state was good; strong. He found himself peering through the angled gaps in the venetian blinds without touching them, trying to see who that was outside. There was motion. Were they coming to the door? No. No, they were going away. If they came back, he would be ready. If not...their loss. He pulled his boxer's waistband pretty far out and surveyed the general contents of that area. Hm. Pretty sexy! He practiced aloud what he might say if the phone rang. Nothing came to mind. He had no idea who would even be calling at this point. Everyone thought he was out of town, except the one person who knew why he wasn't.

BO-RING!!! Shit!

Okay, that's enough Fiction Friday. See us again, with another thrilling installment!

Thursday, September 09, 2010

Thought of Hey Wait a Second

The present is an engine for turning impossibilities into miracles.

Boy, I Do Love a Popsicle!

So I was standing outside at work watching this woman suck on a popsicle. Now don't get the wrong idea. I was just waiting my turn, really - there was a lively conversation going on, everybody with their quiescently-frozen treats, chatting and sucking, and maybe a little biting going on in there - and I was waiting for a break in the conversation, because she was sucking on a particular popsicle that I'd been eyeing for a while, but hadn't had the nerve to go for. Like most things, I tend to get stuck in a rut. I had a pretty good respect for her and her taste in general, so I thought, perfect - get some feedback/opinion from someone I respect, to ease the leap to this different treat! So this was a watermelon popsicle, it was bright red with green stripes, and there were little black seeds in there - and boy did it look delicious going in and out of her mouth!

Wait, that sounds a little borderline. I just meant the popsicle looked delicious. And it looked like she was really enjoying it, the taste and the meltyness, and just its kind of hardness and length, slowly melting in her hot mouth from the temperature, plus the friction going in and out. Does suction have an effect on that too? She was really pulling on this thing, man. I guess it was getting a little messy - don't want to lose any of that juice! This wasn't one of those shrimpers, either. This popsicle was big and big around. And not creamy and semi-soft, like some of your more dairy-based concoctions. You could tell this one was in more of an ice-base, and consequently, rock hard. It just had to be sucked. No biting that one! You'll chip a tooth, as the saying goes. But anyway, I just kind of got a little lost in the contemplation of all that watermelon flavor...exploding into fruition. Because like I said, I love watermelon!

Wait, I didn't mention that, did I? I love watermelon. God.

Point is, so I waited for a break in the conversation, and after everybody had kind of stopped and was looking at me for a minute, I sort of gave a start and said, "HEY! Wow. How's that watermelon popsicle? I've been meaning to try one of those!" She was like, it's very good, it's the best. I asked, "Are the seeds chocolate? What's with the seeds?" She was like, the seeds aren't the best part, but there are pretty few of them. I was like "I guess you can pretty much spit 'em out if you like. Adds realism to the experience!"

Which, we all pretty much agreed on that!

She even offered me a lick off of hers. I declined. After all that buildup and anticipation and visualization it just seemed...a little wrong, somehow, to want to put that thing in my mouth. At that point I didn't want just a lick, anyway. I wanted my own whole big one to suck! AW, YEAH.

Anyway, I love popsicles. There's an ice cream truck that comes by where I work, most afternoons. It's so great. I'm totally obsessed with popsicles, just ask anybody. It's totally wholesome, fixations-wise!

So sweet, and so cold.


Advice On Manipulating Cosmic Forces

True mind power is in the mind. No one can command the forces that flow about them! Yet all forces circulate cyclically. Their paths and fluctuations can be measured - and if understood, predicted. It's about understanding, not command.

If you study a thing deeply enough - even something cosmic - when you know enough about it, to where you can get ahead of it, you will to the casual eye appear to be an adept. Adept in its manipulation. In short, once you know something is going to happen anyway, you can level booming predictions about it and then reap the credit and awe on the afters!

Oh shit - I have to get going. I need to get ready to make the sun go down.

It takes considerable doing. You'd be surprised.

I Like Lighthouses!

Lighthouses are cool.

Wednesday, September 08, 2010

Guess The Shakespeare Quote, As Reinterpreted By My Buddy Rob #2


Today's Guess The Shakespeare Quote As Reinterpreted By My Buddy Rob:

"Parting is such sweet BULL SHIT"

Tuesday, September 07, 2010

Thought of the Day: Unconvincing

When a person responds to what I have to say and isn't convinced, that doesn't mean the person is insufficiently considerate. It means my point is not sufficiently convincing.

Monday, September 06, 2010

Now, I'm No Saint...

People who say I'm nice lied. If people say my hands are soft, they schedule a dentist appointment shortly thereafter. I beat sense into people for minor slights. It evens out my more saintly qualities.

I need that! I need some kind of thing to prevent me crossing over into sainthood territory. Because if that happens - bad situation. Suddenly I'm working miracles all the time, left and right - no thanks! To be viewed as some freak? I'll pass. I've got to keep just this side of sainthood. Saints get taken advantage of, in my experience.

Wait, scratch that. How do you take advantage of somebody who only wants to give you their life and everything more? You're just playing into their hands at that point. You can try to take advantage of them, but really you're just boosting their sick, saintly game.

Sometimes I'm so full of sense, I can't understand why I don't have people following me around, lapping it up. Disciples.

It could be the arrogance that goes with it. Some people...they find it a little hard to take.

Their loss.

Sunday, September 05, 2010

Who Was It That First Got All Inventive In The Kitchen?

Right? Who was that? Because that's who we ought to be honoring, right? I mean think about it, right at the early goings, everyone was all gathering, foraging...everything you had was either gathered or foraged...and then people would be like: well, here's what we've got. OK! Let's eat it.

Or okay, the hunting party comes back. Now we have meat!

Let's EAT IT FRESH AND RAW. Big game sushi, y'all.

I bet it was delishes, but yet, at some point somebody brought the fire. And people said "I like the crisp texture, and the fuller flavor this brings. I like the charred bits, particularly." But that on its own doesn't really add so much to the mix, in terms of complexity, so I ask you - who was it that first got all inventive in the kitchen?


That's who it was.

Just now, in fact. You people missed it. I'm not even going to tell you what I made, except to say, no capers were involved. I had capers, I just didn't think it was an appropriate accent to the dish.

Saturday, September 04, 2010

Yet Another Far-Reaching Consequence of Declining Literacy

In several decades from now, after enough of today's callow youths have passed on from various causes to really start having an impact on the afterlife demographic, I bet you Ouija boards start returning results that are all-but-unintelligible with chat-speak abbrevs.

My Dad Never Taught Me the "Right Way" to Shave

I've seen depictions in tv, or on the movies, of a tender scene between father and son where the father instructs the son in the finer points of shaving. It's always a scene of shared tender manliness, a passing on of knowledge over the rising boundaries that are only just defining themselves between these two men, one a grim veteran of the art, the other a new recruit - but bristling to prove himself.

My dad never showed me how to shave. So in consequence, I guess, I've never been entirely comfortable with my technique. It could be he was just busy, or I don't know. Maybe I was a late bloomer, in terms of the ol' jaw-lawn. I don't remember. Maybe he just took a look at me and said, "this little f'er thinks he can figure everything out anyhow. HE'LL BE FINE."

And for that confidence, I thank you, dad. And I also allow for the possibility: maybe your dad never showed you, either. Maybe you yourself lived your life not knowing, not really knowing - how to shave. And if so: I know that pain. The fear of exposure. The insecurity, that people can tell. Or that people will look at your face, the job you did today, and say - "He just doesn't care."

But as much as I love you, dad - and as much as I respect your ways! But my way doesn't have to be your way. I'm breaking the cycle. If I have a son, I am going to teach my son how to shave.

And for me, that means a pretty scary step as well. At this late stage in the game, I am going to have to learn myself. How to shave. The right way how to shave.

I'm taking a class at Cabrillo.

Friday, September 03, 2010

Smell The Bacon

A lot of people miss out on a lot in life, just by not taking the time to appreciate it. Me, for instance.

But I get better at it as time goes on. I get better at falling, knowingly in love, with life. And certain things just help me to succumb! As I take this BLT in hand, walking back from the catering truck where it was lovingly fried, sliced, spread and assembled, I can't help but lift the finished work up to my face, as I walk in the open air and sunshine of the parking lot, back to my office - and I breathe deep. And I breathe deep again. And oh, the smell of bacon is made flesh, within my brain - even before I take that first bacon-crunchy, tomato-sweet, mayo-tart lettuce-fresh bite! It's about visualization, and realization, followed by consummation - and only then is it truly possible: appreciation.

I could have eaten that sandwich by now, wolfed it all perfunctory - and it would have become part of me, sure. But because I have taken the time to know, love, and honor the bacon before I consume it, it doesn't simply become a part of me. It becomes a part of me forever.

Indeed, from a Christian perspective - God feeds on souls! God gorges Godself on our sweet, sour, salty, tart, piquant souls. God gobbles 'em up, takes them in - but in this process of celestial digestion we are not dissolved, but rather our minds and hearts and consciousnesses are swallowed whole! We not only remain whole - we are completed. Expanded. We are made one with God, and in God. This is the meaning of the Body of Christ. All of us together make up the body of Christ, at work and in motion in this world, taking action. Some of us are the hands that help and build. Some of us the eyes that look with love on others, without judgment. Some of us are the mouth, the voice that cries out at injustice! I myself am the naughty bits.

Anyway, as I deeply inhale the pungent aroma of this blessed bacon, I honor the pig whose death gave life to my lunch.

How Not to Ace a Job Interview

"My current job? I'm a Supplier Relations Manager. And when I say I'm 'a' Supplier Relations Manager...I am The Supplier Relations Manager. I'm cocky as hell about how I go about my business, I'm not ashamed to say. I do a pretty bad job, though. I admit it. I've gotten complacent over the years. It's not that I'm bad at it. When I say I do a bad job, it's not that the quality of the work is bad. It's more a reflection of performance versus capacity. I could potentially do three times as good a job. I've got unspeakable potential, one of the reasons I'm looking for a change. Where I am, the potential I have is just not being served. I've become too good to have to try any more, half the time. Let's be honest - I mean, I have goals, targets, goals that I strive for, that I'm way behind on. I'm going to hit it, I'm going to hit those goals! Nobody's better than me at that, I may be way behind but I'm going to catch up fast, full-throttle or half-assed, hit that target square on the dot just a little over budget and a tick under time. I've got more experience doing that than anything or anybody around. I will tell you that much. That's why I'm pretty cocky about being able to do whatever job you need. Whatever the job requires! I'm the man, and I'm desperate for a chance to prove myself in a tough, creative work setting after being underutilized! I will work circles around you. True, my confidence may be a bit too high for some people's taste, but in the long run I think it's balanced out by my complacency lately, so I think, a change of scenery maybe - could be just the trick! Perfect. And believe me, I'm good. I'm not too cocky - not too cocky for what you need. I'm not arrogant or anything. I'm incredibly arrogant, when it comes to what I know I can do, but these other aspects I'm mentioning counteract some of that, to bring me back to about, neutral humility. On balance. I'm very easy to work with.

Wait, sorry. What was the question?"

Thursday, September 02, 2010

My Life Is Approved!

Finally, I've received validation! My life is now approved.

I'm not sure what my next move is going to be, but after years of skirting the fringe of acceptance, I'm not going to squander any new opportunities that present themselves.

Wednesday, September 01, 2010

I Don't Know Which I Love More #3: This Song, or Jess Lane!

I don't know, man. I really do love this song. It's one of my top favorites, out of all the songs those guys do.

But after watching her do it a couple times, I've got to say...I've got to go with Jess.

Yup. Yes definitely.

Self. Center.

I'll never get over you, dear. You who I love.

As Björk put it, "I am no fucking Buddhist. But this is enlightenment." I can't very well be a Buddhist, and tell you I'll never get over you. If I am a Buddhist, I can't even tell you that I love you, in anything but the most flawed (meaning: acknowledgment that this perception and attachment to a self is a flaw) or abstract (meaning: to love not you, not a thing about you, but rather to love the crude voltage of impersonal "life force" that lights you up now, deserts you later) sort of love.

Buddhism is inimical to self, and so to love. This doesn't stop many Buddhists I've known from being deeply compassionate actors, with genuine love flowing for all those around them. Buddhists are only human, after all! It's as hard for a human not to love as it is for a human to truly let go self. Most Buddhists I've known love their fellow humans deeply, with a keen sense of humor about the prisons of self we all inhabit.

For to a Buddhist, a prison it is. Buddhism seeks to break the illusion of self, to leave self behind, and to achieve nirvana: the state of blissful oblivion. Buddhism abhors the self, and not one's own, only - every self there is, every self there has been or shall be. The distinctive humor of a well-enlightened Buddhist is of a fine kind, a funny kind too: at its root is the belief that all we selves are deluded to think that we matter. Those enlightened bodhisattvas even take a vow to forgo their well-earned oblivion, and instead keep on returning to self, over and over again. For as long as they can! To help others reach oblivion, is the claimed motive. If so, I call that quite admirably selfless. But I wonder whether more than a few of those bodhisattvas haven't got an ulterior motive? To want to keep coming back? Self is pretty seductive, after all. Seductive for good reason.

I wish to affirm the worth of the self. Yours in particular. I put it to you: self matters. You matter. There is within you - very particularly, you - a unique thing of worth that is no illusion, but that is rather a treasure far greater than whatever elan vital happens to be animating your limbs. Life force is not the valuable component of life. Life force, however you want to conceptualize or formulate it, is a cheap and renewable fuel that is worth only what comes of it: in a word, you.

I set forth the purpose of our reality thus: reality is the place where selves are self-made, where we each create who we will be by our choices and actions, within the confines of the raw materials of our bodies and worlds. We, our selves, are greater than those confines. We are making something infinitely more valuable than those materials, something infinitely more powerful than just the rude spark that sets us in motion, something limitless far beyond the mere confines of place and circumstance through which we pick our way. The self is our life's work. Each day, we are making it. Each day, we have made it. There is within you a world that is worth the world.

Some say (Christians, for instance) that afterwards, that precious thing we have each made of our self will get collected, whisked up high and set upon some shining and heartbreakingly beautiful shelf, for some eternally blissful ongoing purpose: a thing worth having been made, a thing not to be cast aside, a thing loved and worth being loved, for as many reasons the reasons I love you. And so, some say that self will be gathered up, to bask in the light of the creator who created us: creators. But whether or not that's the case, know that the self you have created is worth all of that. Worth far more than the base matter and energy that went into you, that you created your self out of. Your self; who you are.

Shall I get over myself?

Dear me, no. I never shall. Perhaps someone other than I will get over myself. I know I won't. But as a happy consequence, though: hey. You. Know now and know forever, that I will never get over you, either.

You who I love.

Guess The Shakespeare Quote, As Reinterpreted By My Buddy Rob #1


Today's Guess The Shakespeare Quote As Reinterpreted By My Buddy Rob:

"This kind of bullshit is like the shit they make dreams out of!"