So I have a concern about adults in this country. Specifically, my own generation, but I'll wager that those who came before me are just as much to blame. I should preface this concern by saying that I'm currently working a temp job scoring standardized tests in an office setting (something I'm new too) and today we took an hour out of our rigorous work of filling in little scantron bubble sheets to have an Easter egg hunt. Yes, an Easter egg hunt--that joyous event of running around in an elbow-throwing, teeth-clenching, rugby game in celebration of the risin' Christ and to gather enough candy to necessitate in multiple root canals (and they don't offer Dental). When one was five, this was questionably entertaining. When one is twenty-six to sixty, this is a degrading way for a soccer mom posing as a business woman to add insult to injury over the fact that you had to take a temp job in the first place.
Now Easter egg hunts in a supposedly professional setting with people who may or may not celebrate Easter, and undoubtedly have not recently chased other adults around a field on the side of a warehouse in the sprawl of small town Missouri, is not the end of the world. Nor are the seemingly endless conversations I overhear/ am drug into from thirty year old men who are ecstatic about the newest video game station that is coming out.
I say to them, "Does it bother you that other people our age are over in Iraq killing people that have done nothing to them or to our country so that you can comfortably return home from your Easter egg hunt to play Doom XXXII and a fourth?"
They look at me like I'm their grandfather and say, "Not really. I don't really follow politics."
There was a time when thirty year old men would have been ostracized by society for saying such a thing; a time when it was completely ludicrous that someone with the right to free speech and to elect officials of their choosing would not follow the career of the person pulling the strings that control his life. But hey, we live in leisurely times, and who really wants to know about the fifteen hundred laws that were passed restricting your freedom today? My concern is who is going to lead us when my generation gets our day in court. I personally don't have any friends who went to Harvard or Yale, but I have to assume people are still going to these institutions. And I suppose if they are, it would be reasonable to assume that those people will be the "Ivy League Assholes" who are pissing me off into my old age. Now, last time I checked this country was still kinda, sorta, somthing like a democracy (but not completely), which means we don't necessarily have to elect "Ivy League Assholes", we just continue to do it. Perhaps because they have the connections. Or maybe they just get all the breaks. I can't be certain that Yale and Harvard professionals don't have Easter egg parties after work, but I'm guessing if they did, the person who planned it would go missing for quite awhile afterwards.
I don't know why it seems like every political election is between tweedle-dumb and tweedle-dumber, but I do know that they certainly seem to know words I've not heard around the water cooler lately and speak intelligently about their country over and beyond anything I've heard since my political science class. Maybe the fact that they read books by great men and women instead of playing playstation has something to do with it. Or maybe their cable is constantly out and they can't tune in to vote for the next musical genius on American Idol. I don't know. But I do know it's getting awfully hard to back the "working man" when my generation's working man is a lazy bastard that plays video games and watches cartoons all evening.
When I was working in the woods awhile back, I used to think, "Man, those people working office jobs got it rough." (as I was putting in sixteen hour days outdoors for practically slave wages and living in a cabin with five other grown men). Now that I'm sitting in the air conditioning filling in bubble sheets, and checking my email on breaks, I'm thinking, "These people working office jobs are lazy, whiny bastards!" I don't mean to sound like an ass (yes I do) but my mom was a fourth grade teacher and my dad was a carpenter. I didn't exactly come from power and riches, but I've still managed to see most of this country, pay my way through school, and maintain a balanced bank account. It's not that hard. You just don't buy shit if you don't have money to pay for it. You educate yourself instead of letting other people tell you what to do, and for Christ sake, go see your country! We live in one of the most beautiful places in the world and we have the freedom to go anywhere and live anywhere we choose. Trust me, your friends will never even notice you left.
Here's my theory: Most Americans think they are going to one day be rich and famous. They don't know why. They don't know how, but they live in this constant day dream that it might happen any day. Thus, they buy stuff assuming that they'll be able to pay it off later, they vote for people that are going to let them keep their money (that they don't really have), and they watch a lot of TV and read a lot of magazines to keep the dream alive. It makes no sense.
Here's my advice. 1) Be broke and break even every month. Sell your new car, sell your new house, go live in a shack with the college kids until you are one hundred percent out of debt (Everyone knows what you do for a living and that you don't deserve that car or house yet. And we all have student loans, quit whining). 2) Stop avoiding intelligent conversations. Intelligent people debate politics (and sound like blow hards) because they have lives and money that are tied up in the system. They have something to lose. If you pay attention they will throw away more ideas for living a better life in an hour than most of us will have in our whole lifetime. 3) Go back to school. I don't care if you are twenty-five or fifty-five. By now you can probably tell how fast life is going; those remaining years of college will be over in a flash and your life will be exponentially more enjoyable because of it (even if your dream is something as simple as a family and a lake house). 4) If you have a dream, chase it now. Get up at five AM, stay up until mid-night, save every dime you have this year and quit your job so you can make it happen. Or get real. 5) Consult a specialist--always--in all areas of your life. Don't ask Mom and Dad (unless they're specialists in what you want to know), don't ask listen to your best friend (no matter how convincing he sounds); we live in an information age. Google a website with edu, gov, or org at the end and find out the actual answers to your questions.
And finally, don't ever stay at a job that makes you do childish, degrading shit to break up the monotony of your pathetic day. And with that, I have some job hunting to do.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
A Little Calmer...I think
Unfortunately, this blog posts things in reverse, so you may want to read this after you read the post that comes next.
I'm a little calmer today and will apologize a little more about what I wrote last night. I still want to encourage people to attempt to read something that will challenge them if you are one of those people who reads all these mind-numbing pop novels (if you're holding a book with a hot pink cover, I'm talking to you)...you know what, nevermind. Read whatever you want. We're all adults here (probably) and I have no business telling you what to do with your time. My frustrations are my own. I just wish America had a little more class is all--paid a little more attention to quality of life. All this plastic shit floating around in the world and houses that look like they might fall apart at the first strong wind, and fast food taking the place of a meal prepared with attention and care, and strip malls tearing down all our natural places...it's all too much for me sometimes. Take a fuckin' breather America. There's no trophy for being first, just a bunch of pissed off neighbors that can't wait until all our resources run out so they can point and laugh. We're like the cocky little teenager of the world, just snubbing our nose at a bunch of culturally rich, mature nations who could really care less about competing with us. They'd rather spend time with their families and travel than work eighty hours a week. Can you believe the nerve of some people? I think some countries even have food that doesn't come through a window in a parking lot. And they call that success...psh!
I hate ranting. I rant because I care. I don't mean to offend. I don't mean to judge. I just want you to be a healthy, happy, educated individual. Not a softy. Discipline is important. I'm just saying that no matter who you are, you are capable of so much more than you even know and progressive people make for a progressive country. We don't have to be miserable, we don't have to work jobs that treat us like shit, we don't have to breath polluted air and drink polluted water, we don't have to sit back and watch horrible mind-numbing shit on TV while praying that things just kind of work themselves out. What you do matters. Wake up. Play along. There's a whole world out there to explore. It might take some sacrifice. You may have to--gasp!--go without something now and again, but the benefits of a slower, more mindful, and rich lifestyle will change your life and change our country. It's not all about money. It's not not about money. It just isn't ALL about money.
Breathing in, I am relaxed. Breathing out, I am alive.
I'm a little calmer today and will apologize a little more about what I wrote last night. I still want to encourage people to attempt to read something that will challenge them if you are one of those people who reads all these mind-numbing pop novels (if you're holding a book with a hot pink cover, I'm talking to you)...you know what, nevermind. Read whatever you want. We're all adults here (probably) and I have no business telling you what to do with your time. My frustrations are my own. I just wish America had a little more class is all--paid a little more attention to quality of life. All this plastic shit floating around in the world and houses that look like they might fall apart at the first strong wind, and fast food taking the place of a meal prepared with attention and care, and strip malls tearing down all our natural places...it's all too much for me sometimes. Take a fuckin' breather America. There's no trophy for being first, just a bunch of pissed off neighbors that can't wait until all our resources run out so they can point and laugh. We're like the cocky little teenager of the world, just snubbing our nose at a bunch of culturally rich, mature nations who could really care less about competing with us. They'd rather spend time with their families and travel than work eighty hours a week. Can you believe the nerve of some people? I think some countries even have food that doesn't come through a window in a parking lot. And they call that success...psh!
I hate ranting. I rant because I care. I don't mean to offend. I don't mean to judge. I just want you to be a healthy, happy, educated individual. Not a softy. Discipline is important. I'm just saying that no matter who you are, you are capable of so much more than you even know and progressive people make for a progressive country. We don't have to be miserable, we don't have to work jobs that treat us like shit, we don't have to breath polluted air and drink polluted water, we don't have to sit back and watch horrible mind-numbing shit on TV while praying that things just kind of work themselves out. What you do matters. Wake up. Play along. There's a whole world out there to explore. It might take some sacrifice. You may have to--gasp!--go without something now and again, but the benefits of a slower, more mindful, and rich lifestyle will change your life and change our country. It's not all about money. It's not not about money. It just isn't ALL about money.
Breathing in, I am relaxed. Breathing out, I am alive.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Ideas In Reality
If my life were a boxing match, as I sometimes believe it to be, between the grandiose, idealistic, dreamer in my head and that side of myself that is firmly rooted in the logical, heart-breaking reality that is day to day life out in the world, I would have to say that reality has been winning the last few rounds.
It was brought to my attention that I haven't posted anything in awhile now, and to be perfectly honest it's because I haven't felt anything but intense disappointment since I finished writing back in February. Writing...real writing...good writing that inspires thought and conversation is a lost art. No one even knows what good writing is anymore because the only books anyone ever hears about are the ones that make it on the Oprah Book Club list. And to get angry about Oprah is ridiculous because at least she's getting people to read at all.
My beef is this: A good book should not only be an interesting story, well crafted and well written, but should also inspire a person to think and consider alternate realities to the one they live in. Today's best-selling stories are neither thought-provoking or well written (which means the majority of us aren't reading the good stuff. Which means the majority of us writers can't write the good stuff that won't sell). Today's books are crap. And no one even knows they're crap because after reading big pieces of crap for the last fifteen years or so to read a slightly smaller piece of crap seems revolutionary. Yes, I'm talking about the Da Vinci Code and other books of this nature. For Christ sake! If this is what passes for an intellectual conversation in America I'm leaving. My grandmother told me about the Knights of Templar when I was maybe ten--not a new idea. Fifteen years later some asshole writes a fictional story--a FICTIONAL STORY--about it and this whole Bible-thumpin' country loses their minds. Here's the first hint to reading a good book, if your Christian book group endorses it, it probably isn't going to get your synapses all a firin'. You might have to journey out past your cookie-cutter version of an all powerful being who helps your favorite basketball team win to learn something new. I promise He won't get HIS feelings hurt (even if HE is a SHE--huh? Back up! My mind's gonna explode. Someone pray for this lost soul.).
Anyway, I apologize--but only slightly--for this fanatical outlashing. I'm mostly frustrated with myself, because instead of sticking to my ideals of what good art is and isn't I went and wrote a serial-killer suspense novel in the hopes that this conservative (but mass killer loving) nation might read it. It won't happen again. From here on in my stories will have more depth and quality, even if I am the only one who ever reads them.
It was brought to my attention that I haven't posted anything in awhile now, and to be perfectly honest it's because I haven't felt anything but intense disappointment since I finished writing back in February. Writing...real writing...good writing that inspires thought and conversation is a lost art. No one even knows what good writing is anymore because the only books anyone ever hears about are the ones that make it on the Oprah Book Club list. And to get angry about Oprah is ridiculous because at least she's getting people to read at all.
My beef is this: A good book should not only be an interesting story, well crafted and well written, but should also inspire a person to think and consider alternate realities to the one they live in. Today's best-selling stories are neither thought-provoking or well written (which means the majority of us aren't reading the good stuff. Which means the majority of us writers can't write the good stuff that won't sell). Today's books are crap. And no one even knows they're crap because after reading big pieces of crap for the last fifteen years or so to read a slightly smaller piece of crap seems revolutionary. Yes, I'm talking about the Da Vinci Code and other books of this nature. For Christ sake! If this is what passes for an intellectual conversation in America I'm leaving. My grandmother told me about the Knights of Templar when I was maybe ten--not a new idea. Fifteen years later some asshole writes a fictional story--a FICTIONAL STORY--about it and this whole Bible-thumpin' country loses their minds. Here's the first hint to reading a good book, if your Christian book group endorses it, it probably isn't going to get your synapses all a firin'. You might have to journey out past your cookie-cutter version of an all powerful being who helps your favorite basketball team win to learn something new. I promise He won't get HIS feelings hurt (even if HE is a SHE--huh? Back up! My mind's gonna explode. Someone pray for this lost soul.).
Anyway, I apologize--but only slightly--for this fanatical outlashing. I'm mostly frustrated with myself, because instead of sticking to my ideals of what good art is and isn't I went and wrote a serial-killer suspense novel in the hopes that this conservative (but mass killer loving) nation might read it. It won't happen again. From here on in my stories will have more depth and quality, even if I am the only one who ever reads them.
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