...At work I see many people with chronic pain problems. And this can be the bane of my existence at times. There are people with actual problems who, whether they recognize it or not, become drug addicted. Some will blame the doctors for their addiction, saying that the doctors are the ones that put them on such potent drugs with their accompanying rapid withdrawal effects. This is an interesting article I found detailing a study of demographics of chronic pain. Of note, I found interesting the associations with level of education and the lack of availability of certain drugs in lower socioeconomic areas.
...How about a feel-good story from right here in Kansas City? I must say, however, that the attention lavished on him from celebrities may be a bit much. But he should be applauded for his efforts. Must be interesting to open up a new world with words at age 70.
...I continue to be shocked once in a while when I meet people who seem by all appearances and behavior to be like me who snort cocaine. COCAINE!! I have come to understand an educated, rational person using weed (know plenty of those), but the cocaine users have really suprised me. Maybe I shouldn't be. Maybe I'm naive. I see lots of patients who smoke crack (some of which surprise me as well, especially their nonchalance). And I see that powder is hitting the mainstream.
...For Radiohead fans, here is a great website. And I owe thanks to the overly obsessive people out there whom I can rely upon for details I love but would never really seek out.
...Finally, congratulations to my old roommate Matt Moreland and his wife Sara on the new addition to their family. They are in China right now picking up their daughter whom they have adopted, and you can follow along.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Friday, May 02, 2008
May 2, 2008
If you have a lot of time to kill, here is a compilation of the Top 50 Greatest Comedy Sketches of All Time, as collected by nerve.com. 50 is a lot. But they really seem to have gotten the ones I like.
So...what would you do? Watch and see what he did.
The Royals are back to their losing ways again. The pitching is doing well, but you can't have an offense that gets shut down by Sidney Ponson!! They lost 2 of 3 to the Rangers--my other team--who are the one team worse than the Royals in the AL.
So...what would you do? Watch and see what he did.
The Royals are back to their losing ways again. The pitching is doing well, but you can't have an offense that gets shut down by Sidney Ponson!! They lost 2 of 3 to the Rangers--my other team--who are the one team worse than the Royals in the AL.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
April 29, 2008
To the web!...
...The newest version of Grand Theft Auto comes out today. And no matter how much my moral core prompts me to feel otherwise, I have to admit that this is a fun game to play. At least, the old ones were fun. Forgive me. Not sure I would spend the money on something like this any more, though.
...Anyone else think that now is about time to stop this thing? If I were Billy Ray, I'd say it's time to shut it all down for a bit, or you're gonna get this, this, or this. And it actually seems as if they are trying to do the child star thing right. But is there a 'right' way anyway?
...So there are apparently people who actually wanna be the body behind the horrible new OU 'mascot'. Does anybody who is a Sooner fan like the horses?
...I'm uninformed and unmotivated, politically speaking, but something just doesn't seem right. And it seems like another industry has picked up on this, too.
...An article here on athletes and smoking from ESPN.com. (And you might notice where I've lifted my new blog style.)
...I like movies, but I don't like every movie, or even most movies, for that matter. So I like to know, if I'm going to spend the time and money on seeing one in the theater, if it is worth it. And this website is the one I've found that seems to give me good information on whether a movie is good or not. Test it and see. Look up your favorite movies on there, or the classics, and check the ratings, and you will see that it is reliable. Just saw "Juno" a couple of weeks ago, partly based on their consensus review, and thought it was great.
Welp, have a great day every one! (all three of you)
...The newest version of Grand Theft Auto comes out today. And no matter how much my moral core prompts me to feel otherwise, I have to admit that this is a fun game to play. At least, the old ones were fun. Forgive me. Not sure I would spend the money on something like this any more, though.
...Anyone else think that now is about time to stop this thing? If I were Billy Ray, I'd say it's time to shut it all down for a bit, or you're gonna get this, this, or this. And it actually seems as if they are trying to do the child star thing right. But is there a 'right' way anyway?
...So there are apparently people who actually wanna be the body behind the horrible new OU 'mascot'. Does anybody who is a Sooner fan like the horses?
...I'm uninformed and unmotivated, politically speaking, but something just doesn't seem right. And it seems like another industry has picked up on this, too.
...An article here on athletes and smoking from ESPN.com. (And you might notice where I've lifted my new blog style.)
...I like movies, but I don't like every movie, or even most movies, for that matter. So I like to know, if I'm going to spend the time and money on seeing one in the theater, if it is worth it. And this website is the one I've found that seems to give me good information on whether a movie is good or not. Test it and see. Look up your favorite movies on there, or the classics, and check the ratings, and you will see that it is reliable. Just saw "Juno" a couple of weeks ago, partly based on their consensus review, and thought it was great.
Welp, have a great day every one! (all three of you)
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Yankees fans are ridiculous
I will leave it to Joe Posnanski, columnist for the KC Star, to express the newest level of Yankee ridiculosity.
Surf on...
-Royals took two of three from the Blue Jays. Meche loses again.
-Just a quick plug for a band from Oklahoma City, Aranda--good friends of mine that I used to sit in with on occasion. It was a huge honor/privilege to sit in with them, because of their talent for singing, Dameon's guitar ability, and song writing ability. They have a new record. If you like what you hear, buy a record! Or go see a show.
-Need a new idea for a diet? Try going to prison. Seems to be working for this guy.
Surf on...
-Royals took two of three from the Blue Jays. Meche loses again.
-Just a quick plug for a band from Oklahoma City, Aranda--good friends of mine that I used to sit in with on occasion. It was a huge honor/privilege to sit in with them, because of their talent for singing, Dameon's guitar ability, and song writing ability. They have a new record. If you like what you hear, buy a record! Or go see a show.
-Need a new idea for a diet? Try going to prison. Seems to be working for this guy.
Friday, April 25, 2008
April 25, 2008
So after I posted last week about the Royals, how they were playing well, over .500, and near the top of their division...they promptly have gone out and lost 7 straight games, including both games of a doubleheader yesterday, and are now nuzzling into last place in their division. Seems to be a comfortable spot for them. And people are talking much less about them at work and around town. The excitement is dying down. Now it's going to be more about T-shirt Tuesdays and Buck Nights...still can't wait to get out to a game.
Bouncing around the net...
Wesley Snipes is in trouble for not paying taxes. I need to renew my license plates. I hope I don't get thrown in jail too.
Where did Barry Bonds go? Bill Simmons, one of my favorite columnists on ESPN.com, gives his take.
Saw this t-shirt after searching for more info on my Myers-Briggs test (see recent blog), proving there is a t-shirt for just about everything. I might actually get the baby blue version.
Will someone please come over and bake this for me? In my late night/early morning wakeful periods that I find myself in thanks to my job, I'll catch some interesting shows on the food network. And, naturally, I'll crave some kind of junk food. I've also seen some show where a lady was in a cake baking competition who made a key lime coconut cake !...please find this as well and make it for me.
Finally, before I go to work this morning, the story of a tough and crafty 95 year old woman, from Oklahoma, no less.
Have a great day...
Bouncing around the net...
Wesley Snipes is in trouble for not paying taxes. I need to renew my license plates. I hope I don't get thrown in jail too.
Where did Barry Bonds go? Bill Simmons, one of my favorite columnists on ESPN.com, gives his take.
Saw this t-shirt after searching for more info on my Myers-Briggs test (see recent blog), proving there is a t-shirt for just about everything. I might actually get the baby blue version.
Will someone please come over and bake this for me? In my late night/early morning wakeful periods that I find myself in thanks to my job, I'll catch some interesting shows on the food network. And, naturally, I'll crave some kind of junk food. I've also seen some show where a lady was in a cake baking competition who made a key lime coconut cake !...please find this as well and make it for me.
Finally, before I go to work this morning, the story of a tough and crafty 95 year old woman, from Oklahoma, no less.
Have a great day...
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
The Portait of the Healer
Healer Idealists are abstract in thought and speech, cooperative in striving for their ends, and investigative and attentive in their interpersonal relations. Healer present a seemingly tranquil, and noticiably pleasant face to the world, and though to all appearances they might seem reserved, and even shy, on the inside they are anything but reserved, having a capacity for caring not always found in other types. They care deeply-indeed, passionately-about a few special persons or a favorite cause, and their fervent aim is to bring peace and integrity to their loved ones and the world.
Healers have a profound sense of idealism derived from a strong personal morality, and they conceive of the world as an ethical, honorable place. Indeed, to understand Healers, we must understand their idealism as almost boundless and selfless, inspiring them to make extraordinary sacrifices for someone or something they believe in. The Healer is the Prince or Princess of fairytale, the King's Champion or Defender of the Faith, like Sir Galahad or Joan of Arc. Healers are found in only 1 percent of the general population, although, at times, their idealism leaves them feeling even more isolated from the rest of humanity.
Healers seek unity in their lives, unity of body and mind, emotions and intellect, perhaps because they are likely to have a sense of inner division threaded through their lives, which comes from their often unhappy childhood. Healers live a fantasy-filled childhood, which, unfortunately, is discouraged or even punished by many parents. In a practical-minded family, required by their parents to be sociable and industrious in concrete ways, and also given down-to-earth siblings who conform to these parental expectations, Healers come to see themselves as ugly ducklings. Other types usually shrug off parental expectations that do not fit them, but not the Healers. Wishing to please their parents and siblings, but not knowing quite how to do it, they try to hide their differences, believing they are bad to be so fanciful, so unlike their more solid brothers and sisters. They wonder, some of them for the rest of their lives, whether they are OK. They are quite OK, just different from the rest of their family-swans reared in a family of ducks. Even so, to realize and really believe this is not easy for them. Deeply committed to the positive and the good, yet taught to believe there is evil in them, Healers can come to develop a certain fascination with the problem of good and evil, sacred and profane. Healers are drawn toward purity, but can become engrossed with the profane, continuously on the lookout for the wickedness that lurks within them. Then, when Healers believe thay have yielded to an impure temptation, they may be given to acts of self-sacrifice in atonement. Others seldom detect this inner turmoil, however, for the struggle between good and evil is within the Healer, who does not feel compelled to make the issue public.
The above is the description of an INFP, my personality type according to the Myers-Briggs test. Another result from my dabbling in self-awareness.
Healers have a profound sense of idealism derived from a strong personal morality, and they conceive of the world as an ethical, honorable place. Indeed, to understand Healers, we must understand their idealism as almost boundless and selfless, inspiring them to make extraordinary sacrifices for someone or something they believe in. The Healer is the Prince or Princess of fairytale, the King's Champion or Defender of the Faith, like Sir Galahad or Joan of Arc. Healers are found in only 1 percent of the general population, although, at times, their idealism leaves them feeling even more isolated from the rest of humanity.
Healers seek unity in their lives, unity of body and mind, emotions and intellect, perhaps because they are likely to have a sense of inner division threaded through their lives, which comes from their often unhappy childhood. Healers live a fantasy-filled childhood, which, unfortunately, is discouraged or even punished by many parents. In a practical-minded family, required by their parents to be sociable and industrious in concrete ways, and also given down-to-earth siblings who conform to these parental expectations, Healers come to see themselves as ugly ducklings. Other types usually shrug off parental expectations that do not fit them, but not the Healers. Wishing to please their parents and siblings, but not knowing quite how to do it, they try to hide their differences, believing they are bad to be so fanciful, so unlike their more solid brothers and sisters. They wonder, some of them for the rest of their lives, whether they are OK. They are quite OK, just different from the rest of their family-swans reared in a family of ducks. Even so, to realize and really believe this is not easy for them. Deeply committed to the positive and the good, yet taught to believe there is evil in them, Healers can come to develop a certain fascination with the problem of good and evil, sacred and profane. Healers are drawn toward purity, but can become engrossed with the profane, continuously on the lookout for the wickedness that lurks within them. Then, when Healers believe thay have yielded to an impure temptation, they may be given to acts of self-sacrifice in atonement. Others seldom detect this inner turmoil, however, for the struggle between good and evil is within the Healer, who does not feel compelled to make the issue public.
The above is the description of an INFP, my personality type according to the Myers-Briggs test. Another result from my dabbling in self-awareness.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Baseball
So, I like baseball. Here's a blog by Rob Neyer who writes for ESPN. This is one of a few blogs I read about baseball on a regular basis. If you are also a baseball fan, I'd also recommend a couple of other ESPN columnists. His columns lean toward analysis of the game--statistics and such. The one I visit the most is a blog by Buster Olney, but you have to be an "ESPN Insider" to read it (monthly fee, which I gladly pay). His blog is more about keeping a pulse on happenings with every team, filled with links to beat writers in every market, so you get the little details which make following a local team so much fun. In all honesty, that is what makes me enjoy the Royals so much. I can get so much detailed information and analysis on a daily basis here in KC through newspapers, radio, television, internet, and water cooler talk. So, basically, Olney's column directs you to all those things in each baseball city.
I read Sports Illustrated regularly as a kid. Well, not the whole magazine. I would skip to the 2-3 page baseball section to read Peter Gammons, and I would have to say his columns were the greatest fuel to my baseball fandom. These days he writes periodically for ESPN (also an insider feature I believe). If I am correct, he is going to be a part of the Baseball Hall of Fame for writers. And how cool is that for him. All of these guys are essentially fans who focused their journalism careers and writing on the game they loved. I certainly don't envy the life on the road and having to play the political games to get the interviews and the scoop they are required to get. But, as with Gammons, you do something you love long enough, you will end up having success. Imagine that for him...writing about all of these baseball players, and then you also end up in their hall of fame.
When I moved to Kansas City, I began to read Joe Posnanski's column in the Kansas City Star. He's really pretty good. It's fun to try and get into the mind and hearts of the long-suffering Kansas City Royals fans. I say 'long-suffering,' but I am old enought to remember the Royals being a very good team in the 80's. In fact, I was on a little league team called the Royals for one year. I doubt there are many Royals teams in the little leagues around the country anymore. Lotsa Yankees, Red Sox, Dodgers, Cardinals, Braves. You can tell that Posnanski has been around for it all, and it's fun to keep up with. Each spring he writes a column about how the Royals will win it all. Which is followed later on (not much later) in the season by a column about how the Royals will never win it all. Good stuff.
I like baseball. Weather's getting warmer. Royals are back in town this week.
I read Sports Illustrated regularly as a kid. Well, not the whole magazine. I would skip to the 2-3 page baseball section to read Peter Gammons, and I would have to say his columns were the greatest fuel to my baseball fandom. These days he writes periodically for ESPN (also an insider feature I believe). If I am correct, he is going to be a part of the Baseball Hall of Fame for writers. And how cool is that for him. All of these guys are essentially fans who focused their journalism careers and writing on the game they loved. I certainly don't envy the life on the road and having to play the political games to get the interviews and the scoop they are required to get. But, as with Gammons, you do something you love long enough, you will end up having success. Imagine that for him...writing about all of these baseball players, and then you also end up in their hall of fame.
When I moved to Kansas City, I began to read Joe Posnanski's column in the Kansas City Star. He's really pretty good. It's fun to try and get into the mind and hearts of the long-suffering Kansas City Royals fans. I say 'long-suffering,' but I am old enought to remember the Royals being a very good team in the 80's. In fact, I was on a little league team called the Royals for one year. I doubt there are many Royals teams in the little leagues around the country anymore. Lotsa Yankees, Red Sox, Dodgers, Cardinals, Braves. You can tell that Posnanski has been around for it all, and it's fun to keep up with. Each spring he writes a column about how the Royals will win it all. Which is followed later on (not much later) in the season by a column about how the Royals will never win it all. Good stuff.
I like baseball. Weather's getting warmer. Royals are back in town this week.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Today's links
So, this is troubling. Plus it's an echo of an earlier event.
And, again, this is where I live.
The Royals are young and a fun team to watch. A few young stars with a lot of talent. They lost to Oakland last night. BUT...they are over .500, and they are in second place in arguably the toughest division in baseball. And...they're back in town next week...AND...the weather is warming up. KC summers are nice. The winters...not so much.
Next month, I will be going to this, this, and this. Great month!
And, again, this is where I live.
The Royals are young and a fun team to watch. A few young stars with a lot of talent. They lost to Oakland last night. BUT...they are over .500, and they are in second place in arguably the toughest division in baseball. And...they're back in town next week...AND...the weather is warming up. KC summers are nice. The winters...not so much.
Next month, I will be going to this, this, and this. Great month!
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Psalm 1
Happy are those who don't listen to the wicked, who don't go where sinners go, who don't do what evil people do. They love the Lord's teachings, and they think about those teachings day and night. They are strong like a tree planted by a river. The tree produces fruit in season, and its leaves don't die. Everything they do will succeed.
But wicked people are not like that. They are like chaff that the wind blows away. So the wicked will not escape God's punishment. Sinners will not worship with God's people. This is because the Lord takes care of his people, but the wicked will be destroyed.
Matthew 15--Jesus speaking
I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit, He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it, that it may bear more fruit. You are already clean because of the word which I have spoken to you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in me, and I in him...he bears much fruit; for apart from me you can do nothing.
If anyone does not abide in me, he is thrown away as a branch and dries up; and they gather them up, and cast them into the fire, and they are burned. If you abide in me and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it shall be done for you. By this, God is glorified--that you bear much fruit and become my disciples. Just as God has loved me, I have also loved you. Abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love; just as I have kept God's commandments, and I abide in his love.
These things I have spoken to you, so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be made full.
ABIDE
verb (used without object) 1. to remain; continue; stay: Abide with me.
2. to have one's abode; dwell; reside: to abide in a small Scottish village.
3. to continue in a particular condition, attitude, relationship, etc.; last.
–verb (used with object) 4. to put up with; tolerate; stand: I can't abide dishonesty!
5. to endure, sustain, or withstand without yielding or submitting: to abide a vigorous onslaught.
6. to wait for; await: to abide the coming of the Lord.
7. to accept without opposition or question: to abide the verdict of the judges.
8. to pay the price or penalty of; suffer for.
My thoughts:
-The language (as translated at least) is kinda harsh in the Psalm. "Wicked", "evil." It takes much for me to consider someone or something wicked or evil. Perhaps you or others can relate to that type of language. In particular, maybe that author. Currently, I do not see much around me as wicked. I do see bad things and bad people, and bad things that people do to each other. But it doesn't fire me up like that. I guess that speaks more to my level emotions.
-I relate more to the broken branch. What I don't like is the idea of being thrown away. Like I'm such a disappointment.
-At the end of the excerpt from Matthew, Jesus Christ says that he's telling us all these thing to give us joy. Interesting. Joy. I know there are books out there and sermons preached on joy. And certainly, if you know me well, joy has been at a minimum in my life for the last 2 1/2 years. Joy...that would be nice.
Your thoughts...?
But wicked people are not like that. They are like chaff that the wind blows away. So the wicked will not escape God's punishment. Sinners will not worship with God's people. This is because the Lord takes care of his people, but the wicked will be destroyed.
Matthew 15--Jesus speaking
I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit, He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it, that it may bear more fruit. You are already clean because of the word which I have spoken to you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in me, and I in him...he bears much fruit; for apart from me you can do nothing.
If anyone does not abide in me, he is thrown away as a branch and dries up; and they gather them up, and cast them into the fire, and they are burned. If you abide in me and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it shall be done for you. By this, God is glorified--that you bear much fruit and become my disciples. Just as God has loved me, I have also loved you. Abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love; just as I have kept God's commandments, and I abide in his love.
These things I have spoken to you, so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be made full.
ABIDE
verb (used without object) 1. to remain; continue; stay: Abide with me.
2. to have one's abode; dwell; reside: to abide in a small Scottish village.
3. to continue in a particular condition, attitude, relationship, etc.; last.
–verb (used with object) 4. to put up with; tolerate; stand: I can't abide dishonesty!
5. to endure, sustain, or withstand without yielding or submitting: to abide a vigorous onslaught.
6. to wait for; await: to abide the coming of the Lord.
7. to accept without opposition or question: to abide the verdict of the judges.
8. to pay the price or penalty of; suffer for.
My thoughts:
-The language (as translated at least) is kinda harsh in the Psalm. "Wicked", "evil." It takes much for me to consider someone or something wicked or evil. Perhaps you or others can relate to that type of language. In particular, maybe that author. Currently, I do not see much around me as wicked. I do see bad things and bad people, and bad things that people do to each other. But it doesn't fire me up like that. I guess that speaks more to my level emotions.
-I relate more to the broken branch. What I don't like is the idea of being thrown away. Like I'm such a disappointment.
-At the end of the excerpt from Matthew, Jesus Christ says that he's telling us all these thing to give us joy. Interesting. Joy. I know there are books out there and sermons preached on joy. And certainly, if you know me well, joy has been at a minimum in my life for the last 2 1/2 years. Joy...that would be nice.
Your thoughts...?
Monday, November 19, 2007
The Cry
I'm sorry, my friend, that you now have The Cry
Deep from the gut, powered through the throat
Flattened with face to the floor
Spine twisting
Abrupt and looming
Cathartic and primitive
But shameful, loathsome, and possessive
Joy-depleting, age-accelerating,
Friend-confusing, family-frustrating
Tears drain away parts of your soul
But I remember who you are is who you were
The glide of innocence is gone
The bumps warned of have come
I pray for rapid return
Of your former state of mind
Of the uninhibited and lasting smile
The one I knew before the mask went on
May your face be resistant to the digs of the frown
To the wrinkles that crack me
To the pounds that weigh me down
May time pass quickly and busily
And new love come soon to soothe and swoon
Who you are is who you were
and who you will be someday too
Deep from the gut, powered through the throat
Flattened with face to the floor
Spine twisting
Abrupt and looming
Cathartic and primitive
But shameful, loathsome, and possessive
Joy-depleting, age-accelerating,
Friend-confusing, family-frustrating
Tears drain away parts of your soul
But I remember who you are is who you were
The glide of innocence is gone
The bumps warned of have come
I pray for rapid return
Of your former state of mind
Of the uninhibited and lasting smile
The one I knew before the mask went on
May your face be resistant to the digs of the frown
To the wrinkles that crack me
To the pounds that weigh me down
May time pass quickly and busily
And new love come soon to soothe and swoon
Who you are is who you were
and who you will be someday too
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Uncle Andy
My uncle, Andy Caire (above), died September 1st. He died in his sleep after a brief illness. Andy was the youngest of three boys, my dad's youngest brother. He was an artist, most accomplished with sculptures, I believe. He was a marksman, connoisseur of rifles and southwest history. Lived for many years in Lubbock, Texas. Most recently he moved to Williamsburg, Virginia, where he worked as a smith in the historical village. Andy was a big guy, deep voiced, wore a very long ponytail and a mustache with curved handlebars. He was a lover of dogs. In Williamsburg he often sat on his porch with his dog, Wally, as other residents passed walking their dogs and gave out dog treats to them. One of my earliest memories of visiting Uncle Andy was seeing his St. Bernard named Buck, and we were small enough to ride on Buck like a horse. As I mentioned, Andy was an unofficial historian of southwest U.S. history. He had an incredible personal library dedicated to the subject. He was a member of rifle team in college at Texas Tech, and I remember visiting his home in Lubbock and seeing his personal awards for marksmanship, such as a seven of hearts card with one heart in the corner shot out from something like 50 yards. In my apartment I have several small desktop sculptures that he has made throughout the years. Uncle Andy always remembered our birthdays, sending us a yearly check for $20, written with his distinctive small handwriting. And he always gave my mom such beautiful Christmas gifts to make her home more beautiful, even after the divorce.
I must say I feel a certain kinship with Uncle Andy, being the youngest of three boy, single, and kinda artsy at times. In fact, my dad will sometimes accidentally call me Andy while talking. I think I carry on his sarcastic and sardonic sense of humor, as well as perhaps an extended bachelorhood. Unfortunately there is much more to him than I will know. And his life ended fast and early, though relatively painless and easy given the circumstances. Please remember my grandparents, my dad, my Uncle Beau, and the rest of our family in your thoughts, as well as all of Andy's friends and coworkers in Williamsburg.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Disco-Cyborg Takeover
From Rolling Stone Issue 1035
Sep 20, 2007
by Joe Levy
In the third week of August, a new Britney Spears song surfaced briefly online, a ballad so negligible it may have been a demo. It was suprisingly stripped of digital processing, leaving Britney's voice completely exposed, and it soon disappeared, only to be replaced by the first single of her comeback campaign, "Gimme More." This was business as usual, with the same mechanized Ann-Margret purr she's used from the beginning and lyrics that equate the gaze of the crowd and the cameras with sex. Is it too unkind to point out it sounds just like Justin Timberlake's "Sexyback," but without the hooks? And is it even unkinder to point out its intentional provocations weren't nearly as shocking as the ballad that had leaked a week before?
What made that ballad so can't-look-away strange was hearing a vocal free of Auto-Tune, the pitch correction software that defines pop music today. You know the sound of Auto-Tune, at least pushed to its limits, when it produces the vocoder-like robotic vocals of T-Pain's "Buy U a Drank" and other summer ubiquities such as Rihanna's "Umbrella" or Sean Kingston's "Beautiful Girls." All of them deploy the digital efect that comes when vocals are tuned too tight, a quavering disco-cyborg melisma that's become the keynote of so much of the Top Forty.
Auto-Tune is infamous for making possible careers that would never exist without it, allowing the turd polishing (as producers call it) that can turn the wee-packaged mediocre singers into stars. But used sparingly, it allows producers to seamlessly correct flat or sharp notes--literally to pull them in line with the proper pitch on a computer display--and it's likely that most of what you hear today is pitch corrected in one place or another. Not because the vocalists can't sing--because they can't sing perfectly. "Auto-Tune is like the fake tits of the music industry," says one producer. That is, it both creates and fulfills inhuman standards of beauty.
Auto-Tune is nothing new, and neither is that disco-cyborg effect, which powered Cher's "Believe" nine years ago. There's no more sense in complaining that it's fake than there was in bitching about drum machines twenty years ago. But it dominates the current moment, for better and worse. It merges the singer and the track, reducing everything to technology, which is perfect for ringtones or music on YouTube. It has its uses. But it rarely sustains more than a song. Try listening to Rihanna's entire album (which has sold sluggishly, despite a massive hit single) and you'll soon know thte truth of the philosophy limned by Justin Timberlake in the hook of 50 Cent's new single: "I'm tired of using technology/Why don't you sit down on top of me?" Sometimes, you want the human touch, even if it's a wobbly Britney vocal no one was ever supposed to hear.
Sep 20, 2007
by Joe Levy
In the third week of August, a new Britney Spears song surfaced briefly online, a ballad so negligible it may have been a demo. It was suprisingly stripped of digital processing, leaving Britney's voice completely exposed, and it soon disappeared, only to be replaced by the first single of her comeback campaign, "Gimme More." This was business as usual, with the same mechanized Ann-Margret purr she's used from the beginning and lyrics that equate the gaze of the crowd and the cameras with sex. Is it too unkind to point out it sounds just like Justin Timberlake's "Sexyback," but without the hooks? And is it even unkinder to point out its intentional provocations weren't nearly as shocking as the ballad that had leaked a week before?
What made that ballad so can't-look-away strange was hearing a vocal free of Auto-Tune, the pitch correction software that defines pop music today. You know the sound of Auto-Tune, at least pushed to its limits, when it produces the vocoder-like robotic vocals of T-Pain's "Buy U a Drank" and other summer ubiquities such as Rihanna's "Umbrella" or Sean Kingston's "Beautiful Girls." All of them deploy the digital efect that comes when vocals are tuned too tight, a quavering disco-cyborg melisma that's become the keynote of so much of the Top Forty.
Auto-Tune is infamous for making possible careers that would never exist without it, allowing the turd polishing (as producers call it) that can turn the wee-packaged mediocre singers into stars. But used sparingly, it allows producers to seamlessly correct flat or sharp notes--literally to pull them in line with the proper pitch on a computer display--and it's likely that most of what you hear today is pitch corrected in one place or another. Not because the vocalists can't sing--because they can't sing perfectly. "Auto-Tune is like the fake tits of the music industry," says one producer. That is, it both creates and fulfills inhuman standards of beauty.
Auto-Tune is nothing new, and neither is that disco-cyborg effect, which powered Cher's "Believe" nine years ago. There's no more sense in complaining that it's fake than there was in bitching about drum machines twenty years ago. But it dominates the current moment, for better and worse. It merges the singer and the track, reducing everything to technology, which is perfect for ringtones or music on YouTube. It has its uses. But it rarely sustains more than a song. Try listening to Rihanna's entire album (which has sold sluggishly, despite a massive hit single) and you'll soon know thte truth of the philosophy limned by Justin Timberlake in the hook of 50 Cent's new single: "I'm tired of using technology/Why don't you sit down on top of me?" Sometimes, you want the human touch, even if it's a wobbly Britney vocal no one was ever supposed to hear.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Blame it on global warming!!
What ever happened to old fashioned heat waves? Rainy seasons? These days, it seems to me like every environmental abnormality is being blamed on global warming. Perhaps the wild fires are worse now because trees are drier because of global warming. Maybe someone will find a link between autism and melting ice caps.
Here's an article that highlights some of my own thoughts about this new-found gusto for environmentalism...
Prius Preening
Is my hybrid turning my kids into eco-snobs?
By Emily Bazelon
Updated Thursday, July 12, 2007, at 4:24 PM ET
On an average Saturday morning, there are five blue Toyota Priuses in the parking lot of our synagogue. I know because my children count them, starting with ours. They could do this with any popular item they own, of course (not that they have too many chances in our late-adapting household). But their hybrid love made me cringe last week, when the New York Times ran a story about the success of the Prius (purchase required), and I saw myself in it.
Why are Prius sales surging when other hybrids are slumping, the Times asked? Because buyers "want everyone to know they are driving a hybrid." According to a marketing survey (which the Times ran in a graphic I couldn't hide from), more buyers bought the Prius this year because it "makes a statement about me" (57 percent) than because of its better gas mileage (36 percent) or lower carbon dioxide emissions (25 percent) or new technology (7 percent).
If I'm being honest, I'd answer "all of the above" in response to that survey. It also made me worry about how my kids perceive our family Prius ownership. Do they think we're doing our small bit to save the Earth, or are they imbibing a look-at-me smugness?
This is a problem that can arise in many contexts—nationalism and religion spring to mind. There's a fine line between pride in one's identity and unearned moral superiority. But environmentalism has particular pitfalls. One's salvation from sin doesn't depend on anyone else's salvation, not directly. But one's salvation from global warming does. My air conditioning is cooling off my house and heating up your planet.
Kids get this, I think. They also get that grown-ups think the matter urgent. It's a hard lesson to miss when we're surrounded by a doomsday culture spawned by fears of global warming. On Earth Day, my son's first-grade class learned about saving Dear Mother Earth by recycling and conserving water and, yes, telling other people to do those things (starting at home with their families). Don't get me wrong: I'm all for Eli turning off lights and telling his younger brother, Simon, to quit blasting the hot water. I'm also all for Al Gore sounding the alarm to adults. But the mass death threat lurking in kid-aimed lessons about climate change reminds me of the antinuclear propaganda I grew up with in the 1980s. Remember The Day After? I don't think my 7-year-old and 4-year-old really need exposure to end-of-the-world scenarios. I've read them the 1971 The Lorax lots of times, but one later Seuss title we don't own is the Cold War allegory The Butter Battle Book.
Scare tactics and smugness will not win the day for the planet. Thomas Friedman makes this point well with his proposed motto, "Green is the new red, white and blue." He argues that going green should be "capitalistic and patriotic," an ethos that belongs to Kansas as much as to the liberal precincts of Washington, D.C., and San Francisco. If environmentalism remains the snooty project of the Pious Prius Brigade, then my kids and your kids, or their kids or grandkids, will be moving to Greenland.
Following Friedman, I want to make sure Eli and Simon never utter the kid version of the sort of overbearing environmentalism exemplified by this New Yorker quote: "I do daily yoga with my wife. We live in an energy-efficient house with solar-panel appliances. We use organic linens and towels. We try to ride bikes to work." Don't you want to punch this guy? I do. I thought of him a couple of weekends ago when we went on a family camping trip. In the middle of a clear West Virginia stream, some of our fellow campers soaped up, shampoo and all, with nary a thought, seemingly, to the chemicals they were injecting straight into the water. Eli looked at them and then at my husband and me. "Those people shouldn't be doing that!" he said. "We should stop them, shouldn't we?" We shook our heads and told him to keep his voice down, and while I can't quite remember what we said, I hope it was some halfway coherent explanation about how sometimes you just have to let other people be.
At the same time, when kids feel the pull of a powerful family ethic—a strong belief in its own way of doing things—that's a thing to behold. We know a 14-year-old who is a strict and committed vegetarian. He believes that it's wrong to kill animals to eat them, and he converted his parents and his two brothers to eating His Way. There's real force to their collective choice to respect and live out his principles, and a kind of beauty, too. I've written before about trying to inculcate a countercultural family ethic. I'm still committed. And, in our house, some greeniness is part of it. Last winter, when we decided to buy our first new car in 13 years, I was editing the Slate Green Challenge. My husband does environmental work for a living. It seemed ridiculous not to take the biggest chance we had to reduce the family carbon count—and the tax break we got from D.C. was nice, too.
Also—and here's where the "making a statement" part comes in—neither of us really wanted to drive a minivan, our other logical option, given the many-kid carpools in our future. This feeling was tied to green values, sure, but it was also about an aesthetic: avoiding, for now, becoming a minivan mom.
I like our Prius. It's quiet and easy to park. It's averaging gas mileage of 43.4 miles per gallon, not off the charts by any means, but significantly better than the car we traded in for it. Eli and Simon enjoy watching the small video screen on the dashboard, which shows the car's relative use of electricity and gas at any given moment (at least I think that's what it's doing). We all like that hip feeling that comes with other people asking questions about a new product you've decided to make your own.
So far, I'm happy to say, the kids don't seem to have jumped from Prius pleasure to Prius preening. When Eli spotted yet another blue one on the road yesterday, he asked why the car is so popular. I couldn't resist annoyingly answering with, "Why do you think it is?"
Silence in the back seat.
"Well, why did we get one?" I prompted.
More silence, then in a small voice, "So we won't poison the air."
I launched into Gore speak: We're still driving, so we're still poisoning the air, except that actually we're not poisoning it, since carbon dioxide isn't poison, but, yes, we'd gotten the car to help at least a little bit with global warming. I took a breath so I could continue with my explanation, when Simon cut me off.
"I know why we got it," he said. "Because the old green car smelled bad."
Good answer.
Here's an article that highlights some of my own thoughts about this new-found gusto for environmentalism...
Prius Preening
Is my hybrid turning my kids into eco-snobs?
By Emily Bazelon
Updated Thursday, July 12, 2007, at 4:24 PM ET
On an average Saturday morning, there are five blue Toyota Priuses in the parking lot of our synagogue. I know because my children count them, starting with ours. They could do this with any popular item they own, of course (not that they have too many chances in our late-adapting household). But their hybrid love made me cringe last week, when the New York Times ran a story about the success of the Prius (purchase required), and I saw myself in it.
Why are Prius sales surging when other hybrids are slumping, the Times asked? Because buyers "want everyone to know they are driving a hybrid." According to a marketing survey (which the Times ran in a graphic I couldn't hide from), more buyers bought the Prius this year because it "makes a statement about me" (57 percent) than because of its better gas mileage (36 percent) or lower carbon dioxide emissions (25 percent) or new technology (7 percent).
If I'm being honest, I'd answer "all of the above" in response to that survey. It also made me worry about how my kids perceive our family Prius ownership. Do they think we're doing our small bit to save the Earth, or are they imbibing a look-at-me smugness?
This is a problem that can arise in many contexts—nationalism and religion spring to mind. There's a fine line between pride in one's identity and unearned moral superiority. But environmentalism has particular pitfalls. One's salvation from sin doesn't depend on anyone else's salvation, not directly. But one's salvation from global warming does. My air conditioning is cooling off my house and heating up your planet.
Kids get this, I think. They also get that grown-ups think the matter urgent. It's a hard lesson to miss when we're surrounded by a doomsday culture spawned by fears of global warming. On Earth Day, my son's first-grade class learned about saving Dear Mother Earth by recycling and conserving water and, yes, telling other people to do those things (starting at home with their families). Don't get me wrong: I'm all for Eli turning off lights and telling his younger brother, Simon, to quit blasting the hot water. I'm also all for Al Gore sounding the alarm to adults. But the mass death threat lurking in kid-aimed lessons about climate change reminds me of the antinuclear propaganda I grew up with in the 1980s. Remember The Day After? I don't think my 7-year-old and 4-year-old really need exposure to end-of-the-world scenarios. I've read them the 1971 The Lorax lots of times, but one later Seuss title we don't own is the Cold War allegory The Butter Battle Book.
Scare tactics and smugness will not win the day for the planet. Thomas Friedman makes this point well with his proposed motto, "Green is the new red, white and blue." He argues that going green should be "capitalistic and patriotic," an ethos that belongs to Kansas as much as to the liberal precincts of Washington, D.C., and San Francisco. If environmentalism remains the snooty project of the Pious Prius Brigade, then my kids and your kids, or their kids or grandkids, will be moving to Greenland.
Following Friedman, I want to make sure Eli and Simon never utter the kid version of the sort of overbearing environmentalism exemplified by this New Yorker quote: "I do daily yoga with my wife. We live in an energy-efficient house with solar-panel appliances. We use organic linens and towels. We try to ride bikes to work." Don't you want to punch this guy? I do. I thought of him a couple of weekends ago when we went on a family camping trip. In the middle of a clear West Virginia stream, some of our fellow campers soaped up, shampoo and all, with nary a thought, seemingly, to the chemicals they were injecting straight into the water. Eli looked at them and then at my husband and me. "Those people shouldn't be doing that!" he said. "We should stop them, shouldn't we?" We shook our heads and told him to keep his voice down, and while I can't quite remember what we said, I hope it was some halfway coherent explanation about how sometimes you just have to let other people be.
At the same time, when kids feel the pull of a powerful family ethic—a strong belief in its own way of doing things—that's a thing to behold. We know a 14-year-old who is a strict and committed vegetarian. He believes that it's wrong to kill animals to eat them, and he converted his parents and his two brothers to eating His Way. There's real force to their collective choice to respect and live out his principles, and a kind of beauty, too. I've written before about trying to inculcate a countercultural family ethic. I'm still committed. And, in our house, some greeniness is part of it. Last winter, when we decided to buy our first new car in 13 years, I was editing the Slate Green Challenge. My husband does environmental work for a living. It seemed ridiculous not to take the biggest chance we had to reduce the family carbon count—and the tax break we got from D.C. was nice, too.
Also—and here's where the "making a statement" part comes in—neither of us really wanted to drive a minivan, our other logical option, given the many-kid carpools in our future. This feeling was tied to green values, sure, but it was also about an aesthetic: avoiding, for now, becoming a minivan mom.
I like our Prius. It's quiet and easy to park. It's averaging gas mileage of 43.4 miles per gallon, not off the charts by any means, but significantly better than the car we traded in for it. Eli and Simon enjoy watching the small video screen on the dashboard, which shows the car's relative use of electricity and gas at any given moment (at least I think that's what it's doing). We all like that hip feeling that comes with other people asking questions about a new product you've decided to make your own.
So far, I'm happy to say, the kids don't seem to have jumped from Prius pleasure to Prius preening. When Eli spotted yet another blue one on the road yesterday, he asked why the car is so popular. I couldn't resist annoyingly answering with, "Why do you think it is?"
Silence in the back seat.
"Well, why did we get one?" I prompted.
More silence, then in a small voice, "So we won't poison the air."
I launched into Gore speak: We're still driving, so we're still poisoning the air, except that actually we're not poisoning it, since carbon dioxide isn't poison, but, yes, we'd gotten the car to help at least a little bit with global warming. I took a breath so I could continue with my explanation, when Simon cut me off.
"I know why we got it," he said. "Because the old green car smelled bad."
Good answer.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Imus
This is an editorial by sports columnist Jason Whitlock of the Kansas City Star, who, if you can't tell in the article, is a black man.
Imus isn’t the real bad guy
By JASON WHITLOCK - Columnist
Thank you, Don Imus. You’ve given us (black people) an excuse to avoid our real problem.
You’ve given Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson another opportunity to pretend that the old fight, which is now the safe and lucrative fight, is still the most important fight in our push for true economic and social equality.
You’ve given Vivian Stringer and Rutgers the chance to hold a nationally televised recruiting celebration expertly disguised as a news conference to respond to your poor attempt at humor.
Thank you, Don Imus. You extended Black History Month to April, and we can once again wallow in victimhood, protest like it’s 1965 and delude ourselves into believing that fixing your hatred is more necessary than eradicating our self-hatred.
The bigots win again.
While we’re fixated on a bad joke cracked by an irrelevant, bad shock jock, I’m sure at least one of the marvelous young women on the Rutgers basketball team is somewhere snapping her fingers to the beat of 50 Cent’s or Snoop Dogg’s or Young Jeezy’s latest ode glorifying nappy-headed pimps and hos.
I ain’t saying Jesse, Al and Vivian are gold-diggas, but they don’t have the heart to mount a legitimate campaign against the real black-folk killas.
It is us. At this time, we are our own worst enemies. We have allowed our youths to buy into a culture (hip hop) that has been perverted, corrupted and overtaken by prison culture. The music, attitude and behavior expressed in this culture is anti-black, anti-education, demeaning, self-destructive, pro-drug dealing and violent.
Rather than confront this heinous enemy from within, we sit back and wait for someone like Imus to have a slip of the tongue and make the mistake of repeating the things we say about ourselves.
It’s embarrassing. Dave Chappelle was offered $50 million to make racially insensitive jokes about black and white people on TV. He was hailed as a genius. Black comedians routinely crack jokes about white and black people, and we all laugh out loud.
I’m no Don Imus apologist. He and his tiny companion Mike Lupica blasted me after I fell out with ESPN. Imus is a hack.
But, in my view, he didn’t do anything outside the norm for shock jocks and comedians. He also offered an apology. That should’ve been the end of this whole affair. Instead, it’s only the beginning. It’s an opportunity for Stringer, Jackson and Sharpton to step on victim platforms and elevate themselves and their agenda$.
I watched the Rutgers news conference and was ashamed.
Martin Luther King Jr. spoke for eight minutes in 1963 at the March on Washington. At the time, black people could be lynched and denied fundamental rights with little thought. With the comments of a talk-show host most of her players had never heard of before last week serving as her excuse, Vivian Stringer rambled on for 30 minutes about the amazing season her team had.
Somehow, we’re supposed to believe that the comments of a man with virtually no connection to the sports world ruined Rutgers’ wonderful season. Had a broadcaster with credibility and a platform in the sports world uttered the words Imus did, I could understand a level of outrage.
But an hourlong press conference over a man who has already apologized, already been suspended and is already insignificant is just plain intellectually dishonest. This is opportunism. This is a distraction.
In the grand scheme, Don Imus is no threat to us in general and no threat to black women in particular. If his words are so powerful and so destructive and must be rebuked so forcefully, then what should we do about the idiot rappers on BET, MTV and every black-owned radio station in the country who use words much more powerful and much more destructive?
I don’t listen or watch Imus’ show regularly. Has he at any point glorified selling crack cocaine to black women? Has he celebrated black men shooting each other randomly? Has he suggested in any way that it’s cool to be a baby-daddy rather than a husband and a parent? Does he tell his listeners that they’re suckers for pursuing education and that they’re selling out their race if they do?
When Imus does any of that, call me and I’ll get upset. Until then, he is what he is — a washed-up shock jock who is very easy to ignore when you’re not looking to be made a victim.
No. We all know where the real battleground is. We know that the gangsta rappers and their followers in the athletic world have far bigger platforms to negatively define us than some old white man with a bad radio show. There’s no money and lots of danger in that battle, so Jesse and Al are going to sit it out.
Imus isn’t the real bad guy
By JASON WHITLOCK - Columnist
Thank you, Don Imus. You’ve given us (black people) an excuse to avoid our real problem.
You’ve given Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson another opportunity to pretend that the old fight, which is now the safe and lucrative fight, is still the most important fight in our push for true economic and social equality.
You’ve given Vivian Stringer and Rutgers the chance to hold a nationally televised recruiting celebration expertly disguised as a news conference to respond to your poor attempt at humor.
Thank you, Don Imus. You extended Black History Month to April, and we can once again wallow in victimhood, protest like it’s 1965 and delude ourselves into believing that fixing your hatred is more necessary than eradicating our self-hatred.
The bigots win again.
While we’re fixated on a bad joke cracked by an irrelevant, bad shock jock, I’m sure at least one of the marvelous young women on the Rutgers basketball team is somewhere snapping her fingers to the beat of 50 Cent’s or Snoop Dogg’s or Young Jeezy’s latest ode glorifying nappy-headed pimps and hos.
I ain’t saying Jesse, Al and Vivian are gold-diggas, but they don’t have the heart to mount a legitimate campaign against the real black-folk killas.
It is us. At this time, we are our own worst enemies. We have allowed our youths to buy into a culture (hip hop) that has been perverted, corrupted and overtaken by prison culture. The music, attitude and behavior expressed in this culture is anti-black, anti-education, demeaning, self-destructive, pro-drug dealing and violent.
Rather than confront this heinous enemy from within, we sit back and wait for someone like Imus to have a slip of the tongue and make the mistake of repeating the things we say about ourselves.
It’s embarrassing. Dave Chappelle was offered $50 million to make racially insensitive jokes about black and white people on TV. He was hailed as a genius. Black comedians routinely crack jokes about white and black people, and we all laugh out loud.
I’m no Don Imus apologist. He and his tiny companion Mike Lupica blasted me after I fell out with ESPN. Imus is a hack.
But, in my view, he didn’t do anything outside the norm for shock jocks and comedians. He also offered an apology. That should’ve been the end of this whole affair. Instead, it’s only the beginning. It’s an opportunity for Stringer, Jackson and Sharpton to step on victim platforms and elevate themselves and their agenda$.
I watched the Rutgers news conference and was ashamed.
Martin Luther King Jr. spoke for eight minutes in 1963 at the March on Washington. At the time, black people could be lynched and denied fundamental rights with little thought. With the comments of a talk-show host most of her players had never heard of before last week serving as her excuse, Vivian Stringer rambled on for 30 minutes about the amazing season her team had.
Somehow, we’re supposed to believe that the comments of a man with virtually no connection to the sports world ruined Rutgers’ wonderful season. Had a broadcaster with credibility and a platform in the sports world uttered the words Imus did, I could understand a level of outrage.
But an hourlong press conference over a man who has already apologized, already been suspended and is already insignificant is just plain intellectually dishonest. This is opportunism. This is a distraction.
In the grand scheme, Don Imus is no threat to us in general and no threat to black women in particular. If his words are so powerful and so destructive and must be rebuked so forcefully, then what should we do about the idiot rappers on BET, MTV and every black-owned radio station in the country who use words much more powerful and much more destructive?
I don’t listen or watch Imus’ show regularly. Has he at any point glorified selling crack cocaine to black women? Has he celebrated black men shooting each other randomly? Has he suggested in any way that it’s cool to be a baby-daddy rather than a husband and a parent? Does he tell his listeners that they’re suckers for pursuing education and that they’re selling out their race if they do?
When Imus does any of that, call me and I’ll get upset. Until then, he is what he is — a washed-up shock jock who is very easy to ignore when you’re not looking to be made a victim.
No. We all know where the real battleground is. We know that the gangsta rappers and their followers in the athletic world have far bigger platforms to negatively define us than some old white man with a bad radio show. There’s no money and lots of danger in that battle, so Jesse and Al are going to sit it out.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Please Pray
...for my good friend whose little 1yr old boy is in a hospital with a lung problem...he's been in the hospital too long during his short life...prior to this he was a sweet quiet little boy with flushed, ruddy cheeks...now his disease has made him far too quiet...please pray for his momma too, who has had to bear so much burden...pray for healing, and if not healing, then peace beyond all understanding...thank you
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Thursday, March 01, 2007
I AM SPECIAL
Inspired by this article: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/17349066/?GT1=9145
Fueled by my own thoughts...
Among the phenomena of my generation, as well as the next one which is teens and college students, is this notion of being suuuuuper special. That everyone has a right to their dream, to their ideal, to perfection, to never settle. While I think this is okay to a degree, I find that it can plague a person's life to be perpetually unsatisfactory, that the goals they are striving for are just not fair to themselves and their failure to achieve leaves them sad and wanting.
An example I see today is these silly American Idol auditions, where the auditioner is really just not that good by almost all accounts. The judges tell her she's not going to Hollywood, and she throws a fit (loud or quiet) and says things like, "I'm never going to give up on my dream," or, "This will only make me stronger and I'm never going to stop."
Well, maybe they should stop. When do we draw the line on chasing the dream vs spinning the wheels?
I had a patient the other day who I decided to ask what she wanted to do in the future for a job. (unusual small talk) She said she wanted to get into law, then become a federal judge. I commended her on her aspirations, and asked where she was in school. This 20 year old was not in school, was beginning courses at a local junior college, and aspired to "law classes" at a local university.
Now...I'm 30, and if I got the notion that I wanted to be surgeon general or something, I know it's already too late for all that stuff. These offices and dreams are long in the making for the people who arrive there. And, better or worse, there's often a pedigree one must have that often does not include junior college and a few years languishing in your early twenties. So I found it funny that this girl thought being a federal attorney was completely achievable if you just "set your mind to it."
Maybe we need to encourage less single-mindedness. We should encourage the periphery. Just because you want to, you are HIGHLY likely not to become a superstar entertainer. And maybe you should call off the dream. Or maybe just readjust it. Even the finalists on American Idol will make a living, but they won't be superstars. And eventually most of them will retire from entertainment and pursue a different life. So what makes you think that, if you're rejected early on in the process that you should "get stronger," and pursue this even harder? Just because you want to? Because you wanna be a star?
It is not a right to become highly successful. Yes, we hear stories of the self-made millionaires and celebrities who were down on their luck and had a breakthrough. But the problem is in expectation.
The word "passion" means "suffering." When you tell me music is your passion, don't confuse yourself because it is simply what is fun for you. If it is your passion, then it brings suffering to you. You will suffer anything to do music in any shape or form. You will suffer to try to find your niche, whatever that is. And that is certainly different than expecting success to come to you just because you want it.
Fueled by my own thoughts...
Among the phenomena of my generation, as well as the next one which is teens and college students, is this notion of being suuuuuper special. That everyone has a right to their dream, to their ideal, to perfection, to never settle. While I think this is okay to a degree, I find that it can plague a person's life to be perpetually unsatisfactory, that the goals they are striving for are just not fair to themselves and their failure to achieve leaves them sad and wanting.
An example I see today is these silly American Idol auditions, where the auditioner is really just not that good by almost all accounts. The judges tell her she's not going to Hollywood, and she throws a fit (loud or quiet) and says things like, "I'm never going to give up on my dream," or, "This will only make me stronger and I'm never going to stop."
Well, maybe they should stop. When do we draw the line on chasing the dream vs spinning the wheels?
I had a patient the other day who I decided to ask what she wanted to do in the future for a job. (unusual small talk) She said she wanted to get into law, then become a federal judge. I commended her on her aspirations, and asked where she was in school. This 20 year old was not in school, was beginning courses at a local junior college, and aspired to "law classes" at a local university.
Now...I'm 30, and if I got the notion that I wanted to be surgeon general or something, I know it's already too late for all that stuff. These offices and dreams are long in the making for the people who arrive there. And, better or worse, there's often a pedigree one must have that often does not include junior college and a few years languishing in your early twenties. So I found it funny that this girl thought being a federal attorney was completely achievable if you just "set your mind to it."
Maybe we need to encourage less single-mindedness. We should encourage the periphery. Just because you want to, you are HIGHLY likely not to become a superstar entertainer. And maybe you should call off the dream. Or maybe just readjust it. Even the finalists on American Idol will make a living, but they won't be superstars. And eventually most of them will retire from entertainment and pursue a different life. So what makes you think that, if you're rejected early on in the process that you should "get stronger," and pursue this even harder? Just because you want to? Because you wanna be a star?
It is not a right to become highly successful. Yes, we hear stories of the self-made millionaires and celebrities who were down on their luck and had a breakthrough. But the problem is in expectation.
The word "passion" means "suffering." When you tell me music is your passion, don't confuse yourself because it is simply what is fun for you. If it is your passion, then it brings suffering to you. You will suffer anything to do music in any shape or form. You will suffer to try to find your niche, whatever that is. And that is certainly different than expecting success to come to you just because you want it.
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