The esoteric search for the holy grail

The title of this post is from a humanities class I took. This class was a colossal waste of time. However, most things are not entirely good or entirely bad and there was one discussion that has stuck with me. This was our discussion of heroes. Our teacher told us that one of the defining characteristics of a hero is what he called a "divine wound". This was an injury that made the hero both stronger and weaker and was also the impetus for the classic hero's journey of self-discovery. Initially I was skeptical but consider superman, batman, and Spiderman. Superman's wound was the loss of his parents and life among his people. Additionally, kryptonite from the heart of krypton is Superman’s one real weakness. However, it was this loss that made Superman super. Living on earth and absorbing rays of yellow sun is what gives him his power. I'll let you think about batman and Spiderman but trust me it works. So it seems that some heroes are heroes because of the way they deal with personal tragedy; growing stronger because of it rather than letting it weaken them. Guess it is that whole lemons to lemonade deal on a more dramatic scale.

You are nice

I look back fondly on my elementary school days. I enjoyed jumping off of swings and playing vicious games of foursquare. Amongst the happy memories is a darker one. The assignment would begin as all the others; put your name at the top of the page. Then to my horror we passed the paper to the kid next to us and were instructed to compliment them. Somehow I have never really gotten over the irony of forcing kids to praise everyone. Think, "You’re special; just like everyone else". I managed to figure out something to say for all the other kids that was at least mildly positive, probably something like "good luck with the paste eating". I will admit that, was a little excited to see what the other kids had said, forgetting that they were coerced to be complimentary. I read through my paper and discovered a general theme. At least half of the comments consisted of "you are nice" or a variation on the theme. This firmly established me as one of the nice guys. Growing up in the public school system, I discovered that while being nice wasn't too bad in elementary school it was essentially the kiss of death in middle school and high school. I haven't decided on college yet but the results thus far are discouraging. I watched as girls paid attention to guys that were jerks. I also watched as time and again the squeaky wheel got the oil, rather than the punch in the face I would have thought fitting. I really am nice, but even nice people have their limits. I guess what I saying is mean people suck. Meanness should be treated like leprosy where mean people would be forced to live in colonies with one another. Then they could shout "Unkind!" if a nice person was to wander too close. Think about it.

This was about my reaction to my new job.

Our economy: A product of miscommunication

I started work today at a mortgage company. I must admit my job is not what you would call "challenging". My main responsibility consists of taking a folder with two separate piles and rearranging them to form one pile in a specific order. If you think reading about it is great just imagine doing it for eight hours! Another employee pointed out today that if the companies submitting paperwork to us would simply use the same order as we do it would make things easier. It occurred to me that it would eliminate my job, thus it seems my job is a result of two groups unable to decide what forms go where. Later I realized that there are a larger number of jobs geared towards this gap or lack of communication. Psychologists, counselors especially marriage counselors, political cartoonists, and psychics all seem to tap into this whole miscommunication market. Then I considered the process I've come to know as McDonaldization (not my term though I would claim it) by which processes, especially human processes, become dehumanized. As humans become increasingly exposed to dehumanized interactions, we gradually lose what we might call our social graces, think engineers. I don't think it is a real stretch to conclude that, the less we interact in human conditions the worse we become with such situations and from that comes miscommunication. So from what I see as the world becomes more and more dehumanized the economy will only grow in the areas related to miscommunication. So yes, the science fiction writers had it right all along, machines will rule the world. The twist is that we will be those robots. Make a difference. Talk to your cashier, save humanity! People say that hydrogen is the most plentiful element in the universe. Personally, I have to vote for ignorance.

Why is this here? Because cartoons stave off responsibility, old age, and lackluster lifestyles.

Concerts and a special brand of insanity

I am, as my profile attests, a big fan of Jimmy Eat World. In fact today I just purchased the Futures album. Mmmm musical goodness. I mean how can you not like a band with lyrics like these: "I'm not alone cause the TV's on yeah. I'm not crazy cause I take the right pills everyday." These lines come aptly from a song entitled Bleed American. If you don't know why that's fitting then I really can't help you. Okay so I could, but I don't help your kind. So given my predisposition to the music of J.E.W (are they trying to tell us something) I thought twenty bucks was a good deal to see them perform live. Such was not the case. I went to the concert with the intent to listen to Jimmy Eat World. Apparently, people don't go to concerts to listen to a band. As I observed it people were primarily involved in sneaking onto the floor, talking or rather shouting to their friends, or simply creating noise in one unintelligent form or another. Somehow it seems counterintuitive to make a lot of noise during your "favorite" songs since your own incoherent utterances would impede you from hearing the music. Perhaps, I am more sensitive to this as I am very attentive to lyrics. In the end, I've decided I'm better off to use my twenty bucks on a cd. No masses of crazed fans, no distractions, no insanity.

Call me Ishmael

Squitchy is a word near and dear to my heart. The first time I ever saw the word squitchy was in a first edition of Moby Dick. It is entirely possible that it is used in other editions but that's not the point. A painting in the book is described as being squitchy. It is also described as a sort of blackish-gray mass depicting a shipwreck as I recall. In the end I have an idea of what the word squitchy means but not a definitive answer. The closest I can come is that if a picture is squitchy it is the sort of thing that you have to squint and concentrate to figure out exactly what it is. I thought it appropriate. Chances are if you are reading this you know me already and I've shamelessly directed here in an attempt to wow you with my linguistic skills. After all girls like guys with skills, Bo staff, tetherball, or otherwise. As a suggestion, read each of these posts fully expecting to loathe and despise each and every word I write, then when you don't hate every word (for example, perhaps you're partial to pariah, delusional, or inconsequential) I've exceeded your expectations. So the moral of the story is set your sights low and you'll always hit the dirt you're aiming for. Thusly begins the blog, and yes, thusly is a word.