The elusive now, always is, yet never was. It's not now if it was. If now was, it would be then. So, now never was, and it never would be. Now is. (...and always will be???) No. Now will not always be, because then it would be.
When my brain is on overdrive trying to comprehend something like this, I like to look to Spaceballs for Mel Brooks' near-infinite wisdom: When will then be now? Soon...
The harder I try to freeze my experience, to grasp my thought, to stick a pin through it and put it in a display case, the quicker it seems to evaporate into a hollow corpse. As I peruse my collection of brittle exoskeletons of past perceptions, I can only fumble clumsily with the distinct and defunct parts, purposes, circumstances, and emotional consequences in a rather objective attempt to recreate the actual experience. But all that does is cast a shadow on the moment I think of it; a sprinkle of another ingredient into the stew of who I am immediately: an ever-thickening and ripening soup sloshing and sliding in a stretching and morphing elastic bag precariously balancing on top of my head, constantly, fluidly persuading the direction I look and swim through material existence.
This baggage, this weight, this momentum, this compulsion into the direction of the future that becomes the present, constantly assimilates each new perception, experience, and thought into what I think, who I think I am. Structure, routine, and dogged habits are the accouterments I subconsciously use to sever my seemingly fruitless effort of perpetual self-perception. Even trying to put this pursuit of embracing the infinitely slippery now into words is in itself a distraction. I feel I can't stop thinking about it...so I think that if I try to break it down, rationalize it, chunk it up into metaphors, visually and kinetically drill it into the part of me that answers questions and solves problems...I think that will explain it. That will make it make sense. But as soon as I start doing that, I start letting the machine of me assign a rigid function to each aspect of my analysis...and here I am, left looking at an empty shell. An inadequately designed, powerless, hollow robot: with each part hastily hung from a flimsy hook to merely physically resemble one word of the guttural expulsion I hoped could help me understand what it is I thought I found.
And just like that, it's over. It's time to go back to the daily grind. But I'll be here again, soon enough, via a different set of circumstances, with more in my arsenal of analysis to try to pin it down again. Which is obviously the wrong way of going about comprehending existence....
I'd like to do a little research into Zen practices. I'm not going to become Buddhist, but I would like to see how some obviously well-employed practices of attempting to comprehend existence can coincide with Christian doctrines that I've more than likely repeatedly overlooked. It could be something as simply as actually pondering the scriptures, rather than just me saying I'm pondering the scriptures, when really I'm just wondering if the Cardinals' offense has enough firepower to overcome the Steelers' stingy defense.
Learning about belief is good.
28 February 2009
21 February 2009
And Here's Why:
I always feel the need to mathematically, practically, sociologically, or pragmatically explain my reasoning when I share any sort of interesting fact or tidbit or even a joke. For instance: If I were to share the "Coming home from work Friday vs. Going to work Monday" video with anyone, I would feel the need to explain why I think it's so funny: because everyone can relate to it, and it's just so childishly simply, yet there aren't many people who could resist laughing while watching it.
But you didn't need that explanation from me in order to find any humor in the video, in fact, I may have made it less funny by interjecting my primitive analysis of it. Truth is, it's just funny. End of story.
I'm not sure why I have this urge, but I find it quite irresistible. And perhaps this brief post is another example: I feel the need to explain to people why I'm always explaining my reasoning to people.
Hmmmmm...this post will never end if I keep going down that road....better nip it in the bud. But I guess that's what this blog is for: to give me a chance to explain myself. Because God knows I do a dreadfully poor job of it when I actually have to say words, rather than just think and type them.
But you didn't need that explanation from me in order to find any humor in the video, in fact, I may have made it less funny by interjecting my primitive analysis of it. Truth is, it's just funny. End of story.
I'm not sure why I have this urge, but I find it quite irresistible. And perhaps this brief post is another example: I feel the need to explain to people why I'm always explaining my reasoning to people.
Hmmmmm...this post will never end if I keep going down that road....better nip it in the bud. But I guess that's what this blog is for: to give me a chance to explain myself. Because God knows I do a dreadfully poor job of it when I actually have to say words, rather than just think and type them.
14 February 2009
Atulda-muhsez
Used as a universally-accepted admonition of due course in prior correspondence; self-acknowledgement of proffered fair warning or urged caution. This phrase has it's origins in the Midwest, mainly in Wisconsin and Minnesota. Can be used in a variety of forms, functions, and contexts. Examples:
Atulda-muhsez I ain't gonna go nowhere near that dare bar again, hey, if he's gonna keep channel surfing durin' the Price is Right...
Atulda-muhsez: Don't you dare bring that dang dog along to the hardware store again; altuda-muhsez dare gonna start chargin' fer all dem raw-hide bow-uns he sniffs out and tears apart, hey.
Atulda-muhsez, old boy Favre just wouldn'tah looked right in that dare purple jersey.
Atulda-muhsez I ain't gonna go nowhere near that dare bar again, hey, if he's gonna keep channel surfing durin' the Price is Right...
Atulda-muhsez: Don't you dare bring that dang dog along to the hardware store again; altuda-muhsez dare gonna start chargin' fer all dem raw-hide bow-uns he sniffs out and tears apart, hey.
Atulda-muhsez, old boy Favre just wouldn'tah looked right in that dare purple jersey.
11 February 2009
Infinitely massive
The problem I see with traveling faster than the speed of light is that we won't be able to see where we're going.
Bah-doo *crash*
Bah-doo *crash*
05 February 2009
Comedy, seriously.
I recently had the pleasure of watching Saturday Night Live's Best of Chris Farley video in it's entirety. I'm quite sure I've seen it before, and I know I've seen each of the skits several times, but this time, the introduction presented by Tim Meadows at the beginning of the Best of video struck me as alarmingly somber and honest, not a tone normally taken by anyone who has ever been on the cast of SNL.
Obviously, the delivery of this sort introduction is different for someone who has died, especially as sadly and tragically as Farley did, than it is for someone who's still in the prime of their silliness...like Will Farrell, for instance. For some reason, I listened intently and took Tim Meadows seriously this time around. The part of his introduction that stood out the most for me this time was when Tim said that part of the reason why his comedic style was so far-reaching is that, at least sub-consciously, you kinda felt sorry for the guy.
Which takes me to the heart of this post: why is comedy funny? I'm sure there are many complex reasons why several different types of comedy are funny, but I'll explore my thoughts on Chris Farley's self-deprecating, physically audacious style.
There aren't many people that I know that can look at the image above without at least a chuckle. As absurb as it sounds, I'd like to analyze the above fictitious scenario:
Obviously, a fit guy and a fat guy are auditioning for Chippendale's. They both dance, and it's funny to see the fat guy dance because his fat jiggles all over the place. Everybody laughs at the fat flying; end of story, right? Having laughed until my guts cramped up at this skit probably a dozen times before, I was watching this tape in a new, more sympathetic light, taking Tim Meadows' introductory comments seriously. First of all, I'm sure they actually do have auditions for Chippendale's. It may not be in front of a formal panel of judges, but I'm sure you gotta show them your moves (at the very least) before they pay you the big bucks to become part of the meat market. So, the fact that two guys are competing isn't at all far-fetched, in my opinion.
We see Farley imitate Swayze's moves, and Swayze imitate Farley's, and the contrast in body types is hilariously astounding. That being said, if you look at the actual movements, if you were somehow able to ignore Swayze's fit physique and Farley's seemingly out-of-control lard storm, their actual dance moves wouldn't look that tremendously different. You may not be buying that, but if you are ever able/willing to watch the skit again in a more objective light without dying of laughter, you might agree with me. Regardless of the quality of Farley's moves, anyone who has ever weighed near 300 pounds or has been tackled by someone weighing that much must admit that it takes a lot of effort to get that much mass moving the way Farley moves it. At the very least, Farley has the talent/physical ability for very powerful bursts of energy when called upon.
The most interesting part of the skit for me this time around is the dialog that happens after the dancing is done - and after the fat is done flying. Kevin Nealon, who plays the "head judge", goes on to explain, quite frankly, that Chris Farley is not "lean and muscular" but "fat and flabby", which proves that sometimes stating the obvious adds to the humor. Then Nealon explains that they picked Swayze, of course, and they congratulate each other, Swayze goes off into la-la-ego land, as Nealon continues to explain to Farley why they didn't pick him. As Nealon's dialog fades out, you can hear Nealon start to explain about why they even bothered to have Farley audition: because they thought a larger, more realistically-proportioned man might appeal to their older, heavier lady clients. Now this part of the dialog is barely audible above Swayze's egotistical soliloquy, so I found it profoundly interesting that they even bothered keeping in the skit at all. To me, having a heavier dude might actually appeal to some heavier ladies, so that doesn't seem too incredibly far-fetched, either.
So, getting a guy's hopes up for getting a decent (maybe not decent, but at least renown) job only to have them pull it out from under him with the excuse of "you're too fat" just adds to the sympathy, however unconscious, we feel for the guy.
Swayze adds that he wanted to make sure it was just because of his body that he won, because on moves alone, Farley has him beat. I don't know that there wasn't some honesty propped up behind those rehearsed lines by Swayze. He, of all people, knows how much energy and physical ability it takes to move the way dancers need to move, and for him to witness a very large man do some relatively demanding moves must have impressed him.
Anyway, the skit ends with Swayze's soliloquy stating that he never saw Farley again...all the more reason to wonder what happened to the poor guy who bared his flab for a chance at fame, only to be called "fat and flabby".
Many other skits on the tape (DVD, whatever) employ a similar "you feel so bad you gotta laugh" quality, but may have taken his death to realize that we actually did feel sorry for him. So, when we laugh at someone like Farley, are we laughing because we feel sorry for him, or because we have no choice but to laugh? I think it's a little of both.
Obviously, the delivery of this sort introduction is different for someone who has died, especially as sadly and tragically as Farley did, than it is for someone who's still in the prime of their silliness...like Will Farrell, for instance. For some reason, I listened intently and took Tim Meadows seriously this time around. The part of his introduction that stood out the most for me this time was when Tim said that part of the reason why his comedic style was so far-reaching is that, at least sub-consciously, you kinda felt sorry for the guy.
There aren't many people that I know that can look at the image above without at least a chuckle. As absurb as it sounds, I'd like to analyze the above fictitious scenario:
Obviously, a fit guy and a fat guy are auditioning for Chippendale's. They both dance, and it's funny to see the fat guy dance because his fat jiggles all over the place. Everybody laughs at the fat flying; end of story, right? Having laughed until my guts cramped up at this skit probably a dozen times before, I was watching this tape in a new, more sympathetic light, taking Tim Meadows' introductory comments seriously. First of all, I'm sure they actually do have auditions for Chippendale's. It may not be in front of a formal panel of judges, but I'm sure you gotta show them your moves (at the very least) before they pay you the big bucks to become part of the meat market. So, the fact that two guys are competing isn't at all far-fetched, in my opinion.
We see Farley imitate Swayze's moves, and Swayze imitate Farley's, and the contrast in body types is hilariously astounding. That being said, if you look at the actual movements, if you were somehow able to ignore Swayze's fit physique and Farley's seemingly out-of-control lard storm, their actual dance moves wouldn't look that tremendously different. You may not be buying that, but if you are ever able/willing to watch the skit again in a more objective light without dying of laughter, you might agree with me. Regardless of the quality of Farley's moves, anyone who has ever weighed near 300 pounds or has been tackled by someone weighing that much must admit that it takes a lot of effort to get that much mass moving the way Farley moves it. At the very least, Farley has the talent/physical ability for very powerful bursts of energy when called upon.
The most interesting part of the skit for me this time around is the dialog that happens after the dancing is done - and after the fat is done flying. Kevin Nealon, who plays the "head judge", goes on to explain, quite frankly, that Chris Farley is not "lean and muscular" but "fat and flabby", which proves that sometimes stating the obvious adds to the humor. Then Nealon explains that they picked Swayze, of course, and they congratulate each other, Swayze goes off into la-la-ego land, as Nealon continues to explain to Farley why they didn't pick him. As Nealon's dialog fades out, you can hear Nealon start to explain about why they even bothered to have Farley audition: because they thought a larger, more realistically-proportioned man might appeal to their older, heavier lady clients. Now this part of the dialog is barely audible above Swayze's egotistical soliloquy, so I found it profoundly interesting that they even bothered keeping in the skit at all. To me, having a heavier dude might actually appeal to some heavier ladies, so that doesn't seem too incredibly far-fetched, either.
So, getting a guy's hopes up for getting a decent (maybe not decent, but at least renown) job only to have them pull it out from under him with the excuse of "you're too fat" just adds to the sympathy, however unconscious, we feel for the guy.
Swayze adds that he wanted to make sure it was just because of his body that he won, because on moves alone, Farley has him beat. I don't know that there wasn't some honesty propped up behind those rehearsed lines by Swayze. He, of all people, knows how much energy and physical ability it takes to move the way dancers need to move, and for him to witness a very large man do some relatively demanding moves must have impressed him.
Anyway, the skit ends with Swayze's soliloquy stating that he never saw Farley again...all the more reason to wonder what happened to the poor guy who bared his flab for a chance at fame, only to be called "fat and flabby".
Many other skits on the tape (DVD, whatever) employ a similar "you feel so bad you gotta laugh" quality, but may have taken his death to realize that we actually did feel sorry for him. So, when we laugh at someone like Farley, are we laughing because we feel sorry for him, or because we have no choice but to laugh? I think it's a little of both.
04 February 2009
Taking the blame
What??? The President of the United States of America admitted he made A MISTAKE? When was the last time this happened....20+ years ago? Being the historical ignoramus that I am, I have no idea, but I can certainly say I don't remember hearing anything resembling "I made a mistake" coming from any previous president.
Of course, being the bigger man that he is, he's taking the blame for something that doesn't even really appear to be his fault. It's not like he's the one who forgot to pay his taxes. And apparently Daschle was pretty much an absolute no-brainer for HHS Secretary, because of enormous amounts of knowledge and experience in the field.
Anyway, it seems like it shouldn't be a big deal to admit your mistakes, but a lot of normal, everyday people can't seem to do it (myself included, much of the time), so it's good to see the most important man in America do it, publicly, repeatedly.
Of course, being the bigger man that he is, he's taking the blame for something that doesn't even really appear to be his fault. It's not like he's the one who forgot to pay his taxes. And apparently Daschle was pretty much an absolute no-brainer for HHS Secretary, because of enormous amounts of knowledge and experience in the field.
Anyway, it seems like it shouldn't be a big deal to admit your mistakes, but a lot of normal, everyday people can't seem to do it (myself included, much of the time), so it's good to see the most important man in America do it, publicly, repeatedly.
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