Haven't even considered posting here in quite awhile. A quick update on me and mine: We are happily residing in Chesapeake, Virginia and are enjoying the southern life as much as we expected to. In the words of the immortal Gen. George Pickett (at least in a movie) "Up, men! Up! And to your posts! And let no man forget today that you are from old Virginia!"
To the point of the post. I had a conversation with my wife which consisted of me saying several things she found unintelligible and me feeling smart, so I figured I should post about it. First, a short baseball discussion. The conventional wisdom of the sport has taught that in order to have an effective offensive attack, the players should bat in a particular order. This has been encouraged both in the professional teaching ranks and in the amateur and media camps. At another time and place I may address whether convention is truly wise, however, to give a summary of the concept see this chart-ish thing.
1 - leadoff, high OB%, low K rate, speed
2 - #2 hitter, lower K rate, high contact rate, ability to move runners over
3 - #3 hitter, "best hitter", highest AVG, some power
4 - cleanup, power hitter, usually ends with most RBIs
5 - another power hitter, usually a 3 outcome hitter (K, BB, HR)
6 - a little bit better than 7 but not good
7 - worst hitter in NL lineups, not quite worst but not as good as 6 in AL lineups
8 - set up man for P spot in NL lineups, high contact rate, high OB%, worst hitter in AL lineups
9 - pitcher in NL lineups, 2nd leadoff hitter in AL lineups
Just for fun, here's my greatest lineup possible from the history of baseball.
1 - Joe Morgan 2B
2 - Willie Mays CF
3 - Babe Ruth RF
4 - Barry Bonds DH
5 - Ted Williams LF
6 - Lou Gehrig 1B
7 - Alex Rodriguez 3B
8 - Honus Wagner SS
9 - Mike Piazza C
I go with ARod despite his success at primarily SS because the divide between himself and Honus is so small and the chasm between them and the other SS and conventional 3B is so large. Deal with it. The 3B otherwise would be Chipper Jones. I also must mention the primary PH is Hank Aaron, PR is Rickey Henderson and starting pitcher is Greg Maddux...and closer is Mariano Rivera.
Ok, ok - so enough of the baseball for a minute. What does this have to do with the Record Industry?
I believe I can prove that the same lineup synergy baseball has been employing for 115 years is being used to craft song lineups on a Record. I will endeavor to do so with a few of my favorite cuts.
Lets take award winning AFI album "Decemberunderground"
It plays out as such:
1 - Prelude 12/21 (leadoff elements of a prelude are somewhat self-explanatory)
2 - Kill Caustic (good, not great, gives a solid feel for the album)
3 - Miss Murder (easily best song of album, maybe best of their career, strong at #3)
4 - Summer Shudder (again strong, not as catchy or hyped as MM but still very good)
5 - The Interview (another hit, didn't hit the radio but probably deserved it)
6 - Love Like Winter (probably the 2nd best song but now hitting on 4 strong tracks in a row)
7 - Affliction (not bad, but definitely a little regression into the weaker part of the album)
8 - The Missing Frame (probably the weakest or 2nd weakest track, nicely buried at #8)
9 - Kiss and Control (a bit of a surprise here as this and the next one are catchy but not 3-4-5 good)
10 - The Killing Lights
11 - 37mm (my least favorite on the album, right where it belongs 2nd to last)\
12 - Endlessly, She Said (finishing strong, a common occurrence)
Don't believe me yet? Now look at Blink 182's self title album:
1 - Feeling This (strong open, sets tone, not best song but good portrait of the band)
2 - Obvious (still good, but better is coming, staying with continuity to allow later diversity to be more effective)
3 - I Miss You (epic, top charter, ear worm of the ages)
4 - Violence (not the strongest cleanup tune in the iPod, but not bad at all, showing some of that diversity)
5 - Stockholm Syndrome (total trip, great tune)
6 - Down (another strong one, if you liked Violence, again at 4 hits in a row)
7 - The Fallen Interlude (bit of a break here, intentionally flips the lineup in a way)
8 - Go (Could leadoff, good tone setter, showing some of the diversity)
9 - Asthenia (good tune, not on anybody's "best of" lists though)
10 - Always (2nd best song at 3 spot for 2nd lineup, go ahead call in contrived but I see it!)
11 - Easy Target (starting to fade a bit with the finish of the album)
12 - All Of This (not bad, but not as good)
13 - Here's Your Letter (worst tune, again right where it belongs)
14 - I'm Lost Without You (weird, but strangely interesting and as a closer, but a bad place to experiment)
2 for 2 if you're scoring at home. I'll just highlight a few more for evidence.
#'s 2-3-4-5 for Breaking Benjamin's "Phobia"
Diary of Jane - career changer
Breath - radio hit
You - another strong tune
Evil Angel - 2nd best on album
#'s 10-11-12
Unknown Soldier - not bad...kinda meh
Had Enough - definitely weak
How Its Gonna End - bit of an uptick because the album finishes with a bookend "Outro"
#'s 1-2-3 for Cavo's "Bright Nights * Dark Days"
Champagne - broke them on a scene
Crash - best song of their short careers
Let It Go - only other significantly good song on the album
Every Chevelle album:
"Wonder What's Next"
#3 Send the Pain Below - radio hit, 2nd best song of career
"This Kind of Thinking (Could Do Us In)"
#3 Vitamin R - radio hit
"Vena Sera"
#3 Saferwaters - extremely underrated hit
"Sci-Fi Crimes"
#3 Shameful Metaphors - most singable rock song I've ever heard
"Hats Off to the Bull"
#3 Ruse - great tune, only time best or radio hit song wasn't #3 thus far, and its at #4 with The Meddler
"La Gargola"
#3 Jawbreaker - haven't gotten my hands on this album to analyze, but this tune is definitely sick
I could go on and on. Green Day uses this formula, as do Yellowcard, 30 Seconds to Mars, David Crowder Band, Enya, Eve 6, Flyleaf, Il Divo, Incubus and many many more.
Some artists have slight variations, with strongest tunes at 1, 5, 9, 13 (HIM) or numerically strongest to weakest starting at 1 (Andrea Bocelli).
So, next time you crack open a new album, see how it synergizes. You may find you enjoy how songs relate to each other. As always, comments welcome.
Friday, April 18, 2014
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
A Short but Interesting Musical Discussion
Had the following conversation with my brother via Facebook a few months ago, after re-reading it I thought maybe other people might glean some value from it. I have made comments after posting, they are in red. All grammatical errors are original.
Clint Saxon - what a stud
At your own leisure feel free to answer these questions as lengthily or diminutively as you would like on this thread. 1. Is nonlyrical music moral or amoral? 2. How and in what ways does music communicate with the emotions (or affections) and how does this tie in with its morality or lack thereof? 3. Do you believe in both cultural and intrinsic associations in reference to music? 4. Do you allow the reputation of an artists lifestyle to determine whether you should or should not listen to that particualr artists music regularly?
Alright, lets define terms first:
Music - anything that is called music by anybody, this includes bands like "STOMP" who just bang stuff together and the composer (Cage, I think) who had 2:36 of silence in the middle of one of his pieces. Definitely Cage, the actual song is here and its 4:33.
Moral/Amoral - God has announced a good and bad side to it. Such as sex is bad unless its between man & woman, for life, once married.
Communicate - exchange of ideas, communication can take place one-way because I can scream into the air and still be saying something.
Emotions/Affections - Ways to experience the world outside of our senses. Such as "that smells funny" is senses, "that makes me mad" is emotions. Sense and emotions often coincide but not always.
Culture - composite of all the rules, expectations, experiences, decisions, traditions and goals of any size group of people. Includes oneself.
Association - "Reaction to" dictated by "previous experience with"
Ok? Let me know if those jive, and if so, I'll address #1
Music - anything that is called music by anybody, this includes bands like "STOMP" who just bang stuff together and the composer (Cage, I think) who had 2:36 of silence in the middle of one of his pieces. Definitely Cage, the actual song is here and its 4:33.
Moral/Amoral - God has announced a good and bad side to it. Such as sex is bad unless its between man & woman, for life, once married.
Communicate - exchange of ideas, communication can take place one-way because I can scream into the air and still be saying something.
Emotions/Affections - Ways to experience the world outside of our senses. Such as "that smells funny" is senses, "that makes me mad" is emotions. Sense and emotions often coincide but not always.
Culture - composite of all the rules, expectations, experiences, decisions, traditions and goals of any size group of people. Includes oneself.
Association - "Reaction to" dictated by "previous experience with"
Ok? Let me know if those jive, and if so, I'll address #1
Those definitions seem satisfactory. I will ask some questions about your definition of music later in person and Perhaps take one slightly lengthier jab at explaining "moral/amoral", then proceed with #1.
Moral/Amoral : Morality is defined as "position relative to a standard" that is "up to God's standard" God has drawn lines in the sand in specific areas (I mentioned sex) those have morality. Life is another one. "Do not kill" is pretty clear. Killing is immoral, that is it goes against God's standard. See my posts on Just War to see a caveat here.
Amorality is something which does not have an expressed Divine standard applied to it such as colors. God did not say, "Do not purple" so "purple" is not moral. *in and of itself* there are situations in which something amoral can have morality attached to it. Such as, chewing bubblegum is perfectly amoral unless the administration of the educational institution that you are enrolled at and have agreed to obey says not to do it. Even then, the bubblegum is not immoral, the chewing of the bubblegum is.
Savvy?
Amorality is something which does not have an expressed Divine standard applied to it such as colors. God did not say, "Do not purple" so "purple" is not moral. *in and of itself* there are situations in which something amoral can have morality attached to it. Such as, chewing bubblegum is perfectly amoral unless the administration of the educational institution that you are enrolled at and have agreed to obey says not to do it. Even then, the bubblegum is not immoral, the chewing of the bubblegum is.
Savvy?
1. Is nonlyrical music moral or amoral?
This follows immediately from the previous discussion. It is amoral.
Sound only takes on morality when it aligns to a revealed Divine standard. Find me the passage in Scripture when God says "Do not A major scale" or "Do not 3rd beat syncopate" or "Do not French Horn" it ain't there. Situations where sound/music would be considered moral would be when an authority which derives its position relative to you from God says not to do it. Because God has not declared any music "immoral" in fact, He repeatedly declares "making music" to be more than just moral --- useful. It is possible to wrap morality into associations. I HATE this concept, I believe associations are self-inflicted and therefore should not have moral power over us. But that's #3 so I'll go more there later.
To sum up. An instrument being played is only has ouch, take out the is morality if someone is listening and then it is usually moral or amoral unless there is a stated guideline against it and I argue God sets no guideline against musical style/sound so it would be up to the God-ordained authorities.
You should listen to this - its freaking cool. Modern classical instrumental piece.
This follows immediately from the previous discussion. It is amoral.
Sound only takes on morality when it aligns to a revealed Divine standard. Find me the passage in Scripture when God says "Do not A major scale" or "Do not 3rd beat syncopate" or "Do not French Horn" it ain't there. Situations where sound/music would be considered moral would be when an authority which derives its position relative to you from God says not to do it. Because God has not declared any music "immoral" in fact, He repeatedly declares "making music" to be more than just moral --- useful. It is possible to wrap morality into associations. I HATE this concept, I believe associations are self-inflicted and therefore should not have moral power over us. But that's #3 so I'll go more there later.
To sum up. An instrument being played is only has ouch, take out the is morality if someone is listening and then it is usually moral or amoral unless there is a stated guideline against it and I argue God sets no guideline against musical style/sound so it would be up to the God-ordained authorities.
You should listen to this - its freaking cool. Modern classical instrumental piece.
Lance Saxon
Let me know what you think and then I'll hit up #2
P.S. I state everything as though I'm an expert...that's just easier than saying "I think" and "from what I can tell" every other sentence. I know these are mostly just my opinions. BUT THEY'RE TOTALLY RIGHT!
P.S. I state everything as though I'm an expert...that's just easier than saying "I think" and "from what I can tell" every other sentence. I know these are mostly just my opinions. BUT THEY'RE TOTALLY RIGHT!
I naturally have plenty of questions but you will possibly answer them when you address the other questions. So for now, yes that is satisfactory.
Lance Saxon
2. How and in what ways does music communicate with the emotions (or affections) and how does this tie in with its morality or lack thereof?
This is relativity. Books and books and books have been written on the effect of music on the emotions in various cultures. I have a book on the effect of music on a tribal group in north-western Africa. The same music many preachers call "demonic" is their national anthem. Bit of a difference in "effect" or affect there. There is a position, proscribed to by [named removed to protect the guilty] among others, that suggests our emotional response (that is western euro-christian) is the "correct" response because our culture has been protected by the church and Christendom. I call this Euro-Centrism and denounce it. It is highly arrogant to suggest God preserved His one and true culture through Western European peoples, especially when the Medieval period is also referred to as the "Dark Ages" and that while high and mighty Europeans were crawling around in poop Muslims were inventing math. look it up, its true So, to your question. It depends on the person. Fast, loud music, excites me. I get a mini buzz of energy, depending on the events of the day, and often a small burst of endorphins (can ease a headache for instance). Mom's response, which I hold is completely due to her cultural feelings, is one of panic, disgust and overwhelming dislike. kinda funny sometimes This is an emotional response. In neither case is morality in play. Only when the emotional response results in actions/thoughts which are contrary to God's stated Will can morality be considered. Such as murdering someone while pumping "Helter Skelter" like Charles Manson. But of course, the immoral action is not listening to "Helter Skelter" its killing people. The association is the next question.
Any specific concerns or questions? Then I'll move on.
This is relativity. Books and books and books have been written on the effect of music on the emotions in various cultures. I have a book on the effect of music on a tribal group in north-western Africa. The same music many preachers call "demonic" is their national anthem. Bit of a difference in "effect" or affect there. There is a position, proscribed to by [named removed to protect the guilty] among others, that suggests our emotional response (that is western euro-christian) is the "correct" response because our culture has been protected by the church and Christendom. I call this Euro-Centrism and denounce it. It is highly arrogant to suggest God preserved His one and true culture through Western European peoples, especially when the Medieval period is also referred to as the "Dark Ages" and that while high and mighty Europeans were crawling around in poop Muslims were inventing math. look it up, its true So, to your question. It depends on the person. Fast, loud music, excites me. I get a mini buzz of energy, depending on the events of the day, and often a small burst of endorphins (can ease a headache for instance). Mom's response, which I hold is completely due to her cultural feelings, is one of panic, disgust and overwhelming dislike. kinda funny sometimes This is an emotional response. In neither case is morality in play. Only when the emotional response results in actions/thoughts which are contrary to God's stated Will can morality be considered. Such as murdering someone while pumping "Helter Skelter" like Charles Manson. But of course, the immoral action is not listening to "Helter Skelter" its killing people. The association is the next question.
Any specific concerns or questions? Then I'll move on.
Clint Saxon
Once again I have plenty of questions, but they shall wait. Go ahead and continue with the knowledge that in the future I shall return to these old posts and reread them and quote them. A man of many words
Lance Saxon
3. Do you believe in both cultural and intrinsic associations in reference to music?
Cultural - Yes. But I don't think they apply to morality. Association is the way we're built to understand things. Nothing has any value apart from association unless it is absolute, and I hold God is the only absolute. Therefore, everything else is associative. Therefore, everything else is relative because I may have different experiences/responses which derive different associations. Therefore, see questions 1 & 2 regarding morality. Therefore, my favorite word
Intrinsic - association and intrinsic cannot be connected. That is, an association is dependent on the listener - it is how "I" respond. Intrinsic values are those independent of anything. Very few things are truly "intrinsic" in the universe. For instance, my "maleness" is intrinsic. That is, I have it regardless of my actions or feelings (the my primary argument against pre-programmed gayness) because I have an X chromosome and a Y chromosome while women have two X's. If they eventually figure out "gene-tranfers" then we'll have to revisit this. In the meantime, no matter how girly a guy is, no matter what he has surgically removed or added, he still has intrinsic "maleness" So, the real questions is probably this: "Does music have intrinsic values, and do they pertain to morality?" No. I will revisit tomorrow because I have to get ready to leave work now. its undeniable what your genome says
Cultural - Yes. But I don't think they apply to morality. Association is the way we're built to understand things. Nothing has any value apart from association unless it is absolute, and I hold God is the only absolute. Therefore, everything else is associative. Therefore, everything else is relative because I may have different experiences/responses which derive different associations. Therefore, see questions 1 & 2 regarding morality. Therefore, my favorite word
Intrinsic - association and intrinsic cannot be connected. That is, an association is dependent on the listener - it is how "I" respond. Intrinsic values are those independent of anything. Very few things are truly "intrinsic" in the universe. For instance, my "maleness" is intrinsic. That is, I have it regardless of my actions or feelings (the my primary argument against pre-programmed gayness) because I have an X chromosome and a Y chromosome while women have two X's. If they eventually figure out "gene-tranfers" then we'll have to revisit this. In the meantime, no matter how girly a guy is, no matter what he has surgically removed or added, he still has intrinsic "maleness" So, the real questions is probably this: "Does music have intrinsic values, and do they pertain to morality?" No. I will revisit tomorrow because I have to get ready to leave work now. its undeniable what your genome says
Lance Saxon
In order to describe music as having intrinsic values/factors you must break music into describable pieces. Depending on who you read these "pieces" vary from tone to rhythm to pace to tessiture to volume and so on. I describe a song with the following aspects: Intensity, Originality and Excellence. All of these are EXTREMELY subjective and definitely have 0 moral implications. I am planning on addressing my favorite music on my blog and I'll give each song a 1-10 rating on each of those aspects. Feel free to ask me about any particular songs and their I, O or E values. There are some songs that I dislike with high ratings because the final determiner of whether I like a song or not is simply whether or not I like the song. This never happened and probably never will, but hit me up for a list of my favorite musics, its a long long long long long long list
I'll look at the next ? on Monday.
I'll look at the next ? on Monday.
Clint Saxon
Alright this is satisfactory, I believe I know your answer to the last question well. However I will ask you to go ahead and answer it anyway when you get the chance. Wise choice
4. Reputations
You know the answer so I'll be brief. Tchaikovsky was gay. Mozart was a pervert. Beethoven was criminally insane. The Beatles were Hindu pot and acid junkies. Elvis OD'd. Shakespeare was a drunk. Poe was an opium addict. Ben Franklin was a nudist and possibly a member of a secret gay society for reals!. The Apostle Paul stoned Christians. I think you get the point. Nobody is perfect, I am supporting the art not the artist.
You know the answer so I'll be brief. Tchaikovsky was gay. Mozart was a pervert. Beethoven was criminally insane. The Beatles were Hindu pot and acid junkies. Elvis OD'd. Shakespeare was a drunk. Poe was an opium addict. Ben Franklin was a nudist and possibly a member of a secret gay society for reals!. The Apostle Paul stoned Christians. I think you get the point. Nobody is perfect, I am supporting the art not the artist.
Clint Saxon
This last post succeeded in making a point and making me laugh quite a bit at the same time. haha "nudist"
Since that answers all the questions, I will probably address the overall issue in person sometime soon.
We had that conversation and somehow, despite all this wisdom I imparted, we don't quite agree. Oh well, good thing it doesn't matter what you think.
We had that conversation and somehow, despite all this wisdom I imparted, we don't quite agree. Oh well, good thing it doesn't matter what you think.
Monday, January 6, 2014
Purpose, Propulsion, Power - A marital analogy
I was listening to a friend of mine preach through the first paragraph or two of Jude and what he was saying, though not particularly profound, clicked. When an idea clicks for me, it usually means I've found an analogy with which to describe it. Here is my analogy.
In the Christian Life we have a purpose. That is, we are created for a particular thing to be accomplished. While ultimately all creation has one goal, the glory of it's Creator, each little piece of the puzzle has a personal mission to pursue. A correct understanding of the New Testament instructs us that our purpose is Christ; Christ-likeness, Christ-"centerdness," Christ-preeminence. We also see that we have a propulsion. A better, but less alliterated, word would be motivation. Again, with a proper understanding of Scripture, we see Christ, His life, words, and will, is our motivation. We are driven to do what we just said was our purpose because of Christ. And finally, we have a power. We are incapable of achieving the aforementioned purpose without assistance. Not surprisingly, our power is the same as our purpose and propulsion, it is Christ.
Let me split a hair before launching into the metaphor. While all Christians have the same purpose, and can find New Testament unity in that, each of us has a different particular facet or aspect of that purpose to fulfill. So Christ is our purpose, but for each of us that will look slightly different. Example, I am Christ to my choir when I serve them, lead by example, am punctual, kind, enabling, etc. My brother is Christ to the choir when he sings. We're both being Christ (Christ-like) but it manifests differently.
Consider it split.
Now, the metaphor.
I go to work everyday. I was "created" for this job. It is my reason to get up in the morning, to get dressed, to take a shower. It is my reason to drive through snow, walk through -13 degree weather, talk to silly people, etc... If it was my only reason, I'd be on suicide watch. It would truly be depressing. The "soul-crushing" nature of hourly work cannot be understated. However, I do not work for myself. The purpose of my working is the provision for my family. I put in 60 hr weeks so that they have heat, clothing, food. I deliver pizzas in freezing rain because I want them to not only have needs, but also as many wants as I can give them. If the work itself were my only purpose, I'd lose my mind. But I can find purpose in my family.
This bleeds directly into my propulsion.
They are the motivation for not only working, but working hard. I must be on time for work, because I must be able to pay for diapers. I must not make my boss angry, or get a speeding ticket because my wife needs to eat. Not only do I work because of them, I work for them. Seemingly similar statements, but there is a difference. Only working because of them leads to bitterness, resentment and the suicide watch I mentioned earlier. Working for them gives me a joy, a sense of accomplishment when they have a large meal, can watch movies on Netflix, and can enjoy the many other little delicacies a ridiculously poor family enjoys. If I make money my propulsion I will be trapped in an endless cycle of getting some only to want more. Satisfaction does not rests in things, because there are always more. In people, in relationships, we find true satisfaction.
Finally, they and particularly my wife, are the power which gets me through the day. Whether it be practical things like packing me a lunch (which during this week of bachelor-ing it my mom has stepped in unsolicited, bless her), or emotional support like phone calls during my lunch break. My wife and I have had a continuous Words with Friends battle going for weeks, and frustratingly she's been beating me. But that's awesome! It is charge for my batteries. It is strength for my arms. I am planning on working and attending Grad School next year. I've already told her, "I'm gonna need more power, Scottie." And some days, I'm sure she feels like she's "giving her all she's got" but I can attest that she's been and will always be all I'll ever need.
So - Christ is our purpose, propulsion and power, just like my wife.
In the Christian Life we have a purpose. That is, we are created for a particular thing to be accomplished. While ultimately all creation has one goal, the glory of it's Creator, each little piece of the puzzle has a personal mission to pursue. A correct understanding of the New Testament instructs us that our purpose is Christ; Christ-likeness, Christ-"centerdness," Christ-preeminence. We also see that we have a propulsion. A better, but less alliterated, word would be motivation. Again, with a proper understanding of Scripture, we see Christ, His life, words, and will, is our motivation. We are driven to do what we just said was our purpose because of Christ. And finally, we have a power. We are incapable of achieving the aforementioned purpose without assistance. Not surprisingly, our power is the same as our purpose and propulsion, it is Christ.
Let me split a hair before launching into the metaphor. While all Christians have the same purpose, and can find New Testament unity in that, each of us has a different particular facet or aspect of that purpose to fulfill. So Christ is our purpose, but for each of us that will look slightly different. Example, I am Christ to my choir when I serve them, lead by example, am punctual, kind, enabling, etc. My brother is Christ to the choir when he sings. We're both being Christ (Christ-like) but it manifests differently.
Consider it split.
Now, the metaphor.
I go to work everyday. I was "created" for this job. It is my reason to get up in the morning, to get dressed, to take a shower. It is my reason to drive through snow, walk through -13 degree weather, talk to silly people, etc... If it was my only reason, I'd be on suicide watch. It would truly be depressing. The "soul-crushing" nature of hourly work cannot be understated. However, I do not work for myself. The purpose of my working is the provision for my family. I put in 60 hr weeks so that they have heat, clothing, food. I deliver pizzas in freezing rain because I want them to not only have needs, but also as many wants as I can give them. If the work itself were my only purpose, I'd lose my mind. But I can find purpose in my family.
This bleeds directly into my propulsion.
They are the motivation for not only working, but working hard. I must be on time for work, because I must be able to pay for diapers. I must not make my boss angry, or get a speeding ticket because my wife needs to eat. Not only do I work because of them, I work for them. Seemingly similar statements, but there is a difference. Only working because of them leads to bitterness, resentment and the suicide watch I mentioned earlier. Working for them gives me a joy, a sense of accomplishment when they have a large meal, can watch movies on Netflix, and can enjoy the many other little delicacies a ridiculously poor family enjoys. If I make money my propulsion I will be trapped in an endless cycle of getting some only to want more. Satisfaction does not rests in things, because there are always more. In people, in relationships, we find true satisfaction.
Finally, they and particularly my wife, are the power which gets me through the day. Whether it be practical things like packing me a lunch (which during this week of bachelor-ing it my mom has stepped in unsolicited, bless her), or emotional support like phone calls during my lunch break. My wife and I have had a continuous Words with Friends battle going for weeks, and frustratingly she's been beating me. But that's awesome! It is charge for my batteries. It is strength for my arms. I am planning on working and attending Grad School next year. I've already told her, "I'm gonna need more power, Scottie." And some days, I'm sure she feels like she's "giving her all she's got" but I can attest that she's been and will always be all I'll ever need.
So - Christ is our purpose, propulsion and power, just like my wife.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
What Inception 2 could be: "Intervention"
If you are not familiar with Christopher Nolan's masterpiece Inception starring Leo DiCaprio and introducing Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Ellen Page and Tom Hardy to national stardom, then you aren't gonna get any of this. You should also drop whatever you're carrying, child or not, and go watch it. Also, spoiler alert.
I'm not suggesting a sequel based on whether or not the top stops spinning after the camera cuts at the end of the film. So, you can leave that where it is. Instead, I propose more of a "product of the times" film, which could be incredibly cool.
Lets imagine it opens on aforementioned spinning top, which stops spinning as DiCaprio and his children hug tenderly in the background. Then a montage ensues showing DiCaprio rebuilding his life under an assumed name becoming a math professor and avoiding any mention of even the word "Dream." Page and Gordon-Levitt become a couple and ghost write a book detailing the process of performing Inception. It becomes an international phenomenon and spawns a series of high profile events including a Supreme Court Justice changing his mind midway through a week long nationally televised debate, numerous questionable but extremely publicized business transactions and the possible rigging of the Papal selection. As a result, the world scrambles to establish parameters on this extremely dangerous power. Laws were already on the books protecting the information in someone's mind (In the 1st film DiCaprio's character was constantly in flight partially because he broke these laws on numerous occasions). Now laws are being passed trying to protect the will.
As the dream world is increasingly policed, the intelligence community develops a protocol for dream access and a new spy archetype is born. Tom Hardy could become a mercenary "James Bond" type of dreamer, a cold (dream) war could develop between us and _______ country (Saudi Arabia? China? preferably not Russia but I suppose it would work) and national security expands to not only protecting our borders and our information but also our minds.
How does a government protect the mind? Can it? A possible direction would be a villainous NSA-like agency which infiltrates citizen's dreams and the film could center around the conflict of freedom vs security. Another direction could be the internal conflict of the President as he grapples with protecting the American people from dream infiltration while still preserving the sacred rights of privacy, individuality and the public trust. Another tension would be belief vs suggestion. Do we really believe anything of ourselves or is it all just put there by our surroundings or the suggestions of a stronger mind?
In any of these, and several other possibilities, who would be better served to spear-head a resistance than the man who virtually lost everything to an Inception? DiCaprio could simultaneously educate the masses on prevention while leading a revolution against external control. Hardy and DiCaprio could find themselves on opposite sides of the debate, one working to free the mind while the other strives to lock it up tight. The final moral? In freedom we have the greatest security. A mind devoid of fear, with no secrets, is impossible to twist.
I'd watch it. Too bad I'm not smart enough to write it. More too bad Christopher Nolan doesn't read my blog...
What do you think?
I'm not suggesting a sequel based on whether or not the top stops spinning after the camera cuts at the end of the film. So, you can leave that where it is. Instead, I propose more of a "product of the times" film, which could be incredibly cool.
Lets imagine it opens on aforementioned spinning top, which stops spinning as DiCaprio and his children hug tenderly in the background. Then a montage ensues showing DiCaprio rebuilding his life under an assumed name becoming a math professor and avoiding any mention of even the word "Dream." Page and Gordon-Levitt become a couple and ghost write a book detailing the process of performing Inception. It becomes an international phenomenon and spawns a series of high profile events including a Supreme Court Justice changing his mind midway through a week long nationally televised debate, numerous questionable but extremely publicized business transactions and the possible rigging of the Papal selection. As a result, the world scrambles to establish parameters on this extremely dangerous power. Laws were already on the books protecting the information in someone's mind (In the 1st film DiCaprio's character was constantly in flight partially because he broke these laws on numerous occasions). Now laws are being passed trying to protect the will.
As the dream world is increasingly policed, the intelligence community develops a protocol for dream access and a new spy archetype is born. Tom Hardy could become a mercenary "James Bond" type of dreamer, a cold (dream) war could develop between us and _______ country (Saudi Arabia? China? preferably not Russia but I suppose it would work) and national security expands to not only protecting our borders and our information but also our minds.
How does a government protect the mind? Can it? A possible direction would be a villainous NSA-like agency which infiltrates citizen's dreams and the film could center around the conflict of freedom vs security. Another direction could be the internal conflict of the President as he grapples with protecting the American people from dream infiltration while still preserving the sacred rights of privacy, individuality and the public trust. Another tension would be belief vs suggestion. Do we really believe anything of ourselves or is it all just put there by our surroundings or the suggestions of a stronger mind?
In any of these, and several other possibilities, who would be better served to spear-head a resistance than the man who virtually lost everything to an Inception? DiCaprio could simultaneously educate the masses on prevention while leading a revolution against external control. Hardy and DiCaprio could find themselves on opposite sides of the debate, one working to free the mind while the other strives to lock it up tight. The final moral? In freedom we have the greatest security. A mind devoid of fear, with no secrets, is impossible to twist.
I'd watch it. Too bad I'm not smart enough to write it. More too bad Christopher Nolan doesn't read my blog...
What do you think?
Saturday, December 7, 2013
The Most Exquisite Thespians
I was inspired by Bill Simmon's 5 most re-watchable Denzel Washington movies, to list my 10 favorite actors. I wanted something more objective than just my memory and general impressions of the movies I've watched. So, I went to IMDB.com and typed in the names of who I though were my favorite actors, about 35 or so, all men to keep it even - not actresses, and then went through their filmographies. I gave them 1.5 points for being in a movie I liked, 1 point for being in a movie I've seen and took away a point for a movie I didn't like. Here are the results:
#10
(2 tied)
#10
(2 tied)
Johnny Depp
Russell Crowe
This surprised me, I figured both of these guys would be top 5, but instead they came in tied for 10th just beating out Keanu Reeves and Will Ferrell.
#9
Sean Connery
Indiana Jones, Hunt for Red October, The Rock - I haven't seen a single Bond and he still makes the list.
#8
Paul Giamatti
This also surprised me. But I do love Mr. Giamatti, especially in Shyamalan's Lady in the Water.
#7
Tom Cruise
I believe Ethan Hunt may be my favorite recurring character of all time. At least action character.
#6
Harrison Ford
Han Solo, Indie and very excellent as our President in Air Force One,
#5
Robin Williams
This takes Aladdin in to account, which is a great movie, and an extremely diverse career. Highlights for me are Patch Adams, Jumanji and Dead Poets. Not the highest ranked comedian, which I also found interesting.
#4
Denzel Washington
This dude is a BEAST. I have yet to watch Flight but otherwise I'd seen nearly everything he's appeared in over the last several years. Haven't disliked a single character he's portrayed.
#3
Jim Carrey
From the best comedy (Dumb and Dumber) to some quality scary (The Number 23) with weird (Eternal Sunshine) and wonderful (The Truman Show) in between this guy definitely deserves his ranking.
#2
Will Smith
If this guy is in it, I want to see it. Still waiting for a chance on Ali and his most recent After Earth. But nobody pulls off cool like Mr. Smith.
drum roll please...........
#1
Tom Hanks
Saving Private Ryan alone puts him on the list. His voicing of Woody in Toy Story is awesome, and he can both dominate a film or disappear into his character, both signs of next level talent. If you had asked me before I wrote up this list, I usually go with Hanks, just over Cruise and Denzel. So, now I have a scientific (kinda) way to say, my favorite actor is Tom Hanks.
Other actors and where they ranked:
12 - Keanu Reeves
13 - Will Ferrell
14 - Jack Black
15 - Morgan Freeman
16 - Bruce Willis
17 - Michael Caine
18 - Liam Neeson
19 - Gene Hackman
20 - Dustin Hoffman
21 - Nicholas Cage
22 - Simon Pegg
23 - Leonardo DiCaprio
24 - Brad Pitt
25 - Robert Downey Jr
26 - Mel Gibson
27 - Matt Damon
28 - Mark Wahlberg
29 - Phillip Seymour Hoffman
30 - George Clooney
31 - Steve Buscemi
32 - Ewan McGregor
33 - Christian Bale
34 - Alex Baldwin
35 - Steve Carrell
36 - Alan Rickman
37 - Ian McKellen
38 - Hugh Jackman
39 - John Cusak
40 - Ryan Gosling
Suggest one I forgot, I'll quick rank him and add him to the list!
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
There was a house on 2nd street
Not sure where this came from, getting back to work introduces more structured free time into my day, strangely enough, so I started writing. Started from nothing ended up with what follows. The only changes were spelling and grammar adjustments as I went along. I don't think its quite how it should be, but I want to leave it raw. So here it is:
There was a house on 2nd street. I believe it was number 4. Could've been 6, I'd have to check. In any case, its number is not the reason I remember it.
It was a dark color, brown perhaps, with fading black shingles, and a red door. I really remember the door, it was bright, too bright it seemed, especially next to the dark walls.
I wish I could forget it. But that red door will never leave my mind.
2nd street is quiet, no more than the usual number of cars ever enter its sanctum. 14 little houses sit on each side with a simple T-stop at both ends.
In the winter, 2nd street was aglow with beautiful colors, each house like a kindergartner hopping up and down with his hand stretched as high as he can reach trying to get the teacher's attention.
But the beauty and the serenity and the joy were all hollow.
2nd street was home to a monster.
Not a "dragon with wings" kind of monster, not a "from the depths of the deepest ocean" kind of monster, not even a "hiding in your closet eating your socks" kind of monster, just a simple suburban creature of the darkness.
Now this creature had particular habits. A way of doing things which it had an affinity for; it hated change. Even the slightest inconvenience was to be avoided at all costs.
Of course, on a street like 2nd, such inconveniences never happened.
This creature, I prefer to call it "Oz", rose every morning at the crack of dawn after precisely 6 hours of sleep. It immediately set about to achieve its daily goal and always completed it in time to return to bed.
It never stopped.
The story of my encounter with it begins several years ago, in a hospital.
Hospitals are by nature paradoxical. They provide life, happiness and health, but you'd never want to go to one if you're alive, happy and healthy.
I was none of those however, so the hospital was a perfectly pleasant place at which to be.
I believe white is supposed to represent cleanliness and wholeness, that is, something without blemish, but instead I find that our perception of white has shifted.
Many hospitals have begun introducing colors into the wardrobes of their nurses, doctors and techs in order to promote activity, feelings of joy or comfort, and of course, to break the monotony a white-out inevitably introduces to an area.
This particular hospital had just started the transformation, so I sat in a white room, with white walls, a white ceiling and white sheets but was attended by a black doctor in a brown coat and tanned nurses with multicolored scrubs.
To describe my stay at the hospital as successful is rather missing the point. Anytime you leave a hospital you have succeeded. Many do not. However, there were certain goals that needed to be reached when I entered.
First, I needed to be able to breathe. While most of the time breathing is involuntary, if you're lucky enough to be born with less than ideal lungs, it's the not breathing which seems more involuntary.
Second, I needed to be alive.
Most of the time, especially for humans, "being alive" has more than just a few working definitions. The brain, the supercomputer of nerves and receptors, is the primary source of what we call "life."
However, the heart, lungs and soul also play a part. Scientifically, someone can have no brain function and be "alive" because their heart, lungs and other basic processes are being managed by someone else's brain, in most cases the inventor of the heart-lung machine.
I was in another grey area, the one in which my brain was fully functioning, quite well in fact if you ask me, while my lungs were not. In this case, death would be when the lungs stop providing oxygen to the perfectly good brain and it stopped working.
And that death would be soon.
Since I'm obviously telling this story, and you've supposed that things will be happening after what happens in the hospital, it comes as no surprise that I did not experience what we so flippantly call death.
Until one does experience it though, it's hard not to imagine that some of the things we do experience are vastly more horrible and unbearable than that mystery of perpetual rest.
Dying, or the sensation that one is going to die, has been documented as the most exhilarating experience a human can endure. It has been shown to provide a high thousands of times more overwhelming than the most potent narcotics or hallucinogens.
Ignorance is never blissful, but it is often comfortable.
Fortunately for me, my story has just begun and it would be a dreadful story if it ended on page 2. I was healed. I received the touch of the healers and breathed anew. The doctor administered a treatment which solved the symptoms and the cause. The breath of life coursed through me once again.
But there was a cost.
I was no longer who I had been. My original state was altered. The lungs which had forced out my first cry were now alien to me. My own body had set itself on my destruction and it had been thwarted. Recompense was due.
In some paradoxical sense, I had been given a new body. I hadn't had a brain transplant or even a lung transplant. But a whole new set of abilities, sensations and limitations were pressed upon me.
Something was different.
That's when I met Oz. He insists he was there all along. That I hadn't noticed him, but I have no memory of him prior to that day.
He also persisted in referring to me as his, some sort of delusional ownership. No matter how much I disagreed with him he wouldn't budge on that fact.
You're probably wondering how I could just meet a monster. The first day I met him there was little indication of what he would become. Over time it became abundantly clear my safety and the safety of those around me was in jeopardy.
Oz wouldn't leave me alone. He possessed an uncanny ability to blend in with his surroundings, so much so, some people didn't notice him at all, but I always knew he was there. So did my closest friends, some of whom actually enjoyed his shenanigans, while most tried to ignore him.
My wife had a difficult time dealing with Oz. She tried at times to accommodate him, give him a chance to have his way thinking it might encourage him to move on. Of course that didn't help, it merely allowed him to entrench deeper into our lives.
Other times she would plot to kill him. Unwittingly, I usually foiled the plans with my lack of awareness, but at least once she got a clean shot off. Instead of felling the beast, he grew to an enormous size and threatened to destroy our family. Thankfully, we managed to talk him down.
Living with a monster is easier than it sounds. While Oz was tireless, he avoided getting in our way as long it didn't interfere with his designs.
Being in good health, I launched out on the adventure that each of us is afforded. Family, fun and a feverish pursuit of freedom filled every inch of my life, every inch except Oz's.
We started a family, planting and growing two wonderful human specimens. We watered their minds and groomed their attitudes until we had a couple excellent products for society. When they had ripened, the Dream Weaver plucked them and set them on their paths.
Nothing tastes better than the fruit of your labor.
All the while Oz went about his work. I couldn't help but wonder what our little morsels could've been had he not been around. Despite our best efforts, he managed to bruise them both on numerous occasions and even tried to start a colony of worms in one of them.
We stopped that nonsense right away, but not without considerable strain.
At times I wondered if Oz had an ally in the home. A counterpart I wasn't aware of, I mentioned it to my wife on several occasions, but it wasn't until much later my fears were confirmed. Nonetheless, Oz was plenty of trouble on his own.
With success comes possibilities and 2nd street was our resting place.
The Dream Weaver had visited both of us when we were young and given us our portion. While satisfying every craving is virtually impossible, we felt our adventures had neared their zenith.
That's when the hideous creature began to take its nastiest shape. It became bulky, odorous and intimidating. Nobody could ignore it and even the ones that may have enjoyed his company began to lose interest.
His rank cloud of putrescence began to consume me.
A simple, pleasant address like number 4 2nd street can become such a dark place.
Appeasement failed as the beast became more and more gluttonous with each new concession. Resistance was met with overwhelming force and hopelessness began to set in.
Would we ever be rid of this monster?
The view ahead grew hazy, and each day our progress shrank as his empire grew.
It had to be stopped. But it never stopped.
I had an idea. The first time I met the creature was at the hospital. Maybe if I returned there, they would have an idea on how to contain the beast. Or even possibly destroy it.
Convincing Oz that I needed to go to the hospital was no easy task. It had become so powerful, that at times I almost regretted my hatred of it. It was all I knew, all I could see, and the fear of the unknown is paralyzing.
When I arrived, it took some time before anyone would see me. You see, I was healed, I already had been fixed and there were loads of sick people to be taken care of. Eventually, a doctor took a few minutes to see me.
"What's the problem?"
"This creature, Oz, he first appeared here, so I thought maybe you'd know a way to get rid of him."
"Oz? Oh, that. Did you get your lungs repaired?"
"Yes, that was when he came."
"Kind of, did your doctor send you any medicine home, for your lungs?"
"Yeah, but my lungs are fine, he fixed them."
"Right, but have you been taking the medicine?"
"No. I just said my lungs are fine."
"Try taking the medicine, and here are some refills. The same thing that opened your airways can also clear away dangerous pollutants. Your friend, Oz was it? He shouldn't last long, although you'll have to kill it every morning."
"Every day, don't you have another treatment, something that would wipe him out for good?"
"Yes, but you wouldn't like that."
I didn't understand it at the time, but just as the doctor said, daily doses of the same meds which cured my lung defect fought back Oz. He ever went away and he never stopped working. But his potency decreased with every dose.
Other people started noticing his weakness. Some missed him, pining for his mischievousness. But my wife and I were glad to be rid of him.
His story doesn't end with me though. You see, Oz lives on. Every day he tirelessly presses towards his conquest. Every day, individuals medicate to fend him off.
My story ends though. It ends in a hospital, just where it began. This time my body will not be stopped. Death's mysteries will be revealed.
Oz doesn't get to come.
As I closed my eyes and the machines stopped beeping I felt his grip slip off.
Humans are forever trapped on the runaway train of his life, flying headlong off a cliff, always dangling over our impending deaths. Death is the breaking of the chains, the opening of the eyes to the freedom that fills our dreams.
As I closed my eyes, they opened and I saw him. The doctor, the one who healed my lungs and drove away the monster, stood before me. He reached out and took me.
I was free.
There is a monster on 2nd street. But his clock is ticking.
There was a house on 2nd street. I believe it was number 4. Could've been 6, I'd have to check. In any case, its number is not the reason I remember it.
It was a dark color, brown perhaps, with fading black shingles, and a red door. I really remember the door, it was bright, too bright it seemed, especially next to the dark walls.
I wish I could forget it. But that red door will never leave my mind.
2nd street is quiet, no more than the usual number of cars ever enter its sanctum. 14 little houses sit on each side with a simple T-stop at both ends.
In the winter, 2nd street was aglow with beautiful colors, each house like a kindergartner hopping up and down with his hand stretched as high as he can reach trying to get the teacher's attention.
But the beauty and the serenity and the joy were all hollow.
2nd street was home to a monster.
Not a "dragon with wings" kind of monster, not a "from the depths of the deepest ocean" kind of monster, not even a "hiding in your closet eating your socks" kind of monster, just a simple suburban creature of the darkness.
Now this creature had particular habits. A way of doing things which it had an affinity for; it hated change. Even the slightest inconvenience was to be avoided at all costs.
Of course, on a street like 2nd, such inconveniences never happened.
This creature, I prefer to call it "Oz", rose every morning at the crack of dawn after precisely 6 hours of sleep. It immediately set about to achieve its daily goal and always completed it in time to return to bed.
It never stopped.
The story of my encounter with it begins several years ago, in a hospital.
Hospitals are by nature paradoxical. They provide life, happiness and health, but you'd never want to go to one if you're alive, happy and healthy.
I was none of those however, so the hospital was a perfectly pleasant place at which to be.
I believe white is supposed to represent cleanliness and wholeness, that is, something without blemish, but instead I find that our perception of white has shifted.
Many hospitals have begun introducing colors into the wardrobes of their nurses, doctors and techs in order to promote activity, feelings of joy or comfort, and of course, to break the monotony a white-out inevitably introduces to an area.
This particular hospital had just started the transformation, so I sat in a white room, with white walls, a white ceiling and white sheets but was attended by a black doctor in a brown coat and tanned nurses with multicolored scrubs.
To describe my stay at the hospital as successful is rather missing the point. Anytime you leave a hospital you have succeeded. Many do not. However, there were certain goals that needed to be reached when I entered.
First, I needed to be able to breathe. While most of the time breathing is involuntary, if you're lucky enough to be born with less than ideal lungs, it's the not breathing which seems more involuntary.
Second, I needed to be alive.
Most of the time, especially for humans, "being alive" has more than just a few working definitions. The brain, the supercomputer of nerves and receptors, is the primary source of what we call "life."
However, the heart, lungs and soul also play a part. Scientifically, someone can have no brain function and be "alive" because their heart, lungs and other basic processes are being managed by someone else's brain, in most cases the inventor of the heart-lung machine.
I was in another grey area, the one in which my brain was fully functioning, quite well in fact if you ask me, while my lungs were not. In this case, death would be when the lungs stop providing oxygen to the perfectly good brain and it stopped working.
And that death would be soon.
Since I'm obviously telling this story, and you've supposed that things will be happening after what happens in the hospital, it comes as no surprise that I did not experience what we so flippantly call death.
Until one does experience it though, it's hard not to imagine that some of the things we do experience are vastly more horrible and unbearable than that mystery of perpetual rest.
Dying, or the sensation that one is going to die, has been documented as the most exhilarating experience a human can endure. It has been shown to provide a high thousands of times more overwhelming than the most potent narcotics or hallucinogens.
Ignorance is never blissful, but it is often comfortable.
Fortunately for me, my story has just begun and it would be a dreadful story if it ended on page 2. I was healed. I received the touch of the healers and breathed anew. The doctor administered a treatment which solved the symptoms and the cause. The breath of life coursed through me once again.
But there was a cost.
I was no longer who I had been. My original state was altered. The lungs which had forced out my first cry were now alien to me. My own body had set itself on my destruction and it had been thwarted. Recompense was due.
In some paradoxical sense, I had been given a new body. I hadn't had a brain transplant or even a lung transplant. But a whole new set of abilities, sensations and limitations were pressed upon me.
Something was different.
That's when I met Oz. He insists he was there all along. That I hadn't noticed him, but I have no memory of him prior to that day.
He also persisted in referring to me as his, some sort of delusional ownership. No matter how much I disagreed with him he wouldn't budge on that fact.
You're probably wondering how I could just meet a monster. The first day I met him there was little indication of what he would become. Over time it became abundantly clear my safety and the safety of those around me was in jeopardy.
Oz wouldn't leave me alone. He possessed an uncanny ability to blend in with his surroundings, so much so, some people didn't notice him at all, but I always knew he was there. So did my closest friends, some of whom actually enjoyed his shenanigans, while most tried to ignore him.
My wife had a difficult time dealing with Oz. She tried at times to accommodate him, give him a chance to have his way thinking it might encourage him to move on. Of course that didn't help, it merely allowed him to entrench deeper into our lives.
Other times she would plot to kill him. Unwittingly, I usually foiled the plans with my lack of awareness, but at least once she got a clean shot off. Instead of felling the beast, he grew to an enormous size and threatened to destroy our family. Thankfully, we managed to talk him down.
Living with a monster is easier than it sounds. While Oz was tireless, he avoided getting in our way as long it didn't interfere with his designs.
Being in good health, I launched out on the adventure that each of us is afforded. Family, fun and a feverish pursuit of freedom filled every inch of my life, every inch except Oz's.
We started a family, planting and growing two wonderful human specimens. We watered their minds and groomed their attitudes until we had a couple excellent products for society. When they had ripened, the Dream Weaver plucked them and set them on their paths.
Nothing tastes better than the fruit of your labor.
All the while Oz went about his work. I couldn't help but wonder what our little morsels could've been had he not been around. Despite our best efforts, he managed to bruise them both on numerous occasions and even tried to start a colony of worms in one of them.
We stopped that nonsense right away, but not without considerable strain.
At times I wondered if Oz had an ally in the home. A counterpart I wasn't aware of, I mentioned it to my wife on several occasions, but it wasn't until much later my fears were confirmed. Nonetheless, Oz was plenty of trouble on his own.
With success comes possibilities and 2nd street was our resting place.
The Dream Weaver had visited both of us when we were young and given us our portion. While satisfying every craving is virtually impossible, we felt our adventures had neared their zenith.
That's when the hideous creature began to take its nastiest shape. It became bulky, odorous and intimidating. Nobody could ignore it and even the ones that may have enjoyed his company began to lose interest.
His rank cloud of putrescence began to consume me.
A simple, pleasant address like number 4 2nd street can become such a dark place.
Appeasement failed as the beast became more and more gluttonous with each new concession. Resistance was met with overwhelming force and hopelessness began to set in.
Would we ever be rid of this monster?
The view ahead grew hazy, and each day our progress shrank as his empire grew.
It had to be stopped. But it never stopped.
I had an idea. The first time I met the creature was at the hospital. Maybe if I returned there, they would have an idea on how to contain the beast. Or even possibly destroy it.
Convincing Oz that I needed to go to the hospital was no easy task. It had become so powerful, that at times I almost regretted my hatred of it. It was all I knew, all I could see, and the fear of the unknown is paralyzing.
When I arrived, it took some time before anyone would see me. You see, I was healed, I already had been fixed and there were loads of sick people to be taken care of. Eventually, a doctor took a few minutes to see me.
"What's the problem?"
"This creature, Oz, he first appeared here, so I thought maybe you'd know a way to get rid of him."
"Oz? Oh, that. Did you get your lungs repaired?"
"Yes, that was when he came."
"Kind of, did your doctor send you any medicine home, for your lungs?"
"Yeah, but my lungs are fine, he fixed them."
"Right, but have you been taking the medicine?"
"No. I just said my lungs are fine."
"Try taking the medicine, and here are some refills. The same thing that opened your airways can also clear away dangerous pollutants. Your friend, Oz was it? He shouldn't last long, although you'll have to kill it every morning."
"Every day, don't you have another treatment, something that would wipe him out for good?"
"Yes, but you wouldn't like that."
I didn't understand it at the time, but just as the doctor said, daily doses of the same meds which cured my lung defect fought back Oz. He ever went away and he never stopped working. But his potency decreased with every dose.
Other people started noticing his weakness. Some missed him, pining for his mischievousness. But my wife and I were glad to be rid of him.
His story doesn't end with me though. You see, Oz lives on. Every day he tirelessly presses towards his conquest. Every day, individuals medicate to fend him off.
My story ends though. It ends in a hospital, just where it began. This time my body will not be stopped. Death's mysteries will be revealed.
Oz doesn't get to come.
As I closed my eyes and the machines stopped beeping I felt his grip slip off.
Humans are forever trapped on the runaway train of his life, flying headlong off a cliff, always dangling over our impending deaths. Death is the breaking of the chains, the opening of the eyes to the freedom that fills our dreams.
As I closed my eyes, they opened and I saw him. The doctor, the one who healed my lungs and drove away the monster, stood before me. He reached out and took me.
I was free.
There is a monster on 2nd street. But his clock is ticking.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
One World Currency, its what's for dinner
I haven't posted in awhile, the back injury kinda killed the groove. But I was back at work last week and I've had a thought festering that I want to write. So here goes...
Resolved:
The world should (and in many ways has) adopt a single currency for any and all international trade
I'll act like I'm debating you, and if you want, please post rebuttals in the comments section.
First of all, in order to fairly exchange goods, you and I must have a standard by which we value those goods. Many things affect that standard, such as the difficulty it was to create or harvest, the distance it had to travel to the exchange, the scarcity of it or its parts and the desire or need it satisfies. In other words, an economic system must exist. In the case of America, the dollar's value is determined by its borrowing power, spending power, and in what I believe is an increasingly mythical sense, gold.
When I trade with someone across national lines, the values needs a standard. Currently its determined by the exchange rates. International currency trading, a truly magical thing, compares the various value determiners and sets a comparison, i.e. $1.38 for € 1 (Euro). I believe this is stupid.
I believe a single currency, backed by 6 major production categories and derived from the 5 strongest economies across those categories, would make life much simpler. It would be reevaluated every year by a committee of bankers and businessmen at the UN. Every 4 years, alternating the seats, half of this 20-25 individual committee would be elected from the top 100 economies in the UN, determined by the committee itself. The first committee would be selected by a special convention of economists and world leaders but I'm wondering off my original trail of thought.
The 6 major categories would be: Energy, Agriculture, Raw Materials, Defense, Technology, Non-Consumables (Textiles, Infrastructure, Construction, Etc.)
Each nation would be compared both on a gross evaluation and a per capita evaluation per category; and a formula, which I would be unqualified to write but probably would enjoy trying, would determine that nation's TCV (Total Currency Value). The top 5 in composite TCV score, across all the categories, would be the economies that would back the currency.
Over the course of 10 years, each UN member nation would begin printing the new currency and supplying it to their banks. The various nation's current currencies would be rated against the new composite currency much like the dollar and euro are compared today. As the old currency is spent, slowly but surely all of it would be absorbed into the banking system and exchanged into the World Bank for the new stuff, at whatever rate that particular country's currency was valued at. The World Bank exists, look it up.
After that, all international transactions, and if a country is particularly excited about the idea, even domestic transactions, would be carried out using the new universal coin. I think a good name would be Terra. That way you could have a Centerra (hundred Terra bill), Militerra (million Terra bill), Decaterra (10) etc. All coinage, or fractions of a Terra, would be eliminated. Rounding to the nearest 1 Terra would be mandatory. Imagine the simplicity!
Along with the simplicity a universal currency provides, it also allows the UN to level meaningful sanctions and penalties on non-participatory governments. What is currently a laughable slap on the wrist would become an economical nightmare. Truly self-sustaining economies can no longer exist, but with a universal coin, they'd be illegal.
I see you Isolationist, squirming and fuming at my ideas. I've got a simile for ya.
Isolationism is a like a man choosing to live on a secluded island. He may like it at first, but eventually he'll either go crazy, starve, die from exposure, or get eaten by a wild animal.
Nations can do those things too. A nation going crazy, is when the culture develops fanaticism, much like the Japanese pre-WWII. With no global-sense, they had been bred to believe they were the center of the universe and their emperor was divinity. Eventually that lead to rampant imperialism and sneak attacking the largest 2 countries in the world (China and the USA) (make it 3 and include the Ruso-Japanese war). Sounds like insanity to me.
A nation can also starve or die from exposure. More obvious here, but not having the necessary things, whether they be food or energy or guns, is eventually disastrous. Lack of something important is the primary cause for a large majority of international conflicts, which are more commonly known as wars.
Finally, nations can get eaten. When you choose to not be apart of the group, eventually the group will come take your stuff. Not saying its right, just saying that's how it is.
So, rebut away if you dare, but in the meantime vote for me for UN Secretary General so I can get the ball rolling on this thing.
Resolved:
The world should (and in many ways has) adopt a single currency for any and all international trade
I'll act like I'm debating you, and if you want, please post rebuttals in the comments section.
First of all, in order to fairly exchange goods, you and I must have a standard by which we value those goods. Many things affect that standard, such as the difficulty it was to create or harvest, the distance it had to travel to the exchange, the scarcity of it or its parts and the desire or need it satisfies. In other words, an economic system must exist. In the case of America, the dollar's value is determined by its borrowing power, spending power, and in what I believe is an increasingly mythical sense, gold.
When I trade with someone across national lines, the values needs a standard. Currently its determined by the exchange rates. International currency trading, a truly magical thing, compares the various value determiners and sets a comparison, i.e. $1.38 for € 1 (Euro). I believe this is stupid.
I believe a single currency, backed by 6 major production categories and derived from the 5 strongest economies across those categories, would make life much simpler. It would be reevaluated every year by a committee of bankers and businessmen at the UN. Every 4 years, alternating the seats, half of this 20-25 individual committee would be elected from the top 100 economies in the UN, determined by the committee itself. The first committee would be selected by a special convention of economists and world leaders but I'm wondering off my original trail of thought.
The 6 major categories would be: Energy, Agriculture, Raw Materials, Defense, Technology, Non-Consumables (Textiles, Infrastructure, Construction, Etc.)
Each nation would be compared both on a gross evaluation and a per capita evaluation per category; and a formula, which I would be unqualified to write but probably would enjoy trying, would determine that nation's TCV (Total Currency Value). The top 5 in composite TCV score, across all the categories, would be the economies that would back the currency.
Over the course of 10 years, each UN member nation would begin printing the new currency and supplying it to their banks. The various nation's current currencies would be rated against the new composite currency much like the dollar and euro are compared today. As the old currency is spent, slowly but surely all of it would be absorbed into the banking system and exchanged into the World Bank for the new stuff, at whatever rate that particular country's currency was valued at. The World Bank exists, look it up.
After that, all international transactions, and if a country is particularly excited about the idea, even domestic transactions, would be carried out using the new universal coin. I think a good name would be Terra. That way you could have a Centerra (hundred Terra bill), Militerra (million Terra bill), Decaterra (10) etc. All coinage, or fractions of a Terra, would be eliminated. Rounding to the nearest 1 Terra would be mandatory. Imagine the simplicity!
Along with the simplicity a universal currency provides, it also allows the UN to level meaningful sanctions and penalties on non-participatory governments. What is currently a laughable slap on the wrist would become an economical nightmare. Truly self-sustaining economies can no longer exist, but with a universal coin, they'd be illegal.
I see you Isolationist, squirming and fuming at my ideas. I've got a simile for ya.
Isolationism is a like a man choosing to live on a secluded island. He may like it at first, but eventually he'll either go crazy, starve, die from exposure, or get eaten by a wild animal.
Nations can do those things too. A nation going crazy, is when the culture develops fanaticism, much like the Japanese pre-WWII. With no global-sense, they had been bred to believe they were the center of the universe and their emperor was divinity. Eventually that lead to rampant imperialism and sneak attacking the largest 2 countries in the world (China and the USA) (make it 3 and include the Ruso-Japanese war). Sounds like insanity to me.
A nation can also starve or die from exposure. More obvious here, but not having the necessary things, whether they be food or energy or guns, is eventually disastrous. Lack of something important is the primary cause for a large majority of international conflicts, which are more commonly known as wars.
Finally, nations can get eaten. When you choose to not be apart of the group, eventually the group will come take your stuff. Not saying its right, just saying that's how it is.
So, rebut away if you dare, but in the meantime vote for me for UN Secretary General so I can get the ball rolling on this thing.
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