People behave strangely when they suspect everyone is going to die.
When faced with yet another Maybe-Apocalypse, there are a number of ways we can respond.
We can respond with denial. Which is understandable, because, as far as we know, the world has ended zero times so far.
We can respond with practicality, and buy lots of bottled water.
We can respond with humor, and look for the most seamless way to work in a reference to Michael Bay's Armageddon.
Or, we can respond with self-introspective hypothetical questioning. Guess which one I'm about to do! (Hint: This is a blog.)
A commercial for the navy once asked me, "If someone wrote a book about your life, would anyone want to read it?" The answer of course is no. The answer is supposed to be no, so that you realize you should join the navy. Only a minuscule amount of the population will ever be biography worthy. The rest of us, only blogworthy (as you can see, the bar is nice and low).
But the point is this: If this is the final chapter of my life, what the fuck has my story amounted to? In lieu of some underwhelming summation (a staple here at One Seven Billionth), I will instead just list things that have comprised my life.
A respectable academic career that steadily petered out toward unremarkable-ness toward the end. A strong family, if overprotective. A handful of good ideas, unfinished. Stress. Frustration. Very good friends. A rocky pursuit of love, culminating with one good, long, (finite) run at it. Four years of odd jobs, and a current job I like very much. An evolving faith in a distant, quiet God. A modest collection of things to say. People willing to listen.
Maybe that's enough.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Saturday, November 24, 2012
On Friendship Politics
I've always been of the school of thought that friendship is something easily given. Of course, there are different degrees of "friendship", but at the very least, to treat someone with warmth, civility, respect, and decency is something that should be done freely and generously.
To "unfriend" someone based on perceived allegiances or something that happened between other people is part of what I call "friendship politics". And while I get it, most of it strikes me as petty. It can sound something like this:
"Hey, I'm friends with someone who no longer likes you. We're not cool anymore."
"Hey, you haven't put forth sufficient time and effort in proving your friendship to me. We're not cool anymore."
"Hey, our group of friends split in half due to someone else's dispute, and you chose the wrong side. We're not cool anymore."
You're valuing your own good will as something that must be earned, and conversely, something that can be revoked. It's not knighthood for godssakes, just be a nice person.
In general, I find burning bridges dumb. "Purging" friend lists is dumb. Drawing lines in the sand is dumb. Acquaintances, friends-of-friends, old classmates, you can all call me a friend. I'll call you the same. It doesn't mean we have to take photo booth pictures together, it just means I regard you with friendliness, dammit.
So to anyone who's ever unfriended anyone on my behalf, I appreciate the sentiment, but you haven't done me any favors. I would never ask that of anyone, unless circumstances were extreme. Granted, I suppose I've never been tested. I've never been in a "bad" break up. But as of yet, I take no joy in dissolving friendships.
I take no joy in the sadness of others under the pretense of fairness. That's called vengeance.
And if the word "vengeance" sounds petty and over-dramatic, maybe it's because the concept itself is petty and over-dramatic.
To "unfriend" someone based on perceived allegiances or something that happened between other people is part of what I call "friendship politics". And while I get it, most of it strikes me as petty. It can sound something like this:
"Hey, I'm friends with someone who no longer likes you. We're not cool anymore."
"Hey, you haven't put forth sufficient time and effort in proving your friendship to me. We're not cool anymore."
"Hey, our group of friends split in half due to someone else's dispute, and you chose the wrong side. We're not cool anymore."
You're valuing your own good will as something that must be earned, and conversely, something that can be revoked. It's not knighthood for godssakes, just be a nice person.
So to anyone who's ever unfriended anyone on my behalf, I appreciate the sentiment, but you haven't done me any favors. I would never ask that of anyone, unless circumstances were extreme. Granted, I suppose I've never been tested. I've never been in a "bad" break up. But as of yet, I take no joy in dissolving friendships.
I take no joy in the sadness of others under the pretense of fairness. That's called vengeance.
And if the word "vengeance" sounds petty and over-dramatic, maybe it's because the concept itself is petty and over-dramatic.
Friday, November 23, 2012
On The Meaning Of The Holiday
So one time in Europe, some Christians got super tired of being persecuted by the Slightly Different Christians, so they got in boats and sailed to America. As it turns out, they were pretty bad at finding food and were about to starve but the Native Americans showed up and were like "Here's hella corn" and it turned out okay. So fast forward through the near genocide of said Native Americans and the American Revolution and the Hyphy Movement and eventually you get to present day, where we get work off for Thanksgiving. And I wanted to speak, in my own way, about what the holiday means.
Thanksgiving is a time when we all get to slow down, gather close with family or friends, call to mind the blessings we have, and quit being assholes.
So maybe you don't get work off and you hate your job? Quit being an asshole. You have a job. People are giving you money, and have agreed to do so on a continual basis. Not everyone can say that.
Or maybe you don't have a job, and you're stuck at home doing nothing? Quit being an asshole. You're inside of a home. That is a glorious, baffling status symbol to some people in the world. You are sheltered. The weather can change, and it doesn't effect you. You are nearly invincible to mother nature.
So your family interactions are awkward and strained? Quit being an asshole. You have family that's still alive. Also they like you enough to cook you food, and presumably enough to pretend to like you during the holiday.
So there's a bunch of food and now you have to workout cuz you think your'e fat? Quit being an asshole. There's like a billion people dying of the opposite problem.
Now of course, I'm not saying everyone's an asshole. I but think most of us can be, some times, in some ways, myself included. Not always in action, but in attitude. I'm a lucky bastard in most respects, and to be anything less than grateful makes me a snotty little brat. And yes, kind of an asshole. But on Thanksgiving, I stuff my mouth with food, and I cut that shit out.
This may be an overly glib way of looking at a beautiful thing (but if you haven't noticed, that's kind of my shtick).
Happy Thanksgiving!
Thanksgiving is a time when we all get to slow down, gather close with family or friends, call to mind the blessings we have, and quit being assholes.
So maybe you don't get work off and you hate your job? Quit being an asshole. You have a job. People are giving you money, and have agreed to do so on a continual basis. Not everyone can say that.
Or maybe you don't have a job, and you're stuck at home doing nothing? Quit being an asshole. You're inside of a home. That is a glorious, baffling status symbol to some people in the world. You are sheltered. The weather can change, and it doesn't effect you. You are nearly invincible to mother nature.
So your family interactions are awkward and strained? Quit being an asshole. You have family that's still alive. Also they like you enough to cook you food, and presumably enough to pretend to like you during the holiday.
So there's a bunch of food and now you have to workout cuz you think your'e fat? Quit being an asshole. There's like a billion people dying of the opposite problem.
Now of course, I'm not saying everyone's an asshole. I but think most of us can be, some times, in some ways, myself included. Not always in action, but in attitude. I'm a lucky bastard in most respects, and to be anything less than grateful makes me a snotty little brat. And yes, kind of an asshole. But on Thanksgiving, I stuff my mouth with food, and I cut that shit out.
This may be an overly glib way of looking at a beautiful thing (but if you haven't noticed, that's kind of my shtick).
Happy Thanksgiving!
Friday, October 19, 2012
On Time Travel And Clichés
If you could get in a time machine and visit your past self at any point, what would you tell them?
My previous go-to answer was "Invest in Red Velvet anything." My new answer is something along the lines of "YOU LITTLE SHIT, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW GOOD YOU HAVE IT."
I'm exaggerating. But the sentiment is, to put it in the most painfully generic cliche, is "You don't know what you've got till it's gone."
But is this even worth saying anymore? Everyone already knows this. We just set it aside in our minds, and get reminded of it now and again, whenever change hurts us.
Maybe a better cliche to use (and a slightly healthier attitude to adopt) is "The grass is always greener..." In just the way I envy the Owen's at different points in history, they might find reason to envy me. There was a point when I was hopelessly frustrated artistically, but incidentally, also happier socially. Unhappy romantically, but satisfied professionally. Etcetera, etcetera. Not saying that any of these are linked, or that the universe works on some cosmic trade-off system. Just that nothing is ever perfect, and nothing is ever hopeless.
Every cloud has a silver lining. And every silver lining has an even thinner lining of shit. Those shit-lining's have trace elements of silver, which are in turn microscopically contaminated with shit, and so on, ad infinitum.
(...When am I gonna stop ending my blog posts with bleak, inconclusive world views? When the world stops being a grey, amorphous haze of silver and shit.)
My previous go-to answer was "Invest in Red Velvet anything." My new answer is something along the lines of "YOU LITTLE SHIT, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW GOOD YOU HAVE IT."
I'm exaggerating. But the sentiment is, to put it in the most painfully generic cliche, is "You don't know what you've got till it's gone."
But is this even worth saying anymore? Everyone already knows this. We just set it aside in our minds, and get reminded of it now and again, whenever change hurts us.
Maybe a better cliche to use (and a slightly healthier attitude to adopt) is "The grass is always greener..." In just the way I envy the Owen's at different points in history, they might find reason to envy me. There was a point when I was hopelessly frustrated artistically, but incidentally, also happier socially. Unhappy romantically, but satisfied professionally. Etcetera, etcetera. Not saying that any of these are linked, or that the universe works on some cosmic trade-off system. Just that nothing is ever perfect, and nothing is ever hopeless.
Every cloud has a silver lining. And every silver lining has an even thinner lining of shit. Those shit-lining's have trace elements of silver, which are in turn microscopically contaminated with shit, and so on, ad infinitum.
(...When am I gonna stop ending my blog posts with bleak, inconclusive world views? When the world stops being a grey, amorphous haze of silver and shit.)
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
On Surviving Sports Seasons
I should clarify for the sake those who have never met me and have somehow accidentally typed this URL into their browsers... I'm not a sports fan. Sure, I can watch sporting events and get into the spirit if I'm with friends or family, but in general, I never got into them. To use an analogy: Soccer is to Most Americans what Every Sport is to Owen.
But, like a harmless, nerdy Dexter Morgan, I have to find a way to fit in with normal human beings. And every so often, human beings will try to talk to me about sports. Here is the strategy guide I've devised for myself.
1. For those close to you, just be honest.
My friends, family, and coworkers already know my deal. So no worries there. But for everyone else, like acquaintances and strangers trying to make small talk...
2. Don't invite the conversation. If you can help it, just avoid sports. I own exactly one SF Giants shirt (my sister bought it for me). But the only time I DON'T wear it is during baseball season. It's like a signal to the world to quiz me on current events. I don't want to put on a shirt and have to wonder whether I should act excited or disappointed about a game I didn't watch. But, when that conversation is unavoidable...
3. Act upset that you missed the game.Sometimes strangers will ask if I saw the game, and fucking of course I didn't, but rather than kill the small-talk rhythm already set in motion, I say "Nawww, I missed it!" in a tone of voice that says "Darn my luck! Please fill me in on all the exciting details of this, our shared interest." Sports fans like to talk. Sometimes you just gotta let'em talk.
4. Don't joke unless you're ready to argue.
This is the MOST counter-intuitive tip for me. Humor is one of my only tools for engaging people in social settings, especially for breaking the ice in awkward or uncomfortable silence. So during sports-centered gatherings, when I'm at my most awkward and uncomfortable, I am socially unarmed. The reason is this: It's too hard to tell who's a sports fanatic and who's a fucking sports fanatic. Sports has joined politics and religion in the category of things that not everyone can take a joke about.
A few years ago, I once said, half joking, that I'd enjoy seeing the Lakers lose. I was then confronted by a very serious Lakers fan asking for justification. I was caught off guard, because I thought that, in the Bay Area, you don't need a reason to hate the Lakers, it's just understood that they're the villains, like Confederate Soldiers. And beyond that, I just wanted to see the underdog beat the favorite (that's valid, right?), but in that moment, I found myself in a serious argument, hurting someone's feelings about something I really did NOT give a shit about. It's really not AT ALL worth the joke.
Long story short, here I am. The uncomfortable, humorless, enthusiasm-feigning Dexter Morgan of sports. So if you're like me, go forth with this wisdom and quietly blend in.
Go team.
But, like a harmless, nerdy Dexter Morgan, I have to find a way to fit in with normal human beings. And every so often, human beings will try to talk to me about sports. Here is the strategy guide I've devised for myself.
1. For those close to you, just be honest.
My friends, family, and coworkers already know my deal. So no worries there. But for everyone else, like acquaintances and strangers trying to make small talk...
2. Don't invite the conversation. If you can help it, just avoid sports. I own exactly one SF Giants shirt (my sister bought it for me). But the only time I DON'T wear it is during baseball season. It's like a signal to the world to quiz me on current events. I don't want to put on a shirt and have to wonder whether I should act excited or disappointed about a game I didn't watch. But, when that conversation is unavoidable...
3. Act upset that you missed the game.Sometimes strangers will ask if I saw the game, and fucking of course I didn't, but rather than kill the small-talk rhythm already set in motion, I say "Nawww, I missed it!" in a tone of voice that says "Darn my luck! Please fill me in on all the exciting details of this, our shared interest." Sports fans like to talk. Sometimes you just gotta let'em talk.
4. Don't joke unless you're ready to argue.
This is the MOST counter-intuitive tip for me. Humor is one of my only tools for engaging people in social settings, especially for breaking the ice in awkward or uncomfortable silence. So during sports-centered gatherings, when I'm at my most awkward and uncomfortable, I am socially unarmed. The reason is this: It's too hard to tell who's a sports fanatic and who's a fucking sports fanatic. Sports has joined politics and religion in the category of things that not everyone can take a joke about.
A few years ago, I once said, half joking, that I'd enjoy seeing the Lakers lose. I was then confronted by a very serious Lakers fan asking for justification. I was caught off guard, because I thought that, in the Bay Area, you don't need a reason to hate the Lakers, it's just understood that they're the villains, like Confederate Soldiers. And beyond that, I just wanted to see the underdog beat the favorite (that's valid, right?), but in that moment, I found myself in a serious argument, hurting someone's feelings about something I really did NOT give a shit about. It's really not AT ALL worth the joke.
Long story short, here I am. The uncomfortable, humorless, enthusiasm-feigning Dexter Morgan of sports. So if you're like me, go forth with this wisdom and quietly blend in.
Go team.
Friday, October 5, 2012
On Self-Love And Lack Thereof
A weird thing happens when you find yourself more alone than you used to be (Weird phrasing, but deliberate. Shut up and humor me.). You turn a lens on yourself in a way you didn't before. People tell me it's a chance to grow, to figure things out. I hope they're right. Because what the fuck else am I gonna do with my time?
It's a messy process. You start with painful questions, but slowly hone in on the more important, more existential, still-painful questions. "Who is going to love me?" becomes "Why would anyone love me?" becomes "What is there to love about me?", and the distinction between those is important. (Eventually the questions devolve into "Oh God, who AM I?" and "WHY IS ANYTHING?!?!?" but let's get back to the love part.)... Because the progression from love to self-love is a crucial, elusive, and maddening step to take.
Self-love has never come to me easily (or at all), but I recognize, objectively, its importance. That said, I've composed a list of the things about me that one could potentially love.
1.) I'm pretty cool once you get to know me.
S'all I have so far. But it's a positive statement that I can say about myself with sincerity. So I guess it's a start. (Nevermind that it's also the cop-out "compliment" that you can also use to describe any asshole friend that your other friends hate.)
And so I finish the post as I finish many other things in life. Inconclusive and confused. There's not always a pretty line to end with, some neat conclusion in summation of victory or defeat. I'm still working on it. I haven't figured it out. And it's possible that I never will. But I should probably keep trying. Because what the fuck else am I gonna do with my time?
Not everyone is as grim as me. If, perhaps, you would like the uplifting counter to this depressing post, you may enjoy this post by my friend Regina.
It's a messy process. You start with painful questions, but slowly hone in on the more important, more existential, still-painful questions. "Who is going to love me?" becomes "Why would anyone love me?" becomes "What is there to love about me?", and the distinction between those is important. (Eventually the questions devolve into "Oh God, who AM I?" and "WHY IS ANYTHING?!?!?" but let's get back to the love part.)... Because the progression from love to self-love is a crucial, elusive, and maddening step to take.
Self-love has never come to me easily (or at all), but I recognize, objectively, its importance. That said, I've composed a list of the things about me that one could potentially love.
1.) I'm pretty cool once you get to know me.
S'all I have so far. But it's a positive statement that I can say about myself with sincerity. So I guess it's a start. (Nevermind that it's also the cop-out "compliment" that you can also use to describe any asshole friend that your other friends hate.)
And so I finish the post as I finish many other things in life. Inconclusive and confused. There's not always a pretty line to end with, some neat conclusion in summation of victory or defeat. I'm still working on it. I haven't figured it out. And it's possible that I never will. But I should probably keep trying. Because what the fuck else am I gonna do with my time?
Not everyone is as grim as me. If, perhaps, you would like the uplifting counter to this depressing post, you may enjoy this post by my friend Regina.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
On The Will Of God
My faith has changed. It has wavered, and evolved, and been compromised over and over again. That in itself can constitute an entire post. But for right now, let's talk about what we think God does.
We make a lot of guesses about the will of God, about His plan for us... But really, what if God's plan is to leave us to our own devices? Not to drop us hints, or send us gifts, or impose upon us challenges of strength and character, but to leave us alone? What if His "plan" has always been to make a world of fortune and misfortune occurring in equal randomness?
A lot of people, my mom especially, try to console me about recent events saying that God has a plan, or that everything happens for a reason. But isn't it entirely possible that not every bad thing that happens is lesson or test or challenge from God? And if we accept that, then not every good thing that happens is a gift from Him.
Yes, often times there's a silver lining that's easy to attribute to God. But other times, in the face of misfortune, it's much easier for me to accept that He is simply hands off than to rationalize why He chose to give us a particular tragedy.
It makes for a colder, more distant understanding of God.
But sometimes, for me, it makes more sense.
We make a lot of guesses about the will of God, about His plan for us... But really, what if God's plan is to leave us to our own devices? Not to drop us hints, or send us gifts, or impose upon us challenges of strength and character, but to leave us alone? What if His "plan" has always been to make a world of fortune and misfortune occurring in equal randomness?
A lot of people, my mom especially, try to console me about recent events saying that God has a plan, or that everything happens for a reason. But isn't it entirely possible that not every bad thing that happens is lesson or test or challenge from God? And if we accept that, then not every good thing that happens is a gift from Him.
Yes, often times there's a silver lining that's easy to attribute to God. But other times, in the face of misfortune, it's much easier for me to accept that He is simply hands off than to rationalize why He chose to give us a particular tragedy.
It makes for a colder, more distant understanding of God.
But sometimes, for me, it makes more sense.
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