Monthly Archives: October 2012

Tips for being human that won’t make you half-bad.

6 tricks to cease being mediocre.

1. Set goals. Make the plans that get you there fun. It’s not the journey, or the destination, but the fact that you recognize both are the same. If it’s, “My goal is to succeed as a photographer,” the plan is, “I’m gonna take pictures all the time and get noticed and enjoy both the labor of the shoot and the labor of the self-promoting.” The journey and the destination get really blurry when you realize the only place we’re all ending up is in the grave, and all the matters is the habits you make and keep and make and keep and make.
2. Learn the difference between your fake smile and your real smile. As soon as you can feel the difference on your face, you should find a way to get the real smile out of the fake feelings. That will make the fake feelings real. If it’s, “I’m smiling because I think my boyfriend is being stupid in his attempt to be funny,” it should be, “I’m smiling because I like my boyfriend’s sense of humor.”
3. Ask for everything you want as politely as you can while at the same time assuming you’re going to get it. If it’s, “If you could please take my shift tomorrow because I’m desperate and I have so much to do,” it should be, “I was going to be off-work tomorrow and made some plans before the schedule change, if it’s possible do you mind trading with me?”
4. Think about the last time that someone inconsequential (like a classmate) said anything and you worried about it for more than 5 minutes. Nobody. Ever. Right? Now realize that, to everyone, you are just a first-impression and a few sentences and you can stop taking yourself so seriously. If it’s, “I don’t want to answer a question in class because the professor and my classmates will laugh if I’m wrong,” it should be, “In my opinion, I think this is the answer, and I’m smiling while I say it so there’s no possible way I’m a jackass ’cause I’m cool and confident.”
5. Don’t talk about anyone or anything as if you pity them or are complaining about it. Negative words breed negative thoughts and they breed more negative words, but if you can come up with something nice to say – say it instead. It’s better than silence because you’ll learn to believe the good things coming out of your mouth. If it’s, “My boss is out to get me because he doesn’t think I can do this job and because we aren’t as close as he is with the other workers,” it should be, “My boss is doing everything he possibly can to use me to the best of his knowledge, and since he doesn’t know me very well he can only be making the greatest decisions that his power and understanding can.”
6. Tell yourself this when the day is too hard: “If I am trying to make the world a worse place, then I really don’t matter because that is impossible. People are like me and they screw up all day every day – and plenty of them are worse. But if I’m trying to make the world a better place – that is easy and I can do it fast and I can do it all the time, because the world gets better every time I help somebody and I can do that just with good words and good deeds. There are fewer people doing that than doing nothing, and that’s when I actually matter.”


Bicentennial Man

We read so much about our heroes, if we have them. We’ll chew on all the information we can about their successes, their talents, their lives, and occasionally we’ll be fascinated by some fact of failure in their “past”. Even if you don’t have heroes, you’re surrounded by the mythology of America; the Horatio Alger, rags-to-riches, I-overcame-adversity-by-the-skin-of-my-teeth mentality. But what we inherently miss the importance of, and what we should supremely value, is what the myth lacks in its superficial structure:
Failure, failure, failure, and more failure.

I only have a few examples of the people in whose presence I would feel myself a jackass. One of them is Joss Whedon, who – chronologically – has done one thing after another that I (and his paychecks, no doubt) call enormously successful, but which others might call categorical failures. Let’s face it: Buffy the Vampire Slayer was campy, Angel a spinoff, Firefly was canceled, Dollhouse ran less than 3 seasons, Speed and Serenity and The Cabin in the Woods appeal to niche audiences and the opposing kinds of audiences for each are always highly critical due to their misinterpretation of the text (e.g.: the layman’s review,

OH BUT OH WAIT. IS ANYONE LOOKING. GUY CO-WROTE TOY STORY. AND AVENGERS. 3RD-HIGHEST GROSSING FILM OF ALL TIME.
And yet he doesn’t qualify for universal respect. Shocking.

You know, I’d also feel myself a real jerk if I were sitting in a room with Thomas Edison. Say what you will about Tesla, but Edison was a badass as well. For as long as I can remember, so from at least the time I was 7, I’ve had this time-transcendent crush on Edison. I don’t know why, but I grew up always consuming biographies about people with disabilities: Louis Braille, Thomas Edison, Helen Keller – blind, deaf, blind and deaf. I won’t talk about Edison and the Lumiere brothers, or Edison and Tesla (though if you want an informed and balanced opinion, measure this: based upon your own scale of authorial ethos).

What I will talk about is Edison and his work on Bell’s telephone. He is, to me, an example of invention and entrepreneurship – which, damnit, is the hardest balance to strike but probably the most necessary. It never, ever, EVER matters what you do or make if too few people know you’re doing or making it. This starts with lies – who cares if no one notices? And ends with telephones – thank you, Edison and Charles Batchelor, for phonograph parlors. ()

Edison had ear infections growing up and was so deaf by the time he worked on phonographs that he had to bite the instruments and hear sound through the rattling of his skullbones (). He cared so much about other people hearing things (and marketing those things to hearing-abled people!).

Me, at present. I’m reading a book by John C. Maxwell called Failing Forward. It’s encouraging business and self-help propaganda that most would probably quietly regard as goulash. But Maxwell makes a few key points as he succeeds in teaching me to not be afraid of my screw-ups:

The difference between people who achieve whatever they want, people who achieve whatever, and people who don’t achieve is this: the ones who do whatever they want perceive and respond to failure differently. It’s usually not a, “pick-yourself-up-dust-yourself-off” attitude, but more of an, “I do not need time to recover I will just do whatever I planned to do, immediately.”

It’s the essence of YOLO, really. Carpe diem. Passive versus aggressive. One of the problems my cohorts frequently cite when talking about why they haven’t done something – anything! ask a girl out! write a book! – is fear of failing. But, c’mon. I, personally, wouldn’t love Whedon so much if he weren’t a bit of an underdog. He is made so much BIGGER to me by his “big”, so-called “failures”. We love that part that’s missing in the myth. Like Edison –  some deaf inventor guy who spent his life literally chewing on the phonograph. You remember your teachers buying those well-marketed posters from Mardels Christian Bookstore and all they said was some bastardized version of, “Success is this: ‘I have not failed 1,000 times.  I have successfully discovered 1,000 ways to NOT make a light bulb,'” and we hemmed and hawed and ignored them or just kept quiet and colored?

Well sheesh. I wanna be one of the 1 or 2 of every 100 people who DO what we say we’re going to do. Who GETS what she wants because she doesn’t care (i.e., is fearless). And everybody can have a copy of my every screw-up along the way, because I want us all to to know exactly how big and great I am by how much I’ve ignored and bullied through.

I only hope I can pick up and drag and push and pull and tug and tussle with as many people as possible in the wake of my success. I wanna teach people to take chances. Raise the stakes. Risk and risk and risk and risk until risking 1 thing becomes so easy that you have to risk something else instead. The first thing you’ll always risk is your pride – whether you want to be a musician, an entrepreneur, or an auteur. The average of 98 to 99 out of 100 people is the risks they have in common: they risk losing themselves in relationships, marriages, careers with soulless bosses, mindless jobs, having kids, or – worse – losing themselves in complete inactivity. If you’re going to risk something, don’t risk all the shit that makes you who you are (or who you want to be). Risk a little time, a little money, a little money, a little pride, a little energy. Get bigger than your obstacles or risk not getting big at all.

You’re just gonna die whispering, “I have this one idea, but no, no – I can’t explain it.”


I’m addicted to my own sins.

I’m tightly wound around the pretentiousness of my own ambiguity, but to break the paradigm, lemme esplain:

I am pretty partial to this pair of ideas: that I am conceited, and incomprehensible. Why would I care to exhibit and boast either of these traits, though? Because they are inherently value judgments on my character, and if I judge myself so harshly it allows me to believe that others must, undoubtedly, be paying just enough attention to judge. I’ll reiterate without modifiers: “Because I believe others must be paying attention.”
Lemme reiterate and rearrange the syntagmatic and one paradgimatic and make an addendum: “Because I must believe others [are] paying attention [to me].”
Must in the 2nd definition: “under the necessity to”. The example given at dictionary.com is as dire as, “[a]nimals must eat to live.” I won’t cease to live if I don’t think people are paying attention, but I will cease to make progress. And as soon as I recognize stagnation, I go somersaulting backwards.

I’m not sure for whose sake, but I have some evidence of the person I’ve been in only the past month. In order of importance:
A Rubenesque and greedy malcontent in a size-2 culture who refuses to control her spending on caloric intake (and is compulsive-impulsive when food is free).
An indifferent escort, reluctant to be stamped but desiring the amour of her suitor and admiring his personhood while simultaneously being selfish and boorish and coy enough to withhold the ideals of commitment or fidelity.
An unceasingly loving boss but a somewhat-defiant subordinate with a paranoiac complex and an inconsistent self-manager who cries when you make her alone for more than four hours.
A nonexistent sister or daughter and an unambitious student and a wholly absent musician and a timeshare kind of friend.

In short, in many ways ugly.