OK, Kids here is part two of my aside that I'm writing for a friend who very kindly asked how I got to be so screwed up.
So we left off in junior high where I was learning to play guitar and trying to write lyrics that didn't suck. What really got me going was copying lyrics down and studying them without the music to see how they stood on there own. The next thing that helped was doing the whole "Weird Al" thing, doing parodies, usually nasty, dirty, quadruple X parodies (Hey, I was fourteen, after all) (of course, now I'm forty and still do it from time to time)
The thing that put me over the edge as far as my literary search was a biography of Jim Morrison-"No One Here Gets Out Alive" a good friend of mine told me I 'had' to read it. To this day, I'm glad I did.
What I found inside this book changed the course of my life. I discovered the music of The Doors which totally blew me away. 60's music to me at that point was my Mom's music, The Beach Boys, Motown, The Mamas and The Papas, Neil fricken Diamond...I could give a shit less. But, the first time I heard "End of the Night" by the Doors, I freaked, this was the soundtrack to the darkness that dwell inside. This was the sound that pervaded my dreams. I was totally hooked.
But much more than discovering The Doors, I learned about Jim Morrison, the way he lived life, his philosophy, his poetry and his madness. I got turned on to the realities of the 60's counterculture. The Beat writers, Timothy Leary, Norman Mailer, Aldous Huxley, Arthur Rimbaud, William Blake, all of Jim's literary influences.
Then, I grabbed my library card and went completely ape shit!
It took me years to go through all of the material indicated in that one book.
It was time well spent.
But, during this time I also, slowly, painfully got better at playing the guitar. I took lessons, learned from friends, bought books, magazines, tapes, played two to three hours at night while babysitting my little sister while waiting for my mom to get home from work. (Yep, a latchkey kid, ahh, the 80's).
So little by little both of these endeavors progressed in my angry little brain.
The only down side to this time was the beginning of my drug use. Taking the long view, now, I wouldn't change much. (I probably wouldn't do as much acid as I did in high school but that's about it) but as William Blake said "The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom."
Again I was influenced by Morrison. Looking inside my skull for the answers to the mysteries of the universe. And (much to Nancy Reagan's chagrin) I did learn a few things, about myself, my limits, my own philosophy, what I wanted out of life and what I was willing to do to get it.
But, it all wasn't as completely organized as I make it sound. There was a lot of craziness and mistakes along the way.
And that, kids, is exactly the kind of stuff you write about!!!
Well, it looks this might need to go on to a part three!!
Next time around, we'll get into the nooks and crannies of how I write.
Drop me a note and let me know what you think!!
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Inspiration, Music and Madness-A Child's Tale
This week's blog post comes from the suggestion of a friend. They asked me to write something about me, my motivations and inspiration and that aha moment that made me want to be an artist.
It turned out to be a more complicated task than I thought.
As I look back I can't remember a time when I wasn't drawing or singing or telling my parents outlandish stories. Now, of course, all children do this, but for me, some of my most powerful memories from childhood revolve around having a deep connection to music.
As a kid I used to sneak into my uncle's room at my grandparent's house to play with the old electric organ that he had in his room. I wrote my first song on that organ, "The Darkest Night" at probably 9 or 10. It's funny how I remember the song name after all of this time but can't remember anything else about it. Having absolutely no clue what I was doing I doubt it was any good. But, it was a start.
About this same time I started getting serious about reading and, to a lesser extent, writing. I remember writing and illustrating my first book a few years earlier for a class assignment in the 3rd grade. "Vampires from Space". I don't think it was exactly what Mrs. Stein, my reading teacher, was expecting, but I still got an A.
From about the age of 10, I started reading seriously, I had an above average reading level and my mother started buying me the classics. I remember for Christmas that year (1982) I got "Treasure Island", "Black Beauty" and "A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court". I devoured these books. The Mark Twain book was, by far, my favorite and my mother didn't hold me back from checking out "Tom Sawyer" and "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" from the library.
Over the next few years I devoured all the books I could get my hands on. I read everything, H.G. Wells, Jules Verne, Edgar Rice Burroughs, Mary Shelley (although, Frankenstein bored the hell out of me, I managed to finish it.) Madeline L'Engle (A Wrinkle in Time is still one of my all time favorites).
By the time I was in the sixth grade I discovered S.E. Hinton and Stephan King and many more authors than I can't remember right now, but through that whole period, I was never without a book.
Now, about this time-6th grade-7th grade-I began a serious turn back toward music. Thanks to the kids on my school bus, I got turned on to Heavy Metal!!
My parents listened to country music (and some old tired 50's doo-wop) so this was a totally new sound to me. I was quickly, totally, into Ozzy and Motley Crue, Ratt, Judas Priest, Grim Reaper, Metallica.
I had to get involved in this! I had to get a guitar!
So in the 7th grade I traded a microscope I got for Christmas for an acoustic guitar. I started writing my own songs (before I could actually play the damned guitar).
The link between literature and music for me came in Miss Adams 7th grade English class. Part of her curriculum included a semester of poetry. We were assigned poems that he had to memorize and recite in front of the class. The one that sticks out in my mind was "Charge of the Light Brigade" by Tennyson. This poem was epic. It had BALLS. It brought to mind Metallica or Iron Maiden lyrics.With this, I was off on a new path of discovery.
It was then that I started taking music and literature seriously. The two were fused in my mind. I started studying poetry and practicing it as ardently as I did learning to play guitar.
My path was set. This was what I needed to do!
Well, folks, it looks like I'll have to carry this over into a part two!!
Feel free to chime in with comments or questions and I'll continue the story soon.
It turned out to be a more complicated task than I thought.
As I look back I can't remember a time when I wasn't drawing or singing or telling my parents outlandish stories. Now, of course, all children do this, but for me, some of my most powerful memories from childhood revolve around having a deep connection to music.
As a kid I used to sneak into my uncle's room at my grandparent's house to play with the old electric organ that he had in his room. I wrote my first song on that organ, "The Darkest Night" at probably 9 or 10. It's funny how I remember the song name after all of this time but can't remember anything else about it. Having absolutely no clue what I was doing I doubt it was any good. But, it was a start.
About this same time I started getting serious about reading and, to a lesser extent, writing. I remember writing and illustrating my first book a few years earlier for a class assignment in the 3rd grade. "Vampires from Space". I don't think it was exactly what Mrs. Stein, my reading teacher, was expecting, but I still got an A.
From about the age of 10, I started reading seriously, I had an above average reading level and my mother started buying me the classics. I remember for Christmas that year (1982) I got "Treasure Island", "Black Beauty" and "A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court". I devoured these books. The Mark Twain book was, by far, my favorite and my mother didn't hold me back from checking out "Tom Sawyer" and "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" from the library.
Over the next few years I devoured all the books I could get my hands on. I read everything, H.G. Wells, Jules Verne, Edgar Rice Burroughs, Mary Shelley (although, Frankenstein bored the hell out of me, I managed to finish it.) Madeline L'Engle (A Wrinkle in Time is still one of my all time favorites).
By the time I was in the sixth grade I discovered S.E. Hinton and Stephan King and many more authors than I can't remember right now, but through that whole period, I was never without a book.
Now, about this time-6th grade-7th grade-I began a serious turn back toward music. Thanks to the kids on my school bus, I got turned on to Heavy Metal!!
My parents listened to country music (and some old tired 50's doo-wop) so this was a totally new sound to me. I was quickly, totally, into Ozzy and Motley Crue, Ratt, Judas Priest, Grim Reaper, Metallica.
I had to get involved in this! I had to get a guitar!
So in the 7th grade I traded a microscope I got for Christmas for an acoustic guitar. I started writing my own songs (before I could actually play the damned guitar).
The link between literature and music for me came in Miss Adams 7th grade English class. Part of her curriculum included a semester of poetry. We were assigned poems that he had to memorize and recite in front of the class. The one that sticks out in my mind was "Charge of the Light Brigade" by Tennyson. This poem was epic. It had BALLS. It brought to mind Metallica or Iron Maiden lyrics.With this, I was off on a new path of discovery.
It was then that I started taking music and literature seriously. The two were fused in my mind. I started studying poetry and practicing it as ardently as I did learning to play guitar.
My path was set. This was what I needed to do!
Well, folks, it looks like I'll have to carry this over into a part two!!
Feel free to chime in with comments or questions and I'll continue the story soon.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Tales of a Tardy Poet
Hey, all.
I am finally back to waste a bit of your time and cost you a few pennies in electricity. It's been an interesting couple of weeks and I've been having the best time so, nope, nothing to complain about this time around! Just a few observations by way of update.
I've been on a poetry kick, here the past couple of weeks. I joined a poetry site I discovered via twitter-21stcenturypoets.com and have developed some very cool poems from picture prompt contests! It is good for me because it allows me to stretch a bit and write about subjects I normally would not entertain. I wrote a poem about Cinderella from a picture prompt that turned out nicely! (Yes, kids, quit rubbing your eyes in manic disbelief-I did just say Cinderella!)
Work on the book has been slow, I'm struggling a bit with the scope and how much more I want/need to tell. (My length is way above first novel length-If I carry out the tale as first conceived, it would, damn near, be twice so.) So, I'm just trudging along telling it my way and saving the editing for a later date!
My band played out Saturday at the Hi-Port in Higginsport, OH, for their anniversary party/annual hog roast! It was a beautiful night, the crowd was awesome and the band played really, really well! We put a lot of work into preparing for the show and it really paid off. I was very happy!
It's interesting, the people you meet at gigs like these, the Hi-Port has a rough reputation (totally undeserved) and is frequented by bikers and other travelers as it sits right beside Highway 52. The regulars there are awesome and I've played there so much these past couple of years, I am slowly becoming part of them.
This night the crowd was large and there were a lot of people there I'd never met. The most interesting conversation of the night goes to a little gray-haired cat. He was right in front when we were playing and told us we were the best band he'd ever seen live, (he was drunk, kids). So after being regaled with stories of bands he'd seen and places he's been (jail and otherwise) he tells me he's a member of the Aryan brotherhood and lifts up his shirt to reveal the most complete piece of Nazi propaganda in tattoo form that I'd ever seen.
I didn't know whether to punch him straight in the head for being completely ignorant or ask him who had done his work. (It was all beautifully done- fantastic renderings of complete trash!!!..Oh, the zen of it all)
Not wanting to end up in jail (and still having another set to play) I side stepped the discussion of white power and asked about the work. Thankfully, it was time to go back on and my band mate Greg extracted me from the ludicrous situation. Also, thankfully, the guy disappeared about 3/4 of the way through the next set.
But, like I was telling Greg on our way back in, it is never the hot chicks, it's always the crazies! C'est La Vie, I guess.
At, least Mon Vie!
More later!
The Glass Slipper
What night in joyous hearts await
as heaven comes to rest
Birthed of storied angels
Aphrodite's spell possessed
This girl
This waif of light and song
dare stir my heart to rise
her countenance obsequious
her smile of fairest skies
A single dance is all we share
lost in her lonely grace
I ponder long apostasy
to wake in her embrace
Too quickly, I am left bereft
as the bells of Midnight toll
A single tiny slipper found
to lead me to my goal
I am finally back to waste a bit of your time and cost you a few pennies in electricity. It's been an interesting couple of weeks and I've been having the best time so, nope, nothing to complain about this time around! Just a few observations by way of update.
I've been on a poetry kick, here the past couple of weeks. I joined a poetry site I discovered via twitter-21stcenturypoets.com and have developed some very cool poems from picture prompt contests! It is good for me because it allows me to stretch a bit and write about subjects I normally would not entertain. I wrote a poem about Cinderella from a picture prompt that turned out nicely! (Yes, kids, quit rubbing your eyes in manic disbelief-I did just say Cinderella!)
Work on the book has been slow, I'm struggling a bit with the scope and how much more I want/need to tell. (My length is way above first novel length-If I carry out the tale as first conceived, it would, damn near, be twice so.) So, I'm just trudging along telling it my way and saving the editing for a later date!
My band played out Saturday at the Hi-Port in Higginsport, OH, for their anniversary party/annual hog roast! It was a beautiful night, the crowd was awesome and the band played really, really well! We put a lot of work into preparing for the show and it really paid off. I was very happy!
It's interesting, the people you meet at gigs like these, the Hi-Port has a rough reputation (totally undeserved) and is frequented by bikers and other travelers as it sits right beside Highway 52. The regulars there are awesome and I've played there so much these past couple of years, I am slowly becoming part of them.
This night the crowd was large and there were a lot of people there I'd never met. The most interesting conversation of the night goes to a little gray-haired cat. He was right in front when we were playing and told us we were the best band he'd ever seen live, (he was drunk, kids). So after being regaled with stories of bands he'd seen and places he's been (jail and otherwise) he tells me he's a member of the Aryan brotherhood and lifts up his shirt to reveal the most complete piece of Nazi propaganda in tattoo form that I'd ever seen.
I didn't know whether to punch him straight in the head for being completely ignorant or ask him who had done his work. (It was all beautifully done- fantastic renderings of complete trash!!!..Oh, the zen of it all)
Not wanting to end up in jail (and still having another set to play) I side stepped the discussion of white power and asked about the work. Thankfully, it was time to go back on and my band mate Greg extracted me from the ludicrous situation. Also, thankfully, the guy disappeared about 3/4 of the way through the next set.
But, like I was telling Greg on our way back in, it is never the hot chicks, it's always the crazies! C'est La Vie, I guess.
At, least Mon Vie!
More later!
The Glass Slipper
What night in joyous hearts await
as heaven comes to rest
Birthed of storied angels
Aphrodite's spell possessed
This girl
This waif of light and song
dare stir my heart to rise
her countenance obsequious
her smile of fairest skies
A single dance is all we share
lost in her lonely grace
I ponder long apostasy
to wake in her embrace
Too quickly, I am left bereft
as the bells of Midnight toll
A single tiny slipper found
to lead me to my goal
Friday, May 18, 2012
Love, Life and Letters
Here I am again, kids, two weeks behind on the blogging!! I guess it's a good thing that nothing has pissed me off enough to have to blog but I, at least. should have stopped by and said hello!
I have had a few minor irritations this week but not really enough to base a blog on. Work on the book has been slow but steady. I've made acquaintance with a wonderful Australian author now living in Switzerland, Derek Haines. He has a spy book out called "Louis" which I have just started. It is very good, and shouldn't take long to finish. It's an easy read and really pulls you through. Check him out on Amazon!
I've squeaked out a few short poems over the past few weeks. I wrote an interesting one today from a poetry prompt from a site called 21st century poets. It turned out really well and is available for view on my facebook page. It's written from the view of someone who has experienced the afterlife. Now, of course, me being me, it doesn't exactly fit into premeditated forms or extant theories.
I took an opportunity this week to read huge sections of letter of one of my literary favorites, William S. Burroughs. If you've never read Naked Lunch or The Nova Express your missing out! The surrealistic plots and characters are a study in brilliance.
Now there, kids, is a dying art-- letter writing. My fellow Gen X'rs are probably the last ones that actually wrote letters, if nothing more than the crazy love notes passed in the halls at school! It's mostly text messages or e-mail, now. But, alas, it's just not the same. You had to invest soul, sense, and emotion in letters. You had to SAY IT, Putting yourself out there in precious cognitive order. Now, it's all fragmented in a hundred texts a day in an abbreviated language our grandparents wouldn't recognize. I'm not saying it's bad, but in Burroughs' letters (written in the hip jargon of that time) you can see the warmth and the intervals between letter and response, chunks of time spent wondering if all was well with friends scattered from San Fran to North Africa. Now, the response is instantaneous, and so the language is cheaper, the emotional investment, less.
Now, I am a huge fan of all of the beat writers, Ginsberg, Kerouac, Corso, Burroughs, Snyder, McClure. I identify with their "outsider" legacy. I identify with their literary and societal rebellion. I identify with the idea that to change society you have to first free your mind. That life is better spent chasing your dreams, loving your friends and just having a good fucking time, man, turning up the radio to DANCE! Write-Sing-Chant-Scream. Live life to it's fullest!!!
Now, I know what you're thinking, kids.
"Well, that's all well and good there, Mr. Poet Buddy, but some of us have to work!"
True, but you don't have to BE your job. You can't let commerce control your life! Or else your going to find yourself rolling around on your death bed with some serious fucking regrets and you know you can't take it with you!
It's like that Don Henley song says, "You don't see any hearses with luggage racks."
I have had a few minor irritations this week but not really enough to base a blog on. Work on the book has been slow but steady. I've made acquaintance with a wonderful Australian author now living in Switzerland, Derek Haines. He has a spy book out called "Louis" which I have just started. It is very good, and shouldn't take long to finish. It's an easy read and really pulls you through. Check him out on Amazon!
I've squeaked out a few short poems over the past few weeks. I wrote an interesting one today from a poetry prompt from a site called 21st century poets. It turned out really well and is available for view on my facebook page. It's written from the view of someone who has experienced the afterlife. Now, of course, me being me, it doesn't exactly fit into premeditated forms or extant theories.
I took an opportunity this week to read huge sections of letter of one of my literary favorites, William S. Burroughs. If you've never read Naked Lunch or The Nova Express your missing out! The surrealistic plots and characters are a study in brilliance.
Now there, kids, is a dying art-- letter writing. My fellow Gen X'rs are probably the last ones that actually wrote letters, if nothing more than the crazy love notes passed in the halls at school! It's mostly text messages or e-mail, now. But, alas, it's just not the same. You had to invest soul, sense, and emotion in letters. You had to SAY IT, Putting yourself out there in precious cognitive order. Now, it's all fragmented in a hundred texts a day in an abbreviated language our grandparents wouldn't recognize. I'm not saying it's bad, but in Burroughs' letters (written in the hip jargon of that time) you can see the warmth and the intervals between letter and response, chunks of time spent wondering if all was well with friends scattered from San Fran to North Africa. Now, the response is instantaneous, and so the language is cheaper, the emotional investment, less.
Now, I am a huge fan of all of the beat writers, Ginsberg, Kerouac, Corso, Burroughs, Snyder, McClure. I identify with their "outsider" legacy. I identify with their literary and societal rebellion. I identify with the idea that to change society you have to first free your mind. That life is better spent chasing your dreams, loving your friends and just having a good fucking time, man, turning up the radio to DANCE! Write-Sing-Chant-Scream. Live life to it's fullest!!!
Now, I know what you're thinking, kids.
"Well, that's all well and good there, Mr. Poet Buddy, but some of us have to work!"
True, but you don't have to BE your job. You can't let commerce control your life! Or else your going to find yourself rolling around on your death bed with some serious fucking regrets and you know you can't take it with you!
It's like that Don Henley song says, "You don't see any hearses with luggage racks."
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Politicians and Perception
My rant this week is about is about the way we view politicians in this country.(Sorry, kids, if this is too heavy a subject, but, it topped the list of things that aggravated me this week so it's what I'm going with.)
A lot of the right wing newscasts this week have wasted a lot of air time complaining about Obama doing the student loan thing on Jimmy Fallon. They also wasted a lot of oxygen on Hilary Clinton taking time out to have a couple of beers and shake her booty during her visit to Colombia. (Probably the tamest thing that went on in Colombia that week).
They said this is not the sort of behavior that our nations leaders should exhibit. Of course, they failed to mention Mitt Romney's appearance on Letterman doing the Top 10 list, or, going way back, to Nixon's appearance on Laugh In in the late 60's. This, however, is not really surprising. It's only reprehensible to them when it's something the Democrat's do. Fair and balanced, kids, fair and balanced.
That said, I don't have a problem with conservative beliefs. Some of them I agree with, some I don't. The same thing goes with liberal beliefs. What gets my goat is the attempted polarization that some in the media seek to inflict, on both sides of the spectrum.
Life is way too complicated to deal with in this manner. Politics are way too complicated to deal with in this manner. Anyone that tells you any different is either a fool or has a perverse agenda.
Now, it doesn't bother me in the least to see The President on Jimmy Fallon. It doesn't bother me at all to see Hillary Clinton have a beer and a turn on the dance floor. I thought Romney was a good sport on Letterman (a bit stiff, perhaps, but he's not an actor)(Dutch would have nailed it!) It shows they are...........wait for it............HUMAN!
That is what I look for in a politician, actual red American blood, with a sense of humor, an ability to be self-deprecating, an imagination, an ability to walk a way from the job for a minute, have fun and blow off steam. You can't be effective in any high pressure job without the ability to decompress and unwind.
Unfortunately, I think, the people who are best suited for politics are the ones who wouldn't dare get involved. The media (on both sides) crank the glare of the spotlight up so much that hardly anyone can stand up to its glow. So, hardly anyone of substance (with more than a little common sense) dares offer themselves up for it.
So (most of the time) we are left with idealogues and extremists. People so committed to their own inanity that compromise is impossible. People who seek to impose their own version of reality on everyone instead of approaching problems with an open mind. It is this arrogance of will that permeates national politics today. It is this mentality that creates contention and conflict instead of searching for solutions. These people want to win not compromise. So this is the mess we are left with.
Congress has been hovering at a 9% approval rate for this very reason and until our perceptions of who we support for these offices change, until we do our own research and demand answers, not allowing ourselves to be influenced by the perceptions of corporate media (who have a very vested interest in the outcome) we will continue to sputter down this same dismal route.
A lot of the right wing newscasts this week have wasted a lot of air time complaining about Obama doing the student loan thing on Jimmy Fallon. They also wasted a lot of oxygen on Hilary Clinton taking time out to have a couple of beers and shake her booty during her visit to Colombia. (Probably the tamest thing that went on in Colombia that week).
They said this is not the sort of behavior that our nations leaders should exhibit. Of course, they failed to mention Mitt Romney's appearance on Letterman doing the Top 10 list, or, going way back, to Nixon's appearance on Laugh In in the late 60's. This, however, is not really surprising. It's only reprehensible to them when it's something the Democrat's do. Fair and balanced, kids, fair and balanced.
That said, I don't have a problem with conservative beliefs. Some of them I agree with, some I don't. The same thing goes with liberal beliefs. What gets my goat is the attempted polarization that some in the media seek to inflict, on both sides of the spectrum.
Life is way too complicated to deal with in this manner. Politics are way too complicated to deal with in this manner. Anyone that tells you any different is either a fool or has a perverse agenda.
Now, it doesn't bother me in the least to see The President on Jimmy Fallon. It doesn't bother me at all to see Hillary Clinton have a beer and a turn on the dance floor. I thought Romney was a good sport on Letterman (a bit stiff, perhaps, but he's not an actor)(Dutch would have nailed it!) It shows they are...........wait for it............HUMAN!
That is what I look for in a politician, actual red American blood, with a sense of humor, an ability to be self-deprecating, an imagination, an ability to walk a way from the job for a minute, have fun and blow off steam. You can't be effective in any high pressure job without the ability to decompress and unwind.
Unfortunately, I think, the people who are best suited for politics are the ones who wouldn't dare get involved. The media (on both sides) crank the glare of the spotlight up so much that hardly anyone can stand up to its glow. So, hardly anyone of substance (with more than a little common sense) dares offer themselves up for it.
So (most of the time) we are left with idealogues and extremists. People so committed to their own inanity that compromise is impossible. People who seek to impose their own version of reality on everyone instead of approaching problems with an open mind. It is this arrogance of will that permeates national politics today. It is this mentality that creates contention and conflict instead of searching for solutions. These people want to win not compromise. So this is the mess we are left with.
Congress has been hovering at a 9% approval rate for this very reason and until our perceptions of who we support for these offices change, until we do our own research and demand answers, not allowing ourselves to be influenced by the perceptions of corporate media (who have a very vested interest in the outcome) we will continue to sputter down this same dismal route.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Un-reality
OK Folks, my rant for this week is about reality. Yes, you read correctly...Reality. Reality T.V. and real reality.
Let's ease into this with a look at reality T.V.
I hate reality T.V. Specifically, the shows that award cash and prizes. You know the ones. I can't name them for legal reasons but we've all seen them. People prostituting themselves to be herded together on tropical islands or locked away in a house to behave like immature, scheming, bastards, lying and crying on national T.V. for cash and prizes. The bigger the bastards the better the ratings. Expensive advertising budgets spent wagering on moral ineptitude and vacuous personality.
That is bad enough, but then there are far MORE people that are addicted to these shows. Yep, real reality. People that actually plan their weeks and program their DVR's to keep them up on the latest hi-jinks of these sad people. Perhaps, it is a character flaw of some kind on my part but I just cannot comprehend the desire to watch people behave in this manner. Having raised children, I understand and expect this behavior FROM CHILDREN but I have no desire to watch adults behaving in this manner. I find it disgusting. I don't care how much money is at stake.
The next batch of reality shows I loathe are the deadliest ones. Should be description enough. My problem with these shows, though, lie solely on the audience. These shows portray men and women doing their best to earn a living doing a thankless and dangerous job. I will admit some people watch these shows admiring the bravery and were withal these people portray but I'm afraid far more people are attracted to them waiting for someone to die. The same reason they watch car races, daredevils, and bog down traffic at an automobile accident, hoping to catch a glimpse of gore.
Perhaps, the mystery of our own mortality binds us to this morbid fascination as the face of death will eventually be our own. Or perhaps, we have not moved far as a species from the spectacle of death played out in the Roman arenas of antiquity. I just hope we're not backsliding into a more vicious state.
Let's ease into this with a look at reality T.V.
I hate reality T.V. Specifically, the shows that award cash and prizes. You know the ones. I can't name them for legal reasons but we've all seen them. People prostituting themselves to be herded together on tropical islands or locked away in a house to behave like immature, scheming, bastards, lying and crying on national T.V. for cash and prizes. The bigger the bastards the better the ratings. Expensive advertising budgets spent wagering on moral ineptitude and vacuous personality.
That is bad enough, but then there are far MORE people that are addicted to these shows. Yep, real reality. People that actually plan their weeks and program their DVR's to keep them up on the latest hi-jinks of these sad people. Perhaps, it is a character flaw of some kind on my part but I just cannot comprehend the desire to watch people behave in this manner. Having raised children, I understand and expect this behavior FROM CHILDREN but I have no desire to watch adults behaving in this manner. I find it disgusting. I don't care how much money is at stake.
The next batch of reality shows I loathe are the deadliest ones. Should be description enough. My problem with these shows, though, lie solely on the audience. These shows portray men and women doing their best to earn a living doing a thankless and dangerous job. I will admit some people watch these shows admiring the bravery and were withal these people portray but I'm afraid far more people are attracted to them waiting for someone to die. The same reason they watch car races, daredevils, and bog down traffic at an automobile accident, hoping to catch a glimpse of gore.
Perhaps, the mystery of our own mortality binds us to this morbid fascination as the face of death will eventually be our own. Or perhaps, we have not moved far as a species from the spectacle of death played out in the Roman arenas of antiquity. I just hope we're not backsliding into a more vicious state.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Random Synaptic Flatulence
Back at the blog!!
This is my first post in over a month and according to Robert Brewer (his name is NOT Bob), I should be ashamed of my silly self. In doing research for the creation of my artists platform, I discovered his blog and have found some solid advise on how to do this. One of the things he stresses is that my blog should be consistent. Once every other day or once a week, on time, every time, onward into infinity.
Now the next thing, to get followers, I need to engage in social media i.e. Facebook and Twitter and comment on things and invite friends to read my blog. This little experiment with my friends on Facebook has failed miserably (except for two good friends-and God bless both of you!!) My random musings just haven't cut the mustard. I don't really know what people were expecting to see but it obviously wasn't what was there.
So, WTF do I do?
I joined Twitter at the urging of Mr. Brewer and started following literary types, musicians, my favorite comedians, etc. It's only been a couple of weeks so I'm going to say the jury is still out. I did manage to attract two followers that first week. A indie music producer in Canada (shout out to B-Ry) and a German winemaker. That's right, kiddies, a German winemaker?!? I don't know how. I don't know why. Perhaps my unique sense of humor tickles the Teutonic funny bone. I don't know, but I'm grateful to have them, (now if I can talk them into sending me a sampler we'll be in business!!!)
So, now my next task is to get this blog on track. Which would be just fan-freakin-tastic if I had any crazy inkling on what to do with it.
Posting poetry isn't getting it. Talking about my journey as a writer isn't getting it (but, hell, I'm going to post this anyway) I tried to get some friends (musicians and poets) to share this space and post whatever they were doing. Nobody bit. I then tried to get a photographer friend to send me stuff to help give her a forum. (Not that it's much of a forum). But she wasn't digging it, either.
Now what?
I know no one wants to listen to me complain, (like now). But I am at a genuine loss. I thought about reviewing my daily grind, but that's part of what bores the hell out of me about Facebook. I mean really, I could give a shit less about what you're fixing for dinner. I'm certainly glad that you're able to afford to eat but I don't need the details.
That said, no, I can't pinpoint the exact moment when I got to be a grouchy old bastard, though, I think it was more of a gradual evolution than a paradigm shift.
But along this route I think I may have actually found my niche....bitching! I mean, hell, Andy Rooney ended his long and storied career closing out the 60 minutes broadcast with one of his rants. If I didn't watch any of the rest of the broadcast I tried to tune in and see what he was on about.....So.....
Maybe that can be the gig for this blog. My rants and raves for the week!! The more I think about it the more I like it. Even if no one reads the damn thing, I'll feel better. I think my wife and kids might like the fact that I have a place to vent without having to bend their ear.
This just might be a win-win.
It won't distract or take away from my novels or poetry and can double as a great writing exercise as I try to put a well written spin on whatever is stuck in my craw.
I really think this might have some legs, folks. It's worth a shot!
Stay tuned..........................................
This is my first post in over a month and according to Robert Brewer (his name is NOT Bob), I should be ashamed of my silly self. In doing research for the creation of my artists platform, I discovered his blog and have found some solid advise on how to do this. One of the things he stresses is that my blog should be consistent. Once every other day or once a week, on time, every time, onward into infinity.
Now the next thing, to get followers, I need to engage in social media i.e. Facebook and Twitter and comment on things and invite friends to read my blog. This little experiment with my friends on Facebook has failed miserably (except for two good friends-and God bless both of you!!) My random musings just haven't cut the mustard. I don't really know what people were expecting to see but it obviously wasn't what was there.
So, WTF do I do?
I joined Twitter at the urging of Mr. Brewer and started following literary types, musicians, my favorite comedians, etc. It's only been a couple of weeks so I'm going to say the jury is still out. I did manage to attract two followers that first week. A indie music producer in Canada (shout out to B-Ry) and a German winemaker. That's right, kiddies, a German winemaker?!? I don't know how. I don't know why. Perhaps my unique sense of humor tickles the Teutonic funny bone. I don't know, but I'm grateful to have them, (now if I can talk them into sending me a sampler we'll be in business!!!)
So, now my next task is to get this blog on track. Which would be just fan-freakin-tastic if I had any crazy inkling on what to do with it.
Posting poetry isn't getting it. Talking about my journey as a writer isn't getting it (but, hell, I'm going to post this anyway) I tried to get some friends (musicians and poets) to share this space and post whatever they were doing. Nobody bit. I then tried to get a photographer friend to send me stuff to help give her a forum. (Not that it's much of a forum). But she wasn't digging it, either.
Now what?
I know no one wants to listen to me complain, (like now). But I am at a genuine loss. I thought about reviewing my daily grind, but that's part of what bores the hell out of me about Facebook. I mean really, I could give a shit less about what you're fixing for dinner. I'm certainly glad that you're able to afford to eat but I don't need the details.
That said, no, I can't pinpoint the exact moment when I got to be a grouchy old bastard, though, I think it was more of a gradual evolution than a paradigm shift.
But along this route I think I may have actually found my niche....bitching! I mean, hell, Andy Rooney ended his long and storied career closing out the 60 minutes broadcast with one of his rants. If I didn't watch any of the rest of the broadcast I tried to tune in and see what he was on about.....So.....
Maybe that can be the gig for this blog. My rants and raves for the week!! The more I think about it the more I like it. Even if no one reads the damn thing, I'll feel better. I think my wife and kids might like the fact that I have a place to vent without having to bend their ear.
This just might be a win-win.
It won't distract or take away from my novels or poetry and can double as a great writing exercise as I try to put a well written spin on whatever is stuck in my craw.
I really think this might have some legs, folks. It's worth a shot!
Stay tuned..........................................
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