Showing posts with label buncha whining. Show all posts
Showing posts with label buncha whining. Show all posts

Fruits of My Labor  

Posted by Captain of the Poop Deck in

So I just decided against working for Apple, which to some, including part of myself, may seem like a pretty dumb move. Getting paid extravagantly for work that so perfectly matches my aptitudes kind of makes me feel like I've totally and completely actualized in a capitalist framework. I'm pretty sure, though, that it wouldn't make me happy. It's strange to think, then, that using my aptitudes to the fullest extent that society values them doesn't necessarily make me happy. I shouldn't complain that I'm good at math, even though I pretty much hate it, except that I feel that by not using the skill to make a shitload of cash, I'm shortchanging myself somehow. What if I'm a better quality assurance engineer than I'll ever be a storyteller? Should I settle for what I'm recognized for being inherently good at, or should I open myself up to criticism and embarrassment by pursuing a fairly personal field about which I have limited proficiency, like filmmaking?

The Best  

Posted by Captain of the Poop Deck in

Mornings are the best, because you can pretend you're going to do something amazing later.


This kid in the middle looks like he's about to be ripped apart.

My life is baseball  

Posted by Captain of the Poop Deck in

But not in the sense you might think, since I haven't been to or watched a game in years. My life is, or has been, waiting, relaxing, concentrating, focusing and waiting for the perfect moment to make the perfect play. The catch is, in baseball you don't have as much control as you like to think. You know what you're "supposed" to do when you get the ball, but sometimes it takes a bad bounce, sometimes your teammates throw wild, and sometimes you just didn't practice enough and you let everyone down. That last one tends to happen a lot. But it's not for lack of trying, or dedication, or motivation. It's focusing in the wrong things, making the wrong changes, the wrong improvements. I focus on fielding a better grounder instead of waving to the girl in the bleachers watching me, and I hope she's still there when I look up.



Baseball, I'd forgotten how great you were, and how amazing Ozzie Smith is.


End of the World  

Posted by Captain of the Poop Deck in

So Stephanie all but convinced me last night that I will live to see the apocalypse. It's not like it was never in the back of my mind. In fact, upon getting my first job, I asked someone if it was more beneficial for me to learn programming or small game hunting. It's just so fucking depressing, and it makes me really angry. I also realized that, despite my general, vague, and increasingly abstract belief in social justice, environmental sustainability, etc, I really do like the "American way of life." I want the world at my fingertips, and it's scary to think of that disappearing. I know this sounds like the unimportant, self-indulgent whining of a rich, privileged person (which it is), so you don't really have to care. I understand that desperately hanging on to luxury devalues real suffering, and in this case leads to the destruction of humanity, but...I like all the things that come with mass consumption of fossil fuels, and I can't help it. I guess, like a million times before, I can come to a conclusion about myself or the world and ignore it, or I can take issue with it and work toward solving the problem. Yes! ok. Did I just tell myself to save the world?

Postmodernism  

Posted by Captain of the Poop Deck in

It really is hard to escape it. Where once it may have filled a void in a culture that was too afraid or too repressed to look at itself critically, it has now transcended utility and become an end in of itself.


The postmodern lifestyle is what evolves when the counterculture becomes the mainstream, and when a teenage elitism extends into adult years. The chronic postmodernist lives "beyond," "outside," or "above" his culture. This exhibits itself in perpetual irony (fig. A, left) and dismissive criticism (fig. B, below). This is inherently unoriginal. Or maybe not unoriginal, but one begins to live his life reactively. Thoughts and creations are exclusively in response to something, and the act of creating a truly original product has no room in this framework. It's important to note that while such a person usually intends to divorce himself from his culture, he, in truth, relies on it completely, for without other people's creations against which he plays the enlightened omnipotent, his utterances and presentations 
would reveal themselves as empty and meaningless. While such reactions, especially jokes and subculture fashion, are generally well-received, they have little independent value. Now by this definition, the same could be said for any socially-influenced act or creation (i.e., that it has no independent value because it's not "truly" single-origin), but of course most, if not all, of humanity's products have both social roots and value, so where's the harm in maintaining this kind of ironic distance? Like any aberrant behavior classified as "disease," this is harmful in excess: when it moves from a conscious cultural critique to a total confusion of one's identity. If we assume that identity is comprised of what one thinks and does, and one "thinks and does" purely in relation to a societal aggregate, then one's own identity becomes hopelessly embedded in that of other people. This person has disappeared. And without identity, what separates one person from another? What makes him special? Or desirable? Or unlikeable? 

Those who lead postmodern lifestyles can never be truly real. They play off of others, and add nothing of themselves. They may offer a "real" analysis, in that they've filtered information themselves rather than regurgitate someone else's take on a situation, life, et al., but they subordinate their social decisions to their desire for pure opposition and communion, and they never simply "are."

Who knows what the root of this is? Is it a desire to be liked? A fear of oneself being socially unacceptable? An all-encompassing need to carve a personal niche in a larger society?

The internet may offer a clue to that last hypothesis. There are so many more connections than there are nodes, that sometimes it's hard to believe there's anything original at all out there. Seen as a model for more conventional interaction, whereby communication is made up of both relaying other people's information and adding or generating one's own synthesis, the internet is full of reactionary fervor. Many blogs and forums are nothing more than simple rehashes of someone else's product, and news aggregators are just soulless, programmatic distributors, adding nothing of their own to the sea of online information. I believe this trend online comes from a desperate need to be noticed. There's no other social space where so many people are instantly accessible. It's as if everyone in the world is in the same room, and all our eyes are closed. We have no choice but to make as much noise as possible just to be acknowledged, and piggybacking on proven attention-getters is one way of doing that. I realize that this phenomenon on the internet is a bit different from real-life "hyper-postmodernism" in that the elitism or cynicism isn't really present. It simply illustrates the tendency to be reactive and derivative as a way to establish oneself, as with subculture fashion.

This may be reaching. This may be me attributing my own distinct self-analysis to the general population and as such is likely an oversimplification. But there are fake, ironic people out there that need to snap out of it and start creating something. If you think you might be one of them you need to start contributing to your culture instead of bitching about how much you despise it. Have opinions instead of counter-opinions, and don't be afraid to put your real self on the line.

Let me know if this makes sense. It may not.

Dear Diary  

Posted by Captain of the Poop Deck in

So I'm trying this new thing where I don't care what anyone thinks of me. It's really hard, and I'm only doing an ok job, because I still care about what I think of me. I also hate consciously making what seem like immoral decisions. It's so selfish. Like, why do I work as a technical cog in the video industry, when I could be doing something to help people instead? I give myself reasons, but they're not always good enough. And honestly, my mood changes so much throughout the day, that sometimes I'm happy with what I'm doing, and an hour later I can't bear it. C'est la vie?

And just because: