Outside of the second half of February, the October's tail end is always one my eyes glom onto. Like a twerking butt or squating thighs, the back side of October is strong, robust, ever-changing, and down right freaky at times. With the weather changing temperature, trees adopting new color, and many faces gaining spooky make-up, October is a month I think all of us cherish, but never spend much time talking about.
For sports fans, theee best baseball of the year takes place. Granted this playoff season was not particularly fun for us Giants fans - especially having to watch that suckbag Brian Wilson almost make it back to another World Series in Dodger blue - and we may not have been as intrigued, it is still a great time for the sport, nonetheless.
For music fans, there are concerts and festivals galore. Fall and Winter tours are just getting kicked off, we just recently celebrated the Treasure Island Music Festival, and of course, my favorite, The 27th Anual Bridge School Benefit is coming up this weekend at Shoreline Ampetheatre. No, I do not have a free ticket for you. Tons of albums have been released. Pusha T stole the show with My Name is My Name. I guess that band The Head and The Heart came back strong with that sophomore album that I haven't listened to and can't remember the name of.
For anarchists and government saps, you were able to commiserate together for almost 20 straight days while our government acted like 5 year old boys who thought the other 5 year old girls had some sort of vile disease. In all honesty, because we ended up diverting from a world wide economic colapse through pushing back the debt ceiling deadline, I think the only thing the government shutdown substantially effected was Donte Whitner ability to drop the 'W' from his last name. Idiots.
Last but not least, however, we still have the actual celebration of Halloween to look forward to. Because I am still a 7 year old child at heart, I still rock a costume and sometimes more than one. A few years ago I was a middle finger and the next night I was a rock star, two years ago I was a Giants baseball player, and last year I was a priest from Hell. Yes, that last one was actually true...Sorry Grandma. What to be this year? I am not one for repeating a look, but that priest one was pretty funny. I took to twitter the other day and said "For Halloween this year I am going to paste money to my body, light it on fire, and go as 'relationships,'" but something tells me that could be expensive and dangerous. So who knows, I'm sure we'll all dress up as something we wish we secretly were, but do not have the balls to actually be.
All in all, I think October has been a fine month and I look forward to seeing what the ending brings. Until then, hopefully I find something more interesting to write about than some stupid fucking monthly look-back. Cheers.
Monday, October 21, 2013
Thursday, October 17, 2013
The BART Strike: The Teacher vs. The Student
Hello there everyone. With the recent news that BART transportation will, in fact, be shut down in strike again starting tomorrow morning I thought it would only be fair for my 35 1/2 readers to swallow the pill that is my opinion on the matter. In fact, rather than bitch about the BART workers whining about an already ample salary that comes with health benefits and retirement or comment on how they are abusing unionized labor while affecting everyday employees or how the General Management of BART waits until the very last second to either continue talks or cease them... I thought I would liken it to something of a childhood tale: The Teacher and The Student.
For those who have no fucking clue as to what the BART strike even is the The Teacher would be portrayed by BART Management (specifically General Manager Grace Crunican) and The Student would be played by the BART Union (specifically the President of Services Employees International Local Union 1021, Roxanne Sanchez). Also, The Headmaster who comes into the story would be played by Governor Jerry Brown. As I said, most of you drive cars, don't know what BART is, and have no clue who these people are, so here is a children's story. Be clear though, I don't know much, but I know enough to turn the story into a dumbed down metaphor, so that's about 1,000,000 times more than you. Anyway, on with the tall tell tale...
On one fine fall morning, The Student came upon his very busy, very dependable school yard. Kids were on swings, parents were dropping off said kids in a timely manor, and each teacher over looked the morning operations with pleased grins. However, The Student was angry. See, The Student's teacher, The Teacher, had followed The Student around school ever since the very first day of high kindergarden. Coming up the ranks together, The Teacher and The Student butted heads to the point of near confrontation, but all scholastic operations ran smoothly and all other students, teachers, and parents, while they may have sensed a bit of tension, never thought a head on collision would ever take place. The school was just too important...
Then, one day, The Teacher gave the class an assignment The Student had no toleration for. The Student raised questions, but The Teacher did not want to hear it. Back and forth they went. The Teacher would assign the work, The Student felt more breaks should be given. As I'm sure you can see, The Teacher acted just as much like a child as The fucking Student did. The class halted. Work was stalled. And this once glorious school that was so dependable became a gridlock of frustration.
"Do this," said The Teacher.
"No." said The Student.
"Take that." The Teacher would demand again.
"Fuck you. I'm not coming to class," The Student finally demanded.
Very civilized dialogue **induce vomiting**
Now, one could argue The Teacher set themselves up for this kind of backlash. After all, The Student was given much before and was trying to use the leverage that was once so beneficial, again. The Teacher all of a sudden became a red-ass and was calling The Student out for being a suckbag. Since people knew how important it was for all students to be in class in order to keep the school running smoothly, The Headmaster finally stepped in to see what he could do about solving this almighty scholastic clusterfuck.
"Here's what I'm going to do," said The Headmaster. "I am going to give each one of you shit heads 60 days, call it a cooling off period, where you, The Student, will go to class, and you, The Teacher, will teach different material. No mention of the previous assignment will be brought up in front of the class. But let me make one thing perfectly clear, at the end of that 60 days, The Student better have that paper done or The Teacher better think of a way to satisfy The Student while still receiving a 100% effort in the class."
The Headmaster did not seem to be fucking around. So, the 60 days comes and gos. The class goes on. Other kids and teachers forget. But what do The Teacher and The Student talk about. Not a goddamned thing. Nothing at all. The Teacher wanted the class to remain the same, The Student wanted change. When do they wait to talk? The 11th hour, or in this case the 60th day....
Class disruption continued. The Teacher did not want to give in, The Student did not want to give up. And so this sad, sad state of affairs continues. No moral, no endgame, no solution. The Student was a child, but so was The Teacher. You would think one could learn from the other, they could work together, but it is sadly untrue.
Prideful? Childish. Quit the shit and find a common ground. At least this blog wasn't a bigger waste of time than these BART negotiations.
For those who have no fucking clue as to what the BART strike even is the The Teacher would be portrayed by BART Management (specifically General Manager Grace Crunican) and The Student would be played by the BART Union (specifically the President of Services Employees International Local Union 1021, Roxanne Sanchez). Also, The Headmaster who comes into the story would be played by Governor Jerry Brown. As I said, most of you drive cars, don't know what BART is, and have no clue who these people are, so here is a children's story. Be clear though, I don't know much, but I know enough to turn the story into a dumbed down metaphor, so that's about 1,000,000 times more than you. Anyway, on with the tall tell tale...
On one fine fall morning, The Student came upon his very busy, very dependable school yard. Kids were on swings, parents were dropping off said kids in a timely manor, and each teacher over looked the morning operations with pleased grins. However, The Student was angry. See, The Student's teacher, The Teacher, had followed The Student around school ever since the very first day of high kindergarden. Coming up the ranks together, The Teacher and The Student butted heads to the point of near confrontation, but all scholastic operations ran smoothly and all other students, teachers, and parents, while they may have sensed a bit of tension, never thought a head on collision would ever take place. The school was just too important...
Then, one day, The Teacher gave the class an assignment The Student had no toleration for. The Student raised questions, but The Teacher did not want to hear it. Back and forth they went. The Teacher would assign the work, The Student felt more breaks should be given. As I'm sure you can see, The Teacher acted just as much like a child as The fucking Student did. The class halted. Work was stalled. And this once glorious school that was so dependable became a gridlock of frustration.
"Do this," said The Teacher.
"No." said The Student.
"Take that." The Teacher would demand again.
"Fuck you. I'm not coming to class," The Student finally demanded.
Very civilized dialogue **induce vomiting**
Now, one could argue The Teacher set themselves up for this kind of backlash. After all, The Student was given much before and was trying to use the leverage that was once so beneficial, again. The Teacher all of a sudden became a red-ass and was calling The Student out for being a suckbag. Since people knew how important it was for all students to be in class in order to keep the school running smoothly, The Headmaster finally stepped in to see what he could do about solving this almighty scholastic clusterfuck.
"Here's what I'm going to do," said The Headmaster. "I am going to give each one of you shit heads 60 days, call it a cooling off period, where you, The Student, will go to class, and you, The Teacher, will teach different material. No mention of the previous assignment will be brought up in front of the class. But let me make one thing perfectly clear, at the end of that 60 days, The Student better have that paper done or The Teacher better think of a way to satisfy The Student while still receiving a 100% effort in the class."
The Headmaster did not seem to be fucking around. So, the 60 days comes and gos. The class goes on. Other kids and teachers forget. But what do The Teacher and The Student talk about. Not a goddamned thing. Nothing at all. The Teacher wanted the class to remain the same, The Student wanted change. When do they wait to talk? The 11th hour, or in this case the 60th day....
Class disruption continued. The Teacher did not want to give in, The Student did not want to give up. And so this sad, sad state of affairs continues. No moral, no endgame, no solution. The Student was a child, but so was The Teacher. You would think one could learn from the other, they could work together, but it is sadly untrue.
Prideful? Childish. Quit the shit and find a common ground. At least this blog wasn't a bigger waste of time than these BART negotiations.
Monday, October 14, 2013
A Holiday For Columbus? I'd Rather Work On A Monday
I have hated this day for quite awhile. I can actually think back to one of the first times I gave original thought to the disapproval of Columbus Day. The year was 2008 and I was writing for my high school newspaper. Our class teacher and paper moderator, Ted Morton (no relation unfortunately), posed the question to each of our editors: "What is your favorite part of Columbus Day?"
As is custom, when this "holiday" comes around, schools get the day off. Serra was no different and most of the editors staffed to the paper at the time referenced this scholastic absence as their most enjoyable part. Very similar to now, I had a moderately large mouth in high school and was much more akin to taking the side of the opposition or saying something different to get a rise out of people. All in all, I can't remember exactly what I said, but it was something along the lines of, "I actually don't like Columbus...The guy stumbles upon a habited land and calls it his own? Get less original."
I know, I know. Not exactly the opposing statement that raises pitch forks and torches, but most people skip out on stirring the proverbial pot and say they enjoy Columbus Day and I enjoyed taking the extra 30 seconds and speaking up for something else, whether or not I truly had a horse in the race. However, as time went on and more experiences were mentally encapsulated, I started to realize there was actually some weight to my statement.
This weight was evidenced by way of a few very important instances and (dare I say) a slight bit of maturation. Let's be honest and talk about the Christopher Columbus that teachers, family members, and friends don't want to talk about or, even worse, don't know anything about.
Yes, Columbus did travel to The Americas in 1492 and it is true that he went to spread the good word of Christianity. The Nina, The Pinta, and the Santa Maria hung their Spanish flags high and sailed across the crushingly great seas of the world. Oh, people love telling you how silly it was that he and his other voyagers mistook The Americas for India and dubbed the natives "Indians." It's all very cute because a lot of the natives knew very little about this religion known as Christianity and I know I was taught Columbus was so good to them because he took the wonderful time out of his day to teach them English. According to Social Studies classes and ignorant pride, Christopher Columbus was a great dude. We should have a holiday in his name. We should be so very happy he accidentally graced our lands some 500 years ago.
In all actuality, Columbus would be what modern day activists and politicians would refer to as a "tyrant." In four voyages to the "West Indies," Columbus was accused of forced labor, slavery, food deprivation, and, in one account,
As is custom, when this "holiday" comes around, schools get the day off. Serra was no different and most of the editors staffed to the paper at the time referenced this scholastic absence as their most enjoyable part. Very similar to now, I had a moderately large mouth in high school and was much more akin to taking the side of the opposition or saying something different to get a rise out of people. All in all, I can't remember exactly what I said, but it was something along the lines of, "I actually don't like Columbus...The guy stumbles upon a habited land and calls it his own? Get less original."
I know, I know. Not exactly the opposing statement that raises pitch forks and torches, but most people skip out on stirring the proverbial pot and say they enjoy Columbus Day and I enjoyed taking the extra 30 seconds and speaking up for something else, whether or not I truly had a horse in the race. However, as time went on and more experiences were mentally encapsulated, I started to realize there was actually some weight to my statement.
This weight was evidenced by way of a few very important instances and (dare I say) a slight bit of maturation. Let's be honest and talk about the Christopher Columbus that teachers, family members, and friends don't want to talk about or, even worse, don't know anything about.
Yes, Columbus did travel to The Americas in 1492 and it is true that he went to spread the good word of Christianity. The Nina, The Pinta, and the Santa Maria hung their Spanish flags high and sailed across the crushingly great seas of the world. Oh, people love telling you how silly it was that he and his other voyagers mistook The Americas for India and dubbed the natives "Indians." It's all very cute because a lot of the natives knew very little about this religion known as Christianity and I know I was taught Columbus was so good to them because he took the wonderful time out of his day to teach them English. According to Social Studies classes and ignorant pride, Christopher Columbus was a great dude. We should have a holiday in his name. We should be so very happy he accidentally graced our lands some 500 years ago.
In all actuality, Columbus would be what modern day activists and politicians would refer to as a "tyrant." In four voyages to the "West Indies," Columbus was accused of forced labor, slavery, food deprivation, and, in one account,
Columbus once punished a man found guilty of stealing corn by having his ears and nose cut off and then selling him into slavery. Testimony recorded in the report claims that Columbus congratulated his brother Bartolomé on "defending the family" when the latter ordered a woman paraded naked through the streets and then had her tongue cut out for suggesting that Columbus was of lowly birth (Giles Tremlett (7 August 2006). "Lost document reveals Columbus as tyrant of the C. The Guardian (UK). Retrieved 16 May 2013.)
This is the guy we have a "holiday" for? I am not here to say the Americas never would have been found and people would not have been unjustifiably pillaged, raped, and murdered if Columbus never showed to the party. Unfortunately, Colonization proved these disgusting endeavors to be "the way of the Pilgrim" and to think these types of actions have not happened elsewhere and won't happen again would just be naive. It happened with Vikings, Romans, and damn near every modern day society. We live in a world where domination comes by way of fear and power. It is sad.
What is more sad, though, is that we have dedicated a holiday to this tyrannical suck bag. That does not need to happen. Do we have historians who look back on this 10 year beginning of Native American destruction and cry genocide? I am sure there are, but even priests along for the voyage looked back on his "Divine Right" of taking the Americas and surrounding islands:
"Endless testimonies...prove the mild and pacific temperament of the natives... But our work was to exasperate, ravage, kill, mangle and destroy; small wonder, then, if they tried to kill one of us now and then... The admiral (Columbus), it is true, was blind as those who came after him, and he was so anxious to please the King that he committed irreparable crimes against the Indians (de las Casas, Bartolome (1971). History of the Indies. New York: Harper & Row.)
So, I hope I have not given you too much. I hope I do not appear to be sitting on some high chair of reason and everyone else is below me and the others who feel the same way I do. All I hope for is you can look past the day off or funny stories and look at what history truly gives you. Think of the Native American people and how they feel on this day. Because to Native Americans, this is not just another "holiday." Christopher Columbus was a dick-head...and there is no better way to say it. He sucks.
Friday, September 27, 2013
Pre-People Watching?
How many people in your life have told you, "I love people watching. It's the best." A lot, right? I mean, I can't go days without someone voicing that silly cliche while sitting at a bar, train stop, school library, or airport. The whole idea of watching some dweeb spill coffee all over their crotch, witnessing a mother actually use one of those child leashes, walking on to a purposal, or any other random scenario that happens every day is an idea that covers the entire spectrum of human emotion. We feel humored, we feel pained, we feel sympathetic, and, more importantly and more times than not, we imagine and feel ourselves in the same exact situation. However, how do we feel when people are "people watching" us?
*Play "Twighlight Zone" music in head*
For the most part we don't even recognize it happening. Hell, there is probably some creepy middle-aged man sitting behind me right now watching what I'm doing. For those scoring at home: I'm drinking a Coors Light (soft), writing this rambling post, and ocassionally checking the TV at this airport bar. Pretty normal, right? Right. If I were to see someone looking at me right now I would most likely give them the What the fuck are you looking at look and continue with my evening. The creepy middle-aged guy would be "Pre-People Watching."
BUT, say my Coors Light slips from my hand, crashes onto the floor, and (for the hell of it) I start crying it automatically becomes one of the greatest "People Watching" sightings of all time. This weird older guy is going to tell his wife, who is going to have him re-tell it at dinner - inadvertantly telling the whole story for him - and I become an asshole without even knowing. Trust me, whether we're the story teller, having the story told to us, or the subject of the story, we've all been here. When the perfect moment of emotion happens, "People Watching" is one of the coolest activities you can pick up when killing time at, oh I don't know, San Jose Airport.
So, what's my point? Don't be the creepy middle-aged guy who has no story to tell his wife. In fact, don't be the creepy old guy who probably doesn't have a wife. Alright, I'm off point... What I mean is, don't sit and stare at various people in a public setting waiting, hoping, praying for some story to unfold. Yeah, you might catch a goofy outfit or two, but no one wants you sitting at a train stop looking people up and down. You don't want that for you. A few glances here and there are fantastic. When something hilarious like me spilling my Coors Light everywhere happens, a glance will do just fine.
Any way, have a wonderful weekend and, as always, play at least one Prince song.
*Play "Twighlight Zone" music in head*
For the most part we don't even recognize it happening. Hell, there is probably some creepy middle-aged man sitting behind me right now watching what I'm doing. For those scoring at home: I'm drinking a Coors Light (soft), writing this rambling post, and ocassionally checking the TV at this airport bar. Pretty normal, right? Right. If I were to see someone looking at me right now I would most likely give them the What the fuck are you looking at look and continue with my evening. The creepy middle-aged guy would be "Pre-People Watching."
BUT, say my Coors Light slips from my hand, crashes onto the floor, and (for the hell of it) I start crying it automatically becomes one of the greatest "People Watching" sightings of all time. This weird older guy is going to tell his wife, who is going to have him re-tell it at dinner - inadvertantly telling the whole story for him - and I become an asshole without even knowing. Trust me, whether we're the story teller, having the story told to us, or the subject of the story, we've all been here. When the perfect moment of emotion happens, "People Watching" is one of the coolest activities you can pick up when killing time at, oh I don't know, San Jose Airport.
So, what's my point? Don't be the creepy middle-aged guy who has no story to tell his wife. In fact, don't be the creepy old guy who probably doesn't have a wife. Alright, I'm off point... What I mean is, don't sit and stare at various people in a public setting waiting, hoping, praying for some story to unfold. Yeah, you might catch a goofy outfit or two, but no one wants you sitting at a train stop looking people up and down. You don't want that for you. A few glances here and there are fantastic. When something hilarious like me spilling my Coors Light everywhere happens, a glance will do just fine.
Any way, have a wonderful weekend and, as always, play at least one Prince song.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Ramblin' 'bout Writin'
Hello there. I am certain this is about the third time I have gotten back into blogging and I am even more certain that the few who gave a damn have long since wondered where my words escaped to. Don't worry, Mom, I still have some creative writing inside this salesman head of mine. I single out my Mother not in the intention of actually singling her out, but because she is probably the one available to single out. Which, in retrospect, kind of defeats the purpose of even using the term, "single out."
Anyway, even though I do not have anything too terribly insightful to drop on you, it has been awhile since I have publicly posted any writings. That's just a fact. By the way, I say "publicly" because I actually write every single day. These writings range from short stories, mostly unfinished, monologues/asides, kind of half and half on the finished/unfinished spectrum, and, as some people know, poetry. Each individual poem is always finished, but they are never truly done. That last sentence was lame, I know.
I guess the poems themselves are much like song lyrics. I have never followed the poem structure of the likes of Frost, Poe, or Bill Shakes. Rather, I usually have some melody in my head and either start with some sort of chorus or verse and role with it. So really these binders and typed up pieces of paper I have are just lyrics with no music. Damn, guess I should have focused more on those piano lessons you used to have me take, Mom.
The toughest part about writing these rhymed sentences is attempting to share them with other people. Some read them, others have read ones written about them, and most, like I said, don't even care. It's funny though, because as I get older I am starting to care less what people's reaction would be to them and care more that they have any reaction at all. I want to start sharing it with people. Funny, how easy it is for me to crack a joke or make a prepared speech about a topic, but how it takes me an entire blog post to let you know I may or may not post current memoirs. Maybe it is a bit attention-whorish of me, but at least I am being honest. I write op-eds, attempted to host a pirate radio show (that is not dead yet...I think), and tweet mostly shitty stuff about my daily observations...but there's not much serious material I put out there.
Please do not get me wrong, I am not saying I am some poetic master penning the world's existence to paper. Some of it's about girls, some of it's about a long day, some of it's about a dog (that's actually true). However, there are important aspects of my life I have been able to remember - for better or worse - because I wrote it down. The passing of friends and love ones, failing miserably and searching for clarity in social and scholastic endeavors, ending friendships, starting new friendships, truly falling in love with someone, trust felt, personal (and social) reflection, and advice. What is so great about it is I do not feel like a member of the "Woah Is Me Club" while I write, either.
This is not a justification to anyone. It's basically a journal. Many of my close friends and family members know how seriously I take and use my writing. Getting out a lot of serious emotion allows me to not take other things in life so seriously...such as myself and all the petty shit we, as people, go through. But to the people who have just read posts about kiosk workers and fantasy football roster-bation, or the ones who enjoyed the "Drunk of the Week" on Tito and Barry Live, or for the people who think my twitter is ridiculous and should be deleted, know I do write about important stuff. Well, stuff that is important to me.
This is a really fun thing to do in every aspect. Maybe I'll expand each "personal journal entry" or "current memoir" into a well though out blog post...going forward of course. Hey, there's an idea. I hope I can think of some interesting topics between now and tomorrow night so I can stop talking about my own hobbies that you don't read.
Faucet, anyone?
Anyway, even though I do not have anything too terribly insightful to drop on you, it has been awhile since I have publicly posted any writings. That's just a fact. By the way, I say "publicly" because I actually write every single day. These writings range from short stories, mostly unfinished, monologues/asides, kind of half and half on the finished/unfinished spectrum, and, as some people know, poetry. Each individual poem is always finished, but they are never truly done. That last sentence was lame, I know.
I guess the poems themselves are much like song lyrics. I have never followed the poem structure of the likes of Frost, Poe, or Bill Shakes. Rather, I usually have some melody in my head and either start with some sort of chorus or verse and role with it. So really these binders and typed up pieces of paper I have are just lyrics with no music. Damn, guess I should have focused more on those piano lessons you used to have me take, Mom.
The toughest part about writing these rhymed sentences is attempting to share them with other people. Some read them, others have read ones written about them, and most, like I said, don't even care. It's funny though, because as I get older I am starting to care less what people's reaction would be to them and care more that they have any reaction at all. I want to start sharing it with people. Funny, how easy it is for me to crack a joke or make a prepared speech about a topic, but how it takes me an entire blog post to let you know I may or may not post current memoirs. Maybe it is a bit attention-whorish of me, but at least I am being honest. I write op-eds, attempted to host a pirate radio show (that is not dead yet...I think), and tweet mostly shitty stuff about my daily observations...but there's not much serious material I put out there.
Please do not get me wrong, I am not saying I am some poetic master penning the world's existence to paper. Some of it's about girls, some of it's about a long day, some of it's about a dog (that's actually true). However, there are important aspects of my life I have been able to remember - for better or worse - because I wrote it down. The passing of friends and love ones, failing miserably and searching for clarity in social and scholastic endeavors, ending friendships, starting new friendships, truly falling in love with someone, trust felt, personal (and social) reflection, and advice. What is so great about it is I do not feel like a member of the "Woah Is Me Club" while I write, either.
This is not a justification to anyone. It's basically a journal. Many of my close friends and family members know how seriously I take and use my writing. Getting out a lot of serious emotion allows me to not take other things in life so seriously...such as myself and all the petty shit we, as people, go through. But to the people who have just read posts about kiosk workers and fantasy football roster-bation, or the ones who enjoyed the "Drunk of the Week" on Tito and Barry Live, or for the people who think my twitter is ridiculous and should be deleted, know I do write about important stuff. Well, stuff that is important to me.
This is a really fun thing to do in every aspect. Maybe I'll expand each "personal journal entry" or "current memoir" into a well though out blog post...going forward of course. Hey, there's an idea. I hope I can think of some interesting topics between now and tomorrow night so I can stop talking about my own hobbies that you don't read.
Faucet, anyone?
Monday, July 8, 2013
Thursday, January 17, 2013
So Long, Facebook
There was a time in my life when I actually did not have a Facebook. Well, not counting the first eighteen years of my life, that is. Those were the days, at least the later years, of MySpace. Now that was the shit - top 8 walls, a personal song on your page, a cool bio... but I digress. I am talking about sometime between 2009-2010. I actually went onto Facebook, deactivated my account, and went a whole year without logging back in. Don't worry, this post is not some personal pat on the back or a look back on a former New Year's resolution. I am just here to tell you that I will be doing that again, starting today.
Why?
I believe there to be a couple of reasons. For one, we all know it is a complete and total waste of time. I can go a good couple of hours in the office working away, but then I am usually back on Facebook for the next 15 minutes; doing mindless shit. Commenting on statuses, posting a "cool" music video, or going through Rico Barnes' profile pictures. Besides that last one, I won't miss much of the mindless time-consumption. I will admit, collecting meaningful and memory-filled images will take some time, so I guess I'll officially delete it when I am done with that. Any pictures taken after today though, I get to start using the "I don't have Facebook, e-mail them to me at fill in the blank e-mail address" saying I came to love that entire year I did not have the Book.
Another reason I cannot have Facebook any longer are precisely because of the status updates. I am no martyr here, but the next status I see about some political debate or socially conscious topic from someone who can barely finish a New York Times article is going to make me nauseous. Get over yourself, you're not that smart. Read a couple of books before you update your status with witty prose and release it to your 834 friends. I will never judge or blame anyone for having a political opinion, but let us work on becoming the most informed citizen we can before proving to the internet we know what we are talking about.
And what is with the concept of a Facebook friend anyway? What, I didn't accept your friend request within the first 10 minutes of your invitation and now we're not friends on the street corner? I honestly have experienced people who stopped me while I was out and asked if I had checked Facebook recently. Is this where we have gone as interactors and interactees, as it were? Cool story, bro. Or gal. Anyway, you get it.
At the end of the day, I can complain all I want about my personal beef with the Book, but for the most part we can all agree to how stupid it is. However, can you believe that people actually end friendships over that thing? C'mon man. Kids are up until 4 a.m. in the morning blasting chat messages to someone about how much of an asshole they are. Really? And I mean really, chat wars are one aspect, but actual comment debates for the entire public to read... ugh. Like I said, I am not the martyr, we have all been there, I just do not want to do it anymore.
Also, think about all of the other ways we can stay in contact and communicate with each other. Social Media websites such as Twitter, LinkedIn, Yammer, and even Four Square are all ways for the general masses to stay in touch and keep themselves relevant. Okay, okay, Twitter is pretty much overrun with bullshit nonsense, as well, but I have found at least LinkedIn and Yammer to be useful, productive ways of online social interaction.
I like to consider myself as at least a partially enlightened individual, maybe I am giving myself too much credit there. I am not sure. The point is that I honestly think there are about ten other activities I could partake in (non-alcohol related) that would better ways to spend my time. Reading more, visiting old record shops often, frequenting my front yard; these are all perfectly suitable substitutions for liking a photo of a handle pull that was uploaded at 3:30 in the morning. Who knows, maybe this lack of Facebook will allow me to write more.
I know what you most of you are thinking (well, at least the ones who know me personally), "here goes Morton again with another almighty decision. Let's see how long this one lasts." I get that. Hell, I probably deserve it. However, I can assure I made it a year the first time I tried ran this race a few years back and I feel confident enough in myself to partake again. For those trying to read into this, stop. This is not some personal vendetta I am avenging or some hipster reaction to apathy. At it's core, this is just what I want to do and I felt compelled to write it out for you.
So... Is there anybody coming with me? Did anyone of the 14 people who actually read this feel empowered to say, "down to Facebook! No longer shall we sit and watch a two and a half hour film about the downward spiral of interpersonal communication!" No? Nobody? I didn't think so. Well, this is the only idea of mine that has come close to a New Year's resolution. So here goes nothin'....
Why?
I believe there to be a couple of reasons. For one, we all know it is a complete and total waste of time. I can go a good couple of hours in the office working away, but then I am usually back on Facebook for the next 15 minutes; doing mindless shit. Commenting on statuses, posting a "cool" music video, or going through Rico Barnes' profile pictures. Besides that last one, I won't miss much of the mindless time-consumption. I will admit, collecting meaningful and memory-filled images will take some time, so I guess I'll officially delete it when I am done with that. Any pictures taken after today though, I get to start using the "I don't have Facebook, e-mail them to me at fill in the blank e-mail address" saying I came to love that entire year I did not have the Book.
Another reason I cannot have Facebook any longer are precisely because of the status updates. I am no martyr here, but the next status I see about some political debate or socially conscious topic from someone who can barely finish a New York Times article is going to make me nauseous. Get over yourself, you're not that smart. Read a couple of books before you update your status with witty prose and release it to your 834 friends. I will never judge or blame anyone for having a political opinion, but let us work on becoming the most informed citizen we can before proving to the internet we know what we are talking about.
And what is with the concept of a Facebook friend anyway? What, I didn't accept your friend request within the first 10 minutes of your invitation and now we're not friends on the street corner? I honestly have experienced people who stopped me while I was out and asked if I had checked Facebook recently. Is this where we have gone as interactors and interactees, as it were? Cool story, bro. Or gal. Anyway, you get it.
At the end of the day, I can complain all I want about my personal beef with the Book, but for the most part we can all agree to how stupid it is. However, can you believe that people actually end friendships over that thing? C'mon man. Kids are up until 4 a.m. in the morning blasting chat messages to someone about how much of an asshole they are. Really? And I mean really, chat wars are one aspect, but actual comment debates for the entire public to read... ugh. Like I said, I am not the martyr, we have all been there, I just do not want to do it anymore.
Also, think about all of the other ways we can stay in contact and communicate with each other. Social Media websites such as Twitter, LinkedIn, Yammer, and even Four Square are all ways for the general masses to stay in touch and keep themselves relevant. Okay, okay, Twitter is pretty much overrun with bullshit nonsense, as well, but I have found at least LinkedIn and Yammer to be useful, productive ways of online social interaction.
I like to consider myself as at least a partially enlightened individual, maybe I am giving myself too much credit there. I am not sure. The point is that I honestly think there are about ten other activities I could partake in (non-alcohol related) that would better ways to spend my time. Reading more, visiting old record shops often, frequenting my front yard; these are all perfectly suitable substitutions for liking a photo of a handle pull that was uploaded at 3:30 in the morning. Who knows, maybe this lack of Facebook will allow me to write more.
I know what you most of you are thinking (well, at least the ones who know me personally), "here goes Morton again with another almighty decision. Let's see how long this one lasts." I get that. Hell, I probably deserve it. However, I can assure I made it a year the first time I tried ran this race a few years back and I feel confident enough in myself to partake again. For those trying to read into this, stop. This is not some personal vendetta I am avenging or some hipster reaction to apathy. At it's core, this is just what I want to do and I felt compelled to write it out for you.
So... Is there anybody coming with me? Did anyone of the 14 people who actually read this feel empowered to say, "down to Facebook! No longer shall we sit and watch a two and a half hour film about the downward spiral of interpersonal communication!" No? Nobody? I didn't think so. Well, this is the only idea of mine that has come close to a New Year's resolution. So here goes nothin'....
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