Category Archives: What Makes Life Worth Living

Something New

I like ben’s last post.

The idea of striving for something that is really nothing is something that’s always struck me about life in general. Water flowing to a pool by any means necessary, the easier the better.

The irony of escaping systems always cracks me up as well, it’s like trying to escape life without dying. What’s the first thing you do after breaking out of a system? Set up a new one. Bonuses being that you at least get to be in charge, and it tends to be less violent these days. There’s some serious issues of control buried in there, though.

Just some response thoughts, i’m not here to get terribly deep today, but we’ll see. I got no plan, just a two week gap in posts and some downtime.

The two weeks is strange to me. I have done alot in my life since my last post, but would be perfectly content to not list any of it here, when really it’s what i should be doing. I’ve been having some rocking times over the past few weekends, and in the long run, this blog is for me. If i end up living to be 80, i want to be able to read about things i did back in the day when i was young and actually had to go places to interact with people. I’d rather just list them bullet style, since hopefully my memory will be good enough to fill in the gaps.

-Making an awesome, nothing went wrong batch of beer out at my parents house.

-Going with a co-worker and my wife to the showbox for the sasquatch line-up announcement party and jetting after mad rad and das rascist, only to find out macklemore got some stage time later in the evening.

-Running around with the filthy beer gang and going to see Mark Farina kill it live at neumos, where i danced until my entire shirt was a much darker shade of green.

-Hanging out with new law peeps around beltown where i found some jolly roger on tap, then managed to get dick’s later in the night after having the window shut on us after seeing farina.

-Having an awesome valentine’s day with my wife where we urban hiked, napped, and saw Rock of Ages.

-Getting into the groove of the bi-monthly event of taking my grandpa to the snoqualmie casino, then wrapping up the day playing hours of video games and drinking homebrews with the filthy crew.

Putting it all in list form like that is such a great reminder. I have so much awesome stuff going on in my life, all the time. Just like i need to remind myself of how superfluous and insignificant i can be at times, i can also remind myself of other things less existential. swing that camera around to point at whatever i want.

ebb and flow, baby…so it goes.

Art

Again, i apologize for the last post, sort of. sometimes documentation is more important than content. on that note, let’s get started!

so here’s the counter-point, ideas running fresh and anew, somewhat un-ironically. apparently, i need outside influence to get out of idea-ruts. this version came in the form of  a documentary (mockumentary?) of epic proportions called Exit through the Gift Shop, done by infamous anonymous street artist Banksy. This film does an amazing job of blurring the line between fiction and reality these days, reminding you how much you have to hone your ability to question reality and what is presented to you. or just reality and what aspects of it you choose to believe. that’s the highfalutin vision of it, but you could just as easily look at it as the highbuffoonery it is.

in this regard, it really shows art for what it is, reflection of society be dammed. you watch shit like this and see just how important, and unimportant it is. how much you, as the viewer adds to the final piece. the creation of something this deliberate and high-concept is nothing short of amazing. yet the fact that i consider it as “high-concept” is already talking out my ass and out of my depth.

here’s the thing. for a moment in my life, Banksy made me care about an idea. as brief and limited as that moment was, it happened. it hit me hard enough to try and respond, to react. damn you, artists. is this your purpose?

Ween

A couple of months ago, i had a friend buy tickets to a show that we had missed out on 3 years previous. I had never heard of them , but they are his favorite band, and I was intrigued. The band was called Ween, and apparently they’ve been doing goofy rock for decades now.

I listened to some of the music nonchalantly, and saw the silly genius behind their music, but still never really got into them. There’s a ton of music out there, and not all of it goes into heavy rotation.

We went and saw them last night at the Paramount, and I was summarily blown away by the performance. There are some acts that can only be captured in a live venue. It was nothing about their stage precense though, nothing about the visuals or the huge amounts of smoke from smoke machines or anything that did it for me. It was their musicianship, their ability to play tightly together, despite slugging beers and hitting “jazz cigarettes” onstage the entire show. They were serious chameleons of classic rock, with good song writing and solid playing.

I know I’ve always felt a deep affinity for music, but much like everything in my life, i hold it at a distance, and never take it too seriously. That was the vibe i got from the crowd and the performers last night. It’s just music, but let’s do it really well. Let’s have fun. That’s a philosophy i can always get behind.

The fact that this was probably the first show my friend has ever plunked down any amount of money for gave me some perspective too. You gotta figure there’s something special about a band if someone who isn’t that into music (or live shows, anyways) pays to go to a show where the floor sells out overnight. There’s so much music culture I’m not a part of because I can’t pay attention to it all. But if i pay attention to people who appreciate music (or art of any kind, actually) i’ll end up somewhere i didn’t plan. my life needs more of that.

Of Love and Bicycles

For once, I come here with a point to make, an idea to flesh out.  I’ve never really sorted out my feelings as a bicyclist in the city of seattle, even though i’m pretty avid about my biking. There was a show about it on KUOW today, and both sides of the issue were being argued by idiots on either extreme, so i felt it was time to iron out my thoughts on the matter.

Here’s my philosophy for bicycle riding, especially in an urban setting: I am invisible. Too many times have I made eye contact with people in cars to establish some form of right-of-way only to almost be hit. I’ve avoided being doored so many times because you have to watch parked cars like hawks while riding along side of them. I can’t expect these people to see me, even in full reflective getup, covered in blinking lights.

I have to make sure I’m not the one getting myself hurt. I feel this is my responsibility because the big inequality in the relationship between bicycles and cars is the size/weight ratio. When the two collide, the most that’s going to happen to a car is some form of body damage. To the bike rider, you can total your bike along with seriously injuring yourself. There’s too much at risk as a bike rider to care about what’s right or lawful with stakes like that. if you get hit on your bike and it’s proven that the driver was at fault and you had the right-of-way, guess who’s still in traction.

So there’s a balance to be struck on how people bike around a city that wants more people to ride but has no money to put in any type bicycle infrastructure. Hell, Seattle has no money for any of it’s infrastructure, period. So yeah, i ride on the sidewalk, sometimes it’s necessary. I have no problem riding on urban streets, but only when the speed limit is 25, and there’s some way to pass me. I’ll sometimes ride the wrong way down a one way, on the sidewalk. I’ll sometimes cut through a median i wouldn’t be able to if i was in a car. This annoys alot of drivers, but i’m invisible, i’m not getting in their way, and i’m not hurting anyone. having a little license to go places you couldn’t in a car is one of the perks of riding a bike. you respect pedestrians, and watch your ass, it’s not that tough.

On both sides of the equation, there are assholes. There are drivers that will yell and throw things at you, there are bike riders who will clog a major arterial by riding three abreast during rush hour. I’ve always dealt with asshole drivers while on bikes but i never realized how bad bike riders could be until I got roped into critical mass once by some people i met at a riding event, and saw the depths of what assholes bike riders could be. It just comes with the territory of being extremely self-righteous with a feeling of superiority, i think.  that attitude is a part of both camps, though.

One thing that really bugs me about bike riders is that they complain about getting pushed around by cars when they ride on major arterials. Sometimes you have to ride on an arterial to get over a highway, hit a specific bridge, or get to a specific street.  most of the time, there’s at least a shoulder or a sidewalk to use because there are lots of vehicles and pedestrians on these routes. But more often than not, you can head one block over and be in much more bike friendly side streets. You avoid lights, heavy traffic, and the chance of hitting a pedestrian. It’s also a lot more pleasant, and allows you to find better ways to get around the city.

Seattle is a city connected by cars. The metro system is decent, but just barely. Walking is discouraged through few or extremely dilapidated sidewalks.  Without the infrastructure, there will be conflict. And just like drivers, there are idiots that ruin it for everyone else. I think that’s the bottom line. Willful or not, uninformed riders are just as bad as uniformed drivers. If you head out on a bike thinking that you always have the right of way due to your on-a-bike nature, you’re gonna get angry when you see not everyone thinks that is so, and most likely get yourself hurt in the process. You can head out in a car thinking the same way, but at least the road system around here is designed for cars.

Everyone just gets it in their heads that drivers treat riders with no respect, and vice versa. When in reality, there’s a few idiots on either extreme out there,  making it happen. My bike riding is always a pleasant experience, because i’ve ridden long enough to have common sense about what i can and probably shouldn’t try to get away with, and better routes to take.

I love riding my bike and will continue to do so. Even if we get some of the best infrastructure in the world, i’m not going to start thinking cars can see me anytime soon. I can get away with more if i’m invisible.

Welcome Back!

I go away for a week on my own, and suddenly ben has three posts up. the prodigal son returns! good to see a familiar face around here.

otherwise, i got nothing to contribute, i’ve been using slow work times to live it up. drink beer and be happy!

Surreal

So I’ve been avoiding posting for awhile, despite the heavy need to do so. There’s alot going on right now, and I just haven’t felt the need to sort it out yet. If i don’t force myself to, then I probably won’t, so here we are.

Here’s the seed that got me here: Over-hearing a conversation, with this comment being the point I jumped in:

“Why is it that these things are discovered after i’ve done all this work?”

Immediately the response that struck me was “Becuase of your narcissism and self-involvement. You notice these things because they affect you directly.”

That would have been really mean and uncalled for though. It also would have been over-simplification on my part. But the statement doesn’t ring  untrue to me, although it may be an oversimplification.Part of that idea still resides in that statement. Many things we say about ourselves contain that nugget of narcissism. How can it not? So what is this seed i wish to define? Anger, of course. Directed at myself and others due to circumstances outside of my control. you narcissistic asshole.

This is more accurately described as a rhizome cut off of a root system that is already there and is crying out for water. This week has been tough, yesterday especially. You don’t see the saddest sight of your life everyday.

Here’s something my uncle read at my grandmother’s funeral. It’s called Plan For Life, by Mother Teresa. I know i have heard this piece before, but sometimes, you’re more ready to listen.

people are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered.
forgive them anyway.

if you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.
be kind anyway.

if you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies.
succeed anyway.

if you are honest and frank, people may cheat you.
be honest and frank anyway.

what you spend years building, someone may destroy overnight.
build anyway.

if you find serenity and happiness, people may be jealous.
be happy anyway.

the good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow.
do good anyway.

give the world the best you have, and it may never be good enough.
but give the world the best you’ve got anyway.

you see, in the final analysis, it is all between you and god;
it was never between you and them anyway.

To me, most of the quote is good, but almost overly-earnest in prose, and almost redundant. But the last line is big. God or not, it was never between you and them anyways. it was never between you and them anyways. jesus, what a line. you and yourself…and love in-between. it’s all there waiting for you, if you can tolerate yourself.

then your friend has a near death experience and you are just beside yourself  with surrealism now.  You wonder what you can type as a holder of information without maybe over-stepping your bounds, but then it’s all over face book. And yet you are the person concerned with yourself  so deeply, the one you referred to after overhearing a conversation. Think of how this effects you, and then try and empathize, right? why else would you try and understand yourself so well if not to empathize with others? this narcissism runs so very, very thick.

With some reflection though, all that seems to be done is empathize, as much as you can muster. Everything seems bad, but it’s not as bad as it could be. For that, you are thankful. It could always be worse. You could be completely alone with yourself in this environment. But you don’t have to, your world is populated by those you care about. You narcissistic asshole. Navel-gaze some more, get the self-hatred out of your system, and then carry on. do something you can be proud of, be someone that you admire, live awesomely.

it sounds good when you say it like that. then the awful truth comes through. let’s do this anecdotally. it takes you three weeks to write this. a tidal wave of  ideas regarding mortality left you stunned, and you backed off, telling yourself you needed time to let it sit. but between you and yourself, you were hiding. what was it that brought you back here again?

you went to an excellent Christmas work party which overflowed with joy and touches of nostalgia. after hours of decadent eating and drinking, out of nowhere you won an ipad by the plucking of your name from a santa hat, by your beautiful wife. despite being ridiculously lucky and blessed all-around, you’re a little miffed that you have to install itunes on your computer, just to use it. this is the life you retreat to. these are the problems you deal with. this is your life, for better or worse.

so what? you can at least come here to scream about what made for such a great night tonight, just talk about it, point to it and show that it existed, give it some words.  breath some life into it, if only for you. the thing about death is it happens. the thing about life is it happens.

be awesome in the meantime, i guess.

Work it Out

It’s crazy how much work almost becomes a refuge away from your real life. The things you love end up being way more taxing and time-consuming that the ol’ 9 to 5.  I spent both my weekend days doing mostly the crappy work of brewing beer. This entails mostly bottle cleaning and putting said beer in those bottles. As i was skinning my 200th bottle or so, i thought to myself :

“this sucks, but hey, at least I’m only accountable to myself and my own standards.”

it made me smile in the moment, but i almost think it was to fool myself from the drudgery of the work i was doing. work is always gonna be work, no matter what I do to try and get around it. I think that’s what i’ve always though, and why jobs feel so superfluous to me. I can get work done, and after a bit of time of doing the same types of jobs, i can do it super-efficiently. huzzah for you dude.

you know why you work hard and get super efficient though. It’s so you’ll be done with work quicker and you can get around to all those self-enriching, non-destructive things you’d rather be doing than working. Which will bore you eventually if you don’t have a job to get super-efficient at. because being super efficient in your leisure is no way to do it.

that sounds like work.

Binge

For one reason or another, I have been coming here infrequently. Not enough drive. Now I’m coming here about everyother day, even though I don’t really have anything to say. I just feel like saying something, anything. Writing helps categorize my thoughts, even if I haven’t been thinking about much. But if i didn’t come here, i would just observe, observe, observe, and never get anything out of it, because if i don’t reflect on it, then i am just doing it to entertain myself.

which makes sense, i love entertaining myself. I try not to do it at other’s expense, but i can hardly tell the difference anymore. Superiority lingers just below it all, as ridiculous as it always is. Get superior over your self, act bigger than you are. Act less superior in attempts to bridge chasms, while thinking otherwise.

Act one way, think another. Or just not think, your brain can go where it wants, but you don’t have to pay attention. It’s more fun to pay attention to your gut feeling, as uniformed as it may be. I read Blink though, so now I can see how much is informed by all those gut decisions, snap-decisions, and the unconcious.

Also water intake. Being dehydrated is no way to leave your body, and yet i do it everyday with beer and coffee. Oh, such an idiot.

Just came back from the water fountain. I binged hard on that shit in an attempt to rehydrate. I’ll end up urinating most of it out, but it’s the thought that counts, most of it will stick around in my body to try and clean out the damage i do to it on a daily basis. Flush the toxins out!

Given the oppertunity, I will binge. Why bother half-stepping? If you’re going to do something you’ll regret later go whole hog. The funny thing is, as i get older I don’t binge, I try the moderation route ( i chalk it up to wisdom) and i find myself in pretty much the same space as if i had binged, but with less money wasted. My addictive personality loves to binge though, and i get to keep tabs on that, which isn’t so bad.

The struggle with the self, and the acceptance of how ridiculous it is is kinda the core of the conundrum of life. What else do you really have going on inside but a constant struggle to balance the person you are with the person you want to be? Binge on life. oh, snap. there ya go. It sounds born-again, but what the hell, get your binge on. Bingin’ on life.

While I’m at it, i need to design a beer called Binge Drinking Beer. The whole animosity (and rightly so, I suppose) behind binge drinking is ripe for some irony. Binge drinking needs an official beer, I can supply that…just gotta figure out a style.

Binge Stylin’.

I get real smart, and then I stupid up.

Cruise Control

Looks like everything is going just fine. Sailing along very nicely. Nothing but the horizon ahead, with a nearly unlimited view of everything around.

It’s during moments like these that the anxiety sets in. It’s a chronic condition of the life I live. What should I be doing right now that could be more productive, furthering a goal I want to see to completion. Look at everyone else around me, achieving things, why aren’t i more like them? On and on and on, it doesn’t stop. Gotta have some force to push you along though. If i were a little more zen and less into luxury, i could live in my car. Depends on how zen i want to get, i suppose.

If we’re gonna get zen here, this is probably neither the time or the place, but when is it ever? Try and come to terms with keeping my ideas about life and myself evolving, checking it out from different angles, while incorporating myself into it. It’s exhausting work, people.

Anyways, back to my luxury life. I just can’t get over the new Das Racist album, it’s joke rap done almost too well. I listen over and over and keep coming back for more. I wake up in the morning in that half sleep daze turning their verses over in my head, when i just want to sleep. I don’t get it, I feel like this shouldn’t be on such heavy rotation, and yet it is.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ndnCkUDQFUE

I love music….gimmie more!

Digital Pillow

So you are here. You are here to write something, bring it all together. You have taken in alot of information in the past few months, information you need to process, information you think you can digest without discussing, here or elsewhere.

So the typing stops, and the thinking begins. why are you here again? on first impression, it’s because it’s been a month. you enjoy writing, you enjoy reading, yet you do both so infrequently. as you type this, you are watching something kardashian related, and you are alarmed at this. you turn off the TV, even if it is through the lens of kimmel.

the idea is to show up, and the meaning will reveal itself. the words will start pouring out, because as your inner monologue gets rolling, so too will the ideas. the juicy, meaty stuff that you come for here in the first place. Because you can’t help yourself, this is your refuge. the place where ideas get filtered enough to be placed. unfiltered ideas have no place in this world, they can only be misinterpreted. this is the place where thought goes into said unfiltered ideas, and deeper meaning is pulled out via whatever it is you call a writing voice. your writing voice is so very special to you, it’s the reason you return.

somehow, you can type coherently enough to create a dialogue, coherently enough to create a voice. an amazing, eloquent, narcissistic voice you can read over and over, you beautiful bastard. at this point you dismay about what the point is of this, where the hell you can even go with this type of writing. but it doesn’t matter. you are here, you are expressing.

you come here to scream into your digital pillow.

you smile a little, because it’s OK, the digital pillow comparison is so spot-on. nicely done.

And yet, as bitter as you were when you first came here (or self-loathing) in that small period of time, things have changed. you have talked to someone cool. you have had time to think and process. you have had time to dabble in the things you love because you can’t just go on a typing jag without being interrupted, you live in the digital age.  this journal is only a psuedo-journal, because you have to filter yourself, and you can go find any idea (webpage) that flies into your mind,and continue writing at any point later, as difficult as that is.

digital pillow though, that is pure gold.