So, after finishing Feed and posting a little about it, I read an article about how Oprah's television spot could be filled, but the real question was who would fill her spiritual leader role.
The article noted some reality chick - Bethany - with whom I'm passingly familiar. It noted that she has a self-help book that counsels that "big changes come from small choices." It's a mantra that I love. To often the really big problems in our lives seem overwhelming, but could be changed by some small change, if we'd only see the chain linking the two. This is especially true before all the consequences of a choice have played out. Does this make sense? So, choice A, while seemingly insignificant, ends up being a very bad outcome B.
A simple thing like complaining about your spouse to a coworker about a "male" behavior, while it seems small, dominoes. Since the conduct is "male," its not changeable, so you don't try. You end up complaining to others instead of working on it with the spouse. This builds resentment both ways, as the complainer hates more and more conduct and the complainee feels henpecked. This results in more unchangeable conduct. Soon, a marriage lays irretrievably damaged and both hate each other.
Anyway, this got me thinking: there are probably more self-help books than one could count. Most, or at least a large number, seem to offer good, if not always helpful, advice (or is it the other way around?). Yet people will tell you we are more dysfunctional, trend addicted, media led, status conscious sheep then ever.
So, are the books not working? Are the books working but only to slight affect, and if so, is that really "working"? Are we actually getting better (whatever that means)? Are we getting better, but not at a rate that compensates for the negatives in the society and culture around us?
Maybe the books are simply wrong about their advice, though I'm disinclined to believe this. I think it probably goes deeper than that.
Maybe I'll try to come up with an answer in a future post.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Almost had me fed
I finished Feed last night.
It's premise is kind of an antithesis to my whole "today is better than yesterday, tomorrow isn't as bad as it seems" philosophy. In fact, I think author MT Anderson was kind of poking fun at me, saying essentially that I was turning a blind eye to the problems. The book features a main characters and his friends who seem to think or believe that all is well in their world, but there are hints that things outside of that small world are not all that well and are actually falling apart.
It really had me thinking.
Then I read a short interview in the back of the book. Anderson talks about how the media doesn't encourage curiosity and is misleading all of us, but especially youth. Putting aside whether the media should do things like this, I think its a fairly ridiculous statement. First, there has always been alternative media. It wasn't mainstream, but then again, that is kind of the point. Had it been mainstream then, well, it would have been mainstream. Second, the internet, which is at the heart of most of the evils in the book, has only added to the plethora of choices as far as media goes. In the past, if you lived in a less populated area you had easy access to say one newspaper, and maybe mail order to others that you would really never find out about, plus magazines. In cities you probably had access to a handful of papers. Now you have access to literally thousands of "newspapers" and other sources of news and curiousities.
Curiousity, if it is indeed lacking, isn't caused by the lack of media or the media' lack of engagement in the process. I have ideas about what might be at the root of any such problem, to the extent that it exists, but that's for a different post, I suppose.
Toward the end of the interview Anderson says that he listened to really obscure music. He says kids listen to music to self-identify into groups and doing that isolated him. This all came in response to how kids who are aware they are being manipulated by the media can handle it.
Anderson said you should try to extend your knowledge into obscure and eccentric things, rather than trying to chase the new thing. But obscure isn't for everyone, and that is probably for the best. And frankly, if everyone went exploring obscure and eccentric, it would not be obscure or eccentric for long. Plus, I think just about everyone has some obscure and eccentric thing they like.
My FB post alone shows a person who loves 1980s rap. Another is a member of a jam band, yet another "friends" small local bands and my sister is into music that is probably accurately described as either obscure or eccentric. I love science shows, especially outer space based, but earth-based as well, and stuff about ancient civilizations.
Maybe I'm not the guy Anderson is talking about. However, I love Def Leppard and radio rock, I know its not the most deep music, but I like it for my own reasons. So what that its not obscure or eccentric. I don't always, or even often, want deep music. If every aspect of life is deep, it's tiresome. You need rest.
This is what always bothers me about these arguments. I often feel that they boil down to "this is what I like and so should you." The fact that you like something outside the mainstream doesn't denigrate the mainstream in any way, but I think those outside of it often think it does. That being outside that stream somehow makes them superior.
It's premise is kind of an antithesis to my whole "today is better than yesterday, tomorrow isn't as bad as it seems" philosophy. In fact, I think author MT Anderson was kind of poking fun at me, saying essentially that I was turning a blind eye to the problems. The book features a main characters and his friends who seem to think or believe that all is well in their world, but there are hints that things outside of that small world are not all that well and are actually falling apart.
It really had me thinking.
Then I read a short interview in the back of the book. Anderson talks about how the media doesn't encourage curiosity and is misleading all of us, but especially youth. Putting aside whether the media should do things like this, I think its a fairly ridiculous statement. First, there has always been alternative media. It wasn't mainstream, but then again, that is kind of the point. Had it been mainstream then, well, it would have been mainstream. Second, the internet, which is at the heart of most of the evils in the book, has only added to the plethora of choices as far as media goes. In the past, if you lived in a less populated area you had easy access to say one newspaper, and maybe mail order to others that you would really never find out about, plus magazines. In cities you probably had access to a handful of papers. Now you have access to literally thousands of "newspapers" and other sources of news and curiousities.
Curiousity, if it is indeed lacking, isn't caused by the lack of media or the media' lack of engagement in the process. I have ideas about what might be at the root of any such problem, to the extent that it exists, but that's for a different post, I suppose.
Toward the end of the interview Anderson says that he listened to really obscure music. He says kids listen to music to self-identify into groups and doing that isolated him. This all came in response to how kids who are aware they are being manipulated by the media can handle it.
Anderson said you should try to extend your knowledge into obscure and eccentric things, rather than trying to chase the new thing. But obscure isn't for everyone, and that is probably for the best. And frankly, if everyone went exploring obscure and eccentric, it would not be obscure or eccentric for long. Plus, I think just about everyone has some obscure and eccentric thing they like.
My FB post alone shows a person who loves 1980s rap. Another is a member of a jam band, yet another "friends" small local bands and my sister is into music that is probably accurately described as either obscure or eccentric. I love science shows, especially outer space based, but earth-based as well, and stuff about ancient civilizations.
Maybe I'm not the guy Anderson is talking about. However, I love Def Leppard and radio rock, I know its not the most deep music, but I like it for my own reasons. So what that its not obscure or eccentric. I don't always, or even often, want deep music. If every aspect of life is deep, it's tiresome. You need rest.
This is what always bothers me about these arguments. I often feel that they boil down to "this is what I like and so should you." The fact that you like something outside the mainstream doesn't denigrate the mainstream in any way, but I think those outside of it often think it does. That being outside that stream somehow makes them superior.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Stories like this
Ignore that this guy is getting his novel published. For these purposes, its nice, but not required.
First off, the story itself is nicely crafted. It's the type of writing and story that carries my interest even outside of the marriage and book publishing topics. I sometimes wish this is what I was writing. Or at the very least that I was writing like this.
But the point I really want to ram home is that this guy took four years to write his novel. Four years. I've long since forgotten how long I've been at mine. My guess would be 3 years. Four years is possible.
And his original drafts were, if he is to be believed, dreck as well. Of course, admitting your work was originally dreck is easier once you have published a book and have an agreement for a second. First off, its easier to take criticism when once you've succeeded. Secondly, its much more complimentary to you if you cleaned up this original mess you made into a sellable novel. "I worked slavishly to clean up this mess" is better than "the words pretty much fell onto the page as they are here."
This is all on my mind because The Oven and I were discussing my progress on my novel last night. Or lack thereof, anyway. And so I rededicated myself to editing.
I have a new novel fleshing itself out in my head that I'd like to eventually write. But I'm determined not to start it until the work in progress is finished. Finished finished.
The honest truth is I'd like to finish this damn thing and it be good. Almost to the exclusion of its publication.
First off, the story itself is nicely crafted. It's the type of writing and story that carries my interest even outside of the marriage and book publishing topics. I sometimes wish this is what I was writing. Or at the very least that I was writing like this.
But the point I really want to ram home is that this guy took four years to write his novel. Four years. I've long since forgotten how long I've been at mine. My guess would be 3 years. Four years is possible.
And his original drafts were, if he is to be believed, dreck as well. Of course, admitting your work was originally dreck is easier once you have published a book and have an agreement for a second. First off, its easier to take criticism when once you've succeeded. Secondly, its much more complimentary to you if you cleaned up this original mess you made into a sellable novel. "I worked slavishly to clean up this mess" is better than "the words pretty much fell onto the page as they are here."
This is all on my mind because The Oven and I were discussing my progress on my novel last night. Or lack thereof, anyway. And so I rededicated myself to editing.
I have a new novel fleshing itself out in my head that I'd like to eventually write. But I'm determined not to start it until the work in progress is finished. Finished finished.
The honest truth is I'd like to finish this damn thing and it be good. Almost to the exclusion of its publication.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Douchebaggery
Money Magazine runs a "write in and have your question answered" segment. They not only get experts, but regular joes and janes from the street to answer, as well. This month's question involves an adult man who is the executor of his parents' estate. The will apparently give each child $X free and clear. The question asker is worried because his brother is, in his opinion, bad with money, and he wonders whether its OK for him to parcel out the out the money slowly, you know, so his brother won't blow it all at once. What do you think is appropriate?
The answers varied widely. The worst, however, were the people who answered that yes, the executor should only give his brother money in drips and drabs. Honestly? So, the people who "owned" the money - the parents - legally give it to their son, and instead of doing what they legally established, people think its OK to meddle in those affairs because of some impression that the brother isn't good with money? This a true test of douchebaggery, if you ask me.
Some picked the correct answer: it is the parents' money, the executor is merely there to make sure the parents' wishes are fulfilled, and the money should be conveyed as they wished. Had the parents wanted it distributed in drips and drabs they could have seen to that. Also OK as an answer: offering to help the brother manage such a windfall.
The worst part of it is that the only evidence of the monetary immaturity of the brother is the writer's impression. Who knows what he takes as being irresonsible with money. Maybe his brother buys expensive cars, or antique guns that the writer thinks are a waste. To suggest that an executor should go against the wishes of an estate simply because of his interpretation of his brother's conduct is truly a sad statement about the internal workings of the individual.
That got followed up by this letter writer to a slate.com advice columnist:
The answers varied widely. The worst, however, were the people who answered that yes, the executor should only give his brother money in drips and drabs. Honestly? So, the people who "owned" the money - the parents - legally give it to their son, and instead of doing what they legally established, people think its OK to meddle in those affairs because of some impression that the brother isn't good with money? This a true test of douchebaggery, if you ask me.
Some picked the correct answer: it is the parents' money, the executor is merely there to make sure the parents' wishes are fulfilled, and the money should be conveyed as they wished. Had the parents wanted it distributed in drips and drabs they could have seen to that. Also OK as an answer: offering to help the brother manage such a windfall.
The worst part of it is that the only evidence of the monetary immaturity of the brother is the writer's impression. Who knows what he takes as being irresonsible with money. Maybe his brother buys expensive cars, or antique guns that the writer thinks are a waste. To suggest that an executor should go against the wishes of an estate simply because of his interpretation of his brother's conduct is truly a sad statement about the internal workings of the individual.
That got followed up by this letter writer to a slate.com advice columnist:
I ride on public transportation to and from work everyday. My problem is that I have a very sensitive nose, and I am easily overwhelmed by smells. I am frequently in the uncomfortable position of sitting next to someone who is either wearing far too much cologne or who reeks of cigarettes and beer. I find it very difficult to breathe and end up unsubtly coughing as I inhale these noxious fumes. My commute is a little less than an hour, so I sit next to these people for quite a while. What is the protocol for asking someone to switch his or her seat? If I'm already sitting and there are other seats available, can I ask the olfactory offender to move? Or is it my obligation to move because I'm the one who can't stand the smell? How do I even approach the topic with fellow commuters?
Friday, April 15, 2011
He's just helping out
This article in The New York Times (via Reason) paints a "sympathetic, lighthearted" picture of a beloved person in the community. So beloved that the New York Times runs his story and picture on its front page. A Legal Aid lawyer notes that the man is the "goodwill ambassador of Eighth Avenue" and that everyone says hello to him at his court appearances.
Now, you may have caught on from the last part of that sentence that not everything is on the up and up. In fact, the man - Lonnie Loosie - sells cigarettes on the street. He'll sell you one at a time, with discounts for multiple cigarettes. And he sells packs for $8 (which seems expensive, until you realize they go for $12.50/pack in NY). All this is fine and good. It's a nice story. Except that, as Reason.com notes, you would never see such a story about a guy selling marijuana or, god forbid, something stronger.
Yet the difference between the guy selling Mary Jane and old Loosie is... what exactly? Neither Loosie nor our hypothetical Janer salesman is legally able to hawk his wares. Neither drug drives people to crazy danger looking for a high. Neither is probably very good for you when used in the traditional way. Yet Loosie gets a front page story about how good a community person he is and how he is beloved and merely filling a need created by government policy.
Now, you may have caught on from the last part of that sentence that not everything is on the up and up. In fact, the man - Lonnie Loosie - sells cigarettes on the street. He'll sell you one at a time, with discounts for multiple cigarettes. And he sells packs for $8 (which seems expensive, until you realize they go for $12.50/pack in NY). All this is fine and good. It's a nice story. Except that, as Reason.com notes, you would never see such a story about a guy selling marijuana or, god forbid, something stronger.
Yet the difference between the guy selling Mary Jane and old Loosie is... what exactly? Neither Loosie nor our hypothetical Janer salesman is legally able to hawk his wares. Neither drug drives people to crazy danger looking for a high. Neither is probably very good for you when used in the traditional way. Yet Loosie gets a front page story about how good a community person he is and how he is beloved and merely filling a need created by government policy.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Which is easier: Hitting .250, or writing a half-way decent novel?
Bill James at Slate.com wonders "why are we so good at developing athletes and so lousy at developing writers?"
James makes some good points, but mixes in one truly aweful one and ignores another somewhat easy explanation.
The easy explanation is that writing, at all but its top-most performance, is very subjective, while baseball isn't.
Sure, Shakespeare is universally regarded (and maybe because of that gets undue regard). Outside of him and a handful of others, "good" writing is subjective. Romance, legal thrillers, etc etc etc. Is Grisham good, or a mere hack? He's certainly good at what he does, but does "what he does" constitute hackery? Stephen King sells millions, but is he merely rewriting the same 5 or so stories? Is he formuliac? Is he verbose? Does it matter? The Invisible Man by Ellison (the one about race, not Sci Fi) is considered a classic. It is one of probably one or two books I've ever started that I couldn't finish. It was like reading by rubbing my eye against broken glass.
On the other hand, a guy who hits .300 is pretty good hitter regadless. You can nick-pick whether he gets on base enough, or whether he has sufficient power for this position or that, but honestly, .300 is good. James wonders if some of it is because we already have Shakespeare and Dickens, but we "need" new baseball games every day. It sounds good on first inspection. But we also "need" new books every day. And despite James' contention that we would could and would fill any expansion of baseball teams with new talent of equal character (James suggests even 5,000 [5,000!] teams could be filled with quality talent!), I just don't think its true. In its formative days writing had Dickens and Shakespeare; baseball had Aaron and Ruth. Today, a watered-down and mass produced writing has King and Grisham, while a watered-down and mass produced baseball has all those .240 hitters and come-this-year, gone-the-next relief pitchers with whose names I won't bore you.
James cites baseball's payment-on-potential nature. In other words, baseball pays a young high schooler based on potential, but a writer must toil for years before finding any type of success. True. But a young hurler can have a big impact quickly, and that impact can be predicted with some measure of consistency. Absent injury, a guy consistently pitching 8 innings of 1.25 WHIP ball is likely to be a productive player. A person consistently writing a novel a year, even completely readable, well-written novels, isn't necassarily ever going to turn out a great novel, let alone a profitable one.
So I put it to you: Which is easier... hitting .250 (a mediocre average that would make you an iffy prospect) or writing a half-way decent novel?
James makes some good points, but mixes in one truly aweful one and ignores another somewhat easy explanation.
The easy explanation is that writing, at all but its top-most performance, is very subjective, while baseball isn't.
Sure, Shakespeare is universally regarded (and maybe because of that gets undue regard). Outside of him and a handful of others, "good" writing is subjective. Romance, legal thrillers, etc etc etc. Is Grisham good, or a mere hack? He's certainly good at what he does, but does "what he does" constitute hackery? Stephen King sells millions, but is he merely rewriting the same 5 or so stories? Is he formuliac? Is he verbose? Does it matter? The Invisible Man by Ellison (the one about race, not Sci Fi) is considered a classic. It is one of probably one or two books I've ever started that I couldn't finish. It was like reading by rubbing my eye against broken glass.
On the other hand, a guy who hits .300 is pretty good hitter regadless. You can nick-pick whether he gets on base enough, or whether he has sufficient power for this position or that, but honestly, .300 is good. James wonders if some of it is because we already have Shakespeare and Dickens, but we "need" new baseball games every day. It sounds good on first inspection. But we also "need" new books every day. And despite James' contention that we would could and would fill any expansion of baseball teams with new talent of equal character (James suggests even 5,000 [5,000!] teams could be filled with quality talent!), I just don't think its true. In its formative days writing had Dickens and Shakespeare; baseball had Aaron and Ruth. Today, a watered-down and mass produced writing has King and Grisham, while a watered-down and mass produced baseball has all those .240 hitters and come-this-year, gone-the-next relief pitchers with whose names I won't bore you.
James cites baseball's payment-on-potential nature. In other words, baseball pays a young high schooler based on potential, but a writer must toil for years before finding any type of success. True. But a young hurler can have a big impact quickly, and that impact can be predicted with some measure of consistency. Absent injury, a guy consistently pitching 8 innings of 1.25 WHIP ball is likely to be a productive player. A person consistently writing a novel a year, even completely readable, well-written novels, isn't necassarily ever going to turn out a great novel, let alone a profitable one.
So I put it to you: Which is easier... hitting .250 (a mediocre average that would make you an iffy prospect) or writing a half-way decent novel?
Friday, March 25, 2011
The good old-times weren't always good ...
... and today ain't as bad as it seems.
Talk or read politics or current events long enough and you are sure to run into someone discussing the current crisis in incomes. That is, that incomes have stagnated. People make roughly what they made in the 1970s. It's a travesty, suppposedly. It's blamed on the decline in union power, the meany corporations, globalism, global trade. It's blamed on pretty much an boogey man that can reasonably be dug up.
But as this article points out, while wages may have stagnated, the purchasing power of those wages has increased.
Today, cars cost roughly what they did in 1970 ($20,000ish) but last twice as long. Cars in the 1970s would never have made it to 200,000 miles, which a reasonably cared for car can make these days. And this ignores the mandated safety devices that make these more valuable cars even safer.
Meanwhile, computers, televisions, refrigerators and music playback devices are all cheaper, more convenient and for the most part, built better than in 1970. Back then computers were unobtainable, televisions staticy, refrigerators needed defrosting, and record players and 8-track tapes offered poor quality and limited lifetimes. Meanwhile, computers are now sub-$300 playthings, televisions are low-powered, HD-bulging devices five times larger than their 1970s relatives, plenty of people have two refrigerators, none of which require taking all your frozen goods out of them to defrost them.
Progress.
Talk or read politics or current events long enough and you are sure to run into someone discussing the current crisis in incomes. That is, that incomes have stagnated. People make roughly what they made in the 1970s. It's a travesty, suppposedly. It's blamed on the decline in union power, the meany corporations, globalism, global trade. It's blamed on pretty much an boogey man that can reasonably be dug up.
But as this article points out, while wages may have stagnated, the purchasing power of those wages has increased.
Today, cars cost roughly what they did in 1970 ($20,000ish) but last twice as long. Cars in the 1970s would never have made it to 200,000 miles, which a reasonably cared for car can make these days. And this ignores the mandated safety devices that make these more valuable cars even safer.
Meanwhile, computers, televisions, refrigerators and music playback devices are all cheaper, more convenient and for the most part, built better than in 1970. Back then computers were unobtainable, televisions staticy, refrigerators needed defrosting, and record players and 8-track tapes offered poor quality and limited lifetimes. Meanwhile, computers are now sub-$300 playthings, televisions are low-powered, HD-bulging devices five times larger than their 1970s relatives, plenty of people have two refrigerators, none of which require taking all your frozen goods out of them to defrost them.
Progress.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)