Archive for the ‘musings’ Category

True dat

by wil — Jul. 20, 2010

[Y]ou’re almost certainly wrong about pretty much everything. Not a little wrong, but a LOT wrong.JA

Choose Not to Fall

by wil — Jun. 17, 2010

If you’re afraid to fall…you fall because you’re afraid…
Everything is choice.Choose Not to Fall, Daniel Ilabaca

Middleager

by wil — Mar. 11, 2010

So I’m taking a video/film class — Film 130: Video Production I. “Film” just sounds so much better than “video,” doesn’t it? “Video” evokes crappy home movies, crappy public-access cable programs, crappy crap. “Film” evokes auteurs creating art. But I digress. The other day, during a class discussion, three students — all of whom happen to be 26 — said they felt “old.” I’m 38. If 26 is “old,” what does that make me? Ancient? Decrepit?

I’ve been thinking about my age recently, and the possibility of starting a new career (in film). Let’s face facts, shall we? I’m middle-aged (I’m not one of those people that refuses to use the term “middle-aged”, as if that somehow negates the difference between 18 and 38). If I live to 75 (avg. lifespan), I’m almost exactly at the halfway point. Hmm…you might say it’s the perfect time to start something new. You might also say:

  • You tried to reinvent yourself once before, as a writer/novelist, and failed spectacularly
  • You’re a dreamer, who doesn’t always follow up grandiose visions with necessary action
  • The film industry is an insular, LA-based industry, and you don’t live or want to live in Los Angeles
  • Film-making requires massive amounts of time and energy, and you’re not exactly a workaholic

All good points.

Let me respond (to my own inner critic):

  • You tried to reinvent yourself once before, as a writer/novelist, and failed spectacularly
    • True, but that doesn’t mean I should just give up.
  • You’re a dreamer, who doesn’t always follow up grandiose visions with necessary action
    • True, but sometimes I do.
  • The film industry is an insular, LA-based industry, and you don’t live or want to live in Los Angeles
    • LA is not the end-all-be-all of movie-making. Just take a look at MovieMaker’s 2010 “annual ranking of the country’s best cities in which to be an independent moviemaker.” #1 on the list? Albuquerque, NM
  • Film-making requires massive amounts of time and energy, and you’re not exactly a workaholic
    • It’s just possible, having discovered something I’m really excited about, I’ll be having so much fun I just won’t want to stop.

So maybe I’m not “young and hungry,” but I’m not “old and satiated” either. I’m middle-aged and ready for something new. Brace yourself world. I’m coming out swinging.

January review

by wil — Jan. 30, 2010

January’s almost over, so I thought I’d take a look back at my goals and see how I’m doing, reassess (wow, “reassess” really has a lot of s’s, doesn’t it?) if necessary, etc.

  • Cut out sugar/sweets for a month (January): I lasted about a week without sweets, but I’m happy to say I reduced my refined sugar intake by about 75% for the month — and it was actually pretty painless — so I plan to just stay at this one-quarter sugar level for the foreseeable future.
  • Have kid(s): not yet (this is more like a five-year goal, so no rush)
  • Write a polished/publishable work of fiction (short story, novella, screenplay, etc.): My wife and I have been working on a screenplay. We have lots of notes, outlines, ideas, scene kernels. Now we just need to carve out some time and write an actual, honest-to-goodness scene from start to finish.
  • Visit Nepal (or Bhutan or northern India): not yet (this is also more like a five-year goal)
  • Get in touch with the really real — continue my fledgling meditation practice: Hmm…meditation? I should really do some of that.
  • Continue to swim/exercise regularly: I haven’t really been exercising regularly. A partial excuse: my back went out mid-Jan. and is only now returning to normal (this is actually the third year in a row that my back has gone out in either Jan. or Feb. — weird)
  • Go backpacking/camping at least once a year: not yet
  • Sit less: yes, a bit less
  • Say “yes” more: yes, a bit more
  • Be the change I want to see in the world: This one’s a bit amorphous — I’m working on it.

And my Year of Creativity goals:

  • buy a high-quality amateur camcorder: I’ve been researching camcorders for a few weeks now. I plan to order one today or tomorrow.
  • film a short (or two or three…): not yet…soon!
  • write a screenplay together with my wife: we’re working on it (see above)
  • take “Video Production I – Film 130” at the local community college: I had my first day of class this week. I think it’s going to be fun.

Year of Creativity

by wil — Jan. 4, 2010

I dub 2010 the Year of Creativity. I really want to be more creative this year — particularly in the “making of stuff” sense.

It’s very easy for me to think creatively (imaginatively), but just sort of cruise along and not actual produce much of anything.

I’d like to change that.

And I’d like to thank my parents for their out-of-the-blue, over-the-holidays, get-your-ass-in-gear encouragement. Thanks Mom & Dad!

I’ve always been interested in film (aren’t we all?), so I’m going to pursue that. It may or may not lead anywhere, but I won’t really know unless I give it a try — and I’m sure to have fun along the way. So, in keeping with this new goal, I’m going to:

  1. buy a high-quality amateur camcorder (Red One will have to wait)
  2. film a short (or two or three…)
  3. write a screenplay together with my wife (we’ve already begun writing)
  4. take “Video Production I – Film 130” at the local community college

If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.Henry David Thoreau

Stay tuned…

New Year, New Decade, New Goals

by wil — Dec. 29, 2009

Some of these are goals for 2010, some are goals for the 2010s, some are lifetime goals. I’m writing them here so I’ll see them and you’ll see them; thus, the whole universe will be watching my progress. I’ll try to keep you updated at semi-regular intervals regarding said progress.

I forgot to have children.

  • Cut out sugar/sweets for a month (January)
  • Have kid(s)
  • Write a polished/publishable work of fiction (short story, novella, screenplay, etc.)
  • Visit Nepal (or Bhutan or northern India)
  • Get in touch with the really real — continue my fledgling meditation practice
  • Continue to swim/exercise regularly
  • Go backpacking/camping at least once a year (seriously, do not let another backpack-less year pass by!)
  • Sit less
  • Say “yes” more
  • Be the change I want to see in the world

Shout-outs to Ponies and Unicorns, Not Your Average Ordinary, and Profound Nonsense. Thanks for the inspiration.

P.S. Happy New Year!

Nutritionism, Scientism, and hyper-rationality

by wil — Nov. 2, 2009

In Defense of FoodI was out of town for about a week recently, and I picked up Michael Pollan’s In Defense of Food. I’d been aware of Pollan as a slow-food spokesperson for a while now (it’s hard not to be, he gets a lot of press), so I thought I’d give him a try. In Defense of Food is a quick, enjoyable read (it reads like a long magazine article). Pollan is funny, and he makes a good, strong case against nutritionism, the reductionist ideology “that we should understand and engage with food and our bodies [solely] in terms of their nutritional and chemical constituents and requirements.” His slow-food, whole-food, pro-food philosophy (which I already largely subscribe to) boils down to three simple statements: Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.

Meanwhile, my wife’s been reading Nourishing Traditions: The Cookbook that Challenges Politically Correct Nutrition and the Diet Dictocrats (another slow-food, whole-food, pro-food, anti-nutritionism book) and the intuition-focused Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking and telling me all about them. So what do these three books have in common? They all make a case against overly-analytical, reductionist thinking — something I see way too much of these days.

I’m not anti-science — seriously, science is cool — but I’m really tired of scientism, the notion that science is the ultimate (neutral, unbiased) arbiter of everything, that science can and will (very soon) have the (correct, ultimate) answer for everything, etc. Basically, Science #1, Everything Else #2.

There’s this rampant (annoying) idea that scientific validation is extremely important…that you really shouldn’t trust your traditions or intuition too much without the scientific stamp of approval. Take this recent example: In this month’s Wired, Clive Thompson writes about the benefits of daydreaming. But he doesn’t just give his thoughts on the subject, he first points out that, in the past, “brain scientists viewed a wandering mind as merely a lapse in cognition” (i.e., they got it wrong), then immediately goes on to write about current (presumably correct) scientific thinking on the subject. God forbid he just give his opinion or trust that daydreaming, by its very prevalence, might be indicative of some underlying usefulness.

The whole thing reminds me of the trust-us-eggs-are-bad-for-you-because-of-cholesterol–oops-never-mind-eggs-are-now-ok-for-you silliness.

Sure, folk wisdom and gut instinct can lead you astray, but so can science. Rational thought and careful analysis are great, but I say, why not use your whole mind (the rational, the emotional, the intuitive, the imaginative, etc.)? And don’t forget to eat your veggies! ;-)

Losing my religion

by wil — Sep. 10, 2009

A couple of recent blog posts (@ Nordquist and meli-mello) got me thinking about religion…

I’m not religious, but I grew up going to church. My parents dragged my brothers and me off to church most Sundays when we were growing up. Sometimes we even went on Wednesday evenings for a church dinner thing. I remember liking the dinners (cake!), the communion wafers and grape juice (snack time!), and most of all, getting together with my brothers after Sunday school and/or the main service and running around the church playing chase and looking for leftover donuts.

I’m not exactly sure why my parents bothered to take us. They’re not all that religious themselves. They never quoted scripture. We never said grace. I wasn’t taught a goodnight prayer. I was never baptized (much to my maternal grandmother’s chagrin). And when we grew up and stopped going to church, my parents both stopped going as well.

I don’t fully understand my parents’ motives (I should ask them), but I suppose going to church was just part of raising “good” kids. You take the kids to church, you listen to a few sermons, a few morality tales…hopefully you learn a bit about God and Christian values. And in a secular sense, you become familiar with the Bible as a cultural foundational text.

In college, I joined a Christian men’s group for a short time, but other than that, I simply drifted away from Christianity. I didn’t have a crisis of faith, I just sort of melted away. For a long time though, I still internally thought of myself as an (inactive) Christian. I tried/try to be a “good person”, and “good person” was really tightly linked with “Christian” for me (“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” and all that). But eventually it just seemed sort of silly to call myself a Christian, when I didn’t believe in any of the basic tenets of Christianity.

Nowadays, I call myself an agnostic believer. I believe in the mysterious nature of the universe/existence. I believe in subjective experience. I believe in multiple/subjective/private realities (hardcore atheism and dogmatic scientific materialism can bite me). I believe belief can be a good thing.

So that’s me. How about you?

Fight Club

by wil — Aug. 28, 2009

Fight Club

Fight Club

I rewatched Fight Club last night. At times cringingly brutal, but oh-so-stylish and thought-provoking:

The things you own end up owning you.

We are consumers. We are byproducts of a lifestyle obsession. Murder, crime, poverty — these things don’t concern me. What concerns me are celebrity magazines, television with 500 channels, some guys name on my underwear. Rogaine, Viagra, Olestra.

Martha Stewart.

F*ck Martha Stewart. Martha’s polishing the brass on the Titanic. It’s all going down man. So f*ck off with your sofa units and Strinne green stripe patterns. I say never be complete. I say stop being perfect. I say, let’s evolve.

I see all this potential, and I see it squandered. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables, slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate, so we can buy sh*t we don’t need.

We’re the middle children of history, no purpose or place. We have no Great War, no Great Depression. Our great war is a spiritual war. Our great depression is our lives. We’ve all been raised on television to believe that one day we’d be millionaires and movie gods and rock stars, but we won’t. We’re slowly learning that fact, and we’re very, very pissed off.

You are not your job. You’re not how much money you have in the bank. You’re not the car you drive. You’re not the contents of your wallet. You’re not your f*cking khakis.

Amen. It’s almost as if Tyler Durden is an insane, warped, testosterone-pumped Buddhist master. I’m not Buddhist by any stretch of the imagination, but I’ve read a bit of Buddhist philosophy (and my wife’s read lots of Buddhist philosophy), and in it there’s this idea of emptiness — often called wisdom realizing emptiness or Sunyata — where nothing has any fixed, permanent nature; ergo, you’re not your job, your car, your khakis…you’re not even your body, your memories. You’re not who you used to be. You’re not who you’re going to be. “You” is just a hazy, convenient term for something that’s changing constantly. And you’re constantly reacting/interacting with all these other hazy, changing entities: your friends, your family, your culture, your language. Everything’s in constant motion, everything fades, and getting the perfect sofa or the big screen tv or the iPhone 3GS isn’t really the answer (that is to say, though they might be fun, they’re not important).

It’s all just moments. Savour the moment.

CDs?

by wil — Aug. 3, 2009

My wife and I own ~350 CDs and they’re still in their cases and they take up a lot of room — a whole CD shelf. My question to dear readers and random passersby is, should we just rip and get rid of our CDs? Should we buy a compact, CD organizer thingy?

Points to consider:

  • My wife and I both have MP3 players, but they have different stuff on them and occasionally, they have issues (like sometimes, the computer won’t recognize the player, so you can’t add new songs for a few hours/days/weeks).
  • Sometimes it really is easier to just grab a CD (especially if it’s a compilation and you know where the CD is but you don’t quite remember how to find it on a player*) and pop it in a CD player.
  • Album art, liner notes (do I really ever look at those?)

Suggestions?

* For example, on my player, the Smiths don’t appear under Artists, and “How Soon is Now” is filed under “Wedding Singer Original Soundtrack”.   :-/