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1 year late
by Antonio Wong on Friday, December 31, 2010 at 6:40pm
I had a grandiose summation of the decade planned out in my mind. A bittersweet nostalgia-filled recap of the first 10 years of the 21st century, a decade I began as a teenager and ended as a senior citizen. The pompous pontification, random references and revisionist recollections were all lined up. Unfortunately that decade ended last year. We are 364 1/2+ days into the first year of the second decade of the 21st century.
All days are not created equal. Today is December 31st, 2010. Right now, the crowds are gathering in Times Square, all manner of flesh is being stuffed into everything from too high shoes to too small dresses to too full ovens to too late guest lists. People all over NYC are preparing to do what people from Hong Kong to London have been doing for the last 12 hours. Get completely wasted and convince themselves that the passing of a particular moment in time when the last digit on their date stamp turns over to 2011 will usher in a new era, a clean slate, a fresh start.
Father time will fire a magic bullet into the temporal ether and erase the follies of the previous x number of years and this year will be different.
This year you will finally make it. This year you will figure it out. This year you will eat less, make more, drink less, love more, spend less, live more. This year you won't just be livin' on a prayer. This year you weren't born to follow. This year you will stop Always using Bon Jovi songs to make sweeping generalizations about life. This year you will stop giving love a bad name. However unlikely it is that this year will bring about any of the changes you so desperately seek. Take solace that this year will go by one day at a time just like all the other ones before.
A new year is just as good a time to start as any new minute you may come across. Change is possible, but not because you break open a new calendar or watch a thick Italian girl drop from the sky. Change comes when you commit to it without fanfare or proclamations.
Genuine sustainable change is a chain of individual decisions to go one way instead of another. Take enough steps to the left or right and eventually you'll turn around, take too many and you'll be headed right back where you were going before.
This year I turned in my wristbands, hand stamps, private booths, corner tables and the rest of the ballyhooed nonsense that preoccupies the minds of so many.This year I relapsed briefly and retraced some old ground. This year I discovered the power of no. This year I learned new answers to very simple questions.
Happiness is so ridiculously easy that constantly overlooking it is equally simple. Your life is like a gated community with varying degrees of security. Just about everything that makes its way in gained access with your full permission however unintentional it may have been. I have long since lost my wherewithal to try and help others see past the blinders of their own petty ignorance. I have also realized that it was my own petty arrogance that led me to believe I had a right and a duty to part fools from their stupidity.
Instead I have focused my efforts on keeping what I cannot change at bay. All that seeks to undermine my hard fought sanity and freedom will be held beyond the gates. Anything that threatens this peace will also be summarily exiled. It may not be the most elegant of systems nor does it engender much social interaction, but it damn sure is effective.
This year is mine.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
Drive
Climb into 3 tons of steel, start a small explosion using electricity and gasoline and lumber onto strips of asphalt with other metallic boulders hurtling in different directions at about 73 feet per second all while navigating through a maze of lights, signs and increasingly blind pedestrians using bits of rubber and reflective glass. However this seemingly death defying act of sheer madness is orchestrated on a daily basis by hundreds of millions of people and it's actually quite enjoyable as long you're not driving near any taxis or Chinatowns.
Yet people are far more terrified of necrotizing fasciitis and paying for health insurance than from getting into their cars every morning. That's very understandable because driving is fun whereas flesh eating bacteria and deductible payments are not. What is it about driving that is so darn enjoyable anyhow?
Personally I always feel a soothing sense of tranquility on long drives. Whether it's a familiar trek down the Garden State Parkway or a quick run from McCarran onto 1-15, something about having a destination and the wherewithal to reach it provides a small sense of fulfillment and that ever elusive illusion of control.
It isn't always easy. There are plenty of obstacles that stand in the way of a comfortable drive; traffic jams, traffic cops, cabbies, texters, mobile makeup artists, state troopers, BICYCLISTS, truckers, soccer moms, drunk dads, minivans, fallen trees, falling rocks, carjackers, moon walkers, panhandlers and squeegee men. Then there's the cost of gas, cost of cars, cost of tolls, cost of insurance, cost of not having insurance, cost of parking, cost of parking tickets, cost of fighting ticket, and the cost of taxes to maintain the unions that "maintain" the endless roads, byways and highways.
Despite all of this crap, the simple joy of driving still emerges victorious.
Life is hard. Taking control of your life and deciding what you're going to do with it is even harder. The odds against success are enormous, but difficulty is not to be confused with impossibility. Think about the odds you had to beat to be sitting here right now reading the miscellaneous thoughts streaming from my semi-consciousness.
Your odds of just being born were about 1 in 390 to 412 million multiplied by approximately 1 in 800 depending on your father's virility. So just to enter this world was about a 1 in 320,000,000,000. Now multiply that by the odds of being a facebook user (1 in 12) that reads my notes (205 out of 500,000,000) Very small is a gross exaggeration of how unlikely this whole endeavor is.
So now we know why Han Solo didn't much care for odds.
Chances are you won't succeed, but then again the chances were that you should never have existed to begin with. So what are you waiting for? Get out there and get some drive!
Yet people are far more terrified of necrotizing fasciitis and paying for health insurance than from getting into their cars every morning. That's very understandable because driving is fun whereas flesh eating bacteria and deductible payments are not. What is it about driving that is so darn enjoyable anyhow?
Personally I always feel a soothing sense of tranquility on long drives. Whether it's a familiar trek down the Garden State Parkway or a quick run from McCarran onto 1-15, something about having a destination and the wherewithal to reach it provides a small sense of fulfillment and that ever elusive illusion of control.
It isn't always easy. There are plenty of obstacles that stand in the way of a comfortable drive; traffic jams, traffic cops, cabbies, texters, mobile makeup artists, state troopers, BICYCLISTS, truckers, soccer moms, drunk dads, minivans, fallen trees, falling rocks, carjackers, moon walkers, panhandlers and squeegee men. Then there's the cost of gas, cost of cars, cost of tolls, cost of insurance, cost of not having insurance, cost of parking, cost of parking tickets, cost of fighting ticket, and the cost of taxes to maintain the unions that "maintain" the endless roads, byways and highways.
Despite all of this crap, the simple joy of driving still emerges victorious.
Life is hard. Taking control of your life and deciding what you're going to do with it is even harder. The odds against success are enormous, but difficulty is not to be confused with impossibility. Think about the odds you had to beat to be sitting here right now reading the miscellaneous thoughts streaming from my semi-consciousness.
Your odds of just being born were about 1 in 390 to 412 million multiplied by approximately 1 in 800 depending on your father's virility. So just to enter this world was about a 1 in 320,000,000,000. Now multiply that by the odds of being a facebook user (1 in 12) that reads my notes (205 out of 500,000,000) Very small is a gross exaggeration of how unlikely this whole endeavor is.
So now we know why Han Solo didn't much care for odds.
Chances are you won't succeed, but then again the chances were that you should never have existed to begin with. So what are you waiting for? Get out there and get some drive!
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Hindsight. (Irrelevant yet strangely powerful)
I lack the psychiatric and neurobiological credentials to properly explain how our brains use hindsight and confirmation bias to create a wildly inaccurate subjective reality. Suffice it to say that this nifty little mental parlor trick is the linchpin of nearly every facet of modern society. It ensures the smooth functioning of everything from casinos and bottle service to elected politicians and online dating. Our minds are designed with a critical flaw; we can only perceive the present, ponder the past yet cannot predict the future. However we are constantly forced to make decisions regarding the future and the only available data comes from events which have already occurred.
Now any finance jockey and/or degenerate gambler can tell you that past performance does not guarantee future results. Nature has done a pretty good job so far. I suppose evolution was far more concerned with us not jumping off cliffs and eating poisonous mushrooms rather than picking a good IPO or the right horse in the Third race at Churchill downs. Having the ability to predict the future would make for some very interesting TV, but I guess it would lead to pure chaos. Temporal mechanics is a messy subject.
Hindsight is a smug little son of a bitch which sits on the periphery of your mind and taunts you incessantly. It is the employer of every talking head on television and windbag at the bar fueling the endless choruses of "woulda coulda shoulda." Every single moment passing into the next is the result of an impossibly infinite array of probabilities collapsing into a single instance of actuality. Anything can happen, absolutely anything yet our little minds try to tell us that "I knew that was going to happen."
Is it a little insane that I am sitting here in the middle of the night railing against how my brain functions? 10 years ago tonight I have absolutely no idea what I was doing. If I knew what I knew now I would have bought all the right things, could have owned a piece of all the right companies and should have been drunk of of 60 year old scotch on a Saturday night instead of lamenting over the inefficiency of the human condition. But there's that asshole hindsight acting up again.
I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. I would like to. History suggests that it will involve food, TV and a fair amount of driving. Hindsight, for all of it's evil, doesn't work alone. He has an equally sick partner in crime called hope, don't get me started on her. The two of them together make Madoff look like a girl scout. I think I finally understand why it's so important to enjoy the things you do while also taking the time to do the things you enjoy.
Lamenting over the things you could have done only paves the way for more self-destructive disassociation from reality and responsibility . Hindsight is as powerful a drug as they come and should only be used as a recreational tool.
The world owes you nothing so don't take it personally.
Now any finance jockey and/or degenerate gambler can tell you that past performance does not guarantee future results. Nature has done a pretty good job so far. I suppose evolution was far more concerned with us not jumping off cliffs and eating poisonous mushrooms rather than picking a good IPO or the right horse in the Third race at Churchill downs. Having the ability to predict the future would make for some very interesting TV, but I guess it would lead to pure chaos. Temporal mechanics is a messy subject.
Hindsight is a smug little son of a bitch which sits on the periphery of your mind and taunts you incessantly. It is the employer of every talking head on television and windbag at the bar fueling the endless choruses of "woulda coulda shoulda." Every single moment passing into the next is the result of an impossibly infinite array of probabilities collapsing into a single instance of actuality. Anything can happen, absolutely anything yet our little minds try to tell us that "I knew that was going to happen."
Is it a little insane that I am sitting here in the middle of the night railing against how my brain functions? 10 years ago tonight I have absolutely no idea what I was doing. If I knew what I knew now I would have bought all the right things, could have owned a piece of all the right companies and should have been drunk of of 60 year old scotch on a Saturday night instead of lamenting over the inefficiency of the human condition. But there's that asshole hindsight acting up again.
I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. I would like to. History suggests that it will involve food, TV and a fair amount of driving. Hindsight, for all of it's evil, doesn't work alone. He has an equally sick partner in crime called hope, don't get me started on her. The two of them together make Madoff look like a girl scout. I think I finally understand why it's so important to enjoy the things you do while also taking the time to do the things you enjoy.
Lamenting over the things you could have done only paves the way for more self-destructive disassociation from reality and responsibility . Hindsight is as powerful a drug as they come and should only be used as a recreational tool.
The world owes you nothing so don't take it personally.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Will
It has been over two months since my last rant.
The biggest reason for the hiatus is a lack of new material. Being a hermit does not impart the level of inspiration that literary loners would have you believe. Another reason is that long impassioned diatribes against the follies of the world are ironically foolish. Cathartic, but mostly foolish. Perhaps the lag between entries means that I've become a much calmer person.
I do find it much more difficult to get angry these days. In fact it's much more harder to get happy, sad or even annoyed. Age seems to bringing with it an ever growing sense of detachment from the effects of day to day occurrences. What a long winded way of saying that life has become boring! But boring doesn't quite describe this most recent stretch of life. Numb seems to be more apt. A general numbness to stimuli seems to plague me.
At first I thought it was burnout from way too much work and excitement in the past few years. But then I took a very long break from everything and everyone and then even went on a nice long escape twice in the past few months. But still the numbness is pervasive. The need for instant gratification and stimulation overload are to blame. Perceptually there is too long of a lag between the exertion of will and desired outcome.
That lag is the explanation for why New Year's resolutions consistently fail. There is definitely plenty of faulty engineering with our brains. We perceive existence from one moment to the next yet if we are to achieve success on any meaningful level then we have to take actions for which there is no immediate positive feedback. In a nutshell that explains the power of chocolate cake and strippers over granola bars and 401k contributions. Luckily for me I'm allergic to chocolate and financial planning.
Free will is a grand notion which has very misleading implications. We all have to ability to choose a great deal of our own actions. Consequently most people believe that those actions have a disproportionately large effect on the eventual outcome. I'm going to avoid the obvious poker/life analogies that are springing to mind. The harsh reality is that while are choices may determine who we are, chances are what really dictate the action.
You can argue that chance is the aggregate result of individual choices colliding and collapsing upon one another in an ocean of whims and decisions, but that doesn't change the fact that a single individual has little to no control over randomness.
Where does that leave us?
Row row row your boat. The constant exertion of your free will towards your desired result is the only way to steer yourself towards your destination. But there's no guarantee you'll get there. There's even a chance that if you do nothing you still might get there. So why in the hell should you row at all? I don't know. You could just lay back and see where the currents take you, but that usually leads to some unpleasantness involving sinking or getting the boat repossessed.
Nautical themes aside, force of will is necessary, but not nearly as effective as I'd like it to be.
That's a very weak conclusion and it is leaving me most unsatisfied.
When will power alone isn't enough to achieve the desired outcome, what can you do to supplement your will? If I knew, I'd be out doing it instead of puzzling it over here on an idle Thursday night.
What do you do?
The biggest reason for the hiatus is a lack of new material. Being a hermit does not impart the level of inspiration that literary loners would have you believe. Another reason is that long impassioned diatribes against the follies of the world are ironically foolish. Cathartic, but mostly foolish. Perhaps the lag between entries means that I've become a much calmer person.
I do find it much more difficult to get angry these days. In fact it's much more harder to get happy, sad or even annoyed. Age seems to bringing with it an ever growing sense of detachment from the effects of day to day occurrences. What a long winded way of saying that life has become boring! But boring doesn't quite describe this most recent stretch of life. Numb seems to be more apt. A general numbness to stimuli seems to plague me.
At first I thought it was burnout from way too much work and excitement in the past few years. But then I took a very long break from everything and everyone and then even went on a nice long escape twice in the past few months. But still the numbness is pervasive. The need for instant gratification and stimulation overload are to blame. Perceptually there is too long of a lag between the exertion of will and desired outcome.
That lag is the explanation for why New Year's resolutions consistently fail. There is definitely plenty of faulty engineering with our brains. We perceive existence from one moment to the next yet if we are to achieve success on any meaningful level then we have to take actions for which there is no immediate positive feedback. In a nutshell that explains the power of chocolate cake and strippers over granola bars and 401k contributions. Luckily for me I'm allergic to chocolate and financial planning.
Free will is a grand notion which has very misleading implications. We all have to ability to choose a great deal of our own actions. Consequently most people believe that those actions have a disproportionately large effect on the eventual outcome. I'm going to avoid the obvious poker/life analogies that are springing to mind. The harsh reality is that while are choices may determine who we are, chances are what really dictate the action.
You can argue that chance is the aggregate result of individual choices colliding and collapsing upon one another in an ocean of whims and decisions, but that doesn't change the fact that a single individual has little to no control over randomness.
Where does that leave us?
Row row row your boat. The constant exertion of your free will towards your desired result is the only way to steer yourself towards your destination. But there's no guarantee you'll get there. There's even a chance that if you do nothing you still might get there. So why in the hell should you row at all? I don't know. You could just lay back and see where the currents take you, but that usually leads to some unpleasantness involving sinking or getting the boat repossessed.
Nautical themes aside, force of will is necessary, but not nearly as effective as I'd like it to be.
That's a very weak conclusion and it is leaving me most unsatisfied.
When will power alone isn't enough to achieve the desired outcome, what can you do to supplement your will? If I knew, I'd be out doing it instead of puzzling it over here on an idle Thursday night.
What do you do?
Friday, July 16, 2010
There are 10 types of people in this world
"There are 10 types of people in this world. Those who understand binary and those who don't."
-mathematical humor on a T-shirt
On most mornings I drive across the Williamsburg bridge to get into the city. Generally traffic is miserably congested and strangely lopsided. One roadway is bumper to bumper while the other one is smooth cruising the entire length of the bridge. There are four lanes divided into an inner and outer roadway. The inner roadway has limited clearance so trucks and other large vehicles are forced to use the outer roadway. Conventional wisdom would suggest that in the absence of additional information, the lane without trucks would move the fastest. So the inner roadway should be the route of choice.
However you have to take into account the fact that there are far more cars than there are trucks and the majority of trucks are forced onto the Manhattan and Brooklyn bridge because of height restrictions on the Williamsburg. Also truck drivers tend to be more experienced and if they're out on the road in the morning then they are on a route and should be moving with some urgency. So a simple analysis of the situation would reveal that the outer roadway is ideal.
But at the end of the bridge the outer roadway is further divided. The right lane must turn right onto Clinton St; a small thoroughfare with heavy pedestrian traffic clogging the crosswalk which in turn jams the right lane back about 1/3 of the bridge length. Drivers attempting to make lane changes at the end of the bridge also back up traffic on the outer roadway.
So no we're back to square 1. Take the inner road way.
However at the end of the inner roadway the bridge opens into an S shaped wall of orange cones which creates a brief bottlneck between the first and 2nd traffic lights on Delancey. This causes a merging nightmare as frustrated morning drivers refuse to yield to each other.
So what the hell do you do? Which way has less traffic? Which route will be a 3 minute zip and which one will be a 25 minute stop and go exercise in road rage?
You have to choose.
Left or right.
If you guess correctly then you will be rewarded with an expeditious crossing of the east river and be on your way into Manhattan with a smile on your face. If you guess incorrectly then you will have to endure a snail's crawl across the span while watching the drivers who made the correct choice rush past you. As you roll forward inches at a time it begins to feel as if every car whooshing past you in the other lane is filled with a smugly self-satisfied driver laughing hysterically at your predicament.
So as you get on the bridge whether from the BQE ramp, Roebling street or through Washington Plaza you face a choice. Cars appear to be moving quickly in both lanes, but you know better than that. You know that one way is heaven and the other way is hell. But time is running out. This is a decision that will affect the rest of your day, your week or even your year.
Left?
Right?
PICK ONE!
Pause.
Go into bullet time. Everything slows down as the breadth and depth of experience washes over you. Take into account the time of day, the traffic patterns around you, is it a Jewish holiday, is school in session, have the medium sized rigs already made their delivery, what day of the week is it, do you see any Chinese commuter vans (they always know which lane is clear.)
There are 3 seconds left until the fork in the road.
Think faster!
Two. Why oh why didn't you just wake up earlier today.
One.
Then your eye catches it. A flashing orange light and a long slow road of traffic. It's a lane closure!!! One of the roadways is experiencing a lane closure. This makes the decision crystal clear.
The lane closure is flashing brightly in the outer roadway.
Which way do you go?
-mathematical humor on a T-shirt
On most mornings I drive across the Williamsburg bridge to get into the city. Generally traffic is miserably congested and strangely lopsided. One roadway is bumper to bumper while the other one is smooth cruising the entire length of the bridge. There are four lanes divided into an inner and outer roadway. The inner roadway has limited clearance so trucks and other large vehicles are forced to use the outer roadway. Conventional wisdom would suggest that in the absence of additional information, the lane without trucks would move the fastest. So the inner roadway should be the route of choice.
However you have to take into account the fact that there are far more cars than there are trucks and the majority of trucks are forced onto the Manhattan and Brooklyn bridge because of height restrictions on the Williamsburg. Also truck drivers tend to be more experienced and if they're out on the road in the morning then they are on a route and should be moving with some urgency. So a simple analysis of the situation would reveal that the outer roadway is ideal.
But at the end of the bridge the outer roadway is further divided. The right lane must turn right onto Clinton St; a small thoroughfare with heavy pedestrian traffic clogging the crosswalk which in turn jams the right lane back about 1/3 of the bridge length. Drivers attempting to make lane changes at the end of the bridge also back up traffic on the outer roadway.
So no we're back to square 1. Take the inner road way.
However at the end of the inner roadway the bridge opens into an S shaped wall of orange cones which creates a brief bottlneck between the first and 2nd traffic lights on Delancey. This causes a merging nightmare as frustrated morning drivers refuse to yield to each other.
So what the hell do you do? Which way has less traffic? Which route will be a 3 minute zip and which one will be a 25 minute stop and go exercise in road rage?
You have to choose.
Left or right.
If you guess correctly then you will be rewarded with an expeditious crossing of the east river and be on your way into Manhattan with a smile on your face. If you guess incorrectly then you will have to endure a snail's crawl across the span while watching the drivers who made the correct choice rush past you. As you roll forward inches at a time it begins to feel as if every car whooshing past you in the other lane is filled with a smugly self-satisfied driver laughing hysterically at your predicament.
So as you get on the bridge whether from the BQE ramp, Roebling street or through Washington Plaza you face a choice. Cars appear to be moving quickly in both lanes, but you know better than that. You know that one way is heaven and the other way is hell. But time is running out. This is a decision that will affect the rest of your day, your week or even your year.
Left?
Right?
PICK ONE!
Pause.
Go into bullet time. Everything slows down as the breadth and depth of experience washes over you. Take into account the time of day, the traffic patterns around you, is it a Jewish holiday, is school in session, have the medium sized rigs already made their delivery, what day of the week is it, do you see any Chinese commuter vans (they always know which lane is clear.)
There are 3 seconds left until the fork in the road.
Think faster!
Two. Why oh why didn't you just wake up earlier today.
One.
Then your eye catches it. A flashing orange light and a long slow road of traffic. It's a lane closure!!! One of the roadways is experiencing a lane closure. This makes the decision crystal clear.
The lane closure is flashing brightly in the outer roadway.
Which way do you go?
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
If you can't stand the heat
Buy an air conditioner.
If only all of life's problems were so easy to solve. But they are. Earlier today I watched a short documentary on minimum wage workers, aptly titled "Minimum Wage." Imagine Morgan Spurlock sitting at his desk. Having spent months chronicling the harsh struggles of the working poor in their futile conflict of sustenance versus solvency he needed to come up with a title. He spent 30 days working minimum wage jobs to experience what millions of Americans have to deal with on a daily basis. What should he name his documentary about living on minimum wage? Eureka! MINIMUM WAGE!
One more problem solved.
But let's move on to bigger problems. Minimum wage is not an issue that the Facebook demographic has to contend with. However the plight of the minimum wage worker is universal, financial inadequacy, or more colloquially, being broke-ass.
American society has a hypocritical adoration and false sympathy for the noble poor who live on nothing even though we all want to be a billionaire so freaking bad. What is the difference between what a laborer is worth and what a laborer is paid?
PROFIT....gasp.
This applies to all employees whether you're scraping roadkill off a highway or batting for the Yankees (Mets players are probably the sole exception to this universal principle.) Somebody is making money off of you. That's how the system works. Supply and demand in all of its infinite combinations.
Recoil in liberal horror as the harsh reality of a capitalist market based economy crashes on your bleeding heart.
When did profit become a dirty word? Why do corporations get away with using hordes of minimum wage or even below minimum wage workers? The same reason why the land is littered with drug dealers and prostitutes. Because people are willing to do it. This is not because they don't know that there are other opportunities, but because they settle for what they can get instead of what they can reach.
The driving force behind our entire economy and cultural psychology is bridging the gap between the haves and have-nots. Whether it's; food, freedom, security, iPads, iPhones, iPods, cars, yachts, mansions and lingerie model trophy girlfriends, consumption is key.
Once our basic needs of water, food and shelter are met, everything else becomes a whirlpool of advertisements, social programming and general white noise to occupy our sentient minds which would otherwise implode trying to figure out why the universe exists.
How the hell did we get go from economics to existentialist metaphysics? Back to minimum wage.
There is a large supply of people on this planet and all of them have a host of physiological demands. However since we decided to move past living in caves we also have a massive manufactured psychological demand for stuff. As the supply of people increases geometrically the artificial demand for stuff must also increase. Because we've done such a fine job of producing and distributing food, because there has to be something else to occupy the masses with once they're full.
How on earth does all of this justify minimum wage?
Minimum wage jobs have extremely high rates of turnover because people cannot survive on it. It is the inherent in unsustainable nature of this labor which drives people to seek out more gainful sources of employment or entrepreneurship. It takes some measure of being poor and hungry to motivate people to become rich and fat.
But then why do some people get stuck in these dead-end jobs for their whole lives? That's not right. That's not fair. They deserve better. No. They don't.
Social Darwinism. Those who are satisfied with their lot in life stop striving for a better one. Those who are unsatisfied with their life, but take no meaningful steps to improve it are getting exactly what they deserve. Those who try and fail are simply unfortunate, but they can live their lives satisfied in the knowledge that they've already gone much farther than most who simply bitch and moan.
Many of the greatest innovators in the history of humanity have started with little or nothing. Through sheer force of will, faith in their vision and fortitude of spirit they have forged nations, bent light, built cities and created gold from every substance imaginable.
So either make an effort to realize your dreams or resign yourself to the fact that even though your life will be a menial nightmare you are helping someone else create wealth.
Earn or burn, there's always a choice.
If only all of life's problems were so easy to solve. But they are. Earlier today I watched a short documentary on minimum wage workers, aptly titled "Minimum Wage." Imagine Morgan Spurlock sitting at his desk. Having spent months chronicling the harsh struggles of the working poor in their futile conflict of sustenance versus solvency he needed to come up with a title. He spent 30 days working minimum wage jobs to experience what millions of Americans have to deal with on a daily basis. What should he name his documentary about living on minimum wage? Eureka! MINIMUM WAGE!
One more problem solved.
But let's move on to bigger problems. Minimum wage is not an issue that the Facebook demographic has to contend with. However the plight of the minimum wage worker is universal, financial inadequacy, or more colloquially, being broke-ass.
American society has a hypocritical adoration and false sympathy for the noble poor who live on nothing even though we all want to be a billionaire so freaking bad. What is the difference between what a laborer is worth and what a laborer is paid?
PROFIT....gasp.
This applies to all employees whether you're scraping roadkill off a highway or batting for the Yankees (Mets players are probably the sole exception to this universal principle.) Somebody is making money off of you. That's how the system works. Supply and demand in all of its infinite combinations.
Recoil in liberal horror as the harsh reality of a capitalist market based economy crashes on your bleeding heart.
When did profit become a dirty word? Why do corporations get away with using hordes of minimum wage or even below minimum wage workers? The same reason why the land is littered with drug dealers and prostitutes. Because people are willing to do it. This is not because they don't know that there are other opportunities, but because they settle for what they can get instead of what they can reach.
The driving force behind our entire economy and cultural psychology is bridging the gap between the haves and have-nots. Whether it's; food, freedom, security, iPads, iPhones, iPods, cars, yachts, mansions and lingerie model trophy girlfriends, consumption is key.
Once our basic needs of water, food and shelter are met, everything else becomes a whirlpool of advertisements, social programming and general white noise to occupy our sentient minds which would otherwise implode trying to figure out why the universe exists.
How the hell did we get go from economics to existentialist metaphysics? Back to minimum wage.
There is a large supply of people on this planet and all of them have a host of physiological demands. However since we decided to move past living in caves we also have a massive manufactured psychological demand for stuff. As the supply of people increases geometrically the artificial demand for stuff must also increase. Because we've done such a fine job of producing and distributing food, because there has to be something else to occupy the masses with once they're full.
How on earth does all of this justify minimum wage?
Minimum wage jobs have extremely high rates of turnover because people cannot survive on it. It is the inherent in unsustainable nature of this labor which drives people to seek out more gainful sources of employment or entrepreneurship. It takes some measure of being poor and hungry to motivate people to become rich and fat.
But then why do some people get stuck in these dead-end jobs for their whole lives? That's not right. That's not fair. They deserve better. No. They don't.
Social Darwinism. Those who are satisfied with their lot in life stop striving for a better one. Those who are unsatisfied with their life, but take no meaningful steps to improve it are getting exactly what they deserve. Those who try and fail are simply unfortunate, but they can live their lives satisfied in the knowledge that they've already gone much farther than most who simply bitch and moan.
Many of the greatest innovators in the history of humanity have started with little or nothing. Through sheer force of will, faith in their vision and fortitude of spirit they have forged nations, bent light, built cities and created gold from every substance imaginable.
So either make an effort to realize your dreams or resign yourself to the fact that even though your life will be a menial nightmare you are helping someone else create wealth.
Earn or burn, there's always a choice.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Beating the Sunrise
Back in college I had the most durable alarm clock of all time. Whenever it would go off in the morning I'd slap the snooze button with a vengeance, kick it across the room, swing a baton at it, basically whatever it took to make it shut up. Eventually I managed to jump off the top bunk, turn off the alarm and fall back asleep in one graceful motion. Nowadays I always wake up 10 minutes before the alarm rings just so I can turn it off. Nothing quite like a preemptive strike.
Recently however I find myself waking up right before the sun comes up. That's one alarm clock that's a little more difficult to turn off. I suppose I could get automatic blackout shades on a timer, but that wouldn't be any fun. Unfortunately the sun comes up at about 5:20am which leaves me with even more time to wonder and ponder about things that don't really matter.
Where is this other cuff link? Why can't people see themselves? If you could relive the last 10 years, what would you change? What would happen to the time line? Would you have to kill your past self in order to take your own place? If you did that wouldn't you die too?
For better or worse the space time continuum will have to take care of itself for now. There are far more pressing matters on the agenda today. There are deals to be made, chops to be busted, shit to shoot and rules to be bent. I used to think that sleep was a necessity right up there with food and water. But maybe sleep is more like fried chicken. Its awfully good, but we could all do with a little less of it.
Ironically I'm getting pretty sleepy as I write this or did the previous analogy make me hungry? At this time of day, I'm relatively content. The world has yet to infuriate me with its inane prattle and petty nonsense. While that may be good for my blood pressure levels, it makes for some rather dull writing.
If calm=dull then anger=excitement? Help me out here you law jockeys.
For nearly a month now I've found myself extremely mellow. I almost feel like I'm losing my edge. I have eliminated over 90% of my bad habits. I've stopped engaging in self-destructive activities, I've stopped engaging negative people and places in my daily routine.
So let's see.
Wake up before dawn. Check.
Stretch. Check.
Review to do list for the day. Check.
Update the do list for the week. Check.
Go out and complete the list. Check.
Compile tomorrow's list. Check.
Watch TVB. Check.
Go to bed. Check.
Wake up before dawn....
Holy crap! It looks as if I have altered the time line. Apparently I've become a 70 year old man. It seems like I'm two bottles of ensure and a pair of depends and a little chest pain away from Shady Acres retirement home.
This hiatus from the hooha and rabble rousing may end tomorrow or drag on for a few decades, but for now it is definitely a welcome change of pace. It's nice to not want to kick people in the head or rip parking meters off of poles.
When this humdrum gets old there will be; lions, tigers and bears rivers of scotch, plenty of white sand, blue sky, spinning turbines and lots and lots of glitter.
Until then, just watch the sunrise.
Recently however I find myself waking up right before the sun comes up. That's one alarm clock that's a little more difficult to turn off. I suppose I could get automatic blackout shades on a timer, but that wouldn't be any fun. Unfortunately the sun comes up at about 5:20am which leaves me with even more time to wonder and ponder about things that don't really matter.
Where is this other cuff link? Why can't people see themselves? If you could relive the last 10 years, what would you change? What would happen to the time line? Would you have to kill your past self in order to take your own place? If you did that wouldn't you die too?
For better or worse the space time continuum will have to take care of itself for now. There are far more pressing matters on the agenda today. There are deals to be made, chops to be busted, shit to shoot and rules to be bent. I used to think that sleep was a necessity right up there with food and water. But maybe sleep is more like fried chicken. Its awfully good, but we could all do with a little less of it.
Ironically I'm getting pretty sleepy as I write this or did the previous analogy make me hungry? At this time of day, I'm relatively content. The world has yet to infuriate me with its inane prattle and petty nonsense. While that may be good for my blood pressure levels, it makes for some rather dull writing.
If calm=dull then anger=excitement? Help me out here you law jockeys.
For nearly a month now I've found myself extremely mellow. I almost feel like I'm losing my edge. I have eliminated over 90% of my bad habits. I've stopped engaging in self-destructive activities, I've stopped engaging negative people and places in my daily routine.
So let's see.
Wake up before dawn. Check.
Stretch. Check.
Review to do list for the day. Check.
Update the do list for the week. Check.
Go out and complete the list. Check.
Compile tomorrow's list. Check.
Watch TVB. Check.
Go to bed. Check.
Wake up before dawn....
Holy crap! It looks as if I have altered the time line. Apparently I've become a 70 year old man. It seems like I'm two bottles of ensure and a pair of depends and a little chest pain away from Shady Acres retirement home.
This hiatus from the hooha and rabble rousing may end tomorrow or drag on for a few decades, but for now it is definitely a welcome change of pace. It's nice to not want to kick people in the head or rip parking meters off of poles.
When this humdrum gets old there will be; lions, tigers and bears rivers of scotch, plenty of white sand, blue sky, spinning turbines and lots and lots of glitter.
Until then, just watch the sunrise.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Soul for sale
A very wise person sat me down today and told me that I had become a shell of my former self. In my unrelenting pursuit of personal growth I had ruthlessly stripped away my humanity. All I ever talk about anymore is real estate and poker. Under the guise of efficiency and dedication I had effectively become a one dimensional cliche; card playing, scotch swilling, snide commenting, broker-whore. Unfortunately she was absolutely right.
It takes a ton of nerve and a lot more compassion to put me in my place. Most people wouldn't take the time to steel themselves against the scathing tirades that rally in defense of my staunch self-denial. But she managed to hold a mirror up to my face long enough for me to see what I had wholeheartedly become of my own free will; a moderately successful underachiever on a one way track to becoming a lonely embittered old man who mutters to himself in the park.
The irony lies in the catalyst that set me upon this path about a decade or so ago. During college I learned that the secret to life was to enjoy it. What was most enjoyable at the time? Getting paid and getting laid. As the years wore on, an increasing amount of my actions were geared towards achieving those two very noble goals. Somewhere along the way I also learned that it is better to focus your energy on a single task; so nowadays the only thing that matters is getting paid.
Who doesn't like getting paid? All of history's greatest triumphs and darkest tragedies revolve around people trying to get paid. Ideally we would all get paid to do whatever our passions demand of us. Unfortunately there is only so much demand for Ninjas, cowboys, relationship advice columnists and princesses. To exacerbate the matter there are very few children who dream of becoming assembly line workers, dishwashers, disgruntled store managers and pamphlet distributors.
However us ever resourceful humans have devised countless methods of helping people bridge the mental and emotional gap between passion and profession, namely alcohol. Think back to the very first time that you did what you had to do instead of what you loved to do. The first time you did your homework instead of playing outside, the first time you took a summer job so you could go on a crazy spring break, the first time you put away your guitar and put on a tie, the first time you went home with the person you saw after the 10th shot instead of the one you were checking out in the coffee shop, the first time you worked a double so you could save for that down payment, the first time you bought sensible shoes instead of the ones that made your feet look like a Qing dynasty beauty but the rest of you look great, the first time you drove a minivan instead of a convertible.
The examples are endless, but we compromise our ideals for the sake of necessity we trade a little bit of our souls for some measure of solace. Solace in the fact that one day all of these little trades will pay off in a big way. Unfortunately for the vast majority of us we trade one too many pieces of our soul's true ambitions and we end up with an unrecognizable mess of half-baked plans; dead-end jobs, loveless marriages, spiteful kids, massive debt, and a massive void inside us that no amount of illicit affairs, shiny cars, oceanfront villas and fat bank accounts could ever hope to fill.
Talk about going off on a tangent.
Why did I suddenly discover that the secret to life was simply enjoying it?
I used to have much loftier goals. I wanted to save the planet, captain a starship, rid the world of greed, become a kung fu master and prosecute criminals to the fullest extent of the law. But after witnessing how much corruption, hypocrisy and self-serving duplicity is ingrained into so many people, I quite simply gave up. I lost my will to fight the good fight and instead focused all of my abilities on obtaining the most meaningless and transient things possible. So I find myself on a hedonic treadmill where nothing I earn is ever enough to quench my wants because of a deeply rooted self-loathing which stems from having surrendered to my baser instincts.
Where does this leave me?
I have a lot more writing to do. In her valiant attempt to salvage the remnants of my soul she suggested that I find something that I still enjoy doing outside of real estate and poker. Something that I can take pride in regardless of whether or not I actually make any money doing it. If in the course of pursuing said activity, I happen to make some money then I can try to turn it into a career I enjoy and then use it to achieve something and to make a positive contribution to some segment of society.
The first step was to create this blog. I have always enjoyed writing. Getting the words out of my head and onto paper or a screen is an extremely therapeutic pastime for me. Keeping all of these thoughts bottled up would have likely led to an psychotic breakdown.
For those who are reading my thoughts for the first time, welcome to the madhouse. I will transfer all of my old rants from Facebook in their entirety to this blog, so if you're bored at work and you want to have a couple of laughs, get a little angry and dip into the crazy then read through them. Just keep away from sharp objects and open windows.
For my veteran readers, thank you for taking the time to absorb what I have to say. Whether you take offense at this grammatically challenged raving loony asshole or take heart that there is a kindred spirit who shares in your frustrations, I hope that it at least makes you think. As long as we keep thinking there's a chance.
If I can be pulled back from the edge, anyone can.
It takes a ton of nerve and a lot more compassion to put me in my place. Most people wouldn't take the time to steel themselves against the scathing tirades that rally in defense of my staunch self-denial. But she managed to hold a mirror up to my face long enough for me to see what I had wholeheartedly become of my own free will; a moderately successful underachiever on a one way track to becoming a lonely embittered old man who mutters to himself in the park.
The irony lies in the catalyst that set me upon this path about a decade or so ago. During college I learned that the secret to life was to enjoy it. What was most enjoyable at the time? Getting paid and getting laid. As the years wore on, an increasing amount of my actions were geared towards achieving those two very noble goals. Somewhere along the way I also learned that it is better to focus your energy on a single task; so nowadays the only thing that matters is getting paid.
Who doesn't like getting paid? All of history's greatest triumphs and darkest tragedies revolve around people trying to get paid. Ideally we would all get paid to do whatever our passions demand of us. Unfortunately there is only so much demand for Ninjas, cowboys, relationship advice columnists and princesses. To exacerbate the matter there are very few children who dream of becoming assembly line workers, dishwashers, disgruntled store managers and pamphlet distributors.
However us ever resourceful humans have devised countless methods of helping people bridge the mental and emotional gap between passion and profession, namely alcohol. Think back to the very first time that you did what you had to do instead of what you loved to do. The first time you did your homework instead of playing outside, the first time you took a summer job so you could go on a crazy spring break, the first time you put away your guitar and put on a tie, the first time you went home with the person you saw after the 10th shot instead of the one you were checking out in the coffee shop, the first time you worked a double so you could save for that down payment, the first time you bought sensible shoes instead of the ones that made your feet look like a Qing dynasty beauty but the rest of you look great, the first time you drove a minivan instead of a convertible.
The examples are endless, but we compromise our ideals for the sake of necessity we trade a little bit of our souls for some measure of solace. Solace in the fact that one day all of these little trades will pay off in a big way. Unfortunately for the vast majority of us we trade one too many pieces of our soul's true ambitions and we end up with an unrecognizable mess of half-baked plans; dead-end jobs, loveless marriages, spiteful kids, massive debt, and a massive void inside us that no amount of illicit affairs, shiny cars, oceanfront villas and fat bank accounts could ever hope to fill.
Talk about going off on a tangent.
Why did I suddenly discover that the secret to life was simply enjoying it?
I used to have much loftier goals. I wanted to save the planet, captain a starship, rid the world of greed, become a kung fu master and prosecute criminals to the fullest extent of the law. But after witnessing how much corruption, hypocrisy and self-serving duplicity is ingrained into so many people, I quite simply gave up. I lost my will to fight the good fight and instead focused all of my abilities on obtaining the most meaningless and transient things possible. So I find myself on a hedonic treadmill where nothing I earn is ever enough to quench my wants because of a deeply rooted self-loathing which stems from having surrendered to my baser instincts.
Where does this leave me?
I have a lot more writing to do. In her valiant attempt to salvage the remnants of my soul she suggested that I find something that I still enjoy doing outside of real estate and poker. Something that I can take pride in regardless of whether or not I actually make any money doing it. If in the course of pursuing said activity, I happen to make some money then I can try to turn it into a career I enjoy and then use it to achieve something and to make a positive contribution to some segment of society.
The first step was to create this blog. I have always enjoyed writing. Getting the words out of my head and onto paper or a screen is an extremely therapeutic pastime for me. Keeping all of these thoughts bottled up would have likely led to an psychotic breakdown.
For those who are reading my thoughts for the first time, welcome to the madhouse. I will transfer all of my old rants from Facebook in their entirety to this blog, so if you're bored at work and you want to have a couple of laughs, get a little angry and dip into the crazy then read through them. Just keep away from sharp objects and open windows.
For my veteran readers, thank you for taking the time to absorb what I have to say. Whether you take offense at this grammatically challenged raving loony asshole or take heart that there is a kindred spirit who shares in your frustrations, I hope that it at least makes you think. As long as we keep thinking there's a chance.
If I can be pulled back from the edge, anyone can.
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