Posts Tagged ‘excess

25
Jan
25

I’m Becoming a Pizza Whore

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I used to think pizza was special. Back when the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles made it a cartoon fantasy, I was craving so many kinds of pizza. But, decades later, my family has become overly dependent upon cheap frozen pizza. And, after eating my own share, I feel like I’ve lost some of the love. I miss the really good sauce from Little Caesar’s before they became a security risk and found a way to cut corners. I miss quality toppings. I miss sinking my teeth into a nice, thick, hot slice of goodness. Now, all I seem to get when I’m with family is dry red cheese bread. Meh.

I fear I’m becoming a cheap pizza whore.  Which brings me to a crucial life decision or outlook. I need someone to provide me with the sauciest, cheesiest, most delicious pizza they can find or make, to stoke the old fire of my love.

As I write this, I think of my encounters with prostitutes. Yes; I’ve met a few but never paid/hired one. They make a business of selling time as companions and, often enough, casual, contract-ed sex. It cheapens what should be a loving embrace, turns it into a membership at some lewd gym. But, prostitutes can still fall in love and eventually escape their “day jobs.” [It’s not just the fictional stuff of “Pretty Woman.”] And, they can fall out of love only to be drawn back into the “business.”

I need that story, that rejuvenation of the senses, for me to love pizza, again. Until then, I’m a cheap, crusty whore.

SO, I was inspired to craft this image. Enjoy.

20
Dec
24

Life Is a Crime, Dec. 2024 edition

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Get ready for another one of my potential philosophical breakthroughs.

Life…is a crime.

[Actually, I’m pretty sure this isn’t a new statement…and that I’ve touched on this, before. I have a comic-strip panel, which I like to reuse, to prove it.]

Well, it must be…

…considering…

There are SO many crime stories filling the space and time of our lives. If it’s not a crime report on the local news, there’s one of a dozen “new” shows featuring some cop squad or policing-government-organization-with-an-acronym-for-the-title. And, if the new material–cough–isn’t enough, there are plenty of channels showing streams upon floods of the shows that already ran, caught the crooks and bailed.

Any recent/current show that isn’t crime-related seems to last maybe eight episodes before it’s thrust into reruns or a seasonal “finale,” already; that’s pathetic. Crime shows never stop running. Apparently, there is an ocean of material to pump, but how many ways can you cover the same damn crimes? There are only so many types of wrong. You either assault someone, murder them, abduct someone or try to take someone’s money/property. And, there are only so many ways to pursue those cases. You could cover them all in one season of one show. But, there is so much time to fill for all the writers suffering from mental block!

What never makes sense to me is how anyone draws entertainment or pleasure from all of that. You find enjoyment in (others) solving or resolving crime? Then get out there and DO that! Maybe we’d have “cleaner” lives if we put a stop to or just didn’t commit those crimes. Are we “safe” by filling our time watching others commit and resolve crimes? Does televised crime make the world more peaceful?

I suspect people desperately need to fill their heads with solutions to problems. In school, I recall wishing I had a “cheat code” to get through my classes, some days. And, there were some out there, if you could get your hands on them. I guess, as adults, we need other means to convince our aging heads that problems can be solved; so we turn to these crime shows, in which someone else solves the problems. Yet, must every problem smell alike? Must every crime involve violence and, often, death?

Does seeing someone catch a murderer help you figure out a financial struggle? It doesn’t help me, at all. If I am struggling with a History assignment, seeing someone find a solution to a Math problem isn’t going to make my struggle any easier.

I consider myself a Sherlock-Holmes fan, but I can only stomach so much of his antics before I need a break. I don’t need to watch him every day or week (although I did get a little hooked on a silly animated version). I certainly do not need to see Sherlock Hawaii, Denver and L.A. Nights. That’s overkill. Don’t even get me started on how many versions of Scooby-Doo, a show about a big dog and some oddly dressed young adults running around with costumed crooks, there have been. ‘Longest running animated series; I wonder why.

Advertisers, particularly those featured on talk shows, which are multiplying like gremlins, like to tell you how some bargain, dropping an inflated retail price to something more sensible for a cheaply made import that’s only a passing-fad item, anyway, is a steal. That’s just asking for crime.

Every Christmas season, the Grinch gets promoted or discussed in some way. His whole story is about stealing the goods. His only competition for most referenced holiday character might be Scrooge, from A Christmas Carol, and the latter was criminal for how he treated others until he was given a forced sentence of spiritual intervention.

If what they say about government is true, we’re practically ruled by a faulty system.

Heck, even the wild creatures around us are prone to stealing from each other.

So, when you’re done with all of that, how do you have any time or breath left to live a respectable life? Can you? I’d say the ultimate test of this life is remaining “straight.” But, you’d have to be a saint above many other saints to pull that off…and is it worth it? Heaven knows.

I’m gonna get a lil dark for a moment. Maybe…people who end their own life are just trying to go on the lam or get out of jail (free). Ya think? Maybe it’s the only way to escape all the criminal madness. If this world is a prison, how do you get out? If everyone around you is potentially criminal, how can you be anything but crooked?

Now, if anyone takes what I just said seriously and ends their own life, you can consider me guilty of giving you the idea. Cuff me and throw away the key. But, I already feel like I’m wearing striped pajamas. So, what would that really do?

I’m just one, among the many, living a day in the life of some Russian prisoner who survived by fashioning a scrap of metal into a pocket knife so he could ration his bread and fish-bone soup when he wasn’t cleaning floors and dodging scuffles with his fellow inmates. [If you know the book, you get the reference. And, if you don’t, well you just didn’t go to the same criminal high school.]

 

 

18
May
23

We Have the Technology…

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We have the technology. We can make it better, stronger, faster…

You’ve likely heard this, before. [If you ever watched the Six-Million Dollar Man, you know it.]

There is quite a buzz about technology, lately, as if we’ve kicked into some sort of industrial revolution, again. Talk of AI and 3-D printing is all the rage. But, there is discontent among the buzz. And, that’s got me thinking….

We’re putting quite a lot of time and money (and other resources, I’m sure) into this fabricating technology when we are lacking in areas that better serve the planet and our own species.

At least, I’m seeing less improvement in the world from the latest technology and too much novelty.

I see countless videos and other displays of toys and kits (toys to assemble) made with 3-D printing.

We don’t need another robotic pet that’s just a bit smarter than the last one we foolishly purchased for the grandkid. We don’t need an elaborate printer to make jointed dragons in every color of the rainbow just to drape them on boxes of wasn’t-that-cool-last-week. And, we don’t need computers or androids to pose as humans unless we’re rich and desperate for a realistic sex partner.

Isn’t that what this is all about? Someone must be trying to simulate a partner, and all other people who participate in the production line get to play around with less-than-ideal machinery to produce all sorts of unnecessary stuff that just piles up in landfills like all the stuff we thought we could recycle infinitely.

Well, there’s also that eerie possibility that someone wants to preserve the capacity of their brain in some computerized form, as if the thing will update itself infinitely and never become obsolete. That’s a scary thought outside the range I’d prefer to think. ‘Way too many creepy stories about that sort of thing.

It makes sense…in a really crappy way. The concept of marriage has become skewed and highly flawed. No one seems to maintain one unless they’re just that damn lucky with love to find the one in however many are on the planet…or they just are die-hard workers who will put up with anything and go down trying.

Yet, the rest of it, the handing down machinery to tinker with excessive novelty…that’s dumb and wasteful.

But, that’s the going trend. Isn’t it? What you see going around as something relatively inexpensive to make and play with for a minute…is just a mask, a street market for what’s really getting focus in a more elite environment.

So, we risk adding to the planet’s garbage heaps to offset expenses seemingly required to achieve some singular goal for an elite group or individual.

Couldn’t we be using this same level, this same quality of technology in a more productive way all could appreciate?

Surely, but then the elite wouldn’t be so elite…would they? I mean…what makes some more special than others if they don’t leave some trash for the human trash to collect?

Once upon a time, a calculator was considered cheating in math class. And, “cliff notes” were the way countless students got through writing countless term papers and book reports. It’s cheating.

Now, they’re putting out “bots” that can write a poem and other documents for you just by giving them a suggestion. Morning talk-show hosts applaud the technology for writing up grocery lists and such for them…as if they actually go grocery shopping. I bet they have someone do that for them, too. So, they’re just shifting from a real person being hired and paid to do something…to speaking with a “drone” service for the same task.

You know why teachers shunned calculators? Because they want us to use our brains, not hand over functions to a machine. Using your brain doesn’t kill you. But, not using your brain will surely leave you dumb, useless and helpless. When you don’t use your brain, you become careless and short-sighted. You do less, and less probably matters to you.

In a strange way, thinking less DOES push us back to being completely witless bodies of flesh and bone who wouldn’t have the sense to listen to a god when they tell us to stay away from a particular apple tree. But, are we really working our way back to Eden?…just to make the same dumb mistake because we no longer know better?

Couldn’t we use this drive for AI to create intelligent simulations, rather than machines that think for you and take over your life?

I think of all the video games I’ve played over the decades…yes, decades. And, no matter how much a game boasts its graphics and AI, there never seems to be enough real environment and interaction. The latest Pokémon games are amazing to me, being able to run through a nature-ish setting with “wild” creatures roaming about the land. But, even those games seem odd and disappointing when you close enough to the creatures. And, interactive (human) characters are too often limited to a line or two of dialogue and some annoying, repetitive body motion.

Yet…they offer inspiration.

I see games like the old Final Fight series in which background characters are not just blobs or GIF-worthy animations but figures that respond to sound, proximity (approaching them) and/or touch. And, you can move around them to see them from other angles. I see these games taking place in buildings once designated for such lousy games as paintball and laser tag. Imagine going through multiple rooms and interacting with both helpful assistant-type characters and potential opponents you then choose to fight or flee. [What I don’t see is the admission fees and maintenance for such productions…and I’d rather not think much about that. Yet, someone has to do the thinking and maintenance, right? I don’t think I want to hand those tasks to the machines themselves and expect what is considered human decency to prevail.]

I see museums in which, instead of finding lifeless statues and bodies treated like horror-movie victims in (sick) displays, we encounter life-size holographic simulations of animals, including humans, in simulated nature settings. We get to walk among elephants in Africa and tigers in Java, and they don’t just repeat the same three steps or make a sound every five seconds. We can hang out with some native tribe in their village/camp and sit around a campfire or share in a tribal dance.

I wouldn’t mind seeing doctors like the one on Star Trek Voyager…even if he could be a bit annoying, at times. I wouldn’t want a hologram as a “primary doctor,” simply because I don’t think I could fully trust such a thing to handle every task and still make me feel comfortable as a human being; but an assistant might be helpful to the primary. But, even a technological wonder like that (or Data) would lack something.

There’s also a little factor/detail so many seem to miss. While humans seem quite capable of producing anything they can imagine, we don’t seem to produce what we imagine in the time we imagine it. So, what we get, instead, in the time we are alive, is a sad, disappointing substitute. Wouldn’t you agree? So many of us get grand visions. And, there will be others who latch onto the visionaries and prod them to produce those visions. But, it seems to take several foolish attempts before one person’s great invention comes close to being as good as it can get. And, by then, the original thinker–without confirming they were the first to think of it–is dead.

That sends me back to thinking about those Pokémon video games. When you play a Pokémon game, you may be told you can befriend the creatures as pets, but you will have to force some of those pets to fight other creatures if you want to progress through the game. [I’ve been trying really hard not to fight in Pokémon Legends: Arceus.] I certainly don’t enjoy pitting my pets against other beings in battle for the sake of progress. But, that’s the nature of those games.

What if, in our effort to design something good for all, we pitch something misguided and corrupting which saps the relationships we want/should create with the other beings in our world (our universe)? How many mistakes must we make before we learn?

Sadly, I don’t think we’re learning much of anything. And, the more we think we can hand that task over to a machine, a machine WE have to first build, we’re just speeding up the excavation of our own graves and threatening countless other lives in the process.

30
Nov
22

Being Over- Is Wealth and Potential

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I was just watching an episode of The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon, and I heard Jerry Seinfeld say he’s always over-thinking things (before he said Jimmy was the sort of guy who’s always positive, in so many words). And, it sent my mind spiraling down a rabbit hole of introspection.

I hear that term so often…over-thinking. I do think quite a bit. I do analyze, question, theorize, suspect and…too often, unwillingly criticize (and do not enjoy it nor what comes as consequence). But, I refuse to submit to the finger-pointing and judgment that likes to think “over-” is a bad thing…because, if you look hard enough, I am sure we are all over-something.

[But, let it be known, my over-thinking is a by-product of perpetually being under-something, as well, at the same time. I am under-fed in terms of social interaction and general good luck. As much as I like to think I’m a good guy, my misfortunes send me reeling, withdrawing into a quiet place where only my thoughts can sustain me. So, yeah; I invest most of my energy in thought. And, for those who benefit from that thought, you should be/feel welcome. It’s my gift to you. Respect it. Don’t abuse or mistreat it. It’s not a party trick or stage show for your amusement and critique. I’m not your entertainer, your butler/maid or ATM of therapy.]

Over- is another way of saying wealth…isn’t it? And, it’s also, likely, a synonym for potential.

If you need a good example of how the above equation works, look at the most common understanding of wealth, money. When you have a lot of money, you’re rich. What is money? Money is potential energy/fuel/resource to acquire/buy/spend or employ (others) to achieve some desired goal. It’s not food but it can get someone to make/bring you food, sometimes. It’s not water or anything that can cleanse your being. It’s potential energy.

But, how often do people say…

“You’re over-rich.”

or

“You’re over-earning.”

I don’t think those words have ever been uttered or written…until just now. [Yaaay. I’m a first. Woo.] Or, was something rather similar used in A Christmas Carol? About Scrooge? I’m not sure. Someone look into that for me. 😛

If you sat five people together and compared wealth of hair, unless they were all balding, you might become aware of how one of the five is envied more than the others for that person’s wealth. They have the most hair…maybe too much hair. It’s not too much hair. It’s just MORE than YOU have.

Do you look at a tree, which produces an abundance of seed and leaves, or a dandelion, which turns gray and casts its seed out into the air, where it annoys anyone with allergies…and say, “Hey, plant! You’re over-seeding!” [Do you even notice your neighboring trees and flowers, if you’re not already so consumed by your buzzing, radiating technology and vain affairs?]

And, what about the pine trees that drop sooo many needles which burn the grass under their branches, leaving reddish-brown barren soil. Do you suspect the grass ever kicks up a fuss and says, “Yo, pine-face! You’re over-shedding! You really burn me up!”

The trees have a wealth of something. And, what they produce isn’t always appreciated. Who really enjoys raking leaves or cleaning out gutters clogged with what trees produce?

Yet, it doesn’t stop us from planting and favoring trees for their aesthetic beauty or, if you have any common ecological sense, the clean air and atmosphere they help produce. You wouldn’t even be walking the planet, right now, if there weren’t, at least, enough plants to hold it together and stimulate an atmosphere worth breathing. And, anyone who uses wood or other plant materials in their crafting (or home construction) would be crawling on their knees and turning to shady, unnatural plastic or metal crafting if they didn’t have the blessing of trees, those otherwise obnoxious overly spawning obstacles of fauna. You’d be mining your planet dry until the ground crumbled underfoot.

But, if you have a small-minded outlook, an impoverished, negative outlook, you might be annoyed by the trees and flowers. I know I hate allergy season and can get quite angry at the plants when they turn on me, when they get in my way of enjoying life. Yet, that’s life for them. That’s their nature. They are what they are and produce what they do. Is that so wrong? Or, are they just getting in *my* way?

Wealth isn’t necessarily bad. But, if you lack the same wealth, you may become annoyed/agitated. And, if you have to be around someone or something producing a wealth/abundance of something, it might crowd/suffocate you. It might dwarf you and make you feel endangered.

——-

Truth be told…if one person/being holds all of something and doesn’t apply/spread it, somehow, it would be a devastating monopoly of that resource. So, there is a point where wealth IS too much…when it looks more like greed or insatiable hunger. But, that wealthy being won’t realize the mistake until it’s too late…until life ceases around them and they have to flee in search of other shelter (on another planet, perhaps).

And, as I said of myself, if I am over-thinking, it’s a by-product of lacking something else. It’s an imbalance, in a way. But, until I can find that better balance, I have that wealth of thought…which isn’t necessarily bad.

An apple tree can have a surplus of fruit and fall over from the weight. A buxom beauty can feel slowed down by her wealth of breasts. You can relieve the apple tree by picking some apples and putting them to good use. And, I suppose, you could perform surgery on the buxom beauty to lighten her load…but, personally, that seems like a crime of nature to me. [Yet, why would any higher power give a woman more bosom than she can carry? And, what is she supposed to do with that wealth?]

I don’t hoard my thoughts. I share them, frequently. And, too often, they are not appreciated in a way that reassures me.

Just as having a wealth of money isn’t necessarily bad…if you eventually put it to good use. A big vault of money is just a waste of space. And, the most generous person who is able to throw money around isn’t really helping the world, either, because it’s only fueling that term “economy” which was designed to create some kind of order, putting out the desire to riot and rebel against authority…even though money still does just that; it’s always a matter of distress and potential rioting. So, in a way, all monetary wealth is an illusion and waste of resources…which is why you see so much buzz about virtual/digital currency, versus paper and coin. But, is that really going to solve the problem of quarrels over monetary excess/wealth and poverty?  No.

I could spend another hour or more and pages of space on how those with wealth are prodded to give, to be charitable, to spread the wealth, to market themselves, etc. But, I won’t.

——–

The same can be said of anyone who is wealthy, or abundant, in something. And, though they are wealthy, that doesn’t mean you have to be annoyed by them…but we are. Why is that?

It’s that ancient seed someone planted that stirs the pot of the “haves” and “have-nots.” It’s the seed of strife and conflict, never satisfied…because, if that seed ever fully blossomed, the world would probably self-destruct from the *wealth* (or surplus) of want. The world would claw itself apart until nothing but crumbs were left. The evil weed would have succeeded in eliminating all viable soil. Nothing more would grow. The planet and all of its assets would cease to exist.

If you’ve ever heard an old line about money being a root of evil and/or idle hands being evil’s plaything, is it possible that’s just a variation of that itch that comes from the “have-not” weed? Is it possible all of human distress comes from some big, menacing pot of gossip regarding what one has and one does not?

…Wait. Look at what I just said. What one has and one does not. The latter part…what one does not. If you do not, you’re not doing (something). When you’re not doing something, you’re idle. When a car idles, it’s not going anywhere and may be losing fuel/resources if the lights are on or the engine’s running. But, if that car is lit and/or running, it still has resources and the potential to do something. Is that bad? Or, should every car always be driving to the limit every second of its existence?

If every car was on a road driving itself dry, what would you say?

That’s a lot of noise, pollution and traffic. Right? You’re sure to find yourself in a sea of vehicles. It’s too much. Well, at least, it’s more than the rest of the world has…the part of the world that isn’t overrun with vehicles and their mad drivers.

If you’re not doing something, some would say you’re wasting time. Others would say you must have a wealth of free time. They envy you because they use their time some other way and feel, in some way, distressed by their lifestyle, by their choices.

Those without may be over-something, as well.

If you worry too much, you exhaust your stamina and go hungry…or hangry. [But, worry is a form of thought…so that might fall into the wealth of thought and may be cautious thinking others just don’t appreciate/understand. Still, you need to stay hydrated and fed (when you’re worrying).]

If you work too much, you could do the same or seriously injure/cripple yourself. [Okay. Now, there’s one instance when over isn’t wealth. You cannot have a wealth of labor if it results in disability and/or lingering misery. So, what do you call that (then)? Or, is that a wealth of labor which isn’t properly distributed/applied? Is that misused labor? You could say over-working someone is giving one person too much work; the workload needs to be distributed among more workers/helpers. Similarly, you cannot be a lucrative producer of merchandise with just one customer, even if that person is the only person on the planet with all of the money. What kind of business is that, if only one person on the whole planet steps forward to buy something? And, what stops that one person from taking over your business so they don’t have to spend any money? But, you might suddenly say you no longer feel like producing anything–in the face of such an overwhelming financial force–and leave that customer wanting, oblivious to the influence, the power of their own wealth.]

[And, breathe…]

So, you see, all of you who have ever been told you’re over-something. You’re not a bad person. You’re not over-anything. You’re just more than the person or people near you, like that pine (or EVER-GREEN) tree burning the soil at its root with its own “sweat.” You’re just wealthy (and sweaty). And, aren’t you lucky. We all are…somehow, I’m sure.

‘Too bad we can’t all accept and work together with that. Blame the weed. Just think of what we could accomplish if we didn’t waste so much time and energy pointing fingers at everyone’s wealth with an unpleasant taste in our mouths, with acid or venom on our tongues.

———-

If you encounter someone who is over-something or has a wealth/surplus, don’t just point a finger or complain. Find a way to balance that individual. Prop up that overloaded fruit tree so it can continue feeding us all. Give that buxom beauty a better undergarment to support her figure so she can move comfortably. Help that “scrooge” put his or her money to good use. [I said good use. Not good-for-you-alone use.] Let’s balance our world and spend less on “over-time.”

If you find me over-thinking, what can you do to help put my thoughts to good use, to make me feel more productive and full of purpose? How can you balance my “excess” of thought and “lack” of productivity? I can tell you, right now, you’re barking up the wrong tree if you only tell me what I’m not doing, talk about selling myself or yank me out of my comfort zone without adequate support/reassurance. But, if you come forward and see how your ideas can mesh with my ideas and produce something we both approve, you’re the stuff of legends, my friend.

14
Feb
22

Staging Super Bowl LVI in the Black

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I tell you this with nearly 100% certainty; Super Bowl LVI (56) was staged. Staged how you say? No, I am not referring to stages like the ones topped by those hip-hop “legends.” I mean staged as in the whole thing was a promotion and campaign for “Black Lives Matter” and the L.A. Rams. The Bengals were just guests in the arena, or, maybe, the lions in a three-ring circus. And, yet, this isn’t new. I think most of these big games are, somehow, staged and set in some team’s favor.

——————————————————–

By the way, the stages were cooler than the performances, in my opinion. The strongest component of the sampler, sadly, was Eminem, the only “white” guy in the group. His performance of that infamous song from his movie, 8 Mile, which I thought he had once said was part of an identity he was leaving behind, was perfectly paired with a rare opportunity for two football teams. In fact, that song might as well be a Super Bowl theme. But, I don’t think the parts about parenting and financial struggles are all that appropriate.

Not including Mary J. B., the other “talents” seemed ignorant and careless at a time when the world is being force-fed constant concern over a deadly virus. A club crowded with flaunting “hoes” and cloned men boxed together so tightly in an attempt to make a cool formation; not smart, right now. The desperation of wealthy extroverts is apparent…and apparently putting everyone at risk, making all those Jurassic Park and zombie apocalypse movies more of a reality; ‘spare no expense.

The lack of caution carried over into every interview before, during and after the game. Reporters standing very close to the players, staff, owners, whoever; it didn’t matter. No one cared; you’d think it was 1992 instead of 2022. The whole scene reminded me of the Heston classic, The Ten Commandments, when the naughty people partied and abused the most beautiful woman on holy ground. SOME people had masks but carried them on their chins; fewer folks actually had masks over their faces. If no one is reported sick in the following weeks, either a vaccine mandate worked (and everyone at the game got a temporary dose at just the right time, which seems miraculous and unlikely) or our fears are truly inflated and enflamed by television.

——————————————————–

When the Milwaukee Bucks won their recent basketball championship, they had an expensive “pad” already built at home, waiting to be put to good use. Had they lost the tournament, what would have happened to the posh estate? Oh, let’s not even dwell on the grim possibilities for the city…because they won! Right? It was in the bag! No. I think it was very secretly arranged…and staged. Oh, the wonders that mighty dollar can achieve…for a team that gave up its purple to look more green.

Now, the L.A. Rams host a Super Bowl in a newly furnished stadium, costing over five billion dollars…with the “man of the year,” Mr. Charity, on their team, given a spotlight…along with a few Hall-of-Fame legends who were the first black men to play football, also given a spotlight…and the families of those who no longer are able to play the sport, also given a spotlight…and a star defender seeking a coveted prize, given a spotlight and place on the team logo whenever NBC goes to commercial, while the Bengals flash images of their lean, rookie, WHITE quarterback…and you just try to tell me it wasn’t all staged. How could the Rams possibly lose? [But, if you saw some of the camera shots the Rams’ head coach received, you’d think he was rather nervous about losing…until it was in the bag.] It’s almost like the talk about China covering its back in the Winter Olympics by featuring the very people some voice concerns about sparing from further harm. If you doubt the Rams’ right to winning, just look at all of the money and perks put on the table for the world to respect. Throw in a few sad, abused animals seeking your monthly donation of twenty bucks, and the package would have been complete.

[Sadly, the team with the largest number of “black” players, during Black History Month, the Bengals, did not win…even after one dirty play that should have received a penalty. Well, I guess losing the game is a penalty. And, why is it every big game has to have that one dirty play that could spoil the whole victory? But, in this case, it didn’t spoil victory…for the team in the favored, heavily sponsored and recently furnished seat. Had the Bengals not made that foul play, could they have won? We’ll never know.]

Topping it all off, you get “the Rock,” Dwayne Johnson, to introduce the teams, wearing a shade of purple which looks closer to the Rams’ blue than the Bengals’ orange and giving greater emphasis in his voice when speaking of the former. [I detected the difference.] And, during the rather weak game which might as well have been played in a snowstorm (for the lack of points put on the board and the number of mishaps that occurred), we see both star quarterbacks fall to the ground, grabbing their “wounded” legs, making very painful faces…only to get back on their feet and play like pros a few minutes later. Hmm. What does that remind me of…oh…I know…WWE wrestling. Someone might as well have hit the quarterbacks with a “steel” chair. Puh-lease! Injured my foot. The only injured person was Odell B., Jr., who looked like he had been stripped of the right to play and his pride in favor of letting Kupp take all the glory…because…let’s be honest…the shaggy white guy got the job done in the end. Isn’t that just like Tom Brady and his pal “Gronk?” Oh, no, wait. It’s not; the Rams have Reggie White…I mean…Aaron Donald to praise, as well. Thank goodness it wasn’t just two white guys getting all of the credit…in a staged championship…where plenty of wealthy faces can be seen and share in the excess. No one can say an Aaron or a Donald failed to get the job done. [Is that going to rally Trump supporters?]

The best commercial–for Salesforce–was being aired days if not weeks before the Super Bowl; so I can’t include it in the lot of possible “hits” but give it credit…though I know nothing about Salesforce. And, the ad, as poetic as it is, doesn’t define the company, similar to most insurance commercials, in which we get an amusing scene but little to no content to justify an interest in investing in the companies. Plenty of good intentions but no clarity regarding how the company assures/provides them; I could just as easily say I am pro- every noble cause on the planet and then commit some scandalous crime with your financial contributions and labor, unseen, simply because I pleased you with my good intentions. Amusement does not equate personal security/safety.]

The Uber Don’t Eats ads made one thing rather clear. The company you trust to deliver good food today could easily send you something not good to eat tomorrow when they buy out some other company or dip their toes into other non-related businesses to boost profits (greed spawned from fading leadership/responsibility leaking opportunities to ambitious fiends). We need to be mindful of companies like Uber Eats and not just turn mild amusement into blind compliance and financial support. If we just laugh and use those “services,” we contribute to the next big monopoly to send people into space in rockets shaped like male genitals and replace human workers with robots until only a select few actually have the financial resources to enjoy life on this planet, while the rest crumble under the illusions of televised advertising and “fast” convenience.

I was surprised the Bengals even made it to the Super Bowl. How did that happen? Was that…arranged, too? Considering they were there in the year of the (Water) Tiger, in terms of Chinese astrology, how perfect would it have been for them to win the thing? But, as I’ve read about tiger years, you have to expect some shocking disappointments. And, this Super Bowl was one.

[And, the Bengals’ head coach? Don’t ever wear that black cap, again. That looked stupid. You could barely see the “B” because the whole thing was black! That’s not your team logo.]

Commentators; I’ll say it again; they suck. They predicted big things for the last game between the Green Bay Packers and San Francisco 49ers. But, they didn’t have a clue about snowy weather in the Midwest. Point predictions were WAY off. Now, being closer to their own homes, they simply predicted the Rams as the winners, no point spreads given (unless you count that confusing talk about betting pools and who got what square). Well, one chose to back the Bengals, but he looked like the sad, odd white loser in the group, anyway.

And, who needs someone pointing out statistics like the odds of winning a coin toss and losing the big game. Why do we bother watching if we predict the winner from the coin toss?! Who won the toss? Oh. Okay. Game over. Pay up. We don’t need to sit through all of this. Let’s go hit the club and spread germs, instead. I’d rather party with Charlize Theron and Jennifer Lopez.

I chose to back the Bengals for a number of reasons, one being I like tigers and thought it was cool how the quarterback came from a town called Athens (being I’m a fan of Greek mythology and, particularly, the goddess Athena who won a contest to claim rights to Athens, Greece). But, I guess, none of that matters in a contest of riches and racial exhibition. You’ll never see me sport a set of Rams horns (at least, not yellow and blue). You’ll beat them, next time, Bengals. Just don’t spoil my support.

25
Jan
19

Too Much Advertising Ruins Sales!

writingboltVStheworld_scottpilgrim-fastspace_apsample-1****

Is there such a thing as too much advertising? You betcha. And, lately, some advertisers are getting WAY too much exposure. Thanks, digital TV systems capable of skipping commercials, though it works better in some modes than others which makes little sense…but that’s human technology for ya.

The days of diverse commercial line-ups seem to have drifted into the crapper. Now, we get ads that reappear every seven minutes, and sometimes twice in a three-minute window, because no one else seems interested in advertising.

You might think this is a golden opportunity to get cheap advertising/air time. But, hold your corny sales pitches and lame “real people, not actors.” An excess of ads spoils business. At least, for me it does. It’s like those movies that feature some poor shlub handing out flyers only to get bumped and spill the fliers all over the city.

I do not respond well to repeating commercials. I really get annoyed by them. And, the dumber the commercial, the worse I respond.

So, the next time you feel like promoting yourself, make sure your ads are spaced out nicely. Or, you will end up on my grumbly list. And, you don’t want to end up there. Because I will proceed to bad-mouth your product or service to the point that I annoy the people I meet.

Ever heard of the domino effect? Tim-stop-the-madness-ber.

17
Dec
15

What Sells a Certain Sci-Fi Franchise?

*****

If I mention a certain series of sci-fi films that have literally canvassed the globe in heaps of stuff, you might get excited.  [Please, don’t wet yourself…or me.]  Or, you might complain how everyone else seems excited but you.  Some of you may be a little divided.  And, rightly so.  I am, too.

And, as another tide of the hype hits me from television media, I ask myself…what sells the movies?

1- Is it the story? 

What IS the story?  How much of a plot is there?  And, how much is just visual fluff and audio hypnosis?

If I give it serious thought, stripping away the sounds and light shows, I am not sure there is much of a story.  At least, it’s not very deep in detail.  I might have to put on reading glasses to find a plot.  It’s more like a slide show of a war in progress with some splashes of stopping to gab or clash with peers.  More “Hold onto your seat!” and “Great shot, kid!” than “We’re family?”

When a film ends, we think there was a story because it all flowed with the wash transition effects.  If there’s anything that confuses us, we dismiss it in favor of the colorful pictures imprinted in our retinas.  I know I walk away asking more questions than I have answers.  And, if the new director’s other notable TV project with a title of four letters says anything about his future projects, I can expect more of the same, becoming LOST in the fantasy imagery and flashes of emotion.

If there’s one grain of serious story in the films, it has to be the father-son relationship and the impact of genetics/evolution upon life.  There’s also the rise of good and bad powers in deceptive clothing and the occasional changing of sides.  So, there is some story…but it might be like chunks of cereal floating in a sea of milky spectacle and merchandise.  [More on the latter later.]

2- Is it the acting, the cast? 

Can I really say any actor stands out for a stellar performance?  Well, I can think of two actors in the films that stand out for me.  One hated how she was “forced” to look.  As a little green puppet would say, “Bad costumes lead to anger.  Anger leads to hatred.  Hatred leads to drunken and verbally explosive behavior laced with expletives.”

The other, a male secondary character/actor, has had more films with meatier parts and gone through some small changes over the decades.  In some ways, he should have been the lead.  But, not if it meant he had to be a whiny youth with all the luck…except for losing limbs and turning evil.  [“Stop whining, already!  Don’t make me turn this spaceship around, mister!  No one’s destroying an empire today with that attitude!”]   Then, I guess, being second billing isn’t all bad.  I might even prefer to be a chatty orange creature with big, flapping ears in Goofy clothing.  [That’s right.  That annoying chatterbox was a pre-Disney takeover Goofy wannabe.]

There are some serious creature haters out there.  Some question the use of little people in teddy bear costumes.  I call those audience assemblers.  The films broaden the audience base by changing the original conceptions for the story.  A slasher samurai story becomes a dazzling display of both serious and silly characters.  It’s a Muppet show!  Everyone can come…even if you are too young to process the heavy stuff.  Bring the family!  Buy more tickets!  Spend more on snacks to appease the restless ones!

3-Is it the music/sound effects? 

A very likely possibility.  There is definitely a sound buffet that dazzled ears when they first heard it.  Thank the orchestra and sound effect technicians.  There are iconic sounds that people will echo when the titles come to mind.  So, that much sticks with many if not most viewers.  You might pay twice to hear them, again.  [Or, you could seek the purchase of a soundtrack.]

4-Is it the visuals, the special effects and cinematography?

As I like to say, if you have the resources, anything is possible.  We’ve already highlighted the orchestra which could get pricey.  What does it cost to film on lavishly decorated sets, create countless models and mold goofy yet innovative costumes?  How much does a growing, glowing light sword cost?  Could someone with less or more money have done the same or better?

5-Is it the merchandising?

Well, you tell me.  How much of the “stuff” have you already bought?  How much do you enjoy it?  And, how much sits on a shelf, hoping to not get scratched, dinged or dusty?  I worry about those who feel the need to collect nearly everything if not everything ever made for a film.

There has been WAY too much merchandising for the latest installment.  I cannot express that enough.  It’s sick.  It does not bode well for the environment nor mental health.  What it DOES do well is guarantee more kids will have plenty and not go “starving” for what another kid has.  It spares envy and jealousy.  But, does every kid really need a stiff plastic replica of a guy supposed to be the most evil thing in the universe?…at least, until someone replaces him.

But, if merchandising blindsides the story, what sense is that?  If you care more about the stuff because you saw it displayed in a commercial window.  Look, I have the guy on the screen!  Are you really enjoying the stories/films or clinging to material things?  Shouldn’t the story sell itself?  Aren’t there other films you like as much that have no toys to go with them?  Aren’t you just as happy without the stuff?

So, even if merchandise boosts ticket sales, it seems excessive and misdirecting.  It smells like people trying to milk something for all it’s not even worth instead of being content with smiles for a good show.  I guess there’s nothing wrong with getting a sale while the selling is good…until I think of all the packaging and impulse/erroneous holiday shopping that leads to second-hand and dumpster madness.  When is enough enough?   And, what monstrous behavior are we encouraging with all this production?

[And, let me just say this.  It’s probably the merchandising that bothers me most of all.  It may be the reason I feel compelled to write such a post.  That and one empire swallowing another just to become more ridiculous.  The films write the story of their own demise.]

6-Is it the “hype?”

I think that’s obvious.  I like how an article I recently read puts it.  Empty interviews with people who have not even seen the film(s).  Let’s get the cast on camera as much as possible with people who have no clue to promote, package, sell it every way possible until all parties are puking swag and over-tired….until everyone looks at what should be a delight as just another job in which we augment our bodies to fit a part for someone’s amusement.

Who is amused?  Not those who make the films other than the few golden moments of fan appreciation that get washed away by financial dealings and the next project on a star’s radar.  How many actors actually see their own films…and like them?  “Thanks, everyone, but I need to focus on changing my body for the next role…I DO have another role coming up; don’t I?   Where’s my agent?  Don’t pigeonhole me.  Send money.”  How many ways or times can an actor be asked how a film “changed their lives” or “changed the world” with some bleached smile in their face?  How many B.S. answers must be given on camera to appease the masses that are driven by hype-mongers?

MOOOO-vies!  Get along, lil couch potatoes!  Yah!  Buy more stuff!  Throw it away and buy even more!  Yah!  Then, it’s onto the next one.  Yah!   So what if you have ten thousand little people in white suits of plastic armor, some missing limbs or burnt to a crisp because you felt you had the luxury to torture the excessive supply in your play room.  [That’s right.  I veered back toward merchandising.  Because it’s everywhere.]

So, in conclusion, yea, I will likely see the latest film.  But, I won’t fully enjoy it because I am so frustrated with the negative points.  I might have been a more loyal fan if the leads in the films didn’t annoy me so much and if there wasn’t such competition over the old stuff and excess of the new…which looks a lot like the old.  You can paint a soldier a dozen different ways.  But, he still smells the same.  New packaging, same product.  Still…well, you decide if its a winner or a loser.

May good conscience and judgement be with you.  With tremendous power comes tremendous concern for how one uses it.

[Damn it, Stan!  Why did you have to sell your empire off to Disney?   There.  I said it.]

 

28
Oct
15

U.S. Math Scores on the Decline, Again? I Know Why.

*****

No, let’s spend the next decade and millions of dollars on researching the problem instead of looking at the obvious.

Why would math scores (or any school subject grade) drop?  [And, this isn’t the first time I heard about it in the news.]

I can answer that rather simply.  Do your children possess a “pad” or “smart phone” with WiFi access?  Does the school they attend provide WiFi access, or is WiFi available through the school’s walls (from an outside source)?

Anyone who lived through school in the 1980s might recall what teachers used to say about a thing called a CALCULATOR.  They’d say we should put those things away and do the math on paper.  Why?  Because, otherwise, you learn nothing and let the machine do the work for you, whether it malfunctions or not.

Well, guess what people who may yet be clueless, your kids might be holding the new model of that calculator disguised as a whackadoodle telephone they are supposed to be carrying to “stay in touch” in case of an “emergency.”  Oh, this modern connected world with everything at the tip of a search engine’s grasp.

How I love those commercials of people talking to every sort of gizmo now programmed to talk back to you.  Let’s ask our talking toaster to answer all of our questions.  Yea, that will make us smarter.

NOT!

Wake up and smell the burning nuclear material in your hands, people, before the machines are using YOU for their batteries or footstools.  Use your head and put down the radioactive, talking toaster!

*****

14
Sep
15

Let the Force Rest!

*****

I am all for the Force awakening just to see more aliens and storm trooper variations (though the “clone troopers” bore me to tears).  But, can we cut back a bit on the merchandising?  Every time a Star Wars movie gets buzzing, a whooooole slew of new “swag” starts hitting store shelves and website…uh, cyber-shelves.  It’s insane.  It’s overwhelming.  It’s excessive.  It’s sick.

Just in case anyone is interested, I have some Star Wars toys I am willing/looking to part with.  So, feel free to buzz me if interested.

May the Force be with you to not invest in any new “swag” …except maybe a t-shirt, cap, one of those hoodies that zips over the face to make the helmet or a villain action figure…oh, and one of whatever the coolest new vehicle is.  Yea, get me….er…ehem.  I mean…do not be compelled by the Force to shop.  Use the Force to resist.  And, hope this new movie doesn’t suck like Jar Jar Binks and whiny teen Anakin.

*****

28
Jul
14

The Art of Excess

 

On a milestone birthday in the depths of space, a budding artist (with a face full of bubbling, molten craters) opened her eyes and marveled at the new tools provided by her parents. The intense, singeing light of her father and the softer, enchanting glow of her mother came together to wish their daughter well in pursuit of happy growth and enhancement. Vowing to make them proud, the young orb took a deep breath and went to work.

Her early efforts produced a multitude of lifeforms both stationary and mobile. The former consistently worshipped her parents while the latter were free to experiment, giving all who watched a source of amusement. Father and mother were indeed pleased. Their smiles burst with a brilliant energy which could be seen from galaxies away.
“Go on, my child!” said the father. “Create more! It gives your mother and I such joy to see you paint your surface with these colors! One day you shall be the crown jewel of our domain!”

So, the child continued to create and age. But, every now and then, her father and mother would drift apart, leaving her in the cold of deep space to wonder if what she created was still worthy of praise. In a fit of sadness and frustration, she struck herself with a large rock, hoping to free some promising ideas from her already cracked skull. Instead, it erased her vision temporarily, wiping a large portion of the art from her surface. When her parents returned, a new motif had taken over their daughter.

“What’s this?!” gasped the father. “Such a drastic change! What has made you tear down what you already made and replace it with something new?!”

“Father, each time I turned around, you and Mother left me alone,” said the young artist with a sigh. “I did not feel your warmth at my back. I thought you no longer approved of my work.”

“Look how they behave differently when I draw closer in your father’s absence,” said Mother with her cheeks aglow as she separated from her mate. “You honor us with your talents, daughter. Go on. Continue creating. You are just beginning to grow.”

Despite her concern and flickering confidence, the artist did as she was told. Nothing she made gave her the joy she had seen in her parents’ faces. Again and again, she changed her canvas while expending her vital energy (which, at the time of her youth, seemed infinite), each time hoping the next visit of her parents would be happier than the last.

When they did return for her birthday, she had yet another surprise waiting for them. Gazing upon the new creation, Father blew flames to the far reaches of space and withdrew. His color paled from an ardent red-orange to a weaker yellow. “What in the great cosmos are those?! And, what are they doing to each other?!”

Tilting her head ever so slightly, his daughter said, “I have not decided what to call them, yet, as they keep changing on me. I am leaning toward naming them Humanity. What do you think, Mother?”

Though her mate was dismayed, mildly cross and tempted to scorch the young artist’s hide, Mother, impressed with the new lifeforms (which could adapt themselves more readily than any other), showed enthusiasm. “They are certainly unique and interactive.” She paused to look away when one fierce band of the fleshy rebels destroyed another, leaving a gruesome stain on the daughter’s cheek. Refraining from preaching about cleanliness, Mother added, “Keep at it, my child. But, do not be so hasty to destroy what you have made. Let it mature with you. You continue to grow in wisdom though experience. Some day, you will shine as bright as your mother or–maybe–your father.”

With those encouraging words, the still youthful artist returned to her labors, working with her latest creation to “enhance” her appearance. [Meanwhile, her parents ventured off in mounting disagreement.] As the years rolled by, the ever-mutable clay of “Humanity” grew in quantity and violence, gradually wiping away portions of her previous work. Just when it seemed like the restless, pale and balding creatures might destroy themselves and everything remaining with them, a new crop would appear to start a revolution. But, the lifeless remnants of the previous batch never seemed to fully disappear. The cosmic strength to absorb injury and clear away the messes made diminished. Eventually, after several expansive conflicts, the bewildering competition amassed heaps of debris on the heavenly creator’s face.

At the dawn of her next birthday, her parents displayed looks of horror. Lakes of toxic sludge and smoking mountains of heavy filth nearly covered every inch of their daughter’s skin. They could barely see her worrisome expression and hear her trailing voice as she pleaded, “Father! Mother! Help me! I have lost control! I am falling apart from within! Help me!”

But, they could do nothing short of wiping her from the cosmos. Reflecting upon her own potentially misguided wisdom, Mother wept. Father slapped himself for being so hasty and persistent in the pursuit of pride. In search of other worlds to litter and ravage, some of the daughter’s tiny parasites ventured deep into space with the ships she provided. Following the errant paths of the wasteful machines over their shoulders, the parents retraced the eons of their previous attempts at raising children and wondered how their neighbors, the Andromeda family, fared so well. [What did they truly know about their neighbors? And, did they need to snoop?]

                                                                           *******

“Surprise!” cheered her parents, stirring the young artist from her slumber. The latter rubbed her eyes and followed the visual cues of the former along the curves of her weathered frame. Though she had found herself drowning in darkness and despair only a moment ago, she was now glowing with a renewed sense of peace and a vigor. Gone were the mounds of death and destruction. Those tiny pests she had created were now working together as one happy community, no longer fighting over materials or each other. And, the older forms once thought doomed to extinction were now given their fair share of space to live as Humanity did.

“Happy birthday, my daughter,” said Mother with an earnest smile. “Just look at you, now. So grown-up. So mature. And, to think, a few eons ago, you were ready to throw yourself into the black hole because of some hideous eruption on your face.”

Her father, showing his age with the faintest tint of red in his thinning cheeks and forehead, added, “You have never looked lovelier than you do today, my child. You honor us both. And, look, our neighbors have brought you presents.”

The woozy artist squinted over her parents’ shoulders to see the handful of colorful visitors in the distance, each with tiny surprises headed her way. Neglecting to mention the former identity of the rock chosen as a meeting place, Mother and Father cleared the asteroid field to welcome the guests. Everyone had such a joyous time at the birthday party…

…Except for one tiny solar-powered ship carrying a lone green explorer who steered clear of all the commotion. He didn’t dare venture closer to those he could not yet understand. Instead, he continued his journey through space, watching the universe drift by as he decided what to do with the rest of his life.

 

 

~Writingbolt, 7-26-2014




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