Having it all figured out...

Today, I realized that I'm happy I have things figured out well enough to know that I have nothing figured out. It's a good place to be.

“The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.”

Socrates

I'm going to start posting short posts more often. This is a step in that direction. Go me!

Trying to make the Daily Jason a little more... "daily"

Hey all (or none, perhaps),

I've been intending to write more in my blog, but I haven't been horribly motivated to do so. If you read my second blog entry, you know that time is, as always, what seems to bring me down (as I type, I get closer and closer to being late for work, for example). But time is, in essence, all we have. If not for this moment, what is there? I've heard people talk about killing time and I just think that is the most ludicrous thing in the world (apparently, existence of rap artist ludacris has made me forget how to spell "ludicrous." I figured it out eventually, though).

I think time needs to be resurrected--we need to breathe new life into these moments. If there is time that you feel needs killing, examine what is wrong with the situation to prevent you from appreciating the one thing you have (which is, essentially, that moment, because outside of the current moment, nothing exists). Examine what aspect of yourself is preventing you from enjoying your whole world, as it exists in that moment. Then change it.

I could probably quote the song Raise a Little Hell here, but as I said, time is of the essence so I'll get to the point of this entry. The next couple of entries will be short, sweet posts (sweeter than this one, even). So... look out for that.

And... now I'm late.

Who is Dave Coulier (AKA Joey Gladstone)?

Someone told me a couple of days ago that the album Jagged Little Pill by Alanis Morissette was mostly written about Dave Coulier, better known as Uncle Joey from Full House. It blew my mind just a little bit.

At first, I was amazed at someone so seemingly uninteresting and extremely unfunny could have such a remarkable impact on popular culture. He was on a TV show that's finale was viewed by 25% of TV watchers in America and he was the subject of the second-best selling album of the 1990s (the best-selling was Shania Twain's The Woman in Me).

But then I thought... maybe Dave Coulier isn't so bland. I mean, if he was even partially responsible for turning her from this: http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=ar7afdfBHj4
into this: http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=Tnbc64XQ1DI(and both him and Alanis have at least hinted that the latter song was about him), it's impossible that he is who we all think he is.

Some songs on Jagged Little Pill seem to describe the clean, unfunny Coulier of our childhood--for example, Head Over Feet ("I've never felt this healthy before//I've never wanted something rational") and All I Really Want ("Why are you so petrified of silence//Here can you handle this... did you think about your bills, your ex, your deadlines or when you think you're gonna die//or did you long for the next distraction").

But others, the obvious being You Outta Know but also, Wake Up (A more obscure track that features the lyrics, "There's an apprehensive, naked little trembling boy with his head in his hands") hint that Mr. Coulier was profoundly fucked up, or at least, in the context of his relationship with Alanis. The latter song is the one I find the most fascinating on that album, with respect to its new Coulieriness (Coo-lee-ey-ee-niss).

I suspect Wake Up wasn't as popular because of its specificity: The first line is "You like the snow but only if its warm." But, assuming it is, in fact, about Coulier (and the fact that it's so specific makes me think it is), it paints a pretty vivid portrait of a man who consistently takes the path of least resistance. Suddenly, I had Dave Coulier completely figured out.

If you want to be a comic, what is that path of least resistance? Family-friendly, "clean" comedy. If you're trying to make people laugh, what is the easiest way to do so? Impressions of already established characters like Elmer Fudd and ET. Even You Outta Know fits with this line of thinking: he left Alanis Morissette because she was... too fucked up. He went with somebody older, more mature. She thought he was going to save her--and maybe he did too, before he realized that it would be easier not to. That's why she resented him so much, and that's why I think Dave Coulier is the perfect metaphor for America.

To be continued...

Godless

Hey all,

For those of you who don't know, I work for a news channel called OMNI. I recently worked on a story about a group of students at the U of A who were offended by a particular line in the convocation ceremony: The line of offense has to do with using degrees for "the glory of God and the honour of your country." The group is the U of A Athiests and Agnostics Society.

It's causing quite a stir (http://www.canada.com/edmontonjournal/news/story.html?id=7fe9a730-a295-4cb5-b9f1-8b77251f5d02).

It really made me think about how immersed we are in the language of religion. I mean, when my mom picked a school for me, the options were either Catholic or Protestant. It doesn't matter that I'm not religious. It doesn't matter that I've been to church once in my life outside of weddings and funerals, or that when I went, I thought it was hollow and ritualistic. I'm still choosing between two, fairly similar Christian religions. Even the word "atheist" means without theistic belief. I'm not trying to be a contrarian; it just doesn't... feel right to me.

I don't disbelieve in a higher power necessarily... I just don't understand how people can claim to know the absolute truth about said higher power.

I guess most of all, I just don't get why I'm the alternative for not believing in a talking snake in a tree.

Pop Culture

For the longest time, I was trying to think of what I would write a book on if I had the chance. This was at a point where I considered the whole "writing" thing to have been a relative mistake and I needed to do something I cared about to reconnect me to the concept of wanting to be a professional writer. As I thought and thought, the only idea I could come up with is '90s Pop Culture(If you haven't noticed, I've made a stylistic decision to capitalize Pop Culture. That, in and of itself, is something you should think about a great deal)--specifically, '90s pop music.

Why the '90s? Why pop music? Well, two things: The first of which is that I recently realized that I remember more about some shitty song by the band VIP than I do most of (what I should probably consider) my best time with (who I should probably consider) my best friends. In a weird way, I care more about pop music than I do my own life.

Another thing I realized about the 1990s is that, in a very real way, it changed everything. Somehow, music seems noticeably less authentic. Some would blame that on me getting older and being more tainted because of it; I blame it, indirectly, on Milli Vanilli (and, of course, Milli Vanilli would undoubtedly blame it on some weather phenomenon). I think it speaks volumes that Milli Vanilli won the Best New Artist award in 1990.

This will be the first in a series of posts about '90s pop music and, if I feel like it, Pop Culture in general.

Some photos

My entire readership (of 2) has requested that I add more photography to this blog. So, by (not very) popular demand, here are a couple more shots from SE Asia. The first is of some kids at a hill tribe in Laos. All of the adults would leave to go work the rice fields. They would be gone literally the entire day and the kids would entertain themselves. Judging by their activity level when we were there(which you can see in the picture), they weren't horribly successful. I found it funny that the kids had complete freedom and they chose to sit on their front porch and stare at strangers.




The second is from a temple in Lopburi, Thailand, a city that was literally overrun by monkeys. There were monkeys everywhere--on signs, on cars and walking on power lines. It seemed like the majority of the monkeys stuck to this Buddhist temple. Some of them were quite aggressive towards humans; others were violent with other monkeys. Every November, the monks have a big festival where they provide the monkeys with a big feast. We didn't see the festival, but it's nice to know that somewhere in the world, people are living in relative harmony with animals--even tragically flawed ones.

I don't know that I'd ever become Buddhist, but I certainly appreciate the Buddhist respect for all living things. It seems like most people just see animals as either tools or obstacles.

M. Night SHAM-a-lan

I've come to really dislike the works of M. Night Shyamalan. And it isn't just because of his problems as a screenwriter (of which, he has a lot); it's because his work is disingenuous.

Almost all of his movies have a central theme of every person having an inherent worth (except critics, apparently) and everything happening for a reason (the obvious examples are Lady in the Water and Signs, but I could make arguments for The Sixth Sense (the kid is the only one who can make Bruce Willis realize he's dead; Bruce Willis is the only one who can help the kid), Unbreakable and The Happening).

The contradiction is that he doesn't value other people. Apparently the only person who can direct, produce, act in and write movies is, big surprise, M. Night Shyamalan. It doesn't matter that he doesn't know how people actually talk, or how to make a movie that isn't wholly dependent on some arbitrary twist; what matters is that it's his movie.

One character in the waste of time that was Ldy in the Water was a writer whose story was going to change the world. The actor? M. Night Shyamalan. He actually made himself the character whose story would change the world. I read something a while ago (which I can't find now) about how after the Sixth Sense, he wouldn't let anybody from the studio comment on his movies. He's essentially been moving from studio to studio until recently, when he started his own production company.

That's why his movies fall flat--because there is no truth to them. He does not feel the stories and, in turn, neither do you.

Art IS Exclusionary (but not in the way you think)

Hey all,

I'd like to preface this by saying that I haven't given up on The Daily Jason by any means; my internet has been causing me problems. I would've like to have prefaced that by professing my love for the word "preface," but I didn't, so here we are.

Ahem. The reason for this post is Prime Minister Stephen Harper--specifically something he said. Last week at a press conference, he made a comment about how "ordinary working people" essentially don't care about the arts (what he actually said was that they don't feel sympathy for artists, but the distinction is moot). What he was trying to connect, without saying it, is that the average person doesn't care about art because of the exclusivity of the arts community. I've heard this argument a lot and think it's utter bullshit. I find more people are exclusive towards the arts (like Harper is being) than the arts are exclusive to them.

Now I would argue that, for all intents and purposes, I am an "ordinary working person." I guess the fact that I went to college excludes me from actually being "ordinary" in Alberta, because as of 1999, only 50% of Albertans between 18 and 20 went into post-secondary* (the lowest in Canada) and significantly less graduated (and I would guess those numbers have dropped, given our current economy). But I was born and raised in Alberta and I know the people Mr. Harper would call "ordinary." Even more, I know why these people think art is exclusionary.

These people don't have an interest in the arts. They don't go to independent movies, art galleries or local theatre productions because they undoubtedly assume one of the following:
a) They won't like it
b) They won't get it
c) They will feel excluded because they don't know anything about it

In the first two cases, it seems pretty obvious to me that the "ordinary person" is the one being exclusionary--he/she not willing to try something different because of perceived boredom. In case two, you could probably argue for an intellectual exclusivity, and I will try to argue that in my blanket assessment of case three.

When I was writing my article on vegetarianism for the journal, Meatless in a Sea of Cattle, I interviewed the organizer of the Vegetarian Meetup group. She gave a quotation that I loved about a review of a vegetarian restaurant. “The author basically described the other patrons as overly pious and pretentious,” she says.
“I’m pretty sure the other diners didn’t get up to smugly declare to her that they, as vegetarians, were doing ‘the right thing.’ It’s all perception, I guess.”

I find most often when people talk about exclusion, it's almost invariably the perception of exclusion that they're actually talking about. Outside of school, I find most people are pretty accepting. And in terms of intellectual discourse, almost 100% of the time, people are too focused on what they are saying to really pay any attention to whatever stupid thing you might be saying. In other words, when people leave a social situation, they almost invariably replay their own part of the conversation. There are some art snobs out there, but unless you go talk to them, they probably have their snob friends to talk to. Which brings me to my next point: people tend not to talk to strangers.

How often is it that you're walking out of a movie (even an independent movie) and a complete stranger asks you what you thought? Or someone walks up to you and asks you what you think of a piece of art? I would wager that this is a fantastically rare occurrence, especially if you're with someone. If you actually wanted to see the art gallery/independent movie/play without talking to a single person, you could do it easily. That's why I say people exclude the arts; the arts don't exclude people.

Now you may notice a lot of my discussion revolves around hypotheticals. And that's because I rarely participate in the local arts scene. So what's the difference between me and the aforementioned "ordinary working person?" The difference I am aware that it is my exclusivity--not that of the arts scene--that keeps me away.

And I acknowledge that funding for the arts is important, because all art comes from amateur arts. Those junior musicians who get funding from the Alberta Foundation for the Arts will be one of my favourite bands some day; that writer who gets funding will write my favourite book. Without arts funding, those musicians would never be able to afford to be musicians for more than a couple of years. That writer would have sold his typewriter and gotten a job on the rigs.

I support the arts--at least theoretically. And I definitely support arts funding.

*http://www.statcan.ca/Daily/English/020123/d020123a.html

Hockey

I realized the other day that I like hockey, but I'm not a fan of any one hockey team.

I'm entertained by the sport, but I realize full-well that it has no real importance or relevance to my life. If I was to associate one team with me, I would be forcing some arbitrary importance onto them. It's sort of like choosing a horse at a horse race, but not having any money riding on it. Sure, it may seem to make the sport more entertaining, but I'm not going to be better off or any more fulfilled if my team wins and I'm especially not going to be any more fulfilled if my team loses.

I guess I just don't feel the need to associate emotions with 20-some players who I've never met before and make more in a year than I probably will in my life.

If you care to hear more of my thoughts, below is an essay that I wrote for my magazine class where I contrast hockey with soap operas. It's more of a rant than it is an essay, but it still has some moments. Enjoy!


Hockey and Soap Operas
I think it’s about time someone compared the two. They have more in common than one might think. The first and most obvious comparison (well, to me) is the audience’s similarity. Not because of age, sex, annual income or any demographic data; they are the same in the way they emote.
I first realized this during game one of the Edmonton/San Jose series. I was at a bar when San Jose scored to make it 2-1. The crowd’s demeanor went from that of a rowdy bar to that of a dentist’s office. The drilling our team took was like a drill into Oilers fans’ collective mouths. Since I’ve never known an admitted soap opera watcher, I use the hypothetical “soap opera watcher.” We all know her, sitting on the edge of her seat with the Kleenex and phone ready in case Fernando goes through with the affair. Both audiences go through similarly drastic--and similarly arbitrary-- highs and lows during a game/episode.
Another matter for comparison is the sheer unpredictability of both entertainment forms. Have you ever seen a weird play in sports? Like in basketball, the shot from half that manages to go in with a quarter of a second left--or in hockey when a player scores a goal on his knees and backwards? It is a fact that in sports, crazy shit happen. The same goes for soap operas: in a soap opera, it is a fairly regular occurrence that someone gets possessed by a demon, meets their evil twin or loses their millions. In both cases, abnormal incidents are the norm.

Another similarity is that we can’t start watching either of these forms of entertainment with expectations. I mean, we root for our home team, and we might place a bet on the better team, but there are too many factors. You might be underestimating the goalies playoff ability or a team’s fatigue. This is similar to predicting that Sandra will come out of her coma and point out Jeffrey as Matt’s killer. But here, we might underestimate just how desperate Jeffrey is. Maybe he’s willing to kill again. Or better yet, maybe she’ll come out of her coma with amnesia.

Perhaps the biggest similarity is the sheer pointlessness of both of these two entertainment forms. Why do we care if a group of guys we’ve never met are collectively better at moving a piece of rubber into netting than another group of guys? Why do we care if Eddy stops Helena’s evil plot to poison Sheena to get with Wes? None of these people have anything to do with us; but all of them have lives that are more exciting than ours. It’s simply a matter of having too much time on our hands at different points in the day.

I hope you don’t see this article as judgmental. If it helps, I have watched (and will watch) hockey and soaps before (and again). In fact, I’ll be rooting on the Oilers as soon as tomorrow night. I guess I’m just saying judge not the soapies, lest ye be judged, sportsfan. Or vice versa.

Day 1: Why?

I've been thinking a bit about why I wanted to start this blog and the following is the best answer I could come up with.

there are a few things in life that I (and, I'm assuming, everyone else) find myself compelled to do, the most relevant being writing and photography (but the list extends to include playing music and chess and a whole bunch of other things). However, as important as those things may be, I have trouble... justifying them.

There are always things that seem more pressing and more relevant to actual daily life: cleaning, working, eating, etc. But though these things seem ever-important also have a sort of... emptiness to them. They're things you have to do; not things you want to do(I'm not sure if that's some sort of spoiled child inside of me, but there it is.). Whereas the things that I want to do seem unimportant, though are probably more fulfilling.

And the way life invariably works is that the less time I find for these things that I, for better or for worse, associate with my self, the worse I get at them. Hence, my reason for creating this blog--as a reason to stay good at these things with daily practice.

I'm not sure what's more absurd: not finding time for things you care about or creating arbitrary deadlines to ensure that you do. But there it is.

I close with a story of a time not-so long ago when The Sims made me realize that I will never be fulfilled. I had recently read Chuck Klosterman's essay in Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs and I, similarly, thought the experience might shed some light on Jason (I realize this blog might step on the essay's toes a little, so I apologize).

I was at my counsins' house--or, more accurately, my aunt and uncle's house--and they went to bed early. They were due up early the next day, you see. I was still pretty awake so I made a character on the Sims that was, essentially, me. I had long hair, a slender build and glasses. I started off, trying to do the things I wanted to do--the things we all associate with "enjoying life." But what invariably happened is I didn't see certain people, I was late for work, I didn't get enough sleep/food/time to shower. As much as I tried to remedy the situation by going to bed early, budgeting time better, there was always one aspect of my life that I was neglecting.

The experience left me feeling extremely empty, and not just because I was 22 years old in my cousins' basement, playing video games at 3am by myself. But because that was exactly how my life was going at the time, and it continues to this day. I will never feel like I'm putting enough time/effort into every aspect of my life or person in my life. I discovered, as Chuck Klosterman put it better than I can (hence why I need to practice my writing), that I was "eternally enslaved by the process of living."

I'd recommend you read Chuck's essay because it is fantastic and exact (for me anyway) about what The Sims makes you feel. I think that's as good a place to end as any..

Man, what an unhappy second post. I find whenever I write just to write, I invariably bore myself with my whinyness. And yes, I know "whinyness" isn't a word.

Oh, and I also attached a picture from Bangkok that somehow seems relevant. How, I'm not sure, though again, I could probably argue for some meaning in it all. That's, again arguably, how organized religion came about.

First Post HooRAH!

Hey all,

I realized today that I miss writing notes to no one on facebook and myspace. That in mind, I decided to start my own, real, "blog"-thingy.

Do I have a lot to say? Well, no. But that won't stop me from posting lots of meaningless, though sometimes mildly amusing, posts.

I'm planning on posting something every day because, with my new job, I have a lot of time that isn't as functional as I might hope. The posts could be anything from random stories (they won't be too day-to-day, I swear) to pictures. It will probably also include random thoughts, lists and short fiction that I've written.

The point? Well, it's partially to hone my skills as a writer so I can consider doing something with the written word beyond rewriting copy stories. But it's also...to create... something. And to take that something and share it with people about whom I care, along with some strangers, I assume.

I am including a picture in this post, which anyone who has been to our condo might recognize. I took this about a year ago on a whim. I didn't put a ton of thought into the composition or anything, but it's one of my favourites that I've taken. I've taken pictures where I've spent minutes framing and I haven't like them nearly as much as this almost-snapshot.

I could probably argue for some meaning in that (trusting your instincts, or something about random chance) but it would be arbitrary.

I hope you enjoy my blog.

Your friend and lover,

Jason