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You say I’m picky like it’s a bad thing.

In Culture on April 21, 2013 at 2:18 am

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Oh Fraulein Maria, why can’t every movie I watch be nominated for 10 Academy Awards, be one of the highest-grossing film of all-time, and also a classic? An actress I love, a genre I love, and a plot that I…love. Sigh…

I’m a picky movie watcher. I have had others tell me and I have noticed it myself. I am a picky movie watcher. I don’t know if there is an incredibly deep reason behind it but I am a picky movie watcher.

It’s weird being a picky movie watcher. People will rave about movies that I think are ok. On the other hand, there are movies I love that people don’t care for in the slightest. I feel like some species of a hipster.

*Animal Planet voice-over guy*: Look what we have here, folks. It’s the Picky Movie Watcher, Hipster Cinema Disdainious as biologists call him, in its natural habitat: sitting at its laptop on Rotten Tomatoes. The Picky Movie Watcher is easily distracted by films with rave reviews from critics. Careful though, while the Picky Movie Watcher seems unassuming, most people who stay around it enough come away with the stink of condescension.

And here’s the kicker, I actually like movies people have heard of before. Action movies, comedies, romantic comedies, musicals, sports movies, cartoons, etc. Love love love. I also have actors/actresses/directors that I’ll watch almost anything that they make, including but not limited to (and in no particular order mind you): the Dame Julie Andrews, Will Smith, Denzel Washington, Ryan Reynolds, Carey Mulligan, Emily Blunt, the Dame Judi Dench, Leonardo Dicaprio, Edward Norton, Hugh Laurie, Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Bruce Willis, Christopher Walken, Jennifer Lawrence, Bradley Cooper, Jennifer Connelly, Bryan Cranston, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Julianne Moore, Anne Hathaway, Natalie Portman, Anna Kendrick, Alfred Hitchcock, Steven Spielberg, Christopher Nolan, Quentin Tarantino, James McAvoy, and Emma Stone. I think that’s as random as that could possibly be. Good.

Moving on…I like stuff that people have heard of. I love the Toy Story franchise, Argo, the Bond franchise, The Artist, The Harry Potter franchise, any movie based on comic books or any book for that matter, any cartoon for the most part, the Star Wars franchise, etc.

I like stuff. And after seeing that list, you might wonder how I am so picky. Well here’s the rub: it has to be right combination of any number of factors such as cast, trailer, writing, characters, setting, etc. If I’m not feeling it, I won’t watch it. And I am typically not feeling a lot of things.

Moreover, I like movies that ask awkward questions. Some can be awkward funny but mostly, they’re awkward serious. Like,

What would happen if you wanted to date someone who is a professional matchmaker?

What would happen if a man who served our country returned home to a family that doesn’t recognize him anymore?

What would happen if you were a guy, with no guy friends, who was trying to make guy friends?

What would happen if we delved into the history of racism in the United States?

What would happen if you were pregnant in high school?

What would happen if you could erase your memory of past relationships?

What would happen if a pilot saved hundreds of lives while he flew a plane drunk and high?

What would happen if two kids decided to run off together because they didn’t like their lives?

What would happen if your life was just a dream and you’ve been refusing to wake up?

What if you could talk to Death and convince him to give you more time?

What if you had been raised by a surrogate father, who turned out to be a psychotic mobster, and you grew up to be a cop?

Those are some awkward questions. And if we’re perfectly honest, no one really knows the answer. Some of these questions are things we have dealt with in our own lives or seen how someone else dealt with them; most are not but some are. We may not know the answers but we know that these questions are real. We agree to sit and view how the director, writers, actors/actresses etc. choose to answer these question.

Now, I’m not saying that I don’t watch popular movies that are just fun to watch and enjoy. I am also not saying that popular movies do not ask awkward questions that leave you with something when you leave the theater. I’m just saying that I typically trend towards movies that try to answer awkward questions because my mind asks awkward questions. I really don’t know any other way to be.

How do you solve a picky person like me? I really don’t know.

An easier question might be, how do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?

2 Chainz: the non-sequitur king of the world

In Culture on December 20, 2012 at 3:53 pm
2 Chainz is tearing up the mainstream hip-hop game right now, but I'm onto his method.

2 Chainz is tearing up the mainstream hip-hop game right now, but I’m onto his method.

I have a confession: while I’m working out, I enjoy “ratchet rap” – the in-your-face, ignorant hip-hop that is in no way intelligent or even moderately thought-provoking. Hip-hop gets me going in the morning and puts me to sleep at night. The genre is a major component of my life, and I consider it a true form of expression and a pivotal outlet for many kids who need the positive distraction. Some of hip-hop’s deepest modern artists – like Lupe Fiasco and Macklemore – send my head spinning and leave it in motion for days.

But some of the stuff just doesn’t make sense, and 2 Chainz is the leader of the tomfoolery. 2 Chainz is one of the hottest mainstream hip-hop artists right now. He even has a new Champs Sports commercial. Lately, as I’ve been running around my neighborhood or lifting weights in the gym, his illogical music has pierced through my headphones and left me thinking, wait … what in the world did he just say?

I may be the color of mayonnaise, but I’m onto you, 2 Chainz, and it’s time to inform the world.

The phrase “non sequitur” is Latin for “it does not follow.” As Wikipedia states: “In a non sequitur, the conclusion could be either true or false, but the argument is fallacious because there is a disconnection between the premise and the conclusion.”

When 2 Chainz is featured in songs – notably hits “Mercy” by Pusha T and “Bands A Make Her Dance” by Juicy J – he sticks to making obscure food references (such as ketchup, cheese, and bread) while discussing women in extreme detail, referring to alcohol and drugs, and displaying extreme affection for his coupe. But his most popular individual songs follow the formula below.

Step One: Come up with a really catchy beat

Step Two: Propose some deep, reflective question

Step Three: Respond to the question with a completely irrelevant, shallow line – videlicet, a non sequitur

For analysis, let’s look at his two biggest songs of late.

1. “I’m Different”

True difference is respectable and, quite frankly, it’s rare among stars in modern society. As Ralph Waldo Emerson put it: “To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.” So for acknowledging your difference, 2 Chainz, I salute you.

However, it’s unclear just how you are different. “I’m different, yeah, I’m different,” he raps in the chorus. Good! I’m glad to see that. Now tell us how you’re different.

“Pull up to the scene with my ceiling missing,” ummm, “Pull up to the scene with my ceiling missing.”

Question: what is so different about driving around in a convertible? Plenty of people do that. You just leave me wondering and never answer the question of how, in fact, you are different, 2 Chainz.

2. “Birthday Song”

Once every month at the student publication I run, The Spectrum, a few of the arts editors put together a Mixtape Monthly in which they review the hottest hip-hop set to release. In October, they described 2 Chainz’s “Birthday Song” as follows: “That song alone will have you ready to flip glass tables and throw diamonds into the crowd. If you have subwoofers in your car, we highly recommend playing this song as ride up music for anywhere you go.”

I agree! It’s amazing pump-up music, and it’ll probably get you more hype than anything from Lupe or Macklemore. But it’s from 2 Chainz, so does it make sense? Of course not. Look at the chorus.

“They ask me what I do and who I do it for.” I’m sure a lot of people have wondered this, 2 Chainz. Who do you rap for? Who was your influence, your role model to get caught up in this high-octane rap game?

“And how I come up with this sh** up in the studio.” You do think of some absurd lines. So what’s your answer? Who IS your inspiration? And how DO you come up with “this sh**?”

“All I want for my birthday is a big booty hoe.” Come on. You can’t be serious, man. “All I want for my birthday is a big booty hoe.”

I mean, if that’s what you really want, enjoy your birthday, but you still didn’t answer any of the questions you posed.

If that sequence doesn’t prove it, I don’t know if anything will: 2 Chainz is one of the all-time masters of the non sequitur.

Twitter’s Indelible Impact on Sports

In Culture, Life, Sports on December 14, 2012 at 11:59 am

Since its creation in 2006, Twitter has become nothing less than a societal phenomenon. Everyone, it seems, from famous athletes and celebrities to your corner grocer is tweeting and following others, trying to share their thoughts on the state of the world, stay up-to-date on their particular flavor of news or gossip, or just trying to rub virtual elbows with the rich, famous, and influential. The sheer number of people using Twitter today inherently provides the service with a tremendous amount of power; with a great reach to a vast audience comes immense opportunity. Social media  is a profoundly effective tool when utilized correctly, and what arena could be better-suited to take full advantage of these resources than sports? No entity’s success is more dependent on its engagement of the population than a sports organization, and no entity provokes the same kind of loyalty and passion within its affiliates. Indeed, a sports organization’s very existence is predicated on a mutually gratifying relationship with the fans. As a result, any athletic brand with some semblance of forward thinking is working hard on improving its social media profile today. It is critical to winning over the fans.

Consider Notre Dame Football’s Twitter profile as an example of social media’s evolution. One of the newest practices in college sports is to essentially tweet the play-by-play of an athletic contest.  @NDFootball tweets frequent updates during Irish football games, often maintaining a furious pace. ND Football tweeted 102 times on October 13, 2012, the date of Notre Dame’s overtime victory over Stanford; this was a vital date for Notre Dame because that win catapulted the Irish into true legitimacy on their way to an undefeated regular season, #1 BCS ranking and a berth in the National Championship game. These kinds of play-by-play tweets are such a cool way for fans to connect with the team, because unlike following on GameCast or another reporting service, a team’s official Twitter account has the element of being explicitly connected to the team itself, and the game updates are presented from this perspective. All this is very important to a shared fan experience. ND Football also live tweets from Brian Kelly’s press conferences on Tuesdays and his radio show on Thursdays, sharing information directly from the source with fans who hang on every word but could have never gotten into a private press conference. These kinds of things accentuate the strength of social media by emphasizing the immediate availability of inside information for fans.

If I could define Twitter in one word from a sports fan’s perspective, that word would be “access.” Access to this inside information, access to contact with athletes, access to places that were never navigable before. The thought of interacting with one’s favorite football team is incredibly exciting for any die-hard fan; yet via Twitter, this is a very distinct possibility. In a revolutionary turn of events, anyone has the ability to interact with any other person who has a Twitter account, including famous athletes and celebrities. I just imagine if someone would have told me ten years ago that I could have insight into the day to day thoughts of my favorite NFL players, and that I could tell them exactly how much I admire or revile them, I would have said that was crazy. How wrong I would have been. Twitter has brought fan, team, and player closer together, and this is truly a great thing for both parties.

Twitter has also revolutionized the sports world and its media outlets because of the nature of news. In the journalism business, arriving first to a story is a significant victory, but social media has taken breaking news to the point of near immediacy. As a result, the watchful eye of national/local media outlets can catch what insiders on these Twitter sites are divulging, and must be quick to immediately jump on the story. The staggering impact that social media has had on the reporting of information cannot be overstated. With Twitter, you do not have to wait a day for the local newspaper to digest the game and spit out a form article covering its events; you can follow it in real time, through the lens of an official affiliate of your favorite team. It is now rare to not have access to a blow-by-blow Twitter account of any major sporting event. That is a radically different and awesome opportunity that has not been around for very long, but it is spreading like wildfire.

Indeed, the impact that social media has had on the sporting world as a whole cannot be overstated. For fans, sponsors, and media outlets alike, through its immediacy and intimacy of information, Twitter has revolutionized athletics in an astonishingly short time. Twitter feeds share a common importance to fans; inside information. Sports fans rabidly consume information that they perceive as exclusive or special, and firsthand accounts from a source closely affiliated with an athletic organization definitely qualify. News has become nearly instantaneous. We can have virtual conversations with our favorite athletes. As a fervent sports fan, this is an exquisitely beautiful world to live in. Thank you, Twitter.

Drop-backs and tattoos: an inked sports writer’s response to David Whitley

In Culture, Life, Sports on November 30, 2012 at 11:16 pm
Kaepernick

Sparked by a Sporting News column, San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick’s tattoos have been the source of heated discussion across national sports media the past two days.

Tattoos are the hot topic and columnist David Whitley is under fire. The reason? On Wednesday, Whitley published a column entitled “Colin Kaepernick ushers in an inked-up NFL quarterbacking era.”

Here’s the gist: Whitley doesn’t like tattoos, new 49ers QB Kaepernick (a good-character 25-year-old from Milwaukee who is thriving as the new guy under center in San Francisco) has a myriad of permanent markings on his body, and Whitley thinks Kaepernick is setting a bad example for kids.

I am in a unique position to respond. I am a young man who is: a white guy, a sports journalist, a former athlete who considered playing college basketball and probably would have won the NBA Slam Dunk Contest one day if that had happened, an avid NFL fan since birth, a business professional, someone who has pondered if athletes should be considered role models, and a canvas of two tattoos.

Hear me out.

First, I am the editor in chief of a college newspaper. I worked in the sports department at a local television station for a year, I often write sports articles for two local daily newspapers, and I’ve also done freelance reporting for The New York Times. While I am young (21 years old) and Whitley calls himself a “dinosaur,” I am a sports writer just like him. And while I may not have the clout he has as a writer for AOL and Sporting News and I don’t want to cause a ruckus by publishing this column in a publication, the Internet gives me the same ability to express my thoughts through a small blog I share with two of my closest friends.

I gave Mr. Whitley my eyes and undivided attention. Now I am asking for his.

I promise it won’t take too long, but I have a whole bunch of thoughts.

While my two (yes, just two) tattoos don’t show up in a business setting, they’re both large and noticeable. Additionally, my newspaper (The Spectrum) published a point/counterpoint section debating tattoos last year and my co-worker Lisa Khoury’s anti-tattoo column went viral. I know Lisa and I know she’s a good person. I’m sure Whitley is, too.

I’m not here to debate if Whitley is racist, as some writers have asserted. I suppose the criticism is warranted because he compared Kaepernick to a prisoner and commended white quarterbacks, such as Peyton Manning, while demeaning black quarterbacks, namely Michael Vick. However, I trust it was an oversight and his response is genuine. I ask you to do the same, as readers tend to assume the worst in writers and fail to grant the benefit of the doubt. I am a white male like Whitley, but I grew up in the inner city of Buffalo and I’m not your typical “wealthy suburban prep” (in fact, as you can read via that link, the stereotype bothers me to no end). I think Whitley’s two adopted black daughters are enough evidence that he is far from a bigot.

Instead, I’m here to talk about his assertion that “a person’s body is a temple, and you don’t cover temples in graffiti.” I saw the overwhelmingly negative response to Lisa Khoury’s column firsthand, and I don’t wish to degrade Mr. Whitley or label him as closed-minded, as other blogs have done. This is simply the frank opinion of a developing journalist — who is probably similar to the person Whitley was when he was 21 — who has tattoos, doesn’t see them as an issue whatsoever, and has no problem telling the world.

Young? Absolutely. Naive? Hardly.

I got my first tattoo when I was 19 years old. It is scripted: “he conquers who conquers himself,” a translation of the Latin saying “vincit qui se vincit.”

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“he conquers who conquers himself”

Mr. Whitley, this tattoo is not a way “to pay homage to [my] religion, children and motorcycle gang.” It is rather a constant reminder that life is not about me. Society preaches arrogance to college students, and it’s easy to buy in. It’s easy to be a selfish young person. Sometimes, that’s a huge problem for me. The phrase “he conquers who conquers himself” is a reminder that I will not accomplish anything in life when I just set out to serve myself. I won’t leave anything behind.

As Winston Churchill said, “You make a living by what you get; you make a life by what you give.” That’s a concept I often struggle with. Believe it or not, every time I see my tattoo, I go out aiming to make someone’s day. I aim to do something bigger than serve myself.

The tattoo is also a metaphoric bridge. When people happen to see it and ask what it says, I’m able to tell them the philosophy behind it. Would not the world be a better place if everyone were to “conquer him/herself” and start serving others? I think it would. I tend to think you would agree. That’s why I have the message permanently etched into my chest.

But my back, well, that’s the tattoo that means the most to me. Here’s a photo:

My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

As I said, I was an athlete growing up, so everyone who sees this tattoo and doesn’t know me well assumes it was my high school number. But this number belongs to someone much more talented and generally much better than I. This number belongs to life-long friend Zack McLeod, who suffered a serious head injury during a football game in 2008 and has not had an easy recovery. Here is a basic synopsis.

Inside the number 16 is Zack’s favorite Bible verse, II Corinthians 12:9: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

Zack epitomizes the perfect kid — the “little Dutch boy” Whitley so admires. He was one of the best athletes I’ve ever met and yet he was the nicest kid — the kind of young man you can only wish your kid will grow up to be. He was humble. He had conquered himself.

And then the injury happened.

It didn’t — and still doesn’t — make sense to me. Why do such bad things happen to such good people? The tattoo is my outlet for telling others about Zack. If I were to tell you the full story, I can guarantee it would change the way you see the world. The back tattoo is also my permanent reminder that anyone’s life could come crashing down at any given moment — no matter how kind, talented, or good you are. Appreciate what you have. Show love. For more on this “pay-it-forward, carpe-diem” philosophy, check out a column I wrote at the beginning of this semester.

Maybe you, Mr. Whitley, don’t need reminders to be a good, selfless person. Maybe you think my tattoos would make “Jerry Richardson clutch his chest in horror,” like you assert Kaepernick’s will if he ever hoists the Lombardi Trophy.

You may very well have not made it this far, but I applaud you if you have. Stick with me. I’m almost done.

Am I not justified in being a professional with these two constant reminders on my skin? Does that discredit me and make me look like a prisoner, sir? Do I resemble the “98.7 percent of the inmates at California’s state prison [who] have tattoos?” I’ve never had any trouble with the law, I’m a Dean’s List student, and I excel in my work — but I do have two tattoos.

Mr. Whitley, I know you think I’ve missed your point and I also know you think “tattoo removal is going to be huge industry in the coming years,” but that industry won’t be getting any of my money. Not a dollar.

I was grappling with this column in class today when my Spanish teacher started talking about tattoos. A student sitting next to me asked if I had any, and I answered in the affirmative.

He scoffed. “You really want something permanently on your skin?” His judgment was clear, as if he was saying: “You’ll regret that in five years and never land a job.”

Then he took a big gulp of lemon-lime Gatorade and sighed, “I drank way too much last night.”

I spent last night producing a newspaper that would be read by over 10,000 people and working on a documentary for class until 4 a.m. But, again, I have two tattoos (which, though I’m adamant they deeply affect me, are about as meaningful to many — including the young man in class — as barbed wire on someone’s bicep), so I’m probably not on pace to land a successful job.

You ended your column with: “If you can’t draw the tattoo line at NFL quarterback, you can’t draw them anywhere.”

Consider this: Maybe an inked-up NFL quarterbacking era isn’t the worst thing in the world. Maybe, in fact, it can be a positive thing. Maybe painting the walls of our “temples” with impactful, uplifting messages that mean a lot to each individual isn’t a sign of the Apocalypse.

Everything in transit.

In Culture on August 1, 2012 at 10:14 pm

 

You matter.

You matter. Your feelings matter. Your opinion matters. People care about you. You matter to someone and something. You matter.

Sometimes it feels like everything moves so fast. There are thousands of voices that seem to drown out whatever was going to escape your lips. And sometimes, it seems like those voices are coming from inside of your own head.

So we try to scream above the noise. We try to show how individual and unique we are. Yet, we seem to do that in the same way everybody else is showing they’re an individual. We get further lost in the shuffle. Like life is a game and we are losing.

Maybe this is because we want to matter. We want to know someone cares. On the basest of levels, we want to know that the things we do have an effect. That we had an impact on something. That in a world that can seem like an arbitrary existence, we controlled something. And other people noticed.

But if that’s all a game, what would happen if we just walked away from the board? We are so blessed. If you are able to read this, you have been blessed with internet access or a means of getting to internet access. You are blessed to have a computer, or any other electronic device, in front of you. There are so many things in your life that you know are truly amazing. They may not be overly significant to the masses but they are important and sufficient in your life. We are blessed. And not just with stuff. We are blessed with people.

Why does the focus have to be on us? How we feel? And why do we feel so bad about almost everything that pertains to us and look at almost everything else with such cynicism and trepidation? Would it be so bad if we told people we appreciate them and thank them for just being themselves? Would it take too long to listen to another point of view before voicing our opinions? Life moves quickly. The greatest human invention was a means of keeping time and somehow we don’t seem to have enough. Why don’t we change that? Does respect take too long?

Because when it’s all a blur of self-centered “individuality”, everything gets lost in whatever we want others to see us as. So please, let’s all take some time out to just look at life. Slow down. Take a step back and survey the life that you are blessed to have. Think of five things you are thankful for and find a way to show some appreciation. Take everything in transit.

Because the people in our lives matter. The things we have matter. The blessings we have matter. And maybe most importantly, you matter.

Treat others the way you would like to be treated.

 

 

The thrill of the eternal chase

In Culture, Life, Women on July 9, 2012 at 10:38 pm


Every guy has a Jordan. She was the girl I just couldn’t get. It was impossible. Guys don’t get her.

I was 18. Broke out all the stops. Made myself look like a fool. She resisted. Thought about her 24/7. Wrote her a short book. (Yup, that happened.) All day, every day, all Jordan.

Then I got her. Didn’t want her anymore.

(“Jordan” is a pseudonym — sorry to the countless now-heartbroken Jordan’s.)

The thrill of the chase. All guys know it. All are prone to it.

I was on my back porch talking with Andrew this weekend when we deciphered that his latest relationship was a fitting example of a guy being consumed with the thrill of the chase. He was upset. “I thought I was above that,” he sighed.

I let out a hearty laugh. “No guy is above it.”

So what is it exactly? Well, the thrill of the chase is all about getting a girl who seems unreachable. Maybe she’s out of your league, or too mature, or she doesn’t date. “Nah, man, you can’t get her.”

Challenge accepted.

Here’s a basic explanation.

When a guy sees how hard it is to get a girl (this could be vice-versa as well, but I’ve never exactly been a girl and I don’t see as many examples of girls chasing guys), he must have her. It’s a proven fact that the harder she is to get, the hotter she is. (That’s not really a proven fact.)

He’ll think about her all day. He’ll do the craziest things to get her — buy flowers, hand-write long letters, sing to her.

And then, suddenly, he gets her. It’s kind of shocking. For a little while, it’s awesome. And then, again suddenly, he’s sick of it. There’s no work left to do.

So he drops her until he finds the next girl to chase. The more she rejects, the more he yearns.

Of course, there are rare exceptions. There are times the guy doesn’t actually get sick of the girl and continually works for her affection long after he’s received it. That’s called love, I guess.

Anyway, let’s debunk this whole thing. There’s no sense pretending it doesn’t exist because, really, it does.

It all begins with the desire to be accepted. When you see somebody who you find appealing, you want that person to find you mutually appealing (be this friendship, romance, what have you). You want him/her to respect you.

You work to be respected — it’s like any competitive career. You’re going to get rejected right away. You just don’t have the experience or credentials. But if you have as much potential as you think you do (note: you have to be somewhere within the vicinity of the correct league), keep chipping away, and keep garnering little victories, eventually you’ll probably land that amazing job you’ve dreamed about.

When you finally land that amazing job, you’ll love it. You’ll be starstruck. It’ll be everything you dreamed of. For a while.

Then you’ll realize there are downfalls to everything in life. The grass will always be greener somewhere.

What if I worked fewer hours? I wouldn’t always be so tired.

What if I worked more hours? I wouldn’t always be so bored.

What if I made more money? It’d be great to have some financial padding.

What if I made a little less money? I wouldn’t have to worry about getting robbed 0r people hating me.

My mom always tells me something, though I don’t need her to remind me because it was permanently engraved in my mind the first time she uttered the words: “Life is a series of trade-offs.” No, she’s not being pessimistic. She’s not that type of person.

She’s right! Life will always, always, be a sequence of What ifs… 

I promise I’m not off the thrill-of-the-chase train of thought. I just needed to relate it to something so my point makes a little more sense.

If right away I’d said, “hey, seeking girls is like God,” you probably would’ve labeled me as ludicrous (which reminds me of a quality tune about seeking women) than you are right now. But on the real, the two chases are similar. Beyond similar. The thrill of the chase can be related perfectly to our walk with God.

We seek other things — careers, money, (ahem) women — and end up empty. We get them and then wonder: Now what? Isn’t there some sort of new satisfaction and contentment with life? Where is it? 

See, those things we chase are the things we aren’t supposed to have. They’re the things we don’t have now, but we’re convinced life would be a million times better if we got them. So we build them up in our minds. We idolize them.

It’s the same way with women. Just like no guy is above the thrill of the chase, no one is above seeking earthly desires. We think about ‘em all the time to the point that they become gods. And every single time, they fall short in some regard. Without fail, they yield disappointment instead of the contentment which we seek.

It’s because we’re chasing the wrong things. If you’re chasing your future wife, then dammit, you won’t be disappointed when she finally agrees to date you.

But if you’re chasing the wrong girl (not even that she’s a bad girl, just that she’s not the right one for you), eventually she won’t feel like the right girl when you get her. She won’t be a god anymore. Hell, she won’t even be appealing.

There is certainly a thrill in chasing women. There’s just no bona fide thrill in gaining something which won’t last forever.

“So Jacob worked seven years to pay for Rachel. But his love for her was so strong that it seemed to him but a few days.” — Genesis 29:20

Remembering the years that made you who you are today

In Culture, Life on July 3, 2012 at 1:21 am

This was me, right, with my friend Jay in 2010. At different points of that year, I had black hair, a mohawk and pierced ears. We all go through rough patches.

I did something dangerous today.

I decided to look at my old blog.

If you don’t keep a diary/journal/blog, you’re missing out on some great future laughs. Sometimes you’ll look back on something you did and forgot about, and just think: Really? 

Remember the person you were in 2010? You might laugh. It seems so recent, right? How much could you have changed since then?

My guess is a lot.

The blog I found was one of the bleakest, most depressing things I’ve read in recent memory. Good Lord. I really love life, and it feels like it’s always been that way.

Not exactly. A couple posts made me cringe.

I wrote about how nothing gold can stay, the people I cared about didn’t care about me and how reality will never be good enough. Here was my thought process on Christmas 2010:

“So it’s Christmas. The day everyone gets tons of gifts and pretends to be ‘thankful.’ Fuck all of you.”

Whoa. Who thinks like that? Who says that?

Apparently the 2010 version of me.

I also wrote about how I wasn’t good at anything. I didn’t think I had any talent. I penned to myself: “How can you expect anyone else to like you when you hate yourself?”

Yikes. Another bomb.

I don’t remember ever being such a negative person, but obviously I was. A few bad things had piled up (struggling with not going to school, a serious car accident and getting thrown away by a girl), but I don’t understand how I ever thought like that. My outlook couldn’t be more different as of July 3, 2012.

If I had to pick one thing that changed, it’d be my entry into journalism. I joined the school paper and met someone who is one of my good friends today, Matt Parrino, my Senior Sports Editor. After about a month, he became my big brother and took me under his wing. Any success I’ve had to date in journalism is because of Matt.

It’s my passion. It’s something I really love. My life was headed so quickly and so far downhill before I joined the newspaper.

Here’s a question: If you’re mad at the world, are you doing what you love? If the answer is ‘no,’ why the hell not?

Go do it! It’ll change everything.

God had His hand on my life the entire time. I think about all the times I could have died or been arrested or gotten in serious trouble, and I can do nothing but breathe deep and thank Him for taking care of me. For letting me go through those dark days and bringing me to today.

Tonight, as Andrew and I were driving home from our basketball game, we were groaning about our many injuries. He and I are going on 23 and 21, respectively, but we could barely move our legs. It was a pretty comical sight.

“We’re such old men,” he laughed.

I instantly thought about the blog and smiled.

Older? Undoubtedly.

Wiser? Infinitely.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” — Jeremiah 29:11

 

Gentlemanly excursion reveals subtle epiphany

In Culture, Life on June 29, 2012 at 10:18 pm

It was going to be the funniest movie of all-time. Ever. Naturally, the Gentlemen had to go together.

While Ted may have fallen just short of the hype (and the egregiously hilarious previews), it took me to a place I never expected it would: deep in thought.

When we finally found three seats together, the boys and I settled in for a good time filled with barrel laughs and girlish squeals (totally not me). The movie is based on a pot head — an extremely offensive, alcoholic Teddy bear with a big heart. What part of that isn’t funny?

If you came up with an answer, you are wrong.

I won’t remember the laughs, though. There was one line that stuck with me, one part that had the three of us nodding in agreement.

Ted was a childhood star. He was on magazine covers and television shows. He was famous. As the narrator is fast-forwarding to present-day Ted, he reminds the audience: “It doesn’t matter how big of a splash you make in this world, whether you’re Corey Feldman, Frankie Muniz or Justin Bieber. Eventually, nobody gives a shit.”

I paused.

Akanimo chuckled. “It’s true.”

Akanimo is better at being OK with accepting stuff like this than I am. He always has the attitude I appreciate what I have and the ones I love while I’m constantly thinking Damn, I really need to do something incredible to have an impact.

Did we just posit some grand, deep truth? And, more strangely, did we posit it because of a movie about a fictional Teddy bear?

Maybe.

Here’s the concept: You, yes you, will be forgotten. Think about it.

Now really think about it.

It’s easy to feel bigger than we are, to forget that we are individually ants in the world and, well, something much smaller than ants in the grand scheme of history.

Obviously your family and close friends will remember you as long as they live, and your other relatives will, too. If you do enough, maybe you’ll even be remembered for 50 or 100 years. But eventually, nobody gives a shit.

Let that change the way you see the world today. I’m driven to be the most successful, the most well known, in my career. My life is all about success. It’s what I’ve always wanted, and I write that sincerely.

And for what?

Sure, any successful person will be remembered for a while. Think of the most famous, successful people around this day and age: among them are Barack Obama, LeBron James, and Steve Jobs, just to name a few.

In 200 years, do you think anyone will care about any of them? Maybe some kid will have to memorize Obama’s name for a history test, but adolescents in that day won’t care. The NBA probably won’t exist. Apple will have been far surpassed, and the one-time college-dropout who became wildly successful will be like the rest of us.

Forgotten.

Here’s my point: there’s nothing wrong with being driven. Nothing wrong with wanting success (just check out my favorite YouTube video). But when it gets in the way of you caring about the people of your life, it’s an issue. It’s bigger than an issue. It’s asinine.

When you focus more on individual success or being famous than you do on the people you encounter every day, you’re wasting your life on something trivial. Something that will be forgotten.

The movie was phenomenal, by the way.

But eventually, nobody will give a shit.

 

“Is there anything of which one can say, ‘Look! This is something new’? It was here already, long ago; it was here before our time. No one remembers the former generations, and even those yet to come will not be remembered by those who follow them.”
Ecclesiastes 1:8-11

Act of Valor

In Culture, Life on April 17, 2012 at 6:35 am

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Before venturing to the theater and forking over ten or twelve dollars to see the newest release, moviegoers typically check movie review sites to hear about critics’ and viewers’ experiences. And why not? Hearing a variety of reviews almost always provides an accurate picture of the movie’s quality, so viewers can avoid wasting their time and money on a dud. I almost always check Rotten Tomatoes before I go see a movie – going in blind is just not worth the risk. I’ve had some really bad movie watching experiences doing that.

With that being said… critics’ opinion should not always be the final word. It seems to me that a good deal of the people who evaluate movies for a living eventually lose touch with what is actually good. (And don’t even get me started on the Academy.) In one particular case recently, I was extremely glad that I disregarded the critics’ acrimony; otherwise, (well… I hate to exaggerate… actually, never mind, I’m not exaggerating) I would have missed one of the greatest movie watching experiences I have had the pleasure of enjoying. Act of Valor was simply tremendous.

When my friends and I heard that a movie starring real Navy SEALs was being made, we immediately made mental reservations for opening weekend. We were disappointed when that weekend arrived, and with the movie came a 25% critical approval rating. We could only conclude that it was poorly written, horrifically produced, dreadfully directed, or some combination of the three. Nevertheless, we decided to press on, because of something between a desire to support the members of our military who acted in the film and a desire to just enjoy an action-packed “guy movie.”

With my expectations lowered, I was nothing short of astounded by Act of Valor. This movie has it all. I experienced an extensive range of potent emotions in those 101 minutes, an agreeable departure from a typical “guy movie.” But it’s no chick flick either – there’s an abundant amount of superbly executed action (not surprising, given the real Navy SEALs in starring roles). In addition, even beyond these traits, it was Act of Valor’s intangibles that took it right into the stratosphere of movie experiences. The burning reaction of patriotism, gripping depth of gratitude, and even several reflexive (and audible) “wow’s” that this movie engendered from me were simply breathtaking to experience. It is a real art to be able to powerfully move an audience to such deep emotion, and I commend those who accomplished this through their work on this film.

Given this analysis, it’s pretty clear that I find the 25% critics’ rating completely ridiculous. In scenes heavy on dialogue, it was pretty clear that the Navy SEAL actors weren’t professionals… but I thought that added a terrific dimension of sincerity and realness to their characters. In fact, the line between documentary and feature film gets slightly hazy, which was extremely cool as well. The plot flies forward, the action pulls you aggressively in, and you are wholly immersed in a unique movie experience from the moment the lights go down. I could talk all day, but I’m gonna stop here. Just go see the movie. I can’t wait to see it again.

By the way, Act of Valor’s audience agrees with my assessment. The viewers’ rating on Rotten Tomatoes was 80%.

My first comic-con and its greater societal reflection

In Culture, Life on April 16, 2012 at 6:15 pm

I didn’t dress up for UBCon – the University at Buffalo’s own massive anime/gaming convention – this weekend. I didn’t even know it was going on until I saw some Facebook statuses and tweets on Friday night. But when I strolled into the Student Union to get The Spectrum ready to print this rainy Sunday morning, there were dozens of people donning dozens of quirky costumes, consumed by character, galvanized for a day full of festivities.

Is…that…Ash Ketchum? Making out with Zelda? At college, you get used to seeing some pretty strange stuff, but this was a new level of curious. I didn’t recognize most of the outfits, and when they asked who I was dressed as, I looked down at my shirt and tie and muttered: “Clark Kent.”

I was an outsider. Here’s the strangest part of it all, and what sparked this column: when I was standing in line at Tim Hortons, scanning the bizarre crowd, and listening to the “nerdy” conversations, I spotted something that made me feel at home: a kid holding a basketball.

I sighed, relieved: there is a normal person. I’m not alone. Then I got to thinking: why do I think this kid is normal? What if he and I are the peculiar ones? Certainly, to this crowd, we are pretty weird.

When I surround myself with sports guys like me, it’s easy to look like I know what I’m talking about. Those are the things I like, the things I grew up focusing on. Meanwhile, the kids at UBCon grew up on comics, video games, and cartoons – and there is nothing wrong with that.

Why is it OK – or, I guess, more socially acceptable – that I always had the NBA, NHL, MLB, and NFL standings memorized when I was a kid? Does that make me a nerd?

To some extent, I think it does. But in society’s eyes, I am a dude, and guys are supposed to care about sports.

I played into the stereotype when I watched a meaningless Raptors-Celtics game Friday night instead writing my Criticism paper. I played into the stereotype Saturday when I played football with my friends instead of cleaning my room. I played into the stereotype today as I flipped through Sports Illustrated with The Complete Poetry and Essential Prose of John Milton sitting on my floor.

So who is to say that I’m more socially normal – or cooler – than the kids who show up, outfits and all, to comic-cons? And why am I so socially conditioned to cringe when I see a large group of people that look different from me?

Maybe it’s because we like feeling accepted. And when we’re surrounded by a huge group of people that don’t look like us, well, we don’t feel accepted.

Did you know that people who feel rejected are likely to have shorter lives than those who feel accepted? It’s scientific fact – their immune systems break down and they’re prone to severe depression and anxiety. I’m not saying all “nerds” feel rejected, because I know that’s not the case. But I’m guessing that if we continue to propel these social theories of what is cool and what is not, we’re headed down the road to alienation – if we haven’t reached its apex already.

I found some fascinating analysis on psychologicalscience.org:

“Exclusion isn’t just a problem for the person who suffers it, either; it can disrupt society at large…People who have been excluded often lash out against others. In experiments, they give people much more hot sauce than they can stand, blast strangers with intense noise, and give destructive evaluations of prospective job candidates. Rejection can even contribute to violence. An analysis of 15 school shooters found that all but two had been socially rejected,” according to the website.

So when we call someone a “nerd,” we are essentially calling them weird, and when we call them weird, we are essentially saying they aren’t like us, and when we say they aren’t like us, it all comes back to haunt us.

In my opinion, nothing positive will ever come from making fun of someone else. Do you feel good about yourself after you demean someone? I know I don’t.

I’ve wanted to write on this topic for a while, but it’s such a slippery slope. I tried to write on how girls always hate on others girls for the worst and pettiest reasons, but that could be interpreted as sexist. And now, as I try to grasp this particular social divide, I could look like a typical jock “bro” asshole.

Here’s where the circular mocking starts: It’s easy to get full of yourself when you accomplish something, and in college, it’s pretty easy to accomplish stuff: get an A on a paper, get a promotion for your club, run train in intramurals. It’s a simple theory: when you get full of yourself, you automatically get lower on others.

And when you get lower on others, you belittle them (whether you’re conscious of it or not), and when you belittle them, it will come back to bite you, one way or another.

We will not progress as a society until we accept that it is never all right to feel above someone else just because that person is different.

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