Author: JMBalaya

Blog entries should not be more than three paragraphs. That’s my “new thing.” Also the quotey-quotes, they still mean not the thing in the quotation marks. Even when you do the quotey-fingers it means not that thing. When you say this “guy” comes up to me, and you put the fingers around “guy,” it means not, in fact, a guy. It could be a woman dressed like a man but it cannot be an actual “guy.”

Couple things I’ve been thinking of being: luthier – guy who assembles guitars; cabinet maker; or possibly a cobbler but actually hand-make shoes not just fix them. The problem with each of these is that you have to be really good at them. No one wants a half-assed handmade guitar or shoe. And if you do that then you have to charge like lots of money for that shoe or guitar. That sounds like tons of marketing and self-promotion would be necessary.

I remind you that I have dandruff so that just doesn’t work for me.

As you can see by the overwhelming response to my live journal entry about blogs, I’ve touched a nerve.

(Disclaimer – I’m not a real person. I make up a lot of stuff.)

The web, to some, is this innately democratic thing. And things such as blogs are the way in which their voices are heard. At some point in the life cycle of anything that takes more than one person to make, like say an airplane, you need to let everyone talk and feel that they have had “input.” (Quotey-quotes around words mean that the stuff in the quotey-quotes are really a lie – it ain’t what we really mean.)

In the computer/software industry, you see this all the time. Most of the time, the moment passes and everyone forgets about it. But the latest versions of this manifest democracy are blogs, of which Live Journal is a big one, and wikis. I can understand the benefit the collective mind might demonstrate. However, in most larger efforts, you eventually need a king or some other kind of leader to arbitrate the final decisions. The idea of a committee designing a horse comes to mind.

The form of a blog, the way it looks and feels, seems a little different. It seems to be just another kind of personal website however. It doesn’t seem to be changing the world or at least not my world. I like having blog, on LiveJournal, as much as the next blogger, but I wouldn’t presume to think it is an outlet for me to influence the world.

For the record, that makes me better than most of you. Especially, you over there, the guy who doesn’t wear shoes in a public restroom. You do know you are standing in urine, right?

Is it officially over? The blog era? Have we concluded yet that not everyone should have a blog?

It strikes me that way. The number of brilliant writers hasn’t measurably increased and most blogs seem to be ways in which to share your current thoughts to a rather small set of people who already care about you and your dandruff.

It could be that I just don’t lead a very interesting life. Or, that I just don’t care that much for other people and what’s going on in their lives. I thought I would post more often than I do. It’s been nearly a year since my last post.

I could say that so much has happened but that would be utter bullshit. Nothing has happened. I get up. I check to see if I’ve had any profound thoughts. Answer is no. I go to work. That’s it.

So if there is anyone out there reading this, let me know. Is the blog era over?

JMB

Is it officially over? The blog era? Have we concluded yet that not everyone should have a blog?

It strikes me that way. The number of brilliant writers hasn’t measurably increased and most blogs seem to be ways in which to share your current thoughts to a rather small set of people who already care about you and your dandruff.

It could be that I just don’t lead a very interesting life. Or, that I just don’t care that much for other people and what’s going on in their lives. I thought I would post more often than I do. It’s been nearly a year since my last post.

I could say that so much has happened but that would be utter bullshit. Nothing has happened. I get up. I check to see if I’ve had any profound thoughts. Answer is no. I go to work. That’s it.

So if there is anyone out there reading this, let me know. Is the blog era over?

JMB

I am realizing that what’s missing from my recent life is any encouragement. I don’t mean the attaboy kind. I mean the actual positive feedback you expect when you change things in your life.

For instance, people go on diets. They expect to see results. Even if they don’t see it in the mirror, they regularly jump on scales and measure their various parts until they can proudly exclaim “I lost 25 pounds and 4 inches.”

Normally, I like that kind of evidence, material proof, something more than the vague notion that something is different. Most of time I distrust any “instinct” because most of the time that seems to lead to bad results. People tend to bring their own bias and filters to their perceptions. However, in an attempt to simplify my life, I have spurned validating each personal conclusion. That seems to be biting me in my ass.

My job is usually just a job to me. I do stuff and they pay me. It is a good bargain. Any personal satisfaction comes from knowing that I have done a good effort. I can find my own encouragement from that I moved from the beginning to the end of a job. However, right now, due to circumstances, I find myself swimming in circles. I feel like I’m making progress but I look up and don’t see anything different.

Homelife is the same. I have undertaken an exercise program and modified my diet. I have been exercising fairly consistently for over 4 years after a 5 year lay off. I pat myself on the back for that longevity. My physique, level of endurance, strength and flexibility haven’t really changed much of late. There was the initial success of going from zero to something, but that was so long ago. At least, none that I can sense nor measure.

There are a few things that I don’t seem to have time for. One of them is music. That has always been something that I did and simply enjoyed. I was unjudgemental about it most of the time. It is hard to engage even it right now.

This will pass. I just hope that I can keep a modicum of sanity until it does.

I have become fascinated with the word dude. The actor on SNL who used to play to copy guy, Rob Schneider, does a bit about the utility of the word dude. I don’t want steal his material but he details the incredible utility of the word dude. It is not nearly as useful as the word fuck, which as some of you know, can be any part of speech.

Dude has fascinated me as an interjection mostly. It is a very expressive word, but its use at the beginning of a sentence is the most interesting. By prefixing whatever you say with dude, you have license to interrupt and proceed with your own thoughts.

Albert Einstein himself could be delivering a talk on the theory of relativity and someone in the front row could say, “Dude, your fly is down.” and it would fine.

Some snob in the second row would nudge his friend and say, “can you believe it? He interrupted Einstein.”

His friend would shrug and say, “He said dude.”

“Oh, right.”

Even in the midst of a gaggle of surfers, it is completely appropriate etiquette to interrupt the height of any story to say, “Dude, you left your lights on.”

“Oh, right. Thanks, dude.”

Two paramedics are frantically performing CPR on a dying victim, someone in the crowd around them can say any of the following:

“Dude, your mom’s on the phone.”
“Dude, did you fart?”
“Dude, I’m gonna need to stop for gas.”
“Dude, that guy looks like a monkey.”

All of those would be met with tacit approval.

I don’t have a great new entry. In fact, I’m somewhat surprised on my lack of need to enter my innermost thoughts. I find the idea fascinating but hard to actually execute.

Frankly, most people’s innermost thoughts are either frightfully boring. Either that or they don’t tell it well. It isn’t the easiest thing in the world to be a writer, I guess.

Also, I find that apart from sharing information about my bodily functions, most of my thoughts are negative; they give voice to my inner dickhead. You know about the inner child, right? Well he’s a pussy, according to my the dickhead.

Negative is funny, often enough. If that weren’t true then there would not be so many Jackass shows or movies along the same thing. Survivor or any of that reality bullshit is all about who gets the shitty end of the stick first. And people love it!

So, I have made an effort to keep the inner dickhead in check. After all, how many more dickheads do we need? It seems that the inner dickhead already drives most cars so I don’t need to add to the level of intellectual dimness that is already there.

The flip-side is that a good many posts, absent the dickhead, will be sappy, over-dramatic claptrap – equally unreadable as yet another treatise on the death of civility. I don’t know what to make of all this. You tell me.

The haircut event itself is the problem. You have to talk to people and the pay them, usually a tip. I hate “the tip.” The tip should be banned. It tweaks my awkwardness to the utmost. Invariably, the hair cutter makes a comment about my dandruff, as if I don’t already feel self-conscious enough.

The rash, the dandruff – it all fits together. My body hates me. It is rebelling in an auto-immune way. It doesn’t bother me in a very deep way because, I reckon, I’m not that deep. But it is itchy and that gets irritating.

My ass is killing me. I have been sitting on it for hours and normally this doesn’t bother me. In fact, I like it. It is way better than standing for hours. But that’s work. Work kills your ass. Most of the time.

Do you ever have that annoying problem of should I get a haircut or not. I want to get one because hair is, as far as I can tell, a pain in the ass (see the theme?). If you cut it short you are some kind of skin-head deviant and if letting it grow long is not an option. The washing, the blow drying, the braiding, the constant application of mousse and other products. It just isn’t for me.

The rash now has spread. At first it was hardly noticeable, but now it is starting to peak out from beneath my shirt collar. My “counselor” says that it is all a by-product of my unhealthy attachment to certain recyclables. I’ve told her over and over that this could not possibly be the case. Afterall, I DO recycle the stuff eventually.

Those ketchup bottles (and that word always amuses and vexes me – is it catsup or whatever? you get the idea) are not polyethylene. There is no number on them. If they are not PE then they can’t legitimately be recycled! Failing to put numbers on them should be illegal and if I ever finish those letters to the state legislature it will be.

Anyway, the rash…I’ve been putting a diluted solution of vinegar, salt and water on the rash and that seems to help.