This is Epth Nation 2.7

Randumb (fake noun): A collection of disjointed links, thoughts, observations, until I get tired of typing this…

I’ve been listening to the new Waterdeep record, “In the Middle of It.”  I don’t know if it’s really an exciting new leap for them or a disappointing new leap for them, both, or neither.  Here’s the deal: Waterdeep is partially responsible for the greatest worship CD of all time (Enter the Worship Circle) and wholly responsible for the greatest Christian song of all time (18 Bullet Holes), so my expectations for them are extremely high.  I’m really not a person who gets all bent out of shape when Christian artists of any sort make things that are not specifically for the Christian subculture — in fact, I generally hate stuff that’s marketed at Christians, and the concept of Christian marketing in general — but it’s a little weird to hear Waterdeep play a hyper-produced record filled solely with songs about people who are dealing with life.  It’s a little weirder to hear them play songs that aren’t necessarily redemptive in nature.  It’s like a switch was flipped and they got all cynical and angry.  That’s not a bad thing, but like I said, it’s just weird.

I figure it’s a by-product of their move to Nashville to become record producers.  The music on In the Middle of It sounds like a production demo reel, which actually makes it a lot more fun to listen to than it would be if they had gone for the same sound as their past records.  Lori’s voice, which has always seemed like an acquired taste, is awesome here, mostly due to production.  They cover so many music genres that it’s obviously meant to say, “See?  We can produce any kind of record you want to make!”  Well, mission accomplished.  The music is fantastic across the board.

The lyrics, like I said, are another matter.  Gone is the redemption and the God who cares and searches; In their place are songs about people who are making bad choices and aren’t able to deal with their emotions.  There are some good lines, but the aversion to redemption makes most of the album kind of disposable.  I just expect to have my block knocked off by Waterdeep, and In the Middle of It didn’t even attempt to slap me in the face.  It’s like they wanted to dig deeper into people’s hearts, and ended up stopping right before the good part.  Not that it’s a bad album.   It’s just weird.  Here’s a lala sample:

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I’ve got another column up on thechristianmanifesto.com.  It’s about American Idol.  Please view it here:

http://www.thechristianmanifesto.com/index.php/2010/02/05/culture-blog-4-gokey/

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If these moderately attractive people are so discouraged with the current economy that they’re giving up the job hunt, what hope do I, an ugly duckling, have?  We are at the worst possible economic situation right now: Employers have all the power, and employees either have to put up with terrible conditions or be let go.  Nobody wants to be jobless in this market right now.  It’s not fun.

In related news, I got a job at Dominos two weeks ago.  I didn’t tell you because I…was busy doing other things.  But suffice to say I enjoy the job very much, and it’s way more profitable than it should be.  For now, I am being blessed at a quantum rate — decent enough job that I don’t hate, living in a great area with great people who haven’t decided to kick me out yet, getting the opportunity to write every day, my car still works, my clothes still fit, and soon I’ll be training for a marathon.

In also related news, Don Miller says I should be positive so I can manipulate somebody into loving me.  He’s seriously morphing into Joel Osteen.  And yes, my sarcastic tone in this paragraph does mean I’m a big fat jerk.  A big fat idealistic jerk.  Sorry.

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Back to jobs.  Obama was right when he said that Americans have a crisis of faith in their government right now.  I mean, I totally do.  It’s not going to get any better if they set out to prove (once again) that they have no idea how to create jobs in our current economy.  I’m convinced that small businesses, long-term thinking, encouraging innovation, and regulating the crap out of banks are the keys.  I don’t know what this makes me politically, so please stop trying to put me in your political box, man.

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I’m done.

This helpful picture totally explains last night's LOST

So, it’s quantum physics-esque “alternate realities,” eh?  That’s what it’s come to?  In some ways, I’m glad LOST is ending this year; there’s no telling what we’d get if those poor characters hung around for a seventh season.  Full-blown multiverses?  Flashes forward and back at the same time?  The mind boggles.

In all seriousness, though, I kid LOST because I love it so much.  There’s no other show as ambitious and crazy, and both those adjectives were in full force in the season six premiere last night.  You had the alternate universes, the devil (?) continuing to present himself as a dead guy, a whole new group of “Others” that we hadn’t seen before, Hurley seeing dead people, Miles talking to different dead people, and people coming back from the dead and talking.  Dead is dead?  Hmm…

I like how the show keeps coming back to core phrases that force the viewer to take a stand one way or the other — “dead is dead,” “you can’t change the future,” “live together, die alone,” “nothing is irreversible,” “you have a choice,” etc.  It gives LOST a framework on which to hang all the craziness.  Yes, Juliet died, but is dead really dead?  And where is she in the alternate timeline?  Why did old dirty dead Jacob tell Hurley to take the great Sayid to the temple, and not Juliet?  Is Jacob God, and the smoke monster the devil?  Where is the smoke monster’s home, exactly?  And if Jacob was, you know, a dude who could die, then can the smoke monster be killed?

But those are questions that nobody can answer right now.  So it goes with LOST.  My main problem with last night’s extravaganza, other than letting Juliet live for exactly one scene before killing her again, is that they’re cramming two separate timelines into one already-crowded show.  We’ve got sixteen more episodes to go, and now we have to deal with non-island versions of Kate and Jack and Locke and Boone and even Arzt and Frogurt (but not Shannon, or any tail section people — yet).  Sure, it was great to be reminded of what an inappropriately smiling buffoon Sawyer was when the plane crashed, but what purpose does it serve?  I trust the writers have a plan here, but what if it’s a bad one?

But enough nitpicking about things I don’t yet understand.  Here were the things I liked, in the order they come to my mind:

• Desmond showing up on the plane, then disappearing.  Gave me hope for the two timelines being merged back into one show, and that this might have been Jacob’s plan all along.  Also, I love Desmond.  “See you in another life, brotha” indeeed.
• In general, I liked the more confident/less shaken versions of the former characters.  Even Charlie seemed to know what his purpose was, even if that purpose was dying.
• Speaking of Charlie, I’ve got a (probably wrong) possible theory:  Just like Juliet seemed to grasp the fact that the bomb created an alternate timeline as she was dying, Charlie may have seen the first timeline when he “died” in the plane bathroom.  Perhaps that’s why he was staring holes through Jack as he left the plane — he knows Jack was responsible for the bomb, and therefore this whole new timeline.  When Chaz said, “I should have died” or whatever, he may have meant drowning in that underwater Dharma station.  Just throwin’ it out there.
• Sayid, as always, is awesome.  I like his way of making friends — offering to help by kicking in doors.  It’ll be interesting to see what exactly has changed about Mr. Sayid since his literal temporary death.  Is he now Jacob?  Unlikely, though he may have seen Jacob or something when he died.  Did the smoke monster take him over a la Locke?  Even less likely, due to the absence of a body, and there being no evidence that Smokey can appear as different people in different locations.  Did he just flat-out rise from the dead?  Well, he was dead, and now he’s not.  Perhaps he also got a glimpse of the whole story while he was dying or deceased.  I’m just glad he’s still around.
• The Jacob-Hurley conversation?  Awesome, and confirmed that Hurley does indeed see dead people.  Perhaps we should have seen this coming — Jacob told him as much in last season’s finale.  Nice callback, LOST.
• Kind of sad to see old jerky Jin again, telling Sun to button up her shirt and trying to sneak thousands of dollars past customs.  Sun’s dad is not going to be pleased.  So, does alternate-Sun still know English?  I like how they left that question open for interpretation.  I bet she does.
• Liked both Jacks more than I’ve ever liked Jack before — suffering confused Jack on the island, and old confident Jack the Fixer on the plane.  I never thought I’d say this, but I’m rooting for island Jack to get some redemption.  He hasn’t had a good day since season four.
• Well, they certainly put a fine point on the pathetic nature of the original Locke, didn’t they?  I like how he remains the spiritual heart of the both timelines, even though he’s dead and being impersonated in one of them.
• The Locke Becomes a Monster scene was probably the best one last night.  It confirmed what we thought we knew (namely, smoke monster=NotLocke=Jack’s dad=other people who died on the island), but also brought up a bunch of questions.  I’d like to see a Smoke Monster backstory built — was he confined to the cabin for a while?  Why did he chase the 815 survivors, starting in the pilot episode?  Why did he kill those he killed, like Mr. Eko?  Why was he referred to as “the island’s security system”?
• Ben better come up with a plan, and quick.  I hope he does, because Ben outsmarting the fake Locke would be an incredible plot twist.
• Kate’s cute, but I kinda wish she hadn’t commandeered a cab at gunpoint.  I’d like to think she learned her lesson, even if it was in another reality.  At least Claire was in the cab, though.  I liked how (just like Sun and English) they didn’t tell us whether or not she was pregnant.
• Finally, it was a nice contrast we saw between Hippie Others “It’s OK to Kill People” Cindy and Stewardess Cindy.  Good to have her back, and to get a plausible explanation as to where she was the last three years.  I wonder if Stewardess Cindy is still dating Gary Troup.

So, there you go.  I still don’t know what to think of all this, but I kinda like it.

I’ve been looking for jobs for a long time now, a process I’m just terrible at.  It involves wasting copious amounts of time on dead ends and red herrings.  It puts me in uncomfortable situations.  It forces me to spend way too much time trying (unsuccessfully, mind you) to read the mind of HR people, who are in turn trying (unsuccessfully, mind you) to determine whether or not I’d be a great employee.  Let me tell you right now:  I would be a great employee, no matter what job it is.  Unless you’re talking about something really executive, really technical, or really unethical, that is.  Everything else is something I’d be amazing at.  So, in many respects, this whole job hunt thing is just a race to find out the lucky person who gets to hire me, and thus, improve their organization in countless quantifiable and unspoken ways.  I’m smart, I learn things, I buy into company rhetoric, I execute directives, people seem to like me, and I got a 28 on my ACT back when the maximum score was 32.  At the risk of sounding cocky (and really, why stop now?), I would be a great hire for any organization looking to not suck.

But you can’t just say that, because it’s unprofessional.  It’s like the business world has chosen to wring honesty out of itself for the sake of preserving the status quo, which is mostly based on nepotism, class warfare, and trying to artificially make the positive-thinking dogma of The Secret a reality.  In that climate, I’m toast.

It doesn’t help that I only recently discovered that I’m called to be a writer.  The main reason it doesn’t help?  I’m totally unestablished in the writing sector (and using words like “unestablished” can’t be helping, btw), a place where it usually takes a long time to establish one’s self.  I’ve been gaining meaningful experience in the past three years, but it’s been in computer support.  Yeah, so has everybody else, apparently.  I’m convinced it’s nearly impossible to get a job in the technical world without one of those things I mentioned before, such as nepotism.  And here’s the important thing — not that I would really even want to get a job as a computer technician, at least if it wasn’t in the right company.  I really am a writer now, sad to say.  I know people support themselves in other ways as they get established in their careers, a la all the waitresses in Hollywood who are looking for their big break.  It’s part of dues-paying.  Or as I like to call it, “carving a hole in the wall of life and sleeping there like a badger until something better comes along.”

So I apply for these jobs that I’m overqualified for, and keep getting told (either explicitly or by impersonal and unprofessional silence) that I’m not qualified for them.  This has made me cynical, and bitter, and a giant ball of seething unprofessionalism.  HR representatives are the gatekeepers for me, and I can’t think of a way to explain my way out of the courtyard and through the gate.  Obviously, they’re not going to change.  What I need is somebody to take a chance on me, like Abba says.  If HR representatives change their mind about the kind of false qualifications one needs to get a job in IT, I’ll be first in line.  Honey, I’m still free.  Take a chance on me.

Look, I get it.  I know it’s hard for hiring managers in this current climate where everyone is underemployed and disloyal and looking for a new job.  Part of the blame lies with me and my inability to convince anyone that my work the last three years has actually prepared me to do tech support.  It’s hard to tell people that, yes, I believe I could figure out Novell e-Directory, or administration of a Citrix server, or how to enter support calls into a database, etc…and have them believe me.  Truth is, I’ve been having to figure out stuff like this on the fly for the last three years.  For some reason, nobody can see my point.  Again, all I need is a chance.

I’m going to put at least one book out in 2010, which will hopefully be the start of a long and fruitful career composing things that people actually read.  I’m probably going to go back to pizza delivery, because how else is a man supposed to support his writing habit these days?  That is, if I can find somebody to hire me for that job.  Even though I’ve only been doing it for 12 years, I feel I might be qualified.

No, not these heroes

Reading the “Celebrity Encounters” thread on a prominent internet forum has me thinking today about my current heroes and what they would be like if I met them.  I don’t typically idolize people, even people I enjoy, because I have this strict thing where I actually believe that all people are equally valuable.  It’s not just something I say or whatever, I believe it and try to live it.  But some people have done things that have meant a lot to me, and it’s only natural that I would stalk them, er, try to learn all I can about them.  This is the information age, after all.  And after learning about them, it’s only natural that I imagine what they’re like in real life, and what it would be like to hang out with them.  This behavior isn’t unique to me — judging by the forum thread I was reading (and about half the comments I see on blogs), other people do the same thing.  A lot*.

When I listened to The Ticket (radio station) in Dallas, the hosts would talk about their lives all the time as a way to connect with the audience.  Because they did this, it created a situation where their audience knew a lot of details about their lives, dreams, and personalities (or at least the ones they were portraying on-air), but the hosts obviously didn’t know anything about the individual audience members they met at station promotions.  This created a lot of awkward feelings for the hosts when they met fans.  The encounters felt like one hand in a handshake with nothing — a completely one-sided relationship.   I completely understood why the on-air personalities might find these events to be a giant uncomfortable beating, and when I went, I didn’t try to talk to them or get crap signed by their tired shaking hands.

My problem with meeting celebrities isn’t just me looking out for their little feelings, though.  I’m also painfully shy.  I hate talking to people I don’t know, because I’m phobically messed-up (that being a code-phrase for “unconfident in my ability to know what to say to people, and therefore afraid that I’ll say the wrong thing, or worse, nothing.  Trying to help, my friend told me once, “The thing you need to realize is that nobody is thinking about you, so if the worst happens, they still won’t be thinking about you.”  I intellectually know this, and can tell myself this, but it doesn’t help.  This would be why I added the phobically to the messed-up.)  So I have the barrier of shyness, the barrier of phobia, and the barrier of the unbalanced celebrity-fan dynamic.  Even if I saw a hero of mine, it’s unlikely that I’d do anything about it.  Or is it?

(Considering that I had the opportunity to get something signed by Joel Hodgson after a Cinematic Titanic show in St. Louis, and didn’t, I’d say yes, it’s pretty darn unlikely.  But call me the cowardly lion because I dream that one day I’ll get a heart.  Or something like it.)

Here are the people that I’d have a hard time resisting expressing my undying affection and love toward, if I ever saw them:

Writers: Since the deaths of Douglas Adams and David Foster Wallace, the only leg of the three-legged stool left to meet is Stephen King.  Everybody says he’s really nice, but I would be tempted to explain to him why the movie version of “The Shining” is better than the book, and how I’ve always wanted to write a sequel where a grown-up Danny Torrance tries to stop a corporation from building a hotel on the Overlook site, but they do anyway (and get predictable results).  The ensuing movie would star Sela Ward or Angie Harmon in the “crazy parent” role.  Yeah, sometimes my ideas are bad.

In pop culture-ish stuff, I’d go out of my way to shake hands with Bill Simmons, Chuck Klosterman, or Malcolm Gladwell.  For some reason, I don’t think they (or at least Klosterman) would like me.  Oh, wait, my phobia.  That’s why.  I’d explain to Gladwell why his chapter in “Outliers” about parents raising their kids to be successful was misguided, and he would counter that by saying that Outliers is, at its heart, a how-to book about achieving radical success.  It would be great.  I’d talk to Simmons about our mutual love for Wisconsin, and beat Klosterman down by telling him he’s the one writer who’s been able to put my feelings into words most consistently (besides DFW, of course).  This is why I think he won’t like me, I suppose.

Television:  I’d have a hard time resisting picking the brain of anybody who’s ever been associated with LOST, especially the creators/rulers of the show (Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse) and the actors who play Locke, Ben, Sayid, or Hurley.  I wouldn’t necessarily want to express my undying love to Jack or Sawyer, though — not sure why.  I’d love to talk to Kate or Charlie or Claire or even Mr. Eko.  Especially Mr. Eko.  There’s like 30 people from this show I’d like to meet.

I’d love to give Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant my glowing praise in person, even though Ricky’s an athiest and I’d want to talk him out of that.  I wouldn’t necessarily add any American Office people to the list, save John Krasinski, whom I’d berate with David Foster Wallace talk.  I’m sure there are other shows, but none that make me want to walk up to a celebrity and meet them.  For example, nobody involved with Alias, Freaks and Geeks, The Simpsons, or Arrested Development would make my list.  Well, maybe Martin Starr or Michael Cera.  But nobody else.  Ok, maybe Gob.

Movies:  Aside from TV crossovers like Cera and Gervais, you have director David Lynch, who would be fascinating to me for all sorts of reasons.  He’s into transcendental meditation, first of all.  Also, he’s the greatest director on the planet.  I would be totally intimidated by Quentin Tarantino for no discernible reason, but I would love to talk to him.  Ditto for Wes Anderson.  I think Jason Schwartzman would be really cool, and I would have a hard time resisting the opportunity to talk to Naomi Watts about Mulholland Drive.  Other than that, I don’t really get into movie stars too much.  At least not enough to overcome my crippling social anxiety.  There’s probably others that I’m missing here, actually.  But this is a blog post, not an encyclopedia, so I’m not going to fret about it.

Politics:  Nobody.  I don’t want to encourage them.

Music:  Sufjan Stevens, definitely.  My impression of him is that he’d be really cool to hang out with, but that may only be because he writes lyrics the way I want to write stories.  I’d love to meet Jason Martin from Starflyer 59, but would probably end up disappointed.  He’s probably nice, but quiet.  I’d like to know what Superstar Kid are doing now, but only like 5 people would get that joke, so I’ll probably edit it out later.  Cory Chisel slept on my couch once, but I don’t especially want to talk to him, except possibly to return the white tie he left behind.   The Danielson Familie would be fun to meet, and David Bazan would be fun to hang out with, I think (though possibly a little dark).  I’d like to personally ask Azure Ray why they broke up.  I would not like to meet, see, or interact with Saviour Machine in any way, however.

Sports: I don’t know.  Ray Allen would be great to meet and talk to, as would the chilled-out-seeming Andrew Bogut.  I can’t think of any other sports heroes right now, sorry.  I’ve decided to stop watching for a while, remember?

Others/Internet:  I love the work of the folks at Rocketboom, and would totally view them as approachable.  Amber MacArthur and her brother Jeff seem nice and Canadian.  The radio hosts on The Ticket would be great to meet in a venue other than Ticketstock, I think — especially Bob Sturm, with whom I could talk all things Packer football.

I’m done with this subject.

*Consider this 2007 Chuck Klosterman interview quote from NBA Man-of-the-hour Gilbert Arenas, on why he says all the weird stuff he does:

“Everybody wants to be the all-American boy,” he says. “But at the end of the day, America is not perfect. Normal blue-collar people understand this. That’s why everyone loved Larry Bird. Larry Bird could hit a game-winning shot and then get drunk with the locals. People want personality.” He adds: “My favorite player growing up was Penny Hardaway. Even though he was shy and didn’t talk very much, he had that ‘Li’l Penny’ character — those commercials he did with Chris Rock. That was funny. It’s the same now with those LeBron James commercials. You want to find out who these people actually are. You don’t want to hear them say, ‘I work hard,’ and all that stuff. Everybody has that story. I’d rather know what someone eats for dinner or what they order at Starbucks.”

After last night’s draining display of NFL failure by the Green Bay Packers (nice comeback, though, btw), I’ve decided that sports are stupid. This decision has been months in the making: Baseball has been dead to me for a long time now, and not even the Brewers making the playoffs last year could suck me back in to a sport that long ago abandoned me as a consumer. The NBA is in its January doldrums, and even if it wasn’t, their games are all rigged anyway. The spirit of NBA competition has died, slain by a system that rewards stars with calls so much that you can’t tell if the stars are actually stars or just good players who have been given artificial illumination. You can’t tell, therefore, if the narrative of the NBA is a lie. Hockey? Soccer? The World Cup is exciting, but not because of the actual play on the field. I’ll watch the Olympics, but probably not as much as I did in the past. Silly me, not being able to get past the fact that figure skating isn’t an actual sport.

Also, Tiger Woods may come back to golf, but golf will never be the same. Is it wrong for me to stiff-arm an entire sport because of society’s attitude toward its biggest star? I’m talking about the hero-worship. Why do we venerate success at all costs? What does this say about us? Hmm? And when our heroes show themselves to be the lowest of the low (off the field/court/course), why is the choice always to a) make excuses for them, or b) crucify them? Isn’t there a different way to view these things, one that views Tiger properly as the scum of the earth, but one that also realizes he’s just the product of a success-driven sports-crazed culture? If Tiger didn’t have a buhjillion dollars, there would be no Elin, no famous half-swedish Tiger-spawns, no Jamie Grubbs (unless you watched Tool Academy, that is), no 11-plus other mistresses, no debate on what constitutes a mistress, and no national race to be the first to say that when one has a buhjillion dollars, being a horrible person is not just understandable, but expected.

This is why they should cap the maximum amount athletes make. Of course, that’s a horrible idea. Also, it’s unconstitutional. But guess what? I don’t have to support these athletes and their sports. I don’t have to fuel their addictions with me money. In fact, I can anti-support them. I can sit all alone on here and criticize the behavior of athletes every day, and nobody can stop me. But they will try. They will call me a “hater.” They will say I’m “just jealous” of their money. They will call me a bitter, sad, old, washed-up never-was. And they might be right. However, the rightness or wrongness of their hateful chirping doesn’t change the validity of my criticisms, which I guarantee would be spot-on. Maybe I’ll start a satirical blog that says that all athletes are awesome all the time, and we should worship them and stop noticing their bad behavior. Only nobody would know its satirical, because it would just be expressing the prevailing wisdom around here these days. So you see why I have to give up and just not watch.

I’ll start watching again when the NCAA tournament comes around. I’ve, after all, got a pool to run. And those poor college basketball players probably don’t get all that much money, not even from the undoubtedly corrupt programs like Jim Calipari’s Kentucky. I might also watch women’s golf, because those girls don’t make crap. But any of the other sports can just suck it.