It seems only fitting that the leader of "The Dark Society"  have a computer with a supernatural element to it. Today, thanks to a helpful cousin and a generous coworker in IT, my three-weeks-gone laptop has returned from beyond the grave to compute once again! I don't know how long it will last (the hard drive is fading fast, but that just means I'll be saving to my USB drive); nevertheless, it's a welcome sight to see my resurrected laptop working once again, proudly embarking on its second life after most had left it for dead.

Hopefully it will hold me over until I can scrape together the remainder of the dough to get a new one.


 

True story from this morning:

I'm running just a few minutes late to work. My wife, already at work, calls and says she forgot something. The school she works at is in the same direction as I go, but it's not exactly on the way. It wasn't a critical item either; I could run it by her school (and make myself twenty minutes or so later), or I could say, "Sorry honey!" and be on my way. I opted for the former, deciding to be a good husband and help her out.

Not two blocks from her school parking lot after I drop off what she needs, a funny smell starts coming from the engine of my car. Then steam starts to pour out from under the hood and the temperature gauge is quickly climbing toward the red. At the intersection I stop at, there's actually an auto repair place... and it's open! While I was waiting for my car to be fixed, I checked the reviews on Yelp and it turns out that this is one of the highest-rated mechanics in the area.

It ended up being my radiator that was busted, which they replaced for a reasonable price with OEM parts. This place offers a three-year warranty (standard is one year) on all their work for free, and are known for dropping you off and picking you up free of charge (they've even dropped customers off in Burbank - more than 50 miles away!), and will give you a car to use at their expense if they have to keep yours for more than a day. Oh, and since I was rushed this morning, he wants me to bring the car back after a few hundred miles so he can check the work to make sure it's holding up and give the car a more thorough evaluation... free of charge. Hell, most impressive of all is that he replaced the entire radiator and all the engine fluids in under four hours! Last time I had that done to one of my past cars, it was a 2-3 day affair. And did I mention that he even washed my car while it was being fixed?

Even though I had to pay a big chunk of money and ended up losing most of my morning to car repairs, I was able to get lunch with my wife (which never happens since we work 40 miles apart), and I can't help but think that - had I been selfish and just gone to work without bothering to bring something to my wife - I would have been stranded on the side of the freeway somewhere, would have needed a truck to tow me to who-knows-what mechanic in the middle of nowhere that might or might not have been able to fix it right then and there, and wouldn't have found such a great mechanic that's actually semi-convenient for us.

{e:karmic_fistpump}



 

I was going to write my own writing resolutions this year, but this guy beat me to it. If you want a good kick in the pants (and don't mind a little crude language), behold:


http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2012/01/03/25-things-writers-should-stop-doing/


Reposted here:

1. Stop Running Away

Right here is your story. Your manuscript. Your career. So why the fuck are you running in the other direction? Your writing will never chase you — you need to chase your writing. If it's what you want, then pursue it. This isn't just true of your overall writing career, either. It's true of individual components. You want one thing but then constantly work to achieve its opposite. You say you want to write a novel but then go and write a bunch of short stories. You say you're going to write This script but then try to write That script instead. Pick a thing and work toward that thing.

2. Stop Stopping

Momentum is everything. Cut the brake lines. Careen wildly and unsteadily toward your goal. I hate to bludgeon you about the head and neck with a hammer forged in the volcanic fires of Mount Obvious, but the only way you can finish something is by not stopping. That story isn't going to unfuck itself.

3. Stop Writing In Someone Else's Voice

You have a voice. It's yours. Nobody else can claim it, and any attempts to mimic it will be fumbling and clumsy like two tweens trying to make out in a darkened broom closet. That's on you, too — don't try to write in somebody else's voice. Yes, okay, maybe you do this in the beginning. But strive past it. Stretch your muscles. Find your voice. This is going to be a big theme at the start of 2012 — discover those elements that comprise your voice, that put the author in your authority. Write in a way that only you can write.

4. Stop Worrying

Worry is some useless shit. It does nothing. It has no basis in reality. It's a vestigial emotion, useless as — as my father was wont to say — "tits on a boar hog." We worry about things that are well beyond our control. We worry about publishing trends or future advances or whether or not Barnes & Noble is going to shove a hand grenade up its own ass and go kablooey. That's not to say you can't identify future trouble spots and try to work around them — but that's not worrying. You recognize a roadblock and arrange a path around it — you don't chew your fingernails bloody worrying about it. Shut up. Calm down. Worry, begone.

5. Stop Hurrying

The rise of self-publishing has seen a comparative surge forward in quantity. As if we're all rushing forward to squat out as huge a litter of squalling word-babies as our fragile penmonkey uteruses (uteri?) can handle. Stories are like wine; they need time. So take the time. This isn't a hot dog eating contest. You're not being judged on how much you write but rather, how well you do it. Sure, there's a balance — you have to be generative, have to be swimming forward lest you sink like a stone and find remora fish mating inside your rectum. But generation and creativity should not come at the cost of quality. Give your stories and your career the time and patience it needs. Put differently: don't have a freak out, man.

6. Stop Waiting

I said "stop hurrying," not "stand still and fall asleep." Life rewards action, not inertia. What the fuck are you waiting for? To reap the rewards of the future, you must take action in the present. Do so now.

7. Stop Thinking It Should Be Easier

It's not going to get any easier, and why should it? Anything truly worth doing requires hella hard work. If climbing to the top of Kilimanjaro meant packing a light lunch and hopping in a climate-controlled elevator, it wouldn't really be that big a fucking deal, would it? You want to do This Writing Thing, then don't just expect hard work — be happy that it's a hard row to hoe and that you're just the, er, hoer to hoe it? I dunno. Don't look at me like that. AVERT YOUR GAZE, SCRUTINIZER. And get back to work.

8. Stop Deprioritizing Your Wordsmithy

You don't get to be a proper storyteller by putting it so far down your list it's nestled between "Complete the Iditarod (but with squirrels instead of dogs)" and "Two words: Merkin, Macrame." You want to do this shit, it better be some Top Five Shiznit, son. You know you're a writer because it's not just what you do, but rather, it's who you are. So why deprioritize that thing which forms part of your very identity?

9. Stop Treating Your Body Like A Dumpster

The mind is the writer's best weapon. It is equal parts bullwhip, sniper rifle, and stiletto. If you treat your body like it's the sticky concrete floor in a porno theater (that's not a spilled milkshake) then all you're doing is dulling your most powerful weapon. The body fuels the mind. It should be "crap out," not "crap in." Stop bloating your body with awfulness. Eat well. Exercise. Elsewise you'll find your bullwhip's tied in knots, your stiletto's so dull it couldn't cut through a glob of canned pumpkin, and someone left peanut-butter-and-jelly in the barrel of your sniper rifle.

10. Stop The Moping And The Whining

Complaining — like worry, like regret, like that little knob on the toaster that tells you it'll make the toast darker — does nothing. (Doubly useless: complaining about complaining, which is what I'm doing here.) Blah blah blah, publishing, blah blah blah, Amazon, blah blah blah Hollywood. Stop boo-hooing. Don't like something? Fix it or forgive it. And move on to the next thing.

11. Stop Blaming Everyone Else

You hear a lot of blame going around — something-something gatekeepers, something-something too many self-published authors, something-something agency model. You're going to own your successes, and that means you're also going to need to own your errors. This career is yours. Yes, sometimes external factors will step in your way, but it's up to you how to react. Fuck blame. Roll around in responsibility like a dog rolling around in an elk miscarriage. Which, for the record, is something I've had a dog do, sooooo. Yeah. It was, uhhh, pretty nasty. Also: "Elk Miscarriage" is the name of my indie band.

12. Stop The Shame

Writers are often ashamed at who they are and what they do. Other people are out there fighting wars and fixing cars and destroying our country with poisonous loans — and here we are, sitting around in our footy-pajamas, writing about vampires and unicorns, about broken hearts and shattered jaws. A lot of the time we won't get much respect, but you know what? Fuck that. Take the respect. Writers and storytellers help make this world go around. We're just as much a part of the societal ecosystem as anybody else. Craft counts. Art matters. Stories are important. Freeze-frame high-five. Now have a beer and a shot of whisky and shove all your shame in a bag and burn it.

13. Stop Lamenting Your Mistakes

Yeah, yeah, yeah. So you fucked up somewhere along the way. Who gives a donkey's duodenum? Shit happens. Shit washes off. Don't dwell. Don't sing lamentations to your errors. Repeat after me: learn and move on. Very few mistakes will haunt you till your end of days unless you let it haunt you. That is, unless your error was so egregious it can never be forgotten ("I wore a Hitler outfit as I went to every major publishing house in New York City and took a poop in every editor's desk drawer over the holiday. Also, I may have put it on Youtube and sent it to Galleycat. So... there's that").

14. Stop Playing It Safe

Let 2012 be the year of the risk. Nobody knows what's going on in the publishing industry, but we can be damn sure that what's going on with authors is that we're finding new ways to be empowered in this New Media Future, Motherfuckers (hereby known as NMFMF). What that means is, it's time to forget the old rules. Time to start questioning preconceived notions and established conventions. It's time to start taking some risks both in your career and in your storytelling. Throw open the doors. Kick down the walls of your uncomfortable box. Carpet bomb the Comfort Zone so that none other may dwell there.

15. Stop Trying To Control Shit You Can't Control

ALL THAT out there? All the industry shit and the reviews and the Amazonian business practices? The economy? The readers? You can't control any of that. You can respond to it. You can try to get ahead of it. But you can't control it. Control what you can, which is your writing and the management of your career.

16. Stop Doing One Thing

Diversification is the name of survival for all creatures: genetics relies on diversification. (Says the guy with no science background and little interest in Googling that idea to see if it holds any water at all.) Things are changing big in these next few years, from the rise of e-books to the collapse of traditional markets to the the galactic threat of Mecha-Gaiman. Diversity of form, format and genre will help ensure you stay alive in the coming entirely-made-up Pubpocalypse.

17. Stop Writing For "The Market"

To be clear, I don't mean, "stop writing for specific markets." That's silly advice. If you want to write for the Ladies' Home Journal, well, that's writing for a specific market. What I mean is, stop writing for The Market, capital T-M. The Market is an unknowable entity based on sales trends and educated guess-work and some kind of publishing haruspicy (at Penguin, they sacrifice actual penguins — true story!). Writing a novel takes long enough that writing for the market is a doomed mission, a leap into a dark chasm with the hopes that someone will build a bridge there before you fall through empty space. Which leads me to –

18. Stop Chasing Trends

Set the trends. Don't chase them like a dog chasing a Buick. Trends offer artists a series of diminishing returns — every iteration of a trend after the first is weaker than the last, as if each repetition is another ice cube plunked into a once strong glass of Scotch. You're just watering it down, man. Don't be a knock-off purse, a serial killer copycat, or just another fantasy echo of Tolkien. Do your own thing.

19. Stop Caring About What Other Writers Are Doing

They're going to do what they're going to do. You're not them. You don't want to be them and they don't want to be you. Why do what everyone else is doing? Let me reiterate: do your own thing.

20. Stop Caring So Much About The Publishing Industry

Know the industry, but don't be overwhelmed by it. The mortal man cannot change the weave and weft of cosmic forces; they are outside you. Examine the publishing industry too closely and it will ejaculate its demon ichor in your eye. And then you'll have to go to the eye doctor and he'll be all like, "You were staring too long at the publishing industry again, weren't you?" And you're like, "YES, fine," and he's like, "Well, I have drops for that, but they'll cost you," and you get out your checkbook and ask him how many zeroes you should fill in because you're a writer and don't have health care. *sob*

21. Stop Listening To What Won't Sell

You'll hear that. "I don't think this can sell." And shit, you know what? That might be right. Just the same — I'd bet that all the stories you remember, all the tales that came out of nowhere and kicked you in the junk drawer with their sheer possibility and potential, were stories that were once flagged with the "this won't sell" moniker. You'll always find someone to tell you what you can't do. What you shouldn't do. That's your job as a writer to prove them wrong. By sticking your fountain pen in their neck and drinking their blood. ...uhh. I mean, "by writing the best damn story you can write." That's what I mean. That other thing was, you know. It was just metaphor. Totally. *hides inkwell filled with human blood*

22. Stop Overpromising And Overshooting

We want to do everything all at once. Grand plans! Sweeping gestures! Epic 23-book fantasy cycles! Don't overreach. Concentrate on what you can complete. Temper risk with reality.

23. Stop Leaving Yourself Off The Page

You are your stories and your stories are you. Who you are matters. Your experiences and feelings and opinions count. Put yourself on every page: a smear of heartsblood. If we cannot connect with our own stories, how can we expect anybody else to find that connection?

24. Stop Dreaming

Fuck dreaming. Start doing. Dreams are great — uh, for children. Dreams are intangible and uncertain looks into the future. Dreams are fanciful flights of improbability — pegasus wishes and the hopes of lonely robots. You're an adult, now. It's time to shit or get off the pot. It's time to wake up or stay dreaming. Let me say it again because I am nothing if not a fan of repetition: Fuck dreaming. Start doing.

25. Stop Being Afraid

Fear will kill you dead. You've nothing to be afraid of that a little preparation and pragmatism cannot kill. Everybody who wanted to be a writer and didn't become one failed based on one of two critical reasons: one, they were lazy, or two, they were afraid. Let's take for granted you're not lazy. That means you're afraid. Fear is nonsense. What do you think is going to happen? You're going to be eaten by tigers? Life will afford you lots of reasons to be afraid: bees, kidnappers, terrorism, being chewed apart by an escalator, Republicans, Snooki. But being a writer is nothing worthy of fear. It's worthy of praise. And triumph. And fireworks. And shotguns. And a box of wine. So shove fear aside — let fear be gnawed upon by escalators and tigers. Step up to the plate. Let this be your year.


I don't know about you... but that was pretty inspiring in a deranged kind of way.

Well, my goal for 2011 was to read more books than I did in 2010... and I read eleven more than last year. At 44 total for the year, I'm still a few short of my goal of 50, but well over my other goal of beating last year's record of 33. For anyone who's interested, here's what I read this year:

FICTION

Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter by Seth Graeme-Smith
Breaking Dawn by Stephenie Meyer
Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas
Crooked Little Vein by Warren Ellis
Deadly Honeymoon by Lawrence Block
Death Match by Lincoln Child
Dracula by Bram Stoker
Fantasy Lover by Sherrilyn Kenyon
Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J. K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by J. K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by J. K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J. K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J. K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J. K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J. K. Rowling
Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams
Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
I Am Legend by Richard Matheson
Impact by Douglas Preston
Left Behind by Tim LaHaye & Jerry Jenkins
Lost Symbol by Dan Brown
Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden
Moby Dick by Herman Melville
Paradise Lost by John Milton
Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut
Stormbreaker by Anthony Horowitz


NONFICTION

1776 by David McCullough
5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman
Blink by Malcolm Gladwell
Brain Rules by John Medina
Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed by Jared Diamond
Crime Beat by Michael Connelly
Decision Points by George W. Bush
Decoded by Jay-Z
Delivering Happiness by Tony Hsieh
Devil in the White City by Erik Larson
Drive by Daniel Pink
Greater Journey: Americans in Paris by David McCullough
Moneyball by Michael Lewis
Poetics by Aristotle
New New Thing by Michael Lewis
Wanderlust: A Love Affairs with Five Continents by Elisabeth Eaves
What the Dog Saw by Malcolm Gladwell


There are a lot of amazing books in that list... it was a very good year for quality writing (excepting Breaking Dawn, of course). But if I had to pick my three favorite books of the year, I think they would be Crooked Little Vein for its sheer bizarreness and ability to offend just about every sensibility any reader might have; Devil in the White City for a true serial killer story that rivals anything fiction can create; and Memoirs of a Geisha for being one of the most vivid and evocative books I've read in a long time. I highly recommend all three (although the first two only to those with a strong stomach).

It was really difficult to pick favorites out of this list... they were all remarkable in their own way. If anybody wants any other recommendations or additional details about any of the books, just let me know.

2012 Reading Goal: 50 books, more nonfiction than fiction.

 

It's hard to believe I've officially been on this planet for three decades. The first one is admittedly a little hazy; the last two are certainly more memorable, but places that I'm definitely ready to leave behind. The twenties, at least for me, were tough. I'd imagined they'd be carefree and fun; finally free of my parents' rules, out of school and earning my own money, and ready to make a name for myself in the world.

Of course, along with it comes paying your own bills, solving your own problems, and making your own mistakes. It's a tough economy to just get by, let alone ascend the ranks of the professional world and make a name for oneself. Salaries are down while costs are up, and even making ends meet is often a struggle these days. I finally had to admit to myself (at about 11:55pm the night before my birthday because I'm an eternal optimist and a big fan of the Hail Mary play) that I'm not going to be able to retire as a multimillionaire by the time I'm 30.

The twenties were the decade where I got married... but also where I had to deal with the drama of a wedding. The decade where I got my first full-time paycheck at a job... but also had to pay rent and utilities. The decade where I can choose where I live and what I do... but also had to admit that sacrifices have to be made if you want to make ends meet.

I'm actually looking forward to my thirties. The decade where I have a solid resume of work experience that (hopefully) allows me to grow in a job that doesn't involve answering phones, making copies, or filing all day. The decade where my wife and I have the money to live in a decent place and still save up to one day have a house. The decade where we hopefully start a family. The decade where we can travel more, and not worry quite so often about whether we can afford to pay the bills, or fix the car when its brake pads need to be replaced.

There are a lot of things that were good about the twenties. But I think there will be a lot of things that are good about my thirties as well. I'm ready for a change.

 

It's Thanksgiving today, so I thought it appropriate to take a few moments and share what I'm thankful for this year.

I'm thankful for being financially independent. The economy is still a long way from recovering, and although it would be easy to complain about the long hours, the horrendous commute, or the fact that I'm making less than I was a couple years ago, the fact is that my wife and I are both employed, we both enjoy what we do for the most part, and we make enough money to pay the bills and even put a little away for the things we love like travel. I'm thankful for that, and I can only hope that the economy improves in 2012 so that everyone can enjoy this same blessing.

I'm thankful for my friends, and especially for my wife. It's a rare thing in this world to find someone who will truly accept you and love you for who you are. I'm incredibly thankful to all the people in my life who know all my faults and quirks and issues and for some reason are still there for me when I need them. Each and every one of them deserve to be celebrated and I hope that everyone has at least one person in their life who accepts them, loves them, and celebrates everything that they are.

I'm thankful for my health. I could be in better shape and, sure, I was just in the hospital this week to have a couple of questionable bumps and lumps removed, but I'm approaching my 30th birthday having relatively few health issues. I'm grateful for the fact that I still have the physical ability to do almost anything I want to do, and I'm blessed to (hopefully) still have enough years left to do all the things I want to do before I depart from this world.

I'm thankful for the freedoms and liberties that we enjoy. There are a lot of places in this world where people don't have the freedoms that we enjoy. As much as we might complain about who's in the Oval Office, or which idiots voted to pass which laws, or how unfair the 1% have it... in most cases we have the freedom to live where we want to live, do what we want to do, love who we want to love, worship who we want to worship, and vote for what we believe in. I'm thankful for the fact that, despite all of the faults our country may have and all of the wrongs that still need to be righted, most people have the freedom to be themselves.

So, after just over a year, I get to go back to the hospital for surgery. Don't worry... nothing serious... just have to have a couple of questionable bumps removed. They're most likely cysts, but I'd like to be sure, so the surgeon is going to make sure he removes all of them and then will stick them under a microscope to see what's up. I guess you could say that I liked the surgeon who did my appendectomy so much that I decided to go back for more!

Thankfully it's an outpatient procedure this time; I'm going in early Monday morning and I should be home by dinner time, if not sooner. Apparently the hospital rule is that you have to walk, talk, and urinate before they'll discharge you, so we'll have to see how efficiently I can accomplish those tasks and then I should be back home, propped up with a bunch of pillows and munching on painkillers for the duration of the week.
 

I'm posting something on my blog right now because I want to get rid of my incessant reminder to update my blog, which taunts me by reminding me daily that it's been 34 days since I last posted. Here's a quick summary of what I've been up to lately:

Work
Work
Work
Family Stuff
Work
Reading (currently on my 40th book of the year... blew past my record from last year!)
NaNoWriMo Write-A-Thon (currently underway, but decided not to write a novel myself this year)
Started a screenplay project

That's about all there is to it these days. I'm taking the entire week of Thanksgiving off, so looking forward to nine days of no work, and no school (for my wife). We're not visiting family or having family visit; just relaxing and having a nice holiday just the two of us.

 

If you ask me, there are few things better than rooting through the bargain books section at your local bookstore chain and finding a gem that's not only interesting, but heavily discounted. Yesterday I was at Barnes & Noble, picking up The Outsiders and The Freedom Writers' Diary for my wife for her classes, and I couldn't help but do a little perusing for myself. I found three books: a novel that sounded mildly interesting which I purchased for $1.78, a Pulitzer Prize-winning author's memoir/collection of essays which I had been meaning to read and purchased for the princely sum of $1.29... and this book, which cost me a whole $6, but fascinated me:

That's right, folks... it's back up and running!

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NaNoWriMo Write-A-Thon  [ASR] A NaNoWriMo fundraiser... compete as a NaNo writer or donate by sponsoring one! by SoCalScribe is 9 tomorrow!

For those of you who may not have heard the news (or received the email if you're a subscriber), Netflix will soon be splitting their streaming video service and their DVD-by-mail service. The two were previously integrated on the same service with the same bill, but will now be separated. Netflix is going to be the name of the streaming service, and Qwikster will be the name of the DVD-by-mail service.

The financial perspective isn't what bothers me. There will now be two separate charges from two separate services (since I subscribe to both), but the total amount being charged by both services won't be any higher than it currently is. In that respect, I don't have a problem.

Where I do have a problem is that splitting these two services effectively destroys the integration they once enjoyed. Right now, I can go onto the Netflix website and look at both my queue of saved movies that are available for streaming, and my queue of saved movies that are available to be sent to me via mail. More importantly, when I'm looking up a movie, I can see whether it's available instantly or by mail and can add it to either queue. And even more importantly than that, it tells me when a movie is available instantly (since the choice is more limited by the DVD-by-mail option). Thus, if I'm browsing through my queue of DVD-by-mail titles and I see one near the top that's now available instantly, I can move it down the list or actually watch it without having to worry that I'm going to get something in the mail that I could be watching instantly at home.

Apparently Netflix is done with that. Netflix and Qwikster will be two separate services with two separate websites. No integration whatsoever. Which means that, if you're like me and are interested in the most efficient way of watching movies possible (i.e. you look up a movie and watch it on instant if available, and order it by mail if not), you now have to check two different websites and maintain two different queues which have absolutely nothing to do with one another.

Megan McArdle wrote a very astute article on this issue for The Atlantic:

It's been awhile since I've ranted about anything in my blog, so here goes (you've been warned ):

What really gets to me is when the media blows something completely out of proportion, just so they have something to talk about. I'm sure living in a big city exacerbates the problem, but it seems like every time I turn on the news or read an article, everybody's jumping to extreme conclusions just so there's something to talk about in what would otherwise be a relatively brief and unforgettable moment.

Take the case of Roger Federer for example. (I'm using tennis because the U.S. Open is wrapping up.) Despite what you may think of the man personally, or perhaps more accurately, whether you buy into the "Greatest of All Time" argument or not, there's no question that the man has had an exceptional tennis career. He holds the following records (most grand slam titles (16), most consecutive weeks at number one (237), most consecutive grand slam titles (5 Wimbledon, 5 U.S. Open), most consecutive semifinal appearances (23... the previous record was 10), most consecutive quarterfinal appearance (30 - and still counting), one of only seven players to win a career grand slam (winning all four grand slam events), and trust me... the list goes on and on. If not truly the greatest tennis player of all time, certainly one of the greatest, and definitely the most consistent.

The problem is now Roger's on the back nine of his career. He just turned 30 this year, he has a family now, and there's not a whole lot left in tennis that he hasn't accomplished. He's not displaying the sheer dominance that he did in his best years where he was all but unbeatable, and now every time he loses a match, commentators and journalists start talking about how he's finished. How he'll never win another slam or how he just doesn't have what it takes anymore.

The thing is, he's still regularly making it to the quarterfinals or semifinals... which means he's making it into the final eight (or four) players from a competition that starts with 128... every single time. He's still the #3 ranked player in the world, and when he loses, it's rarely to anyone who's not the #1 or #2 player (both of whom are six years younger than he is and in the prime of their careers), and almost never to anyone outside the Top 15 players. Most importantly, it's not like the matches are complete blowouts either. Yesterday's semifinal against Novak Djokovic went to 7-5 in the fifth set... one game short of a deciding tiebreaker. Federer even held match points toward the end (but couldn't convert). Djokovic, by comparison, is 24 years old and... at 63-2 with 10 (possibly 11 if he win the U.S. Open on Monday) titles... is having one of the most astounding years in tennis history. And Federer almost beat him. Djokovic has been decimating opponents left and right, and Federer nearly beat him yesterday. Not to mention that one of those two losses was the work of Federer. (The other one was a retirement, which means Federer is actually the only one to have beaten him outright this year).

Sure, maybe Roger's not #1 at the moment, and maybe he's not dominating every event like he used to... but he's still right up there with the best players in the world. So the fact that he just barely lost a semifinal match to the #1 player in the world... or that 2011 is the first year since 2002 that he hasn't won a grand slam... is a bit premature to say that his career is all but over. And yet, the commentators and the media... every time he loses a match or doesn't win a title, starts talking about how his days are numbered. I just don't understand why it always has to be all or nothing. You're either the best of the best, or you might as well throw in the towel. There is no middle ground anymore.

But sensationalism isn't just in sports and for competitive athletes.

In 2005, there was a train wreck in Glendale, California that involved someone abandoning their vehicle on the tracks. Supposedly, the vehicle's owner intended to commit suicide, then changed his mind and abandoned the vehicle on the tracks. Unfortunately, it was on the tracks of a commuter train, which was derailed and killed 11 people. It was a pretty awful incident, but it was made infinitely worse by the local news stations, one of which even had a "Killer Train Week" where they had all kinds of interviews and special reports about how dangerous trains are... including a live re-enactment of an old train running into a car and derailing. All week they talked about how dangerous trains are, and how trains need to be made less dangerous for the public's safety... all because there was an awful train wreck that was caused by an idiot parking his car across the tracks. It boggled my mind that they basically downplayed the entire accident itself, because they were more interested in scaring the hell out of people about train safety.

And then, of course, there was Carmageddon.

If you didn't hear about that, the busiest freeway in the United States is Los Angeles' 405 Freeway, which sees more than half a million cars a day drive over it. They needed to close the freeway to work on an overpass. The freeway was closed from Friday night at midnight to the middle of the night on Sunday night... well outside the window for commuter traffic. Naturally, they made announcements months in advance, advising people to stay away from the freeway that weekend. But as it got closer, the media started releasing reports that sent people into a frenzy. People were theorizing that you'd get stuck on the freeway for twelve hours if you ran into traffic; hospitals put up their doctors and nurses in nearby hotels so they wouldn't have to drive home; some people rented helicopters to get them around town that weekend; even the mayor told people to get out of town if they could, or at least avoid leaving the house, as if it we were in a state of emergency or something.

I think it's sad that people feel the need to play up stories, jump to conclusions, and stir people up. I miss the times when the news was just the news... objective reporting and semi-objective reporting, where the goal was to inform rather than to scare, rile, agitate, or concern.

 

I was helping my wife look for videos for her class tonight and I came across the following motivational/inspirational video, about what it takes to become really successful:

You know how the Google search engine will auto-complete what you type into its search box? For example, if you start typing, "Where can I..." it will provide a list of the most commonly searched options below which you can navigate down to and hit Enter to auto-complete. It might have a list like, "Where can I... find a good doctor / get a good deal on a used car / etc."

Have you ever actually started the first few words of a common search just to see what Google's most frequent searches are? If you haven't had the pleasure, here are a few:

What do I...
         want to eat
         do with my life

How many times...
         have I been Googled
         can the doctor regenerate

Where is...
         my refund
         Chuck Norris
         the love
         my mind

Are there...
         bears in Big Bear
         any gay NFL players
         any cities in Antarctica

Why can't...
         I own a Canadian
         I hold all these limes

Why does my...
         mom turn me on

When is it okay to...
         cross a double yellow line

When are there...
         coupons in the Sunday paper

Is it okay to...
         have a centipede in my [lady parts]
         eat ants
         give my dog Benadryl
         kill
         microwave this

Really people?

Maybe Stephen King was right when he said, "I think that we're all mentally ill. Those of us outside the asylums only hide it a little better - and maybe not all that much better after all."


 

Brooke-Reading Dear Me Letters shared this link with me today:

The Angel Army was kind enough to elect me an Angel of the Month for July 2011. Here's my pretty plaque:

Saturday night, my wife and I went to a concert at The Hollywood Bowl. Sarah McLachlan performed with the Hollywood Bowl Orchestra, and it was incredible. The Hollywood Bowl Orchestra began with some selected classical pieces, then Sarah performed several of her songs, the Orchestra did a few more pieces, and Sarah closed out the show with some more of her songs. It was an incredible night of music; hearing popular songs with the backing of a full orchestra was quite a treat.

What particularly impressed my wife and I was how classy the whole affair was. It was more akin to a classical concert at a music hall than a rock concert at an amphitheater. We were much younger than the median audience age, and the program had a feeling of sophistication and elegance.

And yet that still didn't stop someone in the vicinity of our seats from lighting a joint and reeking of marijuana for the entire second half of the concert. Really? During Sarah McLachlan and an orchestral performance? I mean, it's not like we're watching Kid Rock or something. Could you imagine someone getting high during a symphony at Carnegie Hall? (Please don't answer that if you have... I want to preserve my fond memories of New York. )

I have to admit that Sarah McLachlan isn't my favorite artist... but the concert was excellent. She's an amazing performer live, and the full orchestra backing her was a real treat. In fact, the only bad thing about the whole evening was the parking. The Hollywood Bowl has stall-style parking, where rows and rows of cars park bumper-to-bumper in a line easily 50 cars deep. Which means that you're not going anywhere until all the cars can leave together. We spent 40 minutes waiting because one car was still parked in our lane and we couldn't get out until they came back.

Fortunately, there's a Park & Ride program that allows us to get a shuttle at any of a dozen locations (including one twenty minutes from our apartment), and it's only $5. Seems like a better deal than paying $16 to park and have to wait until thousands of people collectively decide to leave together.

All in all, though, it was a wonderful concert. The Hollywood Bowl actually allows you to bring food in, and several people around us brought picnics with them. There are quite a few good shows coming up, including John Williams conducting some of his Academy Award-winning scores, Blues night, and Moulin Rouge night (with fireworks) to close the summer concert series. We'll definitely be going again.

 

This weekend, they're shutting down one of the freeways in Los Angeles to do some major construction work. Granted, I-405 is reportedly the busiest freeway in the nation, and the construction they're doing involves closing a 10-mile stretch which happens to be the busiest section of said freeway (it's the section that connects the valley to the west side of Los Angeles, cutting through the Santa Monica Mountains), with some 500,000 vehicles traveling over it on an average day, but it's actually been dubbed "Carmageddon" by the media and people are positively freaking out over how bad the traffic is going to be.

They close the freeway at midnight tonight, and will reopen it at 5am on Monday morning... theoretically more than enough time to avoid any kind of actual weekday rush hour traffic, but even the mayor of Los Angeles is telling people to stay home or get out of town, avoid traveling long distances at any cost, etc. Business on the west side are closing down for the weekend; UCLA's medical center is keeping physicians overnight in nearby hotels; they're setting up emergency response teams just in case... the way the city is mobilizing, you'd swear we were headed for a zombie apocalypse or The Rapture or something.

It's just a freeway closing. For one weekend.

I was late coming into work today (got in around lunch time) and coworkers and friends that I spoke to during the drive were anxiously asking me, "My God, what's it like out there?" "Is it okay?" "How bad is it?"

I'm tempted to start telling people, "Oh yeah, it's awful. Cars abandoned on the freeway. People rioting and bodies everywhere. Someone just set a city bus on fire, and I'm pretty sure I just saw a National Guard contingent being mobilized."

Again, it's just a freeway closing. For one weekend. Take it easy, people.

 

It's been a long time in the making, but I'm finally pulling things together with my horror group, The Dark Society. Yesterday I redesigned all the group contests and forums, including brand new images (thanks to Brooke-Reading Dear Me Letters for all the input!), which I'm particularly proud of: