Merriam-Webster defines "laugh" as:
"To show mirth, joy, or scorn with a smile or explosive sound; also: to become amused or derisive."
Another dictionary defines "laugh" as:
"To make the spontaneous sounds and movements of the face and body that are the instinctive expressions of lively amusement and sometimes also of contempt."
The second one is pretty dramatic, no? Still, they mean the same thing, and it's not something one should have to define because it's a fairly universal experience shared by all. More often than not, laughter is induced by something funny (which again, is fairly difficult to actually define and put into words because humor varies from person to person- not that I had to tell you that). And other times it is caused by something sad, that you find funny. Or you're being tickled. The point being there's always an obvious stimulus that triggers laughter. Or giggling and chuckling, if that's your thing.
Or is there?
Do you ever have those moments where you just want to laugh? Sometimes for no reason whatsoever? Sometimes, you just burst into a fit of laughter and people ask you what's wrong but you just can't figure it out. Have you ever had that happen? It's a strangely comforting feeling because you know you're human and all that good stuff.
You can argue that there's nothing really awesome about being human and that humans are generally scum but I'd say that we're magnificent scum. Villainous, vile, jolly, incredible beings, and all that optimistic jazz. But that's another story another time. This particular post is about laughter.
Spontaneous, explicable, inexplicable laughter. A violent ballet of merriment engulfs the being and ensnares the vessel. For a while you aren't entirely in control because you can only communicate by saying "ha" in varying pitch and tone. Sure, you might be able to squeak out a monosyllabic word or two but cannot entirely communicate what the hell is happening. Those fits are fun.
I knew someone who didn't like it when I made them laugh. Probably because I did it to excess but to complain? I always thought it was weird especially because it's not like I ever tried to make light of a serious subject or situation. Sure, I made that person laugh a lot, and spent a lot of time trying (and succeeding about 9/10 times) but still. I was oft accused of "trying to kill [that person]" with laughter.
But I've also met people who don't like gelatin or yogurt. So this isn't very weird. Or maybe I'm weird? No, that's not it. We're all weird. Some more than others, by means of perspective, technicalities, and trick angles.
Hmm.
And the scribe grinned wolfishly.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Suits
At the risk of sounding cliched, magic is everywhere! Yeah! Groovy! Far-out!
Erhm.
It used to be that the things we take for granted these days or find ordinary (for the most part), were once considered magic. Fire, photography, medicine, death, etc, you get the point.
Despite not being a child anymore, I sometimes catch myself being fascinated by stuff around me the same way I would if I was one (the times I don't catch myself I'm just completely engrossed in whatever is fascinating me that I can't put myself outside it). Some may say it's unhealthy and that's fine, they're entitled to their opinion as long as they don't start causing trouble for others.
And then there are those who would argue that retaining some child-like sense of curiosity and wonderment is actually a boon. I would definitely agree with these because an active imagination (or one that doesn't completely suck / isn't completely buried by scars of time and the sands of age) helps come up with solutions to problems, helps create new ideas and so forth. You get the point.
I don't mean that everyone should actually behave like a child. No, society being the way it is sets certain expectations for a reason- so everyone can progress. I'd like to believe that this is the case though it probably isn't. Still, it's a nice thought.
But since we are expected to do something a certain way, in order to progress, you have to roll with the punches thrown at you. Part of that includes wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase if your line of work requires it. And putting away your propeller hat and slingshot.
I say suit because for me that has always been the ultimate sign (in the 20th and 21st centuries) of adulthood and being fully grown up. In the sense that after that, there's really no turning back: that necktie might as well be a noose and the suit a straitjacket. And really, all those people in business suits all look the same to me. Yes, there are some differences but more often than not, they all look the same despite boasting brand X and Y with adjective+color.
So, yes. I equate suits with the end of one's colorful personal identity that has set one apart from others. To some degree.
I've also seen those people in suits as having an incredible amount of pressure placed on them, paired with the levels of maturity and seriousness that go with that. High stress, high tension, high stakes. Hi, steaks! Clearly, no room to mess around, right? But many times, those suits have to make decisions that affect not only them but their companies and the (comparatively) common person. And then of course there comes the backlash over poor decisions and such.
Let's not even get started on how suits have been synonymous with some sort of doom and gloom type authority figure that wrecks everything and must be stopped (read: suits = "The Man").
So, a suit is the end.
The preceding paragraphs kind of sound like something a child would say. You'll also notice that I started talking about magic and didn't actually go anywhere with it.
Or did I?
I still find suits interesting, though I'm not a big fan of wearing one. Not necessarily because of that whole suits are the end thing but for reasons I won't discuss right now (another story for another time). What is interesting to me about them is the world that they are a part of. Business, responsibility, wondering how they can stand the pressure and responsibility of whatever it is they do.
I remember meeting up with a man who works for the city. I remember being being terrified and fascinated by the work he does and the responsibility. Terrified because his works affects a lot of people in very profound ways and any errors can cause a train-wreck of sorts. He isn't affiliated with any transportation department or the like, I was using train-wreck in a metaphorical way. I was fascinated for the same reason: his decisions really do have a widespread effect on a lot of people.
I realize that the sort of magic I saw in his job was filtered by a more adult/grown-up way of thinking. Still, I found his work interesting but too daunting to ever pursue something like that for myself. Of course, this also has to do with the fact that since I am very critical of my work and of myself, that if I were in that position of power, I wouldn't get much done as I would spend most of the time writing run-on sentences and being extremely dissatisfied with my decisions and thought process, dismissing them as inadequate and dreadful. The one area where a child-like sense of awe will not help much.
Still, one can't help but be moved (metaphorically) by the world in at least a slight degree as everything has the capacity to stun and mesmerize and make one's eyes widen with fascination. Make you feel 2 feet tall again looking up at everything and wondering how things work.
I still do that, though I'm much much much taller than 2 feet.
Erhm.
It used to be that the things we take for granted these days or find ordinary (for the most part), were once considered magic. Fire, photography, medicine, death, etc, you get the point.
Despite not being a child anymore, I sometimes catch myself being fascinated by stuff around me the same way I would if I was one (the times I don't catch myself I'm just completely engrossed in whatever is fascinating me that I can't put myself outside it). Some may say it's unhealthy and that's fine, they're entitled to their opinion as long as they don't start causing trouble for others.
And then there are those who would argue that retaining some child-like sense of curiosity and wonderment is actually a boon. I would definitely agree with these because an active imagination (or one that doesn't completely suck / isn't completely buried by scars of time and the sands of age) helps come up with solutions to problems, helps create new ideas and so forth. You get the point.
I don't mean that everyone should actually behave like a child. No, society being the way it is sets certain expectations for a reason- so everyone can progress. I'd like to believe that this is the case though it probably isn't. Still, it's a nice thought.
But since we are expected to do something a certain way, in order to progress, you have to roll with the punches thrown at you. Part of that includes wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase if your line of work requires it. And putting away your propeller hat and slingshot.
I say suit because for me that has always been the ultimate sign (in the 20th and 21st centuries) of adulthood and being fully grown up. In the sense that after that, there's really no turning back: that necktie might as well be a noose and the suit a straitjacket. And really, all those people in business suits all look the same to me. Yes, there are some differences but more often than not, they all look the same despite boasting brand X and Y with adjective+color.
So, yes. I equate suits with the end of one's colorful personal identity that has set one apart from others. To some degree.
I've also seen those people in suits as having an incredible amount of pressure placed on them, paired with the levels of maturity and seriousness that go with that. High stress, high tension, high stakes. Hi, steaks! Clearly, no room to mess around, right? But many times, those suits have to make decisions that affect not only them but their companies and the (comparatively) common person. And then of course there comes the backlash over poor decisions and such.
Let's not even get started on how suits have been synonymous with some sort of doom and gloom type authority figure that wrecks everything and must be stopped (read: suits = "The Man").
So, a suit is the end.
The preceding paragraphs kind of sound like something a child would say. You'll also notice that I started talking about magic and didn't actually go anywhere with it.
Or did I?
I still find suits interesting, though I'm not a big fan of wearing one. Not necessarily because of that whole suits are the end thing but for reasons I won't discuss right now (another story for another time). What is interesting to me about them is the world that they are a part of. Business, responsibility, wondering how they can stand the pressure and responsibility of whatever it is they do.
I remember meeting up with a man who works for the city. I remember being being terrified and fascinated by the work he does and the responsibility. Terrified because his works affects a lot of people in very profound ways and any errors can cause a train-wreck of sorts. He isn't affiliated with any transportation department or the like, I was using train-wreck in a metaphorical way. I was fascinated for the same reason: his decisions really do have a widespread effect on a lot of people.
I realize that the sort of magic I saw in his job was filtered by a more adult/grown-up way of thinking. Still, I found his work interesting but too daunting to ever pursue something like that for myself. Of course, this also has to do with the fact that since I am very critical of my work and of myself, that if I were in that position of power, I wouldn't get much done as I would spend most of the time writing run-on sentences and being extremely dissatisfied with my decisions and thought process, dismissing them as inadequate and dreadful. The one area where a child-like sense of awe will not help much.
Still, one can't help but be moved (metaphorically) by the world in at least a slight degree as everything has the capacity to stun and mesmerize and make one's eyes widen with fascination. Make you feel 2 feet tall again looking up at everything and wondering how things work.
I still do that, though I'm much much much taller than 2 feet.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Ye Olde
It has come to my attention that I am like one of those people who have some sort of fixation with the past, or times that precede my birth. This became pretty obvious when I saw that a good chunk of my music library is predates my birth. And when upon recommending movies to a friend, I saw that a good number of them were either from the Criterion Collection or older than my parents. Funny, in a way.
By fixated, I don't mean that I wish I was 17 years old again only in the 1960's because my favorite bands played at Woodstock! Peace and love, man! Groovy! Far out, man! Keep on truckin'! Hell no, we won't go!
No.
Well, some of my favorite bands did play at Woodstock but that's not the point here. What I'm trying to get at is that I fall into that category of people that for some bizarre reason (that they can never truly justify or even describe thoroughly) have a fondness for the past. I say my fondness falls within a healthy range whereas others really freak me the fuck out, though they are rare.
For a lot of people, this notion of longing for the past they never actually knew is romanticizing certain ideas and events while disregarding the entirety of whatever it is that happened in the past. The people who lived in those days don't actually want to relive them in any capacity other than their memories. Or so I've gathered based on conversations we've had. This most likely means that they accepted that things come and go, and the fondness attached to those memories only withers when you wish and pine for the past repeatedly. They are healthy individuals who are comfortable with themselves that they rarely feel the need to make the past sound more awesome than it is or was.
Of course, I get very annoyed when I'm told that it was possible to pay for full-time schooling and housing on a part time job. That'd be really awesome to experience. Which kind of proves my point about wanting to go a-la carte with the past, or days one never knew. You can't really do that; you have to take EVERYTHING.
For instance, a lot of minorities (myself included) who somehow pine for an era predating the 70's often forget to take into consideration that for most of American history, minorities have not actually had a say in how things work. I'd make a generalization that this was a global thing but I don't want to sound like more of an ass. Very scattered and sparse events began to change the tide but to willingly place yourself in an era during which you have very little room for upward movement, strikes me as odd and unwise. If I could tell myself that when I was younger, I think I would have grown up faster. Or gotten the ball rolling, at least. I don't exactly pin the blame on anyone but ourselves because the stories we heard from our elders were meant for entertainment and to provide insight and above all: wisdom. Appreciate what you have as fully as you can now, while you can. They don't tell us these stories to brag or make us want to travel to their eras. I rarely hear about the harsh times they faced, which is probably an indication that they don't want to relive those times even if the memories and stories they share are fucking awesome and make one feel warm and so forth.
As for my fixation of sorts. I guess it really boils down to stuff that can be achieved today but isn't for reasons unbeknownst to me. Stuff like: better manners, more personal accountability, a stronger sense of integrity, better quality music, better quality films, a stronger moral fiber, a greater emphasis on actually doing things, and a greater sense of optimism among everyone. I may be jaded (and to some extent: bitter) but that doesn't mean the plucky optimist will drown any time soon.
Maybe I say these things because I'm a maladjusted young man but you have to admit that it'd be fucking awesome to be able to afford a burger, milkshake, newspaper, a slice of pie, and ride the trolley all for a dime or however that repeated anecdote of the past goes.
By fixated, I don't mean that I wish I was 17 years old again only in the 1960's because my favorite bands played at Woodstock! Peace and love, man! Groovy! Far out, man! Keep on truckin'! Hell no, we won't go!
No.
Well, some of my favorite bands did play at Woodstock but that's not the point here. What I'm trying to get at is that I fall into that category of people that for some bizarre reason (that they can never truly justify or even describe thoroughly) have a fondness for the past. I say my fondness falls within a healthy range whereas others really freak me the fuck out, though they are rare.
For a lot of people, this notion of longing for the past they never actually knew is romanticizing certain ideas and events while disregarding the entirety of whatever it is that happened in the past. The people who lived in those days don't actually want to relive them in any capacity other than their memories. Or so I've gathered based on conversations we've had. This most likely means that they accepted that things come and go, and the fondness attached to those memories only withers when you wish and pine for the past repeatedly. They are healthy individuals who are comfortable with themselves that they rarely feel the need to make the past sound more awesome than it is or was.
Of course, I get very annoyed when I'm told that it was possible to pay for full-time schooling and housing on a part time job. That'd be really awesome to experience. Which kind of proves my point about wanting to go a-la carte with the past, or days one never knew. You can't really do that; you have to take EVERYTHING.
For instance, a lot of minorities (myself included) who somehow pine for an era predating the 70's often forget to take into consideration that for most of American history, minorities have not actually had a say in how things work. I'd make a generalization that this was a global thing but I don't want to sound like more of an ass. Very scattered and sparse events began to change the tide but to willingly place yourself in an era during which you have very little room for upward movement, strikes me as odd and unwise. If I could tell myself that when I was younger, I think I would have grown up faster. Or gotten the ball rolling, at least. I don't exactly pin the blame on anyone but ourselves because the stories we heard from our elders were meant for entertainment and to provide insight and above all: wisdom. Appreciate what you have as fully as you can now, while you can. They don't tell us these stories to brag or make us want to travel to their eras. I rarely hear about the harsh times they faced, which is probably an indication that they don't want to relive those times even if the memories and stories they share are fucking awesome and make one feel warm and so forth.
As for my fixation of sorts. I guess it really boils down to stuff that can be achieved today but isn't for reasons unbeknownst to me. Stuff like: better manners, more personal accountability, a stronger sense of integrity, better quality music, better quality films, a stronger moral fiber, a greater emphasis on actually doing things, and a greater sense of optimism among everyone. I may be jaded (and to some extent: bitter) but that doesn't mean the plucky optimist will drown any time soon.
Maybe I say these things because I'm a maladjusted young man but you have to admit that it'd be fucking awesome to be able to afford a burger, milkshake, newspaper, a slice of pie, and ride the trolley all for a dime or however that repeated anecdote of the past goes.
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