Too Much Noise

I had a weird feeling the other day -- like the reaching of a limit. Some of the things I had written

Shel Silverstein

this week got attention, all at once (a lot by my standards, not by James Patterson's, of course), and a lot of issues were coming at me on a personal and professional level and I felt a little like I was being surrounded zombies had forced me into an alley with one of those caged lights swinging overhead. I felt the beginnings of a kind of mild panic.

I've been busy before. I have been overwhelmed before. But this was different, especially on the writing end. You spend time trying to develop an audience, so, when they respond, you figure it will be a reward -- and, it is, usually, but, it felt like a line had been crossed, all of a sudden. Coupled with the whole busy life thing, I guess it the "mild panic" sort of came in like a Ninja before I knew it.

(No -- this doesn't mean I want you to stop commenting on my posts. Seriously.)

It's a lesson, though. One from which I should be able to extrapolate some wisdom about my future self. I won't bore you with my conclusions.

Part of the panic was a metaphoric and literal noise issue. I find that when I cut some of the literal noise, that much of the metaphoric cacophony lessens, so I have been driving with the radio off. A half hour to and from work, no radio; no music. Decompression, if you will.

For me, it is like putting my brain in a hot tub with a nice sunset view. Sometimes we need to retreat, I guess. But I think it is more than that for me. I need to clean out some of the clutter lying in the path of my days. I'm starting to feel claustrophobic.

Weak Arguments About Valid Points

Alright. Deep breath. I'm going to do this.

I am going to set up carefully before I do it, but I know, regardless of what I say, here, someone will read this as a piece condoning the exclusion of gay people from the workforce. No. I am just trying to point out something that happens too much when people argue: flaws in reasoning.

Did everyone get that? Raise your hand if you didn't get that. Because if anyone responds to this by calling me an unfeeling monster who thinks it is okay to keep someone without a means of sustenance because of his or her sexual orientation, I am not responsible for how I may respond. No -- come to think of it, I will just delete such comments, though I have never once done that in the three year history of this blog.

So let me reinforce this: this is a post about logic in argumentation, not about a social issue, though a social issue is at the center of the argument in question. By attacking this argument, I am not saying that the gist of the point that is being made about the issue is not right. I am simply saying that the way that is is being argued is flawed.

Okay? Anyone still a little unsure? Just let me know... I'll wait.

Right. So, consider this meme I just saw on Facebook:

The Circus of Human Failure

You know the old story about the wizard who puts a spell on the well in order to enchant everyone in the village? The people fall to the spell, one at a time, until there is only one guy left and when he realizes that he is the "crazy one," after days of having tried to convince everyone that there is something wrong with the well, he drinks and is congratulated for finally having come to his senses.

I'm always reminded of this story when it comes to the old Sandburg quotation: "Someday, they are going to give a war and no one will come." Will this ever happen? Not if everyone is drinking from the well. (Or not unless the right wizard poisons it.)

Photo by Robert Capa; Spanish American War

So, here's the problem: war is absolutely absurd. It defies reason. It is something that should only happen in nightmares. Yet, we talk about it each day as matter-of-factly as we discuss the wins and losses of our favorite teams. Why?

Because although we teach our kids that war is a bad thing -- something to be avoided -- we don't go the extra step into convincing them, in their deepest hearts, that it is an abomination; a ridiculous, pointless, incomprehensibly stupid circus of human failure.

"You'll still know nothin 'bout me"

Fortunately, I have a wife who does whatever the heck she wants to, regardless of my constant spewings of what is incontrovertibly wrong about the world. I really, despite my strong opinions about things, always wanted to be married to someone who respects me and who listens to what I have to say but who doesn't feel obligated to subscribe to everything I think (or to pretend to). (My experiences in early life, let it suffice to say, have brought me to this point.) I need to express, but I do not need to control or bully. It could, very well, have come out differently -- again, based on past experience that I don't wish to detail.

"World's first selfie": RETRONAUT

This is all a prelude to my writing about something that my wife (who reads my blog every day -- love you, my little cheese-puff!) does participate in that I think is eminently absurd: the "selfie."

(No, I don't really call her that. Who am I, Torvald Helmer?)

Anyway: the "selfie." I just can't help it. No matter how ubiquitous it is now, I can't help but think it an absurd practice. Perhaps it is another step to my not-so-slow alienation from a world in which I am not-so-slowly becoming an elder.

Intensifying the Already Awesome: Why?

Original Paget illustration

Sherlock Holmes, on the current BBC series, Sherlock, is a "high-functioning sociopath." (He has said this several times throughout the series.) I love the show, but, as a repeated reader of the old Holmes tales, I can tell you that there is no indication of his being quite a sociopath. He is a genius, for sure. He is quirky. He has issues, including an addiction (one that was common in the era). But, of course, in order to make something work with a modern audience, the writers "amped" thing up. Also, the comfortable, often teasing relationship he had with Watson in the stories has become an intense, almost inexplicably strong near-obsession with the good doctor and his well-being.* (Spoiler alert: Holmes blows someone's brains out at point-blank rage in order to protect Watson's wife's reputation.)

Does story, today, need to be so intense in order to work? The Holmes stories have remained somewhat popular in their original state, so, it makes me wonder if we're not stoking a fire that is already burning plenty high.

Rathbone and Bruce (Watson as a dolt)

Every ad or promoted post on Facebook is billed as "shocking" or "hilarious." "Extreme" has been the catchword, in advertising, for everything from particular sports to snack chips for more than a decade, now.

A few years ago, McDonald's even went so far as to refer to a "decadent drizzle" of chocolate on their sundaes. ("Uh, yes, I'll have the Frozen Oxymoron Treat...")

I was watching the season finale of The Biggest Loser a few weeks ago. I vowed I would actually go back and count them, and didn't, but, the host of the show and the contestants must have uttered the word "amazing" four times a minute. (I don't mean this to be hyperbole: I really think that must have been the case; it was live -- this is what happens, I suppose.) "You look...amazing... What was it like living on the ranch?" "It was...amazing...I learned so many amazing things and Dolvette was...amazing."