Sunday Funnies

Sunday Links Collection:

• The boy who wanted his labia pierced.

Everyman Identification in the Political Arena

George W. Bush's purported mandate from the nation represents not the overwhelming will of the people, but rather serves as an example of how far one can go if the message is a rejection of intellectualism.

This is, in itself, ironic. Judging by degrees, GW (itself a folksy, anti-erudite nickname fashioned to be familiar)is himself an educated man. His cabinet is populated by smart, intelligent people. Yet the image he portrays is not that of the well educated, intelligent person he undoubtedly should be. Rather, our commander in chief has realized the vast potential of the Everyman.

By its nature, the Everyman conceit is constructed to appeal to the widest audience possible. The goal is not for the Everyman to be attractive to most people...rather it is a vehicle for which the common folk can identify with the subject...in this case, George W. Bush himself.

George W is not an idiot. There, I've said it. It wasn't easy to do...but, it's out there...and it's important to acknowledge (even if it's not true) so that we can understand the distasteful genius behind the construction of his popular appeal.

If we allow for a moment the possibility that GW's rhetorical gaffes, his go-it-alone attitude, his near death experience with a pretzel, and yes even the mysterious glob of spittle were not the result of happenstance, but were themselves carefully choreographed and designed to allow the Everyman to say, deep down, "My god, I remember the last time I had to speak in public...I did the same thing!" or "I remember that time I almost asphyxiated on a Twinkie...", "That reminds me of the time I walked around for 4 hours with a booger on my moustache." The trick Bush performs is not inspiring people to be proud of him; but rather to get people to identify some of the most uncomfortable and embarrassing moments in their experience with GW. When folk see that GW does these same things but is still a success, they are given a little ray of hope in their lives.

The trick to politics is, after all, not what you are; but what people think you are. If people think that George is "one of us" they want to vote for him. They can't help themselves. There is something irresistibly adorable about his vacant eyes, his munchkin stature, and his weaknesses. As such, George Bush is not only the Everyman, but the anti-hero. The regular guy who, faults and all, finally gets his chance and shows the world how much your average schmoe can do if they stop playing the game according to the rules of Washington.

The Campaign
The biggest threat to GW was not John Kerry. It was the other anti-hero...the other Everyman: Howard Dean. Howard had the best chance of winning the election because he was the only serious threat to Bush's everyman approach. People liked Dean because he also represented the ordinary schmoe we all feel we are on some deep psychological level. But Dean lost his chance in mere seconds when he violated the Primary Rule of Everyman Identification: Never, Ever, Ever Say or Do Anything That Makes You Look Like a Maniac.

It's a simple rule, really. But the ease with which Dean violated it makes one wonder if Dean's image was choreographed or the result of sheer luck. People don't like maniacs. We don't want to relate to them. And we especially don't like it when the person we identify with provides a sound-clip that taken out of context and played repeatedly on every media outlet available provides an invitation for speculation about his rationality. Put simply, when given a choice between two anti-hero Everymen, people will identify with sane but stupid over possibly mad but likeable every time.

This is unfortunate, perhaps. After all, on a deeper level, can't we all identify with Howard's scream? Haven't we all said something and then realized, all too late, that it sounded completely unlike what we had intended? Haven't we all had people quizzically look at us after we've said or done something, and the expression on the onlooker's face plainly reads "You must be mad." The sad truth is we all probably can point to such an experience at some point in each of our lives; but that experience is so discomforting that we naturally want to distance ourselves from anything remotely connected with it. And so, in the instant it took for Howard to violate the Primary Rule of Everyman Identification with the Dean Scream, the democrats lost all hope of posing a real challenge to Bush. In that instant Rove must have jumped for joy, must have pulled the strings that made Bush do a little dance, could possibly feel people turning away in droves from the Democratic Everyman candidate. After all, the Democrats had serious Everyman left. What were they going to do, run John Kerry?

I don't dislike John Kerry. In fact, I kind of identify with him too. It's just that the moments that make me identify with Kerry don't offer a message of validation. I've struggled to convey complex ideas simply for an audience and failed. I've been dismissed as too intellectual. I've spoken at length about topics...examining with all the rhetorical skill at my disposal and despite my suspicion that Cicero himself was applauding me, I've seen the vacuous stares of my audience looking back at me from a distance greater than the inches or feet that separated us, but from the distance measured by dis-identification (the process by which an audience might not know who they identify with, but they sure as hell know it isn't you). Kerry didn't have a chance. He was the smart player in a fool's game. He was the college professor who obviously knew his subject, but we had no interest in it; he was polished like sterling; he was the Hero in a world disillusioned by Heroes.

Social Security Crisis Looms, Film at Eleven

We've been hearing more and more about the impending catastrophic failure of Social Security lately. Did you know that most of the extreme rhetoric is propaganda? I didn't...

Finally, someone takes a look at the real issues and puts the "crisis" in perspective.

Read the article for the 411.

-Michael

Political Correctness and Accusations of Gay Bashing

Hello friends. During the course of email events, we all say things unintentionally that hurt others. Thus far I have found the best approach in life is to maintain a self of humor, be genuine, and apologize if something you say offends someone. Of course, often the PC police are on the prowl and expect you to offer an apology not because they were offended, but because something you said might be offensive to someone else.

Today I got an email...an email from a friend sent to a number of people, asking if anyone was familiar with a popular subscription based video rental service. He got one response back. And, I noticed that one of our other in-common-friends on the distribution list had not responded.

Now I knew three things about this friend (Eric).

1. He had been a fan of Netflix a number of years ago and really enjoyed the service.
2. He generally does not answer email.
3. He went through a period of time at when he was a member of netflix when he was renting films with a decidedly homo-erotic bent.

The last two points have been the subject of much good-natured ribbing over the years. And, since I knew Eric likely wouldn't respond in person, I responded to the original email with the following:

Eric appears to be in a "I'm not answering emails anymore" mode these
days, but I can vouch for the fact that he at one time was a member of
Netflix. ...he liked the fact that he could get his hom0-er0tic films
without the embarrassment of dealing with the people at the video
store.

My question to the world at large is this, "Is this email patently offensive to the world at large? The subject of the humor was not that homo-erotic movies are funny in themselves, but the uncomfortable sense many people feel when renting pornography. Ok, so it wasn't that funny, as far as jokes go...but such good natured ribbing is all part of the peer identification and group identification that goes on with this guy. Well, in the flash of an eye, I got the following message in my email box:

You and your "reply to all" emails. Not that they would be that
offended, but one of my friends you sent that to is gay.

Now, what's this mean? The implied message I get is that gay folk would find my email offensive. It is interesting that the actual text of the email directly contradicts the more important, subtextual message which is essentially, "Be careful, because it sounds like you are gay bashing." WTF?

Well, being somewhat offended of being accused by the PC police of being offensive, I responded quickly:

How does mentioning homo-erotic movies anti-gay?

This of course serves the point that I should have proof-read my response before sending it. Nevertheless, I think the recipient could read through the bad grammar and replace "does" with "is." Judging by the response, I'm assuming that he did in fact deconstruct my email and get my question, for his response said simply:

Why don't you go to England and visit Prince Harry you fucking fascist!

Now there are two things that bug me about this. The first thing is equating the perceived anti-gay sentiment the reader accused me of disseminating in my email with the insensitivity of a public official who would dress up as the leader of a group responsible for the torture and death of millions of Jews, Christians, and political dissidents. The second is the rather humorous willingness to use the term "fascist" without any apparent understanding of what it actually means. I mean, if anything, the very suggestion that one should exercise prior restraint in public and private discourse(as PC police so often do) is itself a characteristic of fascism.

Ah well, so it looks like a twofer Sunday. Please feel free to add your thoughts and opinions.

-Michael

Know What "Old Soul" Means?

I was told yesterday by a colleague that I am an “old soul, perhaps an old soul than me; and I think that I have things that I can learn from you.” Such a comment in a professional environment is a bit unusual, but what really struck me was that I had not a clue what my colleague was talking about.

Now, the rub is in figuring out exactly what an “old soul” might be. I haven’t the foggiest, really. I suspect he is referring to the fact that I tend not to get worked up over the myriad crises that arise during the course of any business day…that I am more laid-back than most. The trick is, of course, not to sweat the small stuff. But still, what does it mean to be called an old soul?

Like most lazy researchers, I turned to the internet for answers. Availing myself to the fantastical powers of Google, I happened across the following:

Old Soul Philosophy. Despite its promising title, this page offered absolutely no help to me. What I need is a definition, something with meat (so to speak) that I can stick my teeth into and have a Eureka moment. Alas, no such luck here.

Next up on the G-List was this site, which was more promising. Amongst other rather broad characterizes of old souls, they suggested the following.

Old souls:

• Are experienced
• Appreciate tradition
• Are down to earth
• Are sensible
• Are impatient
• Hate injustice
• Are protective of family and friends
• Are independent
• Enjoy both solitude and company

Well that certainly didn’t help. I mean, just about any person and personality trait can find some things in this list that they value. Besides, it didn’t get me any closer to a definition that made sense within the business world.

So on I went, working my way down the list. Shari’s Blog offered this valuable bit of wisdom. “An old soul is nothing but a slow learner.” This is a quote from Dr. Peebles in To Dance With Angels. I’m familiar with neither the good doctor nor the work he appears in. But still, something about the definition appeals to me. I like it for its wry humor and apparent sarcasm. Still, no closer to a definition.

Crystal Links offered a rather freakish definition. From this I learned that I have “reached a higher frequency” and that I am aware that I am “experiencing multidimensionality.” Damn, and I thought the flu was bad! Next!

This rather odd definition appears sandwiched in a page that seemingly does nothing more than offer advertising for Vonage and Weight Loss. Maybe old souls are fat believers in VOIP?

Next up was michaelteachings.com (no affiliation), which more than makes up for the brevity of other sites in sheer verbiage, but far exceeds any rational expectations of a concise definition by introducing not just the “old soul” concept, but integrating it into a whole freakish cultish framework.

So, I’ve felt that I’ve done my due diligence and at least tried to understand what this particular label means when used to describe me. I’m not so much giving up because I’m discouraged, but because I’m bored. With that in mind, if any of you can tell me clearly what it means, do share.

-Michael

Morning Coffee After Snow

Well, the snow came. And came. And came again. Probably about a foot, but surely no more.

The plow that plowed our parking lot so bright and early yesterday morning was nowhere to be seen by 7:00am today. While thankful to not be awakened by the sound of his machinations in the lot beneath my window at an earlier hour; I grew to resent his tardiness as I hoisted shovel after shovel of snow by hand in an effort to clear a path for my car.

Once ejected from the lot and out on the public thoroughfares, the driving was much better than yesterday (which puzzles me, as today we had thrice the snow of yesterday but the roads were better).

Ah yes, a beautiful drive into work on a crisp and clear January morning. And when I arrived at work, my car door was frozen so that it wouldn't stay closed. Fortunately I had anticipated such behavior from the product of the finest automobile engineers in the world (the Germans) and wonder, for how much longer will they be able to lay claim to that title when their products consistently behave in such a manner? I started my car again with the extra key I brought, turned the heater up high and went into the office. By the time I had cleared off my desk and started my computers, cleaned off my coffee cup and blew my nose, I decided to venture out and check the car door.

A few minutes of hot air is just the ticket to convince the product of the finest automobile engineers in the world (the Germans) to behave as it should. From there, it was off for coffee...

And the coffee is at a convenience store a block away. I walked with my great boots through the snow, cup in hand, a lone man on a mission for a.m. redemption. When I left the shop, coffee still too warm to drink, I noticed a woman stuck in her car half way betwixt the main street and a side road...the side road, of course, that I had to cross to get back to the office.

Resigned to the fact that I couldn't just walk past her without trying to help, I settled my cup down in the snow and informed her that no matter how hard she tried, judging by the great mound of snow that had accumulated under her front bumper, she was not going to be able to go forward...but that I would help her, if she agreed to try going in reverse. After a few minutes pushing, timing it just right to avoid the traffic behind her, I realized that there was no unit small enough with which we could measure our success.

Fortunately, at that point, a rough hewn man pulled over his truck and got out to help. After a few minutes of mangrunting as we labored, the woman and her car launched back out into the road.

When she came to a stop, she put it in drive and drove away without nary a wave and I, stooping over to retrieve my coffee, noticed that it was cold.