A hospital employee is given much reason to reflect, for everyday there occur things that remind them that life is precious.A seemingly innocuous item or occurrence can give one pause to ponder the meaning of life or the sorrows of the ones left behind after someone passes on.
Today I had one of those innocuous moments.
When I was stocking my room with supplies,I noticed a slot that was full when I had inventoried the room, but was now vacant. In that slot went an adult body bag pack. Upon seeing the empty slot, I was caused to think back to a moment from earlier in the day. There was a family gathered outside a room, crying and clearly upset.I had not paid much attention for frequently are families posted outside rooms and not infrequently are they distressed.
However, the absence of the body bag and the obvious connection to the sobbing family made this poignant for me. In that missing pack now lay their loved one. A real person, who mere hours earlier was alive, was now wrapped in plastic as one wraps a gift. No longer would this person dream dreams or hold in love a family member. No longer will this person be able to revel in a sun drenched August day or stand in quiet admiration of the polychromatic splendor of fall.
When a person passes from this world, their suffering ends. No more the pangs and discomfort of tests, no more pain from whatever ailment they are afflicted with, no more anguish for they now reside in that unknowable realm we call the afterlife.
The torment of the deceased now passes on to those left behind. Where the former dealt primarily with physical agony, the latter must bargain with the ache of emotional pain over the loss of the person they so deeply cherished. It is the misfortune of the living that they must continue forth while their loved one sleeps in peaceful eternal repose.
Parting from a loved one for the final time is rarely a sweet sorrow. It is a soul-shredding, tear-inducing moment that leaves one with the sensation that their heart has been torn asunder. All that is left over is an emptiness that no one or thing can fill. An emptiness that will be with you until it is your turn to be placed in that plastic bag.
That empty slot represents much more than just a slot to be restocked, but a life. A life unknown to the rest of humanity, but beloved by those who mattered most--family.There is no greater measure of a person than that.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Indulging Indolence
Where I work, laziness is not a malady that management seeks to extirpate through aggressive application of the rules, but a tolerated, almost encouraged, behavior of the employees.
Before I go further, I should note that my co-workers and I belong to AFSCME(American Federation of State, County, and Municipal Employees) The contract with our employer is more than adequate for punishing the work shy, for it allows the supervisors plenty of latitude to find a way to remove an uncooperative employee.Management has the tools it needs to hold people accountable.
Alas, rare is the moment when they actually apply the hammer to the incorrigible nail.
The permissive attitude towards the idle is concerning for we work at a hospital. This is a place where lives are at stake. How can people be permitted the luxury of not doing their assigned task?How can a managerial team with adequate disciplinary weapons at their disposal, permit rampant indolence?
How can management permit a weekend employee to punch in, sit around and do nothing for his two scheduled days? How can they allow the supplies of a unit to so dwindle that come Monday morning the stockroom as well as the nurse servers(small closets that we also stock) have yawning holes, where supplies once were?
What makes this all the more infuriating is how simple the task it. Resupply the nurse servers, inventory and resupply the stockrooms, and go home. That is the job. It is not particularly arduous from a physical standpoint and the job requires no intellect at all. Trained Capuchin Monkeys could do the job.
This issue spotlights the incompetence and insouciance of the managerial team. For no competent person who cares the slightest bit about their job would countenance such inactivity. But tolerated it is and it plagues many more units than just my own. Mondays are a dangerous time for those with an aversion to cuss words to pay a visit to the warehouse.
Management concerns itself more with the issues of Ipods, call offs, and to matters of dress then people actually doing the work. While those are of some importance--particularly of habitual call offs--people not doing their job is infinitely more important. We are here to do a job. If a person is not doing that job than we are failing to do what the department was created to do.
The worker himself is responsible for his languid approach to work, but only to a certain extent. He can only do what he does with the tolerance of the supervision.It is their apparent acceptance of his "do nothing" approach that allows this this type of behavior.
It is not just a problem of lazy union workers, but of lazy, indifferent, supervisors, who refuse to do the most elemental part of their job--making sure that their charges do theirs.
Before I go further, I should note that my co-workers and I belong to AFSCME(American Federation of State, County, and Municipal Employees) The contract with our employer is more than adequate for punishing the work shy, for it allows the supervisors plenty of latitude to find a way to remove an uncooperative employee.Management has the tools it needs to hold people accountable.
Alas, rare is the moment when they actually apply the hammer to the incorrigible nail.
The permissive attitude towards the idle is concerning for we work at a hospital. This is a place where lives are at stake. How can people be permitted the luxury of not doing their assigned task?How can a managerial team with adequate disciplinary weapons at their disposal, permit rampant indolence?
How can management permit a weekend employee to punch in, sit around and do nothing for his two scheduled days? How can they allow the supplies of a unit to so dwindle that come Monday morning the stockroom as well as the nurse servers(small closets that we also stock) have yawning holes, where supplies once were?
What makes this all the more infuriating is how simple the task it. Resupply the nurse servers, inventory and resupply the stockrooms, and go home. That is the job. It is not particularly arduous from a physical standpoint and the job requires no intellect at all. Trained Capuchin Monkeys could do the job.
This issue spotlights the incompetence and insouciance of the managerial team. For no competent person who cares the slightest bit about their job would countenance such inactivity. But tolerated it is and it plagues many more units than just my own. Mondays are a dangerous time for those with an aversion to cuss words to pay a visit to the warehouse.
Management concerns itself more with the issues of Ipods, call offs, and to matters of dress then people actually doing the work. While those are of some importance--particularly of habitual call offs--people not doing their job is infinitely more important. We are here to do a job. If a person is not doing that job than we are failing to do what the department was created to do.
The worker himself is responsible for his languid approach to work, but only to a certain extent. He can only do what he does with the tolerance of the supervision.It is their apparent acceptance of his "do nothing" approach that allows this this type of behavior.
It is not just a problem of lazy union workers, but of lazy, indifferent, supervisors, who refuse to do the most elemental part of their job--making sure that their charges do theirs.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Thus it begins...
The Beautiful Game begins this week. No, not futbol, but that most special of all games, college football.
Much blood, sweat, and tears will be shed over these next glorious four months--and that just by the fans.Months of hard work in the off season--by players and staff alike--to get to the starting point of more than 3 months of arduous work.
No event in American life is more American than college football.The bands, the crowds, the tradition, the helmets, the mascots, and the passion of the fans create an atmosphere that no other sport can match. It is a mixture of carnival, theater, and sport.
In this grand game we Americans congregate to watch our fellow Americans grapple with each other and their physical limits to achieve victory on the field and in the soul.
We watch it because we relate. We care because the on the field battle is the physical manifestation of our own struggles in life. Each of us are struggling to break that tackle that impedes us, to block the onrushing challenges that confront us each day.
At approximately 3:30pm on the 4th of September, 2010, 110,000 Maize and Blue clad fans will lustily cheer as the announcer declares "Band, take the field" thus beginning the sacred ceremony that will end in the Winged Warriors come a-chargin' from the bowels of Michigan Stadium.
No matter the result of the game, those 110,000 fans of all races, genders, political views, and religion, will have for three hours become One Voice. One voice singing "The Victors" after each Michigan touchdown, one voice groaning in agony after each score by the opponent.
That temporary unification is ultimately what makes this game so special. In a time where there is so much division we can always for four hours each fall Saturday apply the ointment of college football and experience the sensation of unanimous belief.
Let the games begin.
Much blood, sweat, and tears will be shed over these next glorious four months--and that just by the fans.Months of hard work in the off season--by players and staff alike--to get to the starting point of more than 3 months of arduous work.
No event in American life is more American than college football.The bands, the crowds, the tradition, the helmets, the mascots, and the passion of the fans create an atmosphere that no other sport can match. It is a mixture of carnival, theater, and sport.
In this grand game we Americans congregate to watch our fellow Americans grapple with each other and their physical limits to achieve victory on the field and in the soul.
We watch it because we relate. We care because the on the field battle is the physical manifestation of our own struggles in life. Each of us are struggling to break that tackle that impedes us, to block the onrushing challenges that confront us each day.
At approximately 3:30pm on the 4th of September, 2010, 110,000 Maize and Blue clad fans will lustily cheer as the announcer declares "Band, take the field" thus beginning the sacred ceremony that will end in the Winged Warriors come a-chargin' from the bowels of Michigan Stadium.
No matter the result of the game, those 110,000 fans of all races, genders, political views, and religion, will have for three hours become One Voice. One voice singing "The Victors" after each Michigan touchdown, one voice groaning in agony after each score by the opponent.
That temporary unification is ultimately what makes this game so special. In a time where there is so much division we can always for four hours each fall Saturday apply the ointment of college football and experience the sensation of unanimous belief.
Let the games begin.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Three Clods and a Country
In Washington DC, there gathered on this Saturday, the 28th of August,2010, a crowd of useful idiots. It was a multiracial, bipartisan affair, that saw two separate groups of true believers cry their hosannas whilst the Chosen One's preached their homilies.
These maddening crowds were lead by two of the preeminent demagogues of our age--the Rev. Al Sharpton and Glenn Beck--who each extolled the virtues of generations past and issued commands to their parishioners to "take back the country".
Such delightfully absurd human beings deserve a third member to fill out this unholy Trinity and we find that in the sometimes funny Jon Stewart, who while not in DC in person was there in spirit. The Spirit of Smarm aligned himself with the good Reverend by tearing into the apostate Beck on his television program, The Daily Show.
This representative assembly of America's bigoted, arrogant, and sanctimonious side on this glorious late summer day, is reminder enough of how many stupid people breath air each day.
For how can any intelligent person in full grasp of their mental faculties, follow such obviously narrow minded, obtuse people as Sharpton, Beck, and Stewart?How can anyone take seriously a Reverend, a TV personality, and a Comedian, on political issues?Not one member of this ignoble triumvirate has ever held office or been in a position to make decisions for large, diverse collection of human beings.
People ask why the news reports the barks of these dogs--I asked that myself today--and the answer is simple: people place great stock in what these men say.For whatever reason, they have been awarded credibility by large swaths of the American body politic.
That these are men of little intellectual power, there is no doubt. That these are men who will be mere footnotes in the history of the times, there is also no doubt.But their loud barking attracts hordes of lemmings wanting to be lead by people who share their parochial beliefs.Independent thought and thorough analysis are wasted on people already convinced that what they know is the truth. There is no possibility of doubt or an alteration of their view point.
If there is an excuse for this mindset, it is that we are all to an extent prisoners of our experiences. Everything we believe is filtered through the lens of our life. We have come to our beliefs by acquiring information through direct contact or taught to us by a secondary source.
A person who possesses a (relatively, for there are no minds free of prejudice)free mind will fight the mind's tendency to refer to the mental default we call prejudice and analyze a subject critically. Such people are rare in number in this world. Most human beings are guided by their preconceived notions when they think about a topic.
Demagogues like Sharpton and Beck know this, so they tailor their speeches to appeal to the prejudices of the people who listen to them. They feed off the paranoia, bigotry, and distrust of the crowds they are preaching to.Truth, justice, and tolerance are of little interest to men who made their careers and fortunes off of playing to the worst of our nature.
It is a sad irony that so near the statue of the Great Emancipator stood two men who represent a perversion of the ideals that Abraham Lincoln defended.
Lincoln sought unity among Americans, these men create division. He sought empathy and understanding, they sew intolerance and animus. He strove to reconnect a divided house, they are striving to partition it into several parts.
History has shown that our house can withstand such division if it is lead by men of exceptional ability. There has as of yet, been any sign that the United States has such leaders today.
These maddening crowds were lead by two of the preeminent demagogues of our age--the Rev. Al Sharpton and Glenn Beck--who each extolled the virtues of generations past and issued commands to their parishioners to "take back the country".
Such delightfully absurd human beings deserve a third member to fill out this unholy Trinity and we find that in the sometimes funny Jon Stewart, who while not in DC in person was there in spirit. The Spirit of Smarm aligned himself with the good Reverend by tearing into the apostate Beck on his television program, The Daily Show.
This representative assembly of America's bigoted, arrogant, and sanctimonious side on this glorious late summer day, is reminder enough of how many stupid people breath air each day.
For how can any intelligent person in full grasp of their mental faculties, follow such obviously narrow minded, obtuse people as Sharpton, Beck, and Stewart?How can anyone take seriously a Reverend, a TV personality, and a Comedian, on political issues?Not one member of this ignoble triumvirate has ever held office or been in a position to make decisions for large, diverse collection of human beings.
People ask why the news reports the barks of these dogs--I asked that myself today--and the answer is simple: people place great stock in what these men say.For whatever reason, they have been awarded credibility by large swaths of the American body politic.
That these are men of little intellectual power, there is no doubt. That these are men who will be mere footnotes in the history of the times, there is also no doubt.But their loud barking attracts hordes of lemmings wanting to be lead by people who share their parochial beliefs.Independent thought and thorough analysis are wasted on people already convinced that what they know is the truth. There is no possibility of doubt or an alteration of their view point.
If there is an excuse for this mindset, it is that we are all to an extent prisoners of our experiences. Everything we believe is filtered through the lens of our life. We have come to our beliefs by acquiring information through direct contact or taught to us by a secondary source.
A person who possesses a (relatively, for there are no minds free of prejudice)free mind will fight the mind's tendency to refer to the mental default we call prejudice and analyze a subject critically. Such people are rare in number in this world. Most human beings are guided by their preconceived notions when they think about a topic.
Demagogues like Sharpton and Beck know this, so they tailor their speeches to appeal to the prejudices of the people who listen to them. They feed off the paranoia, bigotry, and distrust of the crowds they are preaching to.Truth, justice, and tolerance are of little interest to men who made their careers and fortunes off of playing to the worst of our nature.
It is a sad irony that so near the statue of the Great Emancipator stood two men who represent a perversion of the ideals that Abraham Lincoln defended.
Lincoln sought unity among Americans, these men create division. He sought empathy and understanding, they sew intolerance and animus. He strove to reconnect a divided house, they are striving to partition it into several parts.
History has shown that our house can withstand such division if it is lead by men of exceptional ability. There has as of yet, been any sign that the United States has such leaders today.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Somewhere over the rainbow
Today I applied for a job at the Veteran's Administration Hospital in Ann Arbor as a "Civilian Pay Technician".Granted, it was not much of a improvement over what I do now, but at least I would be able to wear khaki and a nice shirt. The cheap polo and over sized pants of manual labor jobs no longer cut it.Plus, it offered a chance to make significantly more than I do now.
Alas, the Fates conspired against me for within minutes of applying I was summarily rejected because I did not have "status" which meant that I did not fit a certain criteria. To meet said criteria, I had to be a veteran, a mentally disabled person, or both to be eligible to bid for the position.Basically, was I was disqualifed because I a fully functioning civilian.
Thus ends another chapter in the story of a man's pursuit of a financially and emotionally fulfilling job.A story filled so far with disappointment, frustration, and a pointed lack of initiative.
To be quite frank, my search for a better job has been intermittent. I have had periods of great activity followed by much longer periods of languor.I have spent more time bitching about my current position than actually looking for a new one.
At 33, I cannot afford such extravagant use of time.I should be identifying what kind of job I want, determine the means to the end, and do it.
If that means pursuing a Master's Degree in History, so be it. If that means taking courses to learn website design, so be it.But whatever it is, I need to make a move.
It is a fear of mine that my intellect is going to calcify from the lack of use in this place. My job is something a lemur could be trained to do. It is simple manual labor with no skills required to do the job other than being able to speak and read English. Some of my co-workers even struggle with those bare minimum requirements.
I feel like Dorothy from "The Wizard of Oz", wistfully looking out at the Rainbow and wondering what is beyond the narrow confines of Kansas.
Somewhere over the Rainbow
Way up high
There's a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby.
Now I just have to find the goddamn Rainbow.
Alas, the Fates conspired against me for within minutes of applying I was summarily rejected because I did not have "status" which meant that I did not fit a certain criteria. To meet said criteria, I had to be a veteran, a mentally disabled person, or both to be eligible to bid for the position.Basically, was I was disqualifed because I a fully functioning civilian.
Thus ends another chapter in the story of a man's pursuit of a financially and emotionally fulfilling job.A story filled so far with disappointment, frustration, and a pointed lack of initiative.
To be quite frank, my search for a better job has been intermittent. I have had periods of great activity followed by much longer periods of languor.I have spent more time bitching about my current position than actually looking for a new one.
At 33, I cannot afford such extravagant use of time.I should be identifying what kind of job I want, determine the means to the end, and do it.
If that means pursuing a Master's Degree in History, so be it. If that means taking courses to learn website design, so be it.But whatever it is, I need to make a move.
It is a fear of mine that my intellect is going to calcify from the lack of use in this place. My job is something a lemur could be trained to do. It is simple manual labor with no skills required to do the job other than being able to speak and read English. Some of my co-workers even struggle with those bare minimum requirements.
I feel like Dorothy from "The Wizard of Oz", wistfully looking out at the Rainbow and wondering what is beyond the narrow confines of Kansas.
Somewhere over the Rainbow
Way up high
There's a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby.
Now I just have to find the goddamn Rainbow.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Burned out
The bleakest part of my day is when I slide my identification card into the time clock to begin my shift.It is a struggle to deal with the annoying fact that I am a college educated man working a manual labor job that offers no opportunity for career growth. Stockkeeping is the exact definition of a dead end job.
It takes all that I have to put on my McDonald's-style uniform and trudge into the hospital without unleashing all my frustration and contempt in a maniacal scream.It takes a great effort to tolerate the rampant stupidity, indolence, and incompetence of my workplace without my head popping like a balloon.
This job is slowly, steadily, squeezing me, causing a feeling of suffocation akin to that which a victim of a boa constrictor feels as the boa tightens its grip around its meal.Struggling is futile for the grip of the Snake relentlessly, mercilessly, increases until its victim can no longer breath the sustaining air of Hope.
Mistake this not for a plea for pity, for I do not deserve such magnanimous treatment. It is I who placed myself in this strait jacket.To assign blame to anyone other than myself would be a gross injustice.
To borrow a familiar political slogan, it is Time for a Change. It is time to slay the Snake that has coiled itself around my being. It is a time to do, not to say.
It takes all that I have to put on my McDonald's-style uniform and trudge into the hospital without unleashing all my frustration and contempt in a maniacal scream.It takes a great effort to tolerate the rampant stupidity, indolence, and incompetence of my workplace without my head popping like a balloon.
This job is slowly, steadily, squeezing me, causing a feeling of suffocation akin to that which a victim of a boa constrictor feels as the boa tightens its grip around its meal.Struggling is futile for the grip of the Snake relentlessly, mercilessly, increases until its victim can no longer breath the sustaining air of Hope.
Mistake this not for a plea for pity, for I do not deserve such magnanimous treatment. It is I who placed myself in this strait jacket.To assign blame to anyone other than myself would be a gross injustice.
To borrow a familiar political slogan, it is Time for a Change. It is time to slay the Snake that has coiled itself around my being. It is a time to do, not to say.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
An object of desire who is now not so desirable
There was a time I had a taken a fancy to a lady with whom I worked with.She possessed the sweet temperament and physical characteristics that I found to be very appealing.I thought perhaps that she would be someone I could date.
Alas, she has turned out to be a frog and not a princess.
Such a conclusion was not reached because of any personal foibles on her part, but as the result of acknowledging a disconnect between her and I. We simply have no chemistry, no spark.We are incompatible.
To be frank, I have always felt that something was lacking when I was around her. Although I always found her to be attractive, there seemed to be a certain hollowness to those feelings.There was no strong ardor for her. The intense interest a man takes in the woman he pursues was absent in this instance.
I finally recognized this from a psychological standpoint yesterday when we were discussing the use of the word "sexy". She used it to describe the food she made the previous day on her Facebook page. The misuse of a word is no terrible sin, everyone does that from time to time. But what struck me was my irritation over her indifference to proper word usage. It had finally occurred to me what bothered me about her.
She is a simple girl. She is not stupid,but nor is she a thinker. She is not one to spend time brooding over subjects other than those which relate directly to her.Her life is one of attending social events, cooking, and watching movies. That is a perfectly acceptable life. I do those things as well.
But what I realized is that I need a girl who is deeper than that. I need a woman who thinks, who explores her emotions and beliefs, who has a passion and reverence for learning.
She is not the one who can provide those things.She is a girl who needs a man who works and plays much, but thinks little.She is not an intellectual nor should she ever try to be. She is fine just as she is.
No matter how pleasing she is to the eyes or how mellifluous her voice is, the cruel truth is that she and I are not meant to be a We.
Alas, she has turned out to be a frog and not a princess.
Such a conclusion was not reached because of any personal foibles on her part, but as the result of acknowledging a disconnect between her and I. We simply have no chemistry, no spark.We are incompatible.
To be frank, I have always felt that something was lacking when I was around her. Although I always found her to be attractive, there seemed to be a certain hollowness to those feelings.There was no strong ardor for her. The intense interest a man takes in the woman he pursues was absent in this instance.
I finally recognized this from a psychological standpoint yesterday when we were discussing the use of the word "sexy". She used it to describe the food she made the previous day on her Facebook page. The misuse of a word is no terrible sin, everyone does that from time to time. But what struck me was my irritation over her indifference to proper word usage. It had finally occurred to me what bothered me about her.
She is a simple girl. She is not stupid,but nor is she a thinker. She is not one to spend time brooding over subjects other than those which relate directly to her.Her life is one of attending social events, cooking, and watching movies. That is a perfectly acceptable life. I do those things as well.
But what I realized is that I need a girl who is deeper than that. I need a woman who thinks, who explores her emotions and beliefs, who has a passion and reverence for learning.
She is not the one who can provide those things.She is a girl who needs a man who works and plays much, but thinks little.She is not an intellectual nor should she ever try to be. She is fine just as she is.
No matter how pleasing she is to the eyes or how mellifluous her voice is, the cruel truth is that she and I are not meant to be a We.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
The Loquacious Lout
There lives in the suburban jungle of southeast Michigan, a man of great insignificance. A man who is so notoriously pathetic that children speak of him only in between the gales of laughter that fill the air when he strolls past. He is such a superb example of a"loser" that Merriam Webster once requested his photo to use as a visual representation of the word in their dictionary.
But despite being renowned as a schmuck, this man moves through life deaf to the scornful comments of passersby and blind to the mocking antics of co-workers. He is securely ensconced in a state of insensibility to the world's opinion of him.(Would we not all wish to be so fortune to be blessed with such a magnificent talent?)
Why you may ask, is this man worth words? Why am I writing of him if he is such an abject failure as a man?
I write of him because this man of such negligible intelligence, athletic ability and charisma, speaks so highly of himself that one would think they were talking to a Renaissance Man. Few in the course of history equal this man's talent for self-delusion.
His perception of himself is at such odds with the reality of who he actually is, that one can scarcely prevent themself from breaking out in howls of laughter when he goes on one of his monologues about his alleged illustrious past.
This is a man of middle age who has resided with his parents for the past decade, has filed for bankruptcy twice, been conned out of money by the the Nigerian bank scam, saw his account debited for one hundred million dollars, and who routinely makes bigoted statements about homosexuals, blacks, and muslims. Does this sound like a man who has done much with his life?
When one listens to the ramblings of this nincompoop, they can only quietly wait for the end of the vacuous spiel, for to interject is to invite a torrent of inane comments that will lengthen the suffering of the listener.
How can one argue with someone who thinks illegals should be shot? Who believes that only blacks were descended from apes ? Who reads an article on Global Warming and declares it fraudalent as if he is some sort of expert on the subject though he only has a high school education?
To augment his exceptional ignorance, is the Lout's amazing inability to respect and consider the merits of opinions that differ from his own. Dumb in his case describes both his intellectual AND listening ability.
From the Loquacious Lout's mouth, come many words. But from those many words come very little of value.
But despite being renowned as a schmuck, this man moves through life deaf to the scornful comments of passersby and blind to the mocking antics of co-workers. He is securely ensconced in a state of insensibility to the world's opinion of him.(Would we not all wish to be so fortune to be blessed with such a magnificent talent?)
Why you may ask, is this man worth words? Why am I writing of him if he is such an abject failure as a man?
I write of him because this man of such negligible intelligence, athletic ability and charisma, speaks so highly of himself that one would think they were talking to a Renaissance Man. Few in the course of history equal this man's talent for self-delusion.
His perception of himself is at such odds with the reality of who he actually is, that one can scarcely prevent themself from breaking out in howls of laughter when he goes on one of his monologues about his alleged illustrious past.
This is a man of middle age who has resided with his parents for the past decade, has filed for bankruptcy twice, been conned out of money by the the Nigerian bank scam, saw his account debited for one hundred million dollars, and who routinely makes bigoted statements about homosexuals, blacks, and muslims. Does this sound like a man who has done much with his life?
When one listens to the ramblings of this nincompoop, they can only quietly wait for the end of the vacuous spiel, for to interject is to invite a torrent of inane comments that will lengthen the suffering of the listener.
How can one argue with someone who thinks illegals should be shot? Who believes that only blacks were descended from apes ? Who reads an article on Global Warming and declares it fraudalent as if he is some sort of expert on the subject though he only has a high school education?
To augment his exceptional ignorance, is the Lout's amazing inability to respect and consider the merits of opinions that differ from his own. Dumb in his case describes both his intellectual AND listening ability.
From the Loquacious Lout's mouth, come many words. But from those many words come very little of value.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Dancing with Mediocrity
The most contemptible behavior a man can exhibit is to accept mediocrity into his life, for mediocrity is neither a positive or a negative.It is merely neutral. It is as inconsequential as walking a step and as irrelevant as the rants of a 47 -year old man who lives with his parents.
A man who welcomes mediocrity into his life welcomes a life of perpetual unhappiness that is seemingly always landing upon the bankrupt slot in the Wheel of Fortune of life.
The most odious element of this mediocrity is where it originates--the man himself. The man--out of laziness or lack of confidence--permits the growth of this tumor until it metathesizes into full fledged mediocrity. Such a development is fatal for a man who desires a life of fulfillment for it so dulls his ambition that he becomes ensnared in a goo of mediocrity that leaves him much like a fly in amber.
Mediocrity means different things for different people. For some, it means being stuck in a loveless marriage unable or unwilling to leave because of kids or financial reasons.For others it is working a job that they find to be deeply dissatisfying from a pecuniary and professional standpoint.
It infects people of all categories. It knows not race, gender, national origin, or or physical state.It is a universal poisoner of souls.
Tragically, the author finds himself infected with this virus. It has blackened his moods, tarnished his aspect to the outside world, and left him a deeply unhappy man futility searching for love and a career on the Internet.
For this I went to college? For this I took on $20,000 in debt?How did I permit myself to get to this point? He asks himself these questions over and over,hoping in vain to find an answer that will let him disperse the black cloud of shame that hangs over him.
But it is a pointless endeavor for the blame lies with the person who inhabits his skin.That is the man responsible for the dastardly deed of dancing with mediocrity.
A man who welcomes mediocrity into his life welcomes a life of perpetual unhappiness that is seemingly always landing upon the bankrupt slot in the Wheel of Fortune of life.
The most odious element of this mediocrity is where it originates--the man himself. The man--out of laziness or lack of confidence--permits the growth of this tumor until it metathesizes into full fledged mediocrity. Such a development is fatal for a man who desires a life of fulfillment for it so dulls his ambition that he becomes ensnared in a goo of mediocrity that leaves him much like a fly in amber.
Mediocrity means different things for different people. For some, it means being stuck in a loveless marriage unable or unwilling to leave because of kids or financial reasons.For others it is working a job that they find to be deeply dissatisfying from a pecuniary and professional standpoint.
It infects people of all categories. It knows not race, gender, national origin, or or physical state.It is a universal poisoner of souls.
Tragically, the author finds himself infected with this virus. It has blackened his moods, tarnished his aspect to the outside world, and left him a deeply unhappy man futility searching for love and a career on the Internet.
For this I went to college? For this I took on $20,000 in debt?How did I permit myself to get to this point? He asks himself these questions over and over,hoping in vain to find an answer that will let him disperse the black cloud of shame that hangs over him.
But it is a pointless endeavor for the blame lies with the person who inhabits his skin.That is the man responsible for the dastardly deed of dancing with mediocrity.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
A notch on the bedpost
Bedding, humping, sexin', f**king...what is it about sexual conquests? Why is it so satisfying for some people to have "conquered" sexually another? What is so gratifying about placing your penis inside the vagina of many different women? Sexual pleasure can be found as easily with one person as with a hundred.
I find such behavior curious.Not because of the sex element--that is a natural urge--but the aftermath. The crowing over achieving an orgasm with a woman others find desirable, is juvenile. You had sex, something every creature in the Animal Kingdom does. Congrats on that achievement.
My friends and I laugh at such ridiculous people. What is the point other than physical pleasure? Are these people so shallow that simply experiencing sexual ecstasy is enough to satiate their desires? What about establishing a deep and lasting emotional bond that enhances the physical part of a relationship?
I work at a hospital. At this hospital there are many attractive women, many of whom I would like to have relations with.But I have learned to control the raw carnal lust I feel through certain means because I need more than a one night stand to be satisfied. I want more than a fling, I want something that is pleasurable emotionally as well as physically.
Males in this country have gotten it in their heads that you are not a man until you have laid down with a woman. What a perfectly asinine mentality.
Simply having sex does not make you a man. What makes you a man is suffering life's defeats with the same measured response that you enjoy life's victories. What makes you a man is doing what needs to be done no matter how unpleasant you find the task.What makes you a man is giving yourself entirely to your family so they can be happy. That is a man.
Exhibiting promiscuous behavior is something adolescent boys do because they haven't the maturity yet to understand what love is. Teenage boys have not learned to manage their lust, to conquer their out-of-control sexual yearning for members of the opposite sex.That is why they are boys and not men.
In contrast, a man knows how to control his lust. He has reined in the sexual monster that resides inside him.He only unleashes that beast when he is with the woman he loves.
For this man, sex is not a moment for physical pleasure, but the manifestation of a deep emotional bond he shares with his partner. They in the act of love making become as close to melding into one as is humanly possible.
Sleeping around is the act of a emotionally stunted man who hasn't a clue how to form an abiding relationship with a woman. He may physically be a man, but emotionally he is just a boy.
I find such behavior curious.Not because of the sex element--that is a natural urge--but the aftermath. The crowing over achieving an orgasm with a woman others find desirable, is juvenile. You had sex, something every creature in the Animal Kingdom does. Congrats on that achievement.
My friends and I laugh at such ridiculous people. What is the point other than physical pleasure? Are these people so shallow that simply experiencing sexual ecstasy is enough to satiate their desires? What about establishing a deep and lasting emotional bond that enhances the physical part of a relationship?
I work at a hospital. At this hospital there are many attractive women, many of whom I would like to have relations with.But I have learned to control the raw carnal lust I feel through certain means because I need more than a one night stand to be satisfied. I want more than a fling, I want something that is pleasurable emotionally as well as physically.
Males in this country have gotten it in their heads that you are not a man until you have laid down with a woman. What a perfectly asinine mentality.
Simply having sex does not make you a man. What makes you a man is suffering life's defeats with the same measured response that you enjoy life's victories. What makes you a man is doing what needs to be done no matter how unpleasant you find the task.What makes you a man is giving yourself entirely to your family so they can be happy. That is a man.
Exhibiting promiscuous behavior is something adolescent boys do because they haven't the maturity yet to understand what love is. Teenage boys have not learned to manage their lust, to conquer their out-of-control sexual yearning for members of the opposite sex.That is why they are boys and not men.
In contrast, a man knows how to control his lust. He has reined in the sexual monster that resides inside him.He only unleashes that beast when he is with the woman he loves.
For this man, sex is not a moment for physical pleasure, but the manifestation of a deep emotional bond he shares with his partner. They in the act of love making become as close to melding into one as is humanly possible.
Sleeping around is the act of a emotionally stunted man who hasn't a clue how to form an abiding relationship with a woman. He may physically be a man, but emotionally he is just a boy.
What's in a name?
In the play Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare tells us what he thinks of the importance of a name by having Juliet express these famous words:
What's in a name?That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell just as sweet.
Such an notion is foreign to me for my name is that which means most, not the volatile affections of a woman.A name that represents love, loyalty, and a bond that much deeper than blood.
The name Quattro means more because it was those who carried that name who loved and cared for me. It was from the Quattros where I acquired my values and talents. It was from them that I learned what it takes to be a man.
One could say that the name Quattro is a mere label, that what I cherish most about it comes from people and not the name itself. That is true to a certain extent. A name is just a label we have assigned to each other to differentiate among clans throughout the ages.One should not forget the fact that a name is symbolic and not tangible item we can touch.
But symbolism is of great importance to man. We have flags, icons, images on currency, music...symbolism is everywhere in human culture.Humans have invested a tremendous of emotion into such objects, words, or concepts for what they mean to us.It is ignorant to suggest that symbolism is of little relevance for human behavior tells us otherwise.
I love my family not because of a name, but for what they are. To that extent, I agree with Shakespeare's assertion that a name is inconsequential.
I cherish my name for it represents who I and where I came from. Quattro defines me to the outside world. It is that name I was destined to bear before I was born and it is the name that will be chiseled into my tombstone. It is a name that is as dear to my heart as a rose given from one love to another.
What's in a name?That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell just as sweet.
Such an notion is foreign to me for my name is that which means most, not the volatile affections of a woman.A name that represents love, loyalty, and a bond that much deeper than blood.
The name Quattro means more because it was those who carried that name who loved and cared for me. It was from the Quattros where I acquired my values and talents. It was from them that I learned what it takes to be a man.
One could say that the name Quattro is a mere label, that what I cherish most about it comes from people and not the name itself. That is true to a certain extent. A name is just a label we have assigned to each other to differentiate among clans throughout the ages.One should not forget the fact that a name is symbolic and not tangible item we can touch.
But symbolism is of great importance to man. We have flags, icons, images on currency, music...symbolism is everywhere in human culture.Humans have invested a tremendous of emotion into such objects, words, or concepts for what they mean to us.It is ignorant to suggest that symbolism is of little relevance for human behavior tells us otherwise.
I love my family not because of a name, but for what they are. To that extent, I agree with Shakespeare's assertion that a name is inconsequential.
I cherish my name for it represents who I and where I came from. Quattro defines me to the outside world. It is that name I was destined to bear before I was born and it is the name that will be chiseled into my tombstone. It is a name that is as dear to my heart as a rose given from one love to another.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
An extraordinary resiliency
These are hard times we live in. 10 percent unemployment, two wars, a exploding national deficit, a faltering economy, oil spills, earthquakes,serial killers...this is the most troubled time since...last year.
Does the world ever really change? The earliest written sources indicate that persons who lived eons ago experienced much the same as we--a world full of tumult and at times, seemingly tilting towards chaos. Yet, this bountiful sphere's inhabitants continue on.
Through the earth shattering, dinosaur-destroying cataclysmic asteroid to the Black Death that nearly wiped out Europe to the man made holocaust we call World War II, life on this planet has managed to survive it all.
At times it has been a close run thing, but still life has preservered.Life is refuses to go silently into the night. It clings obstinately to existence.
Oh, we humans have tried to squash live. Wars, murders, environmental degradation, unrestrained hunting..we have striven to end life with the alacrity of a child in an easter egg hunt.
But inspite of our finest efforts, we have failed to eliminate that which is most precious--and resilient--life. But still Life marches on, plagued by people and things that threaten it, it resolutely refuses to surrender its physical being in this world.
How extraordinary resilient this life is.
Does the world ever really change? The earliest written sources indicate that persons who lived eons ago experienced much the same as we--a world full of tumult and at times, seemingly tilting towards chaos. Yet, this bountiful sphere's inhabitants continue on.
Through the earth shattering, dinosaur-destroying cataclysmic asteroid to the Black Death that nearly wiped out Europe to the man made holocaust we call World War II, life on this planet has managed to survive it all.
At times it has been a close run thing, but still life has preservered.Life is refuses to go silently into the night. It clings obstinately to existence.
Oh, we humans have tried to squash live. Wars, murders, environmental degradation, unrestrained hunting..we have striven to end life with the alacrity of a child in an easter egg hunt.
But inspite of our finest efforts, we have failed to eliminate that which is most precious--and resilient--life. But still Life marches on, plagued by people and things that threaten it, it resolutely refuses to surrender its physical being in this world.
How extraordinary resilient this life is.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Perspective
I have expended many a word on this blog complaining about what is wrong with my life. My unsatisfying job, lack of girlfriend, loneliness... basically, I have spent much time wallowing in my misery.
But sometimes there are moments in our lives that give someone as self absorbed as I, cause to think about what is truly tragic. Today had one of those moments.
I stock supply rooms on the 4th floor of the University of Michigan Hospital. On one of the 4 subunits(A,B,C, and D) there works a young Nurse's Aid who cannot be much older than 20. I had not seen this young lady in a long time until today.
When I first saw her I did not immediately recognize her for she had one of the cancer turbans chemotherapy patients wear. I was simultaneously shocked and sadden when I realized that I knew her.
Though I have no clue as to her name and have spoken but a few words to her, she has always worked with a sunny disposition and treated co-workers and patients with kindness.
It may seem peculiar that I am touched by a singular personal tragedy when I work in a building full of them, but the familiarity is what makes this one poignant. One can become inured to the individual calamities that surround you when you are around them everyday. But when the same thing happens to a person you work next too, it is as if you were stricken by a bolt of lightning.
How can such a thing happen to someone so young, vibrant, and sweet natured? How?Life can be so cruel.
But the cruelty of life is not why I am writing this entry.The reason for my writing this is to remind myself and whomever reads this, that life is challenging for us all. Many are faced with even greater trials than we have before us. The situation in this entry highlights that fact.
Few people in this world have it easy.The vast majority of humanity is dealing with troubles of some kind. But some are worse off than most. We should never forget when we are pondering our own difficulties.
But sometimes there are moments in our lives that give someone as self absorbed as I, cause to think about what is truly tragic. Today had one of those moments.
I stock supply rooms on the 4th floor of the University of Michigan Hospital. On one of the 4 subunits(A,B,C, and D) there works a young Nurse's Aid who cannot be much older than 20. I had not seen this young lady in a long time until today.
When I first saw her I did not immediately recognize her for she had one of the cancer turbans chemotherapy patients wear. I was simultaneously shocked and sadden when I realized that I knew her.
Though I have no clue as to her name and have spoken but a few words to her, she has always worked with a sunny disposition and treated co-workers and patients with kindness.
It may seem peculiar that I am touched by a singular personal tragedy when I work in a building full of them, but the familiarity is what makes this one poignant. One can become inured to the individual calamities that surround you when you are around them everyday. But when the same thing happens to a person you work next too, it is as if you were stricken by a bolt of lightning.
How can such a thing happen to someone so young, vibrant, and sweet natured? How?Life can be so cruel.
But the cruelty of life is not why I am writing this entry.The reason for my writing this is to remind myself and whomever reads this, that life is challenging for us all. Many are faced with even greater trials than we have before us. The situation in this entry highlights that fact.
Few people in this world have it easy.The vast majority of humanity is dealing with troubles of some kind. But some are worse off than most. We should never forget when we are pondering our own difficulties.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Falling is hard on your knees
It is typical of the luck I have with women. After months of sorting through my feelings for a co -worker, I decided to make an effort to insinuate myself into her life so I could better my chances to have the opportunity to date her. With impeccable timing, she announces her intent to move to Las Vegas once she finds a job as a dental assistant.
Poof! In an instance, my hopes are smashed into a million smithereens. Gone are the dreams of me cradling her in my arms watching some B movie or us sharing a ice cream cone at Dairy Queen. Forbidden are the hopes of staring deeply into her azure eyes ,gently caressing her soft skin, with our lips locked in a loving embrace.
Heartbroken is not an appropriate label for how I feel,for I had not even reached the stage of close friend. My current position is analogous to that of a pledge to a fraternity. I am in the midst of applying to be a member of her club.
Disappointment would be a more accurate description of my current mental state. I was just getting into her and now this. Typical
It has happened with every girl I have liked.Boy meets girl;boy becomes infatuated with girl; boy says nothing to girl for months; boy then overcomes his trepidation and starts slow paced pursuit of girl; by then girl has either met someone else or has dissipated from boy's life.
Poof! In an instance, my hopes are smashed into a million smithereens. Gone are the dreams of me cradling her in my arms watching some B movie or us sharing a ice cream cone at Dairy Queen. Forbidden are the hopes of staring deeply into her azure eyes ,gently caressing her soft skin, with our lips locked in a loving embrace.
Heartbroken is not an appropriate label for how I feel,for I had not even reached the stage of close friend. My current position is analogous to that of a pledge to a fraternity. I am in the midst of applying to be a member of her club.
Disappointment would be a more accurate description of my current mental state. I was just getting into her and now this. Typical
It has happened with every girl I have liked.Boy meets girl;boy becomes infatuated with girl; boy says nothing to girl for months; boy then overcomes his trepidation and starts slow paced pursuit of girl; by then girl has either met someone else or has dissipated from boy's life.
I deserve no sympathy. I have earned my "available" status with my passive and frankly,wimpy approach to women. I am a coward when it comes to garnering the affections of a woman.My timidity is owed to a lack of confidence and experience with the humans who bear the XX chromosome.
But that is not a legitimate excuse for my cravenly conduct.It is of no use to explain why I have not done something because it does not alter the fact that I am a coward.
There are and will be other women--the delectable brunette nurse on the 4th floor for one example--but the neophyte dental assistant has caught my fancy. A fancy I shall not lose very easily.A fancy I know I will have to purge from my mind so as to avoid the crushing sense of disappointment I will feel when she leaves for the City of The Meadows.
But feelings of regret, sadness, and disgust will remain as they always have after the conclusion of every infatuation/ non-relationship I have experienced since puberty.Regret for never having actually undertaken a determined pursuit through the years I have known her; Sadness at the elimination of the potential happiness I could have experienced;Disgust for my inability to overcome my neuroses.
I wish I could say that next time will be different.That next time I will be more aggressive in my pursuit;that I will pull out all the stops;that I will become more Superman than Clark Kent.
But I can't.That is why I will always be the meek, bespectacled guy who makes all laugh, yet who has no one to laugh with.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Interminable loneliness
I sit. I sit alone in mind, body, and soul in this world. I have no lover, no best friend, no soul mate.I sit alone.
Whilst these spring from my fingers, I see young couples in mutual thrall to the demands of romance, mothers cooing to their swaddled infants, and families taking in the climactic pleasures of a warm August day in the mitten.They are a flock of birds together, I a solitary crow flying solo across this land.
This loneliness is insufferable. It suffocates my soul, it permeates my being. It fouls my moods, threatening to tear asunder my spirit.It is the rain on a wedding day, it is a warm blanket turned wet.
What to do, what to do about this ferocious beast that shreds my spirit, that murders my happiness? What to do about the shadow of the monster that blackens my day? What shall I do?
Shall I venture to the local watering holes to satiate my thirst for female companionship? Shall the drinking of libations transform this meek scribe into a fearless gladiator who conquers the mighty lioness?Or will I be just another drunken fool foiled in his attempt to find carnal pleasures at a cheap rate?
Maybe dating websites are the the place to meet members of the fairer gender.Shall I venture into the mysterious realm of Internet dating?A world inhabited by the lonely, desperate, and those seeking to take advantage of them?
Perhaps work place romances are the way to go? Is it the dark haired Irish girl in the office the one? Or is it the pouty lipped brunette nurse? Perhaps it is a face yet discovered.
But with certainty I know this: the savage creature must be slayed.Unending, relentless, loneliness must be replaced by the unending, relentless, love of a Juliet.
Whilst these spring from my fingers, I see young couples in mutual thrall to the demands of romance, mothers cooing to their swaddled infants, and families taking in the climactic pleasures of a warm August day in the mitten.They are a flock of birds together, I a solitary crow flying solo across this land.
This loneliness is insufferable. It suffocates my soul, it permeates my being. It fouls my moods, threatening to tear asunder my spirit.It is the rain on a wedding day, it is a warm blanket turned wet.
What to do, what to do about this ferocious beast that shreds my spirit, that murders my happiness? What to do about the shadow of the monster that blackens my day? What shall I do?
Shall I venture to the local watering holes to satiate my thirst for female companionship? Shall the drinking of libations transform this meek scribe into a fearless gladiator who conquers the mighty lioness?Or will I be just another drunken fool foiled in his attempt to find carnal pleasures at a cheap rate?
Maybe dating websites are the the place to meet members of the fairer gender.Shall I venture into the mysterious realm of Internet dating?A world inhabited by the lonely, desperate, and those seeking to take advantage of them?
Perhaps work place romances are the way to go? Is it the dark haired Irish girl in the office the one? Or is it the pouty lipped brunette nurse? Perhaps it is a face yet discovered.
But with certainty I know this: the savage creature must be slayed.Unending, relentless, loneliness must be replaced by the unending, relentless, love of a Juliet.
Monday, August 2, 2010
An Angry Man
I am angry. Angry at the world, at my dead mother, at my boss, at my co-workers. I am angry at the world that I live in.
But the above are not the source of my discontent.Rather they are easy targets. It is much easier to direct my ire at the surrounding impersonal world, than to point the finger at who really is the cause of my unhappiness.
Who exactly is the culprit? Who is the person who is to blame for my misery? For my loneliness? For my anger?
To quote De La Soul, "It's just me, myself, and I". That is the infamous criminal who has stolen the smiles from my life, who has tortured my soul, who has maliciously snuffed out the joy in my life. It is I who is responsible for this personal tragedy.
What is a life without laughter, without joy, without happiness? One that hasn't the value of a single piece of Pez.
How shall I vanquish this terrible foe? How shall I slay the emotional dragon that terrorizes my soul?
I am Arthur seeking Excalibur. I am in a quest to seek the weapon that can smite that which oppresses my soul. I am Angryman no more.
But the above are not the source of my discontent.Rather they are easy targets. It is much easier to direct my ire at the surrounding impersonal world, than to point the finger at who really is the cause of my unhappiness.
Who exactly is the culprit? Who is the person who is to blame for my misery? For my loneliness? For my anger?
To quote De La Soul, "It's just me, myself, and I". That is the infamous criminal who has stolen the smiles from my life, who has tortured my soul, who has maliciously snuffed out the joy in my life. It is I who is responsible for this personal tragedy.
What is a life without laughter, without joy, without happiness? One that hasn't the value of a single piece of Pez.
How shall I vanquish this terrible foe? How shall I slay the emotional dragon that terrorizes my soul?
I am Arthur seeking Excalibur. I am in a quest to seek the weapon that can smite that which oppresses my soul. I am Angryman no more.
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