07 December 2009
ice cream dance
credits:
CLH - guru filmographer + rubber
lolo - professional shaker
beto - comedoro
jenkins - head bobber of all trades
lacycle - spoon dancer
27 November 2009
transformer. geek in disguise.
how friggin geeky of a title. just yesterday it would have been too embarrassing for me to actually type it, read it, and decide to leave and publish it. but not today. i've just decided to embrace a side of me i never new, cheesy titles and all.
i'm slipping into computer geekdom.
but this is all sort of new to me. see, i've spent my whole life firmly outside of the magic-card-playing, sweat-pants-wearin', dark-basement-with-neon-lit-keyboard-living, l33t-writing, computer geek crowd. and i fully intend to continue outside of this sad, weird world.
but, some things are changing.
i'm finding that i actually like programming, for starters. yup. the new thrill of my life is not traveling to exciting unexplored universes, strapping on a flying squirrel suit and jumping off cliffs, or frequenting swingers bars. i now get ecstatic when my little black screen correctly computes simple equations, encrypts text, and interacts flawlessly with the user. yes, the user. this is how i now refer to non-programmers.
i am now giving serious thought to combining my degree with computing technology. after all, then i could actually take a whole course on databases and spreadsheets. eeeeii!
i'm slipping into computer geekdom.
but this is all sort of new to me. see, i've spent my whole life firmly outside of the magic-card-playing, sweat-pants-wearin', dark-basement-with-neon-lit-keyboard-living, l33t-writing, computer geek crowd. and i fully intend to continue outside of this sad, weird world.
but, some things are changing.
i'm finding that i actually like programming, for starters. yup. the new thrill of my life is not traveling to exciting unexplored universes, strapping on a flying squirrel suit and jumping off cliffs, or frequenting swingers bars. i now get ecstatic when my little black screen correctly computes simple equations, encrypts text, and interacts flawlessly with the user. yes, the user. this is how i now refer to non-programmers.
i am now giving serious thought to combining my degree with computing technology. after all, then i could actually take a whole course on databases and spreadsheets. eeeeii!
dumpster diving.
i know what i'll be doing next summer:
step 1 is to weld a really, really big bike trailer....
23 November 2009
columbus' teabagging spawn, punked
maybe a similar tactic can be employed to convince americans that "eskimo" is NOT OKAY to be using, especially on, oh say, the daily show--ahem, john stewart. just so we're on the same page, it's really friggin embarrassing to share his great political humor with friends, but also have to try to explain why he is using a pejorative word for inuit or first nations peoples of the north. "so, yeah... it's okay. he's american and it's different there...." i trail off then say, "actually. he's being a real asshole. sorry."
i know, i know. this may fall into one of those canadian/american things... and we all know where i usually fall on that, but not this time. this time, i'm siding with the canucks and greenlanders. i think a better, more inclusive, and less historically harmful word can be used to convey the same meaning. plus, this inuit stuff isn't a new invention. the inuit circumpolar conference meeting in ALASKA (in the good ol' u s of a) designated inuit for all eskimos in 1977. 19 friggen seventy-seven. i was not even a star in my mother's eye then, but i'm telling you now: not cool.
that's right, no more "quinn the eskimo" or "the only gay eskimo" or other stupid songs. and, please, no more comments on an otherwise thoughtful satirical television show. i'm fine with covering your ass for the potty humor, but not the racial slurs, man.
13 November 2009
capitalism: a work story
the carrot at the end of my mid-term stick was seeing michael moore's new movie, capitalism: a love story. "what is the price that america pays for its love of capitalism?" sounds like a light-hearted, feel good film just made for a break from studying!
and it was.
there was no anticipated shock to the system while learning about the fleecing of america (i helped out at left bank, remember?). instead the film surprisingly gave me needed justification to my own feelings about my role as a worker. not in the "i'm justifiably angry for being laid off/being swindled/my retirement funds being lost/losing my home/failing at the american dream/etc" kind of feelings. i'm talking about having a job many people would love to have and feeling un-understandably icky about it so often.
see, being back in school and having swapped any boss/employee contract for a (similarly but differently imbalanced) educator/student relationship, i have the unique opportunity to reflect on things like work. i always felt like something--some big thing--was a miss while working at a job that likely amounted to many people's dream jobs:
i was paid to travel to exciting places for several weeks a year; i could wear and generally do whatever i wanted at the office as long as work got done; i could work independently and was never micromanaged; i was strongly encouraged to partake in outdoor sports--the burlier the better; i enjoyed my colleagues' company (yes, each and every one of them) and would spend considerable time with them outside of work (many remain very close friends); i could invent new challenges for myself and was generally given the freedom to pursue them; i had a comfortable office with a view of the mountains and great natural light; i had nearly a month of paid vacation and rarely worked more than forty hours a week. the list of real, honest to goodness positives goes on and on.
by all accounts i should have been grateful to ever have haplessly stumbled into such an amazing job and held tightly to it as though it were the holy grail. but, good times as it might have been, i never felt completely satisfied. granted, no job could (or should) make a person completely fulfilled, but something still seemed to be missing. i would unintentionally, almost instinctually, curl up my nose at times and then feel like a spoiled child for doing so. a war raged inside: am i ungrateful? am i too idealistic? asking too much? what's my problem?
i had reservations about the effects of my work. what is truly green/sustainable/socially-responsible/pro-poor/eco tourism? and do we wield a big green brush instead of making real waves? what is carbon offsetting and who/what does it really support? what does it mean to have an office in the united states? and how much money really does sink deep into the economies of the places to where our clients travel? how do i feel about traveling so much (30+ flights in two years)? at least we are always better than....
how do our clients make all of their money? how does catering to their often inflated sense of comfort effect the environment or the communities to where they travel? what is the balance between luxury and service and responsibility or authenticity? are we selling anyone/any place out? how do i feel about giving my energy and talents towards this effort? i suppose it would happen whether we were involved or not....
i felt frustrated with my economics. in a small company, i see how much comes in. i have an idea of how much goes out. and i have a pretty good picture of how much of what goes to whom, or at least how much goes my way. does my salary really represent my worth here? or what we can afford to pay me? or how ignorant i am assumed to be with regard to profits? or will it simply never be enough because i am so friggin selfish? i felt like i had to ask/beg/justify/coerce for a raise. there was no nice, impersonal, five layers of bureaucracy removal from the shareholders in this small company. no, i was looking the owner in the eye to ask for a little more of what would otherwise be his cash. why was that such a sticky issue....
i can't pretend to understand what it must be like to own a small business, take the risks for a small business, put your economic future in a small business--all in one little handbasket. but i don't think the owner understood my circumstance either. it doesn't feel amazing to have a university degree (which i understand doesn't guarantee a dang thing) and unabashed intelligence and drive but not have certain avenues available. to not have the possibility to live in a decent sized apartment (unless i filled it with roommates) or a yard for a garden, much less afford to purchase something (in the city or out); to have to watch my spending and scrimp to save; to rely on friends a little too much; to not be able to consider having kids (unless we were dependent upon my partner's income). i mean, if we're going to buy into this capitalism thing, let's share the benefits. otherwise, i'm cashing out for something more soulful.
but that's the whole point.
this is a system of divide and conquer if i've ever seen one. i felt awkward because my worth was essentially quantified--arguably misquantified. it feels different to volunteer for something you believe in or to grow a garden or to do any number of things that don't involve direct remuneration. it even feels different to work for yourself even if you are barely squeeking by (think about the classic starving artist)--at least you feel satisfied by being able to do something you enjoy. surely it feels different to pick a cause and work for it for the sake of working for it.
but it feels icky to work for something for money if it doesn't help you change the world (yes, in the idealistic youth sense). at least, it felt a little icky to me. it always left a spinachy-like film in my mouth that no matter how delicious some of the other food tasted, it would still linger. the defined hierarchy of the business ensured that i always felt slightly, well, slighted. but that really has nothing to do with the goodness/badness of those for whom i worked. no, let's not blame friends. it just so happens that they were following the same economics as we were all taught.
and it was.
there was no anticipated shock to the system while learning about the fleecing of america (i helped out at left bank, remember?). instead the film surprisingly gave me needed justification to my own feelings about my role as a worker. not in the "i'm justifiably angry for being laid off/being swindled/my retirement funds being lost/losing my home/failing at the american dream/etc" kind of feelings. i'm talking about having a job many people would love to have and feeling un-understandably icky about it so often.
see, being back in school and having swapped any boss/employee contract for a (similarly but differently imbalanced) educator/student relationship, i have the unique opportunity to reflect on things like work. i always felt like something--some big thing--was a miss while working at a job that likely amounted to many people's dream jobs:
i was paid to travel to exciting places for several weeks a year; i could wear and generally do whatever i wanted at the office as long as work got done; i could work independently and was never micromanaged; i was strongly encouraged to partake in outdoor sports--the burlier the better; i enjoyed my colleagues' company (yes, each and every one of them) and would spend considerable time with them outside of work (many remain very close friends); i could invent new challenges for myself and was generally given the freedom to pursue them; i had a comfortable office with a view of the mountains and great natural light; i had nearly a month of paid vacation and rarely worked more than forty hours a week. the list of real, honest to goodness positives goes on and on.
by all accounts i should have been grateful to ever have haplessly stumbled into such an amazing job and held tightly to it as though it were the holy grail. but, good times as it might have been, i never felt completely satisfied. granted, no job could (or should) make a person completely fulfilled, but something still seemed to be missing. i would unintentionally, almost instinctually, curl up my nose at times and then feel like a spoiled child for doing so. a war raged inside: am i ungrateful? am i too idealistic? asking too much? what's my problem?
i had reservations about the effects of my work. what is truly green/sustainable/socially-responsible/pro-poor/eco tourism? and do we wield a big green brush instead of making real waves? what is carbon offsetting and who/what does it really support? what does it mean to have an office in the united states? and how much money really does sink deep into the economies of the places to where our clients travel? how do i feel about traveling so much (30+ flights in two years)? at least we are always better than....
how do our clients make all of their money? how does catering to their often inflated sense of comfort effect the environment or the communities to where they travel? what is the balance between luxury and service and responsibility or authenticity? are we selling anyone/any place out? how do i feel about giving my energy and talents towards this effort? i suppose it would happen whether we were involved or not....
i felt frustrated with my economics. in a small company, i see how much comes in. i have an idea of how much goes out. and i have a pretty good picture of how much of what goes to whom, or at least how much goes my way. does my salary really represent my worth here? or what we can afford to pay me? or how ignorant i am assumed to be with regard to profits? or will it simply never be enough because i am so friggin selfish? i felt like i had to ask/beg/justify/coerce for a raise. there was no nice, impersonal, five layers of bureaucracy removal from the shareholders in this small company. no, i was looking the owner in the eye to ask for a little more of what would otherwise be his cash. why was that such a sticky issue....
i can't pretend to understand what it must be like to own a small business, take the risks for a small business, put your economic future in a small business--all in one little handbasket. but i don't think the owner understood my circumstance either. it doesn't feel amazing to have a university degree (which i understand doesn't guarantee a dang thing) and unabashed intelligence and drive but not have certain avenues available. to not have the possibility to live in a decent sized apartment (unless i filled it with roommates) or a yard for a garden, much less afford to purchase something (in the city or out); to have to watch my spending and scrimp to save; to rely on friends a little too much; to not be able to consider having kids (unless we were dependent upon my partner's income). i mean, if we're going to buy into this capitalism thing, let's share the benefits. otherwise, i'm cashing out for something more soulful.
but that's the whole point.
this is a system of divide and conquer if i've ever seen one. i felt awkward because my worth was essentially quantified--arguably misquantified. it feels different to volunteer for something you believe in or to grow a garden or to do any number of things that don't involve direct remuneration. it even feels different to work for yourself even if you are barely squeeking by (think about the classic starving artist)--at least you feel satisfied by being able to do something you enjoy. surely it feels different to pick a cause and work for it for the sake of working for it.
but it feels icky to work for something for money if it doesn't help you change the world (yes, in the idealistic youth sense). at least, it felt a little icky to me. it always left a spinachy-like film in my mouth that no matter how delicious some of the other food tasted, it would still linger. the defined hierarchy of the business ensured that i always felt slightly, well, slighted. but that really has nothing to do with the goodness/badness of those for whom i worked. no, let's not blame friends. it just so happens that they were following the same economics as we were all taught.
enter michael moore's take on capitalism.
now, really...why would i ever have the expectation that things be fair? or that everyone be equal? what about my experience would ever make me think that everyone would be involved in decision-making, business planning, or profit sharing? did i really think that environmental and social responsibility would take a front seat to marketability, competitiveness, and profit? i must have gone to some unrealistic alternative school and graduated from some tree-hugging, consensus-making, student-run program at university. i must get a tingly sensation when i hear/read/see movies about completely "impractical" or "unrealistic" stories of workers in argentina taking over factories during their economic crisis to run it themselves as a worker collective, or the way that the independent zaballeen (garbage workers) improve cairo while making a living, or the engineering firm in madison that is a worker owned collective. really, where do i get off thinking....?
apparently, my feelings are more systemic than one might first think. maybe, just maybe, they make sense. perhaps we really can reconstruct work and our economic system to better fit everyone's needs, desires, expectations, and imaginations. and, all of this is coming from a place of privilege. imagine how the working poor feel. or the 99% of the world's population that doesn't see much of any benefit from this economic system. i'm sure they have a fuller, better articulated list of reasons why capitalism isn't the best thing since sliced bread. for one such laundry list, see capitalism: a love story. (anticapitalist? just pirate it or something.)
30 October 2009
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