Archive for the ‘Funny’ Category

Titles

January 19th, 2009

I think the world would benefit from titles. I have a master’s degree, I think ‘master’ or ‘lord’ would be beneficial. Not just to humor myself, but to really help everyone understand the varying levels of education and experience we all have. I’m not suggesting a formal system wherein everything is impersonal, I prefer to be called Dave in most circumstances. But it’s something to think about, having an easy and accepted way to introduce ourselves.

Teachers often incur my wrath simply because I have so many negative experiences in education and partly because I choose to work with students who are going through exactly what I have. I sat in an IEP the other day and it drug up so many old issues for me to think about. But this thought also occurred to me as well, but it wasn’t really brought to a head until I started helping a student review for a final.

It’s not simple, but I do have to point out that at the University level not returning a test, or withholding previously graded work that will affect the final test is unacceptable in every class I’ve ever taken. And at University is where cheating really matters. These are the institutions that will stake their reputation behind your degree. So why are they able to cope with this apparently pervasive issue and High School teachers are not? Why is it High Schools that seem to take draconian measures to ensure test security and not the colleges?

My opinion is quite simple, I think that many teachers think much higher of themselves than they ought. I know I used to. Being called Mr. Arney be adults twenty or thirty years my senior setup too large a power differential. Especially when some of them were far better educated and filled with more experience than I could even imagine. I love Pauline epistles for the very reason they make great allusions. The Romans were warned of this problem, and Paul suggested that they ought to think of themselves as to have sound judgment.

So why titles? Well, I want one mostly, but also because then Mr. and Mrs. stop setting teachers apart. Plus I deserve to be respected for my area of expertise. I’ll always give deference to someone with more experience and education because it only makes sense. Unless they prove themselves incompetent, I am inclined to listen to them above my own opinions first. I’m not sure when it started, but this unsound image teachers seem to hold of themselves only leads to things I would consider ludicrous. I can’t imagine a college professor being coy about what will be covered on a final. The hardest classes always had very clear revision guidelines. It wasn’t even uncommon for the professor to provide a series of essay topic and then select only a few for the actual exam. And not receiving the results of quizzes and previous tests that were also to be included on the final exam never happened to me, both B.A. and M.A.

So yes, Master Arney or Lord Arney would make me smile, but it would also keep the constant contest I find myself in with some teachers from occurring. I almost try not to interact with teachers at this point because I’m tired of the pissing match that usually ensues. It’s funny because they use the Mr. and Mrs. so authoritatively at times, but then can feel so vulnerable at the same time. Basically, I want everyone to be honest about what their expertise is and not try to be more than they are. Teachers should be proud of the fact that they convey basic information in the general studies in such a manner that teenagers become competent. They shouldn’t have to be experts in learning styles, or visionaries in modifications. That’s what I’m good at, and I like doing it.

Why should we be fighting, pissing, or whatever else ends up happening? You’re Mr. and I’m Master, and we can each do what we do. It shouldn’t be this hard. And you shouldn’t worry so much. Cheating is going to happen no matter what. It doesn’t hurt you, and it always comes back to bite the student’s ass in the end. Chill and just concentrate on being excellent. Then let those of us who find it exciting to diagnose and modify do our thing. I gave up the classroom because it wasn’t my passion. Let me have my passion and my title, dammit!

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Going Green Plaid: A Fashion Philosophy

October 4th, 2008

I have fought the movement toward plaid in my own passive aggressive way; I just didn’t buy them, no matter how many models, actors, or cool guys did. It’s not my fault though. I had a horrible incident in childhood where once Christmas was entirely plaid, I mean mountain man wearing my mother’s bras plaid. A few thousand jokes later and the idea of having anything but a kilt on when I wore plaid again was as close as I could bear to be to the design. And now, I’ve snapped.

It seemed time to give up my senseless resistance and attempt to find things that were non-offensive to my childhood trauma. Hence green. It got me thinking about fashion in a philosophical sense, and I’ve been designing clothes for the characters in my books, for which the male characters present much difficulty mainly in the lack of books and shows for them. Here is my little attempt to talk about the subject without the words garment or references to denim and chiffon.

Hips — This is surprising the key differences between the gross anatomy of men and women. There are more obvious features to our eyes, and yet as far as actual structural differences and size of areas in question, the hips win every time. I think it’s essential to start there, and was the reason for my turn toward plaid. It’s not just the color but the better approach those shorts tend to take for the male hips. They are almost vertical and produce a short indentation in our frame, the perfect place to hang shorts and pants from. Obviously I’m not about sagging in the slightest.

Aside from practicality, there is something to be said for playing to our strengths. Upper bodies are interesting but overdone in a way. Additionally, the size is entirely dependent on how big of a gym life you have time and money to develop. However, with diet you can mostly control the tone of your hips, and it’s an even denominator. They don’t change in size except when your growing. For adults, they will be the same until we break them when old. It evens the field between all rivals. Therefore, choosing the appropriate rise of the shorts/jeans and the length of shirt is important for bringing out this area.

It was a recent discovery, but one I should have thought of much earlier. My upper body is incredibly short in comparison to my overall height. My legs are so long that I usually have to by jeans that come up to my belly button to get the appropriate length. Hence, for me a lower rise will make them sit much better, despite my lack of toned and uncovered abdominal muscles. Discover your body proportions and then work with them. Exposing genital hair and arch certainly have their place, but well framed hips that allow that short segment where bone meets skin to be exposed above the shorts/jeans will probably offer the most attractive visage.

Abs — It’s not necessarily about the six-pack when it comes to non-beach/nudist wear. If the shirt lets the hips become a tease, it is my opinion that the upper abdominals are better left for the later period of getting to know each other where alcohol and anxiety can distract your companion. Most everyone has strong muscles right at the waist because ever motion we make comes from this area. You can’t twist, squat or sit without activating them. Again, using the natural strengths of this isolated area can maximize your impact while at the same time creating a level field with those annoyingly sculpted men.

Choosing the shirt should be just as important as the shorts/jeans, and I see a great number of men and boys going with undershirts. I know it’s a look, but consider that even a tight undershirt of the wrong length will miss it’s opportunity. Also, they come in colors. For minimum financial impact you can have a rainbow to choose from, white isn’t right for everyone. Get the right length to suit your upper body. As I stated, my upper body is very short, and when I was at better weights, it became apparent that most shirts where incredibly long on me. This doesn’t mean you should select crop tops; if you’re that impressive, don’t wear a shirt. What I suggest is that teasing length where movement will expose the hips and yet you can walk most anywhere and not feel under dressed. Learn from women, teasing is almost more important that the goods themselves.

Minimalism — This is more my taste I suppose, but again, consider that clothes are really an optional choice in warmer climates. They are like paint in a way, and you don’t want to deface a great building with too much decoration. Layers are important when it gets colder, but there are still ways to assist your frame and therefore your appeal while doing so. Even though I opposed zipper sweatshirts in the past, the modern incarnations have made a lot of progress away from the bulky, itchy things I knew. They also allow for warmth of the extremities while allowing your previously mentioned choices to shine through from below. But always think about what the added element will do to the overall approach. Not on the day, but when you purchase the clothes. That’s another part of my philosophy, aside from ensuring that you don’t wear red and green together unless your in a camp Christmas musical, more than forty-five seconds of thought about a shirt is too much.

Interesting shirts should probably be covered by simple, single colored zippered sweatshirts or jackets. If you wear a pull over sweatshirt, then wear one of those nice cheap, colored undershirts and save the pretty ones for another day. I’ll allow that those more creative than me can link up over and under shirts to create some sort of artistic statement. If that’s the case, design some dumb options for the rest of us to buy because you’ve got skills and should be paid for them. I prefer to think that only one element should draw the eye at one time. Skin is always the first thing humans see. Next is something shiny, and after that contrasting colors and interesting shapes. This can lead to some interesting ideas.

Instead of awesomely bejeweled jeans, and I saw some the other day that could only be described as masculine dazzle, go for a belt that is yellow or white. Both of which have been slowly trickling down into everyday fashion for a year or so. Not to belabor the point, but the belt will help to draw attention to the hips, and it offers something new for those checking you out. Belt buckles are becoming cool again, and not just in square dancing contests. Even cool ripped jeans can benefit from an interesting belt. The studs thing is interesting, but I have a feeling bold colors may be the next thing plus they fit my minimalist philosophy.

In short, don’t overdo. Cool shirts go with boring jeans, and a bold belt. Tight buckles go with boring everything. Hoodies from Guiness, my birthday present, go with everything. Shoes are their own thing, or even if they should be worn. I’m fixated on converse for the moment, but allow that sandals and other choices make find additions. I personally don’t understand sandals and jeans, but I hate pants in general and try to wear them as little as possible. So to free your feet while constricting your legs seems stupid, and cold. Beside the fact that sandals really go with shorts, they complete the freed leg and show others that you spend your time with little to no clothes on most of the time. Or that you are a weekend slacker, but still, they know you a little better that way. Pale feet in the winter tell me you like frostbite, and tanned feet in the summer make me think you’ve been kidnapped and brain washed into wearing jeans. But that’s probably way over thinking it, and that’s against my philosophy.

Last, don’t wear colors that make you look stupid. My dad is slightly orange when considered in the appropriate light. When he puts on anything close to that color he becomes bright orange. I look best in greens and earth tones, though I sneak blue in because it’s on of my favorite colors. Pink can go with most people, but that horrible bright magenta thing should be banned from existence. Pale is probably better for our eyes anyway. Black will is good, but it creates a lot of contrast. If you’re still waiting for the public pool to open it’s doors, or the house to empty for the weekend and the neighbors to turn a blinded eye; it may not be the best option head to toe. Though I appreciate those who can use chains and face paint to make it all come together. Industrial is something I won’t pretend to comment knowledgeably about. When it’s good, it’s amazing. When it’s bad, you wonder when they showered last. An okay rule is match your eyes when possible. Especially your shirt; it’s why superman has a blue costume. But if you start to resemble the shirt color, change and never look back.

Above all, don’t obsess. Once you open your mouth, the clothes will dissapear, and depending on how wide you open your mouth, well, clothing should introduce you not speak louder and be more interesting than you are.

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Love, Hmm …

November 14th, 2007

I’m on a kick, I can’t seem to help it. I have this new obsession with understanding love more, or better, or perhaps offensively, more better. That’s half the problem, and I know it. You can’t understand something that is feeling. You can approximate it, or represent it with word pictures. But you can’t really ever understand it, I suppose. There’s a couple things that have me hung up right now, and they are the words we use for people that we love.

So I have family, and I’m allowed to love them. In fact, I’m expected to love them. Then I have friends, and I love them, but in this kind of amorphous way that if you say it wrong, or to the wrong person then you’re weird and psycho. Chemistry is a word I’ve been using lately because it seems half way between love: I want to jump your bones, and love: Yeah, I’d bail you out of jail. But there’s the catch isn’t it. We can’t love without being in love, but then again we can.

I always think back to the Greek when english gets hairy. (I’m pretty sure that’s the wrong spelling, but I like the word anyway, it makes me think of gorillas picking fleas out of each other’s fur and eating them.) In Greek there were three words for Love. And it’s a preachers favorite thing to take them and make them this all powerful triad of meaning. But still, it is kind of nice having more options. Philos, as in love of knowledge, but also gives its root the english friend. Except it could also mean lover. And the Greeks had their share of friends with benefits. There was Eros of course, the dirty book isle. And the beloved Agape of christians. So their meanings were far more gray than preachers would like, but still three different options would be cool.

The reason I’m on the meaning kick in the first place is due to this great article in a book I’m too lazy to get down right now. It’s about language and narrative in cognitive science. One of the authors, Allen I hope, talks about how things like evolution can never be understood, because they can’t be narrated. First of all, that’s huge to me; it makes my belief in the power of metaphors take root. Then it’s kind of scary too. Especially since the one consensus I get is that you can’t describe love. Anything that I can’t understand scares the shit out of me. So I begin this wandering wonder, hoping that somewhere a grasp will appear.

Now I move over to Zen, (yes it pops up everywhere I am,) which talks about universal human compasion, which is I’m pretty sure a very english translation of love. Love of everyone, unrestricted, just because they are. We are okay with this in general though, usually. I love humanity, I love my friends. I love this friend in particular, ah there’s the rub. Every time I hear friends with benefits, I get this internal giggle. We have no way to describe people that don’t fit into the dichotomous categories of our language. I wonder if the church is responsible for that development in western language? It does seem like a church thing, you’re either married or celebate. So it’s okay to love everyone in a particular category, (’The Gays’ as my friend Wendy, and Kathy Griffin would say,) but loving one person in that group causes such a confusion.

So, being the wonderful linguists that we are, we came up with ‘in love’ to describe that change of state from the one thing we can’t explain to the other thing that we can’t explain, all so that we don’t get freaked out every time someone says ‘I love you.’ Where’s the line? Not there in most cases, hence friends with benefits. Too little attachement to be in love, but too much to be ‘just friends.’ But, you say, what about the white elephant, sex?

You could turn everything around and look at it as dealing and refering to sex. Friends niether have sex, nor want to have sex with each other. (Fantasizing about it is on a case by case basis.) Friends with benefits have sex, but aren’t magically in love with each other. Or more acurately accept that it’s nice when you can get it, but you’re not fussed about being the only one. Then you have the ‘couple’ or ‘partners’ that are in love. Meaning they have sex, exclusively (for the most part), and are totally jazzed about that. I have to ask then, what about our new division between having sex, and making love?

Yes, we talk about seperating love and sex. So we can hookup without any emotional attachment what so ever, and that’s slightly different than friends with benefits because at least they care about each other to a degree, and are willing to talk to each other with the lights on, and use more words than ‘oh’ and ‘god.’ So now we have ‘in love’, and we have ‘making love.’ I suppose it would be people in love make love. But it’s pretty arogant to say that you can make something you don’t understand and can’t explain. Maybe it’s a nice way of saying banging my wife, or maybe it’s really a seperate meaning. I’ll have to refer this matter to couples who are ‘in love’ and ‘make love’ to try and sort out.

It seems a conclusion ought to be coming soon, I apologize for the pun, but I can’t help myself. What I know is that I love a few people, and that love is strong and grows quickly. If I had to define love it would be: I will do anything you need at three o’clock in the morning, no questions asked. I see this as covering a lot of things, from my dog just died I need a hug, to my dog just died and for some reason it made me horny. The problem is that I don’t know what ‘in love’ is in that context, and it seems to get me into trouble. I hate the ‘I like you’ precursor to will you go out/hookup/date me question. We could be honest and say, ‘I think I could love you forever in a romantic physical way, want to hang out and see?’ Wouldn’t that be easier than wondering around linguistic wastelands trying to decypher a text message that turned out to be a typo. ‘I like you, as a friend,’ ‘I like that shirt on you,’ ‘I like that shirt off of you.’ But it’s not so, we just can’t stand that word, love.

I’ve never seen any word cause more stir than love. I think I could drop the word ‘cunt’ around a group of women and recieve less suprise and shock than spring the word love on one of them unexpectedly. (I hate the word ‘cunt’ with a passion, in case you needed to know.) That sad look in their eyes, the oh, poor boy, you are deluded but I don’t want to say it that way. The ‘L’ word seems to divide us so quickly, even though we’re okay with it in other circumstances. I could ramble and rant for much longer, but I’ll wrap up instead. We are afraid of love, and we are afraid of what it means to love. We’ve lost our way. When there are thousands of ways to qualify what I mean when I say love, there’s something wrong with our understanding of it. It seems to me that if you can’t define love, you don’t get to decide when it’s used improprerly. What if we all just talked openly about it instead of hiding behind different phrases designed to cloud the message?

You can see why I’ll most likely grow old with cats, but maybe I’ll feel okay about that once erectile dysfunction settles in.

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