Better late than never? Sure, let's go with that. Anyway, I still enjoy doing these gaming/workout write-ups, so the madness continues:
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Something I wrote on a whim
The weak shout into the abyss and hope the noise will echo into the ages, outliving their own fleeting existence, validating them and giving them purpose. But the abyss doesn't care about our insignificant hopes and wishes, our thoughts and fears. Our vain cries drown in the endless silence.
The brave know there is no point in screaming and struggling. They swallow their pride and let themselves be swept into the eye of the storm, where all the rest end up no matter what, and sometimes, if they're lucky enough, a few float to the top. They don't ask for this privilege; they are hurled into it, ready or not. Still fewer remain there. Most lose their way and fall, ending in obscurity with the rest of us.
But those few, those precious few, they swirl above it all in eternity, tiny pinpoints of hope and inspiration for the rest of us. They guide us, drive us, and above all serve as a reminder that in the depths of that crushing black void, we are never truly alone.
Peace and love, readerlings.
The brave know there is no point in screaming and struggling. They swallow their pride and let themselves be swept into the eye of the storm, where all the rest end up no matter what, and sometimes, if they're lucky enough, a few float to the top. They don't ask for this privilege; they are hurled into it, ready or not. Still fewer remain there. Most lose their way and fall, ending in obscurity with the rest of us.
But those few, those precious few, they swirl above it all in eternity, tiny pinpoints of hope and inspiration for the rest of us. They guide us, drive us, and above all serve as a reminder that in the depths of that crushing black void, we are never truly alone.
Peace and love, readerlings.
Friday, January 10, 2014
An update on the trash bags
So, I did finally break down and ask my nearest desk neighbor about the trash bags. It's no wonder I was confused. Evidently new bags are supposed to be put out for everyone by sanitation staff every week, but they never are. Sanitation folk are fickle beings, I suppose. Anyone needing more bags has to go and consult the trash bag guru, whose job has nothing to do with trash but his office is being used to store the extra bags for some mysterious reason.
Considering that I don't even know this person, I don't anticipate consulting the trash bag guru anytime soon. I think I'll just try to make my remaining bags last another month or so, and hopefully the coming spring thaw with warm the hearts of the sanitation folk enough that they'll take pity on us, the humble cube-dwellers, and share their bounty of refuse-catching receptacle liners. Here's hoping.
Peace and love, readers.
Considering that I don't even know this person, I don't anticipate consulting the trash bag guru anytime soon. I think I'll just try to make my remaining bags last another month or so, and hopefully the coming spring thaw with warm the hearts of the sanitation folk enough that they'll take pity on us, the humble cube-dwellers, and share their bounty of refuse-catching receptacle liners. Here's hoping.
Peace and love, readers.
Monday, January 06, 2014
Socially Challenged
Let me give you an idea of how my brain works. When I started working, I had several plastic bags with which to line the trash can at my desk. I wasn't sure where they came from but was happy to have them. However, if I used one a week, I was going to run out of them fairly quickly.
At that point, any normal human being would have casually asked any nearby coworker where the extra trash bags were. In all, it's a fairly trivial and innocent request. It's not like I'd be asking for the blood of their first-born child. Even so, for some reason, my brain decided it would make more sense to sit and wait, hope that whoever had left some bags there in the first place would keep replacing them, and if they didn't (which they did not), simply avoid throwing trash in my own trash can to avoid using up the bags. This, in my mind, was a less stressful plan than approaching someone and asking where the bags are.
Now, some of you know I've dealt with social anxiety in the past. I've largely overcome it in recent years and function normally for the most part, but anyone possessing some illusion that I have somehow eradicated the anxiety altogether need only look at the following two sentences:
I've worked in my current office setting for eight months.
I still have no idea where the trash bags are.
At that point, any normal human being would have casually asked any nearby coworker where the extra trash bags were. In all, it's a fairly trivial and innocent request. It's not like I'd be asking for the blood of their first-born child. Even so, for some reason, my brain decided it would make more sense to sit and wait, hope that whoever had left some bags there in the first place would keep replacing them, and if they didn't (which they did not), simply avoid throwing trash in my own trash can to avoid using up the bags. This, in my mind, was a less stressful plan than approaching someone and asking where the bags are.
Now, some of you know I've dealt with social anxiety in the past. I've largely overcome it in recent years and function normally for the most part, but anyone possessing some illusion that I have somehow eradicated the anxiety altogether need only look at the following two sentences:
I've worked in my current office setting for eight months.
I still have no idea where the trash bags are.
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Dark Souls Oct 2013 Update
Yes, you read that right. I'm way behind on these. Anyway, here are the highlights.
Sunday, December 08, 2013
Of Vitriol and Malcontent
I'm no stranger to coarse language nor indignant rage, but I make an effort these days to control both, (hopefully not at the expense of entertainment value). I'd like to explain why I worry about the digital aether being over-saturated with outrage, and why maybe we all need to cool our heads a bit even when our anger feels justified.
Clearly, I'm no stranger to outrage. For years, the better portion of what I did here was complain passionately about random topics and hope it was vaguely funny to somebody. It's not hard to see why I did it; I enjoyed it. An acquaintance on a forum once said,
That phrase has been in my signature ever since. It's funny because it's true.
In contrast, let's consider what a close friend I've known in person for several years said about me recently. I'm paraphrasing slightly, but the gist of her comment was,
It's easy for people who know me to get this impression. I am by no means a Zen master, unwavering in placidity, but that is definitely what I strive for now. I am a paragon of restraint. If I ever have an unkind word for anyone, it should never be delivered in anger, only a firm tone with a calculated disregard for their feelings. If push comes to shove, I'd rather come off in a verbal fight as a heartless bastard than a raging maniac.
Now, to be fair, anger in the right person fosters passion, and passion is the seed of motivation and ambition. So, I can't say that negative feelings never yield something positive. The point is just that I'm extremely cautious and distrustful of my anger, and I think I have good reason for being so. It basically comes down to what that person said online:
Being angry is fun, and it's easy. That's why it's dangerous.
Raging out is fun. Being angry or upset triggers a heightened mental state, the effects of which can actually feel pleasurable. It's that Fight-or-Flight response we've heard so much about. It's like the adrenaline rush you get from watching scary movies, or taking part in dangerous sports and activities like skydiving, snowboarding, or injecting methamphetamine into your bloodstream. At least with the meth you're kind of aware of what it's doing to you. Even if you aren't consciously aware of it, your brain likes being in that dramatic elevated state, and if you experience it often enough, it's easy to become addicted.
Now, couple that with the fact that getting angry is easy. Finding your fix takes no effort these days. If you don't have anybody in the immediate vicinity to bother you, you're not stuck in traffic, no Jehovah's Witnesses knocked on your door this evening, it's not 2012 and the Obama campaign didn't send you another god damn email, you're still ready to rage. All you have to do is turn on the TV news (or what passes for news on TV), or log onto your favorite Internet-enabled device, and you'll be readily bombarded with hate-porn. Look, all around you! Bad people are being wrong and doing and saying wrong things! Be mad about it!
The great thing about being addicted to rage is that, unlike traditional feel-good drugs, there are no real side-effects to speak of. I mean sure, there's the embarrassment from when you got into a shouting match with your brother-in-law at Thanksgiving, the monetary cost you were charged to fix the display you overturned while screeching at a cashier at Wal-mart about expired coupons, the damage you've done to your career after that ugly hate-speech you put on after getting drunk at the office holiday party, and the untold emotional damage you've done to your friends, your spouse or significant other, and any kids who might have the great misfortune of calling you a parent, but those things tend not to slow a true addict down.
Oh, did I mention that being addicted to rage means you get mad more easily? Well, it does. Like any addiction, you develop a tolerance, and so need a bigger fix to get the same high. Luckily, in the case of rage, your brain handles this for you by gradually trimming all those pesky connections to empathy and logic that you weren't using, and strengthening the paths that trigger an anger response, thus allowing you to get much angrier much faster with much less prodding. Isn't that convenient? And it explains why that lady in the grocery store is able to go from perfectly calm and pleasant to livid and violent at the mere sight of two guys holding hands or a teenage girl holding a baby.
So clearly, there are a lot of things that make rage an easy and tempting pass-time, but I just don't want to be that kind of person. I don't want to use my ego, my sense of personal entitlement and superiority, or my political, social or spiritual beliefs as some kind of excuse to justify my selfish desire to feel good, to fill my communications with others with violent obscenity, and my brain with delicious rage-juice. If I allow myself to indulge too much, I'm afraid a day will come when I can't stop it.
Besides, I know this is a big leap in logic, but I'm going to go ahead and assume that of all the people who have ever thrown a rock through a window, caved in someone's eye socket with their fist, set someone's house on fire, shot somebody in the chest seven times, hung someone by the throat from a tree, or killed crowds of complete strangers with an improvised explosive device, very few of those people could be described as "slightly less unperturbed." The less I have in common with those people, the better.
So, that's the long and short of it. I hope that made some kind of sense. I feel a bit bad that I don't have any scholarly sources to back up my bullshit about the science behind addiction. If anyone knows of papers or articles that back up my observations, please do send them along so I can include them. If you have any material that could disprove me, kindly keep it to yourself; that's not what science is for. It's to make me sound smart, nothing more.
Thanks for listening. Peace and love, gentle readerlings.
Clearly, I'm no stranger to outrage. For years, the better portion of what I did here was complain passionately about random topics and hope it was vaguely funny to somebody. It's not hard to see why I did it; I enjoyed it. An acquaintance on a forum once said,
Being angry is fun. And it's so easy.
That phrase has been in my signature ever since. It's funny because it's true.
In contrast, let's consider what a close friend I've known in person for several years said about me recently. I'm paraphrasing slightly, but the gist of her comment was,
Dan, you don't get angry. You only have two settings: unperturbed, and slightly less unperturbed.
It's easy for people who know me to get this impression. I am by no means a Zen master, unwavering in placidity, but that is definitely what I strive for now. I am a paragon of restraint. If I ever have an unkind word for anyone, it should never be delivered in anger, only a firm tone with a calculated disregard for their feelings. If push comes to shove, I'd rather come off in a verbal fight as a heartless bastard than a raging maniac.
Now, to be fair, anger in the right person fosters passion, and passion is the seed of motivation and ambition. So, I can't say that negative feelings never yield something positive. The point is just that I'm extremely cautious and distrustful of my anger, and I think I have good reason for being so. It basically comes down to what that person said online:
Being angry is fun, and it's easy. That's why it's dangerous.
Raging out is fun. Being angry or upset triggers a heightened mental state, the effects of which can actually feel pleasurable. It's that Fight-or-Flight response we've heard so much about. It's like the adrenaline rush you get from watching scary movies, or taking part in dangerous sports and activities like skydiving, snowboarding, or injecting methamphetamine into your bloodstream. At least with the meth you're kind of aware of what it's doing to you. Even if you aren't consciously aware of it, your brain likes being in that dramatic elevated state, and if you experience it often enough, it's easy to become addicted.
Now, couple that with the fact that getting angry is easy. Finding your fix takes no effort these days. If you don't have anybody in the immediate vicinity to bother you, you're not stuck in traffic, no Jehovah's Witnesses knocked on your door this evening, it's not 2012 and the Obama campaign didn't send you another god damn email, you're still ready to rage. All you have to do is turn on the TV news (or what passes for news on TV), or log onto your favorite Internet-enabled device, and you'll be readily bombarded with hate-porn. Look, all around you! Bad people are being wrong and doing and saying wrong things! Be mad about it!
The great thing about being addicted to rage is that, unlike traditional feel-good drugs, there are no real side-effects to speak of. I mean sure, there's the embarrassment from when you got into a shouting match with your brother-in-law at Thanksgiving, the monetary cost you were charged to fix the display you overturned while screeching at a cashier at Wal-mart about expired coupons, the damage you've done to your career after that ugly hate-speech you put on after getting drunk at the office holiday party, and the untold emotional damage you've done to your friends, your spouse or significant other, and any kids who might have the great misfortune of calling you a parent, but those things tend not to slow a true addict down.
Oh, did I mention that being addicted to rage means you get mad more easily? Well, it does. Like any addiction, you develop a tolerance, and so need a bigger fix to get the same high. Luckily, in the case of rage, your brain handles this for you by gradually trimming all those pesky connections to empathy and logic that you weren't using, and strengthening the paths that trigger an anger response, thus allowing you to get much angrier much faster with much less prodding. Isn't that convenient? And it explains why that lady in the grocery store is able to go from perfectly calm and pleasant to livid and violent at the mere sight of two guys holding hands or a teenage girl holding a baby.
So clearly, there are a lot of things that make rage an easy and tempting pass-time, but I just don't want to be that kind of person. I don't want to use my ego, my sense of personal entitlement and superiority, or my political, social or spiritual beliefs as some kind of excuse to justify my selfish desire to feel good, to fill my communications with others with violent obscenity, and my brain with delicious rage-juice. If I allow myself to indulge too much, I'm afraid a day will come when I can't stop it.
Besides, I know this is a big leap in logic, but I'm going to go ahead and assume that of all the people who have ever thrown a rock through a window, caved in someone's eye socket with their fist, set someone's house on fire, shot somebody in the chest seven times, hung someone by the throat from a tree, or killed crowds of complete strangers with an improvised explosive device, very few of those people could be described as "slightly less unperturbed." The less I have in common with those people, the better.
So, that's the long and short of it. I hope that made some kind of sense. I feel a bit bad that I don't have any scholarly sources to back up my bullshit about the science behind addiction. If anyone knows of papers or articles that back up my observations, please do send them along so I can include them. If you have any material that could disprove me, kindly keep it to yourself; that's not what science is for. It's to make me sound smart, nothing more.
Thanks for listening. Peace and love, gentle readerlings.
Saturday, December 07, 2013
On Various Things
I haven't updated here in a while, so I thought I'd knock out something quickly tonight. If any of these topics are worth expanding, I'll see about giving them a proper post tomorrow.
Sunday, October 06, 2013
Dark Souls Update 3
I had the idea recently to further simplify these by creating a graphical summary of my pain and triumph. The image that follows is the first such summary.
Friday, October 04, 2013
Jordan Church should have counted his blessings
Since this is evidently nostalgia week for me, and Jordan's ego wouldn't let him leave well enough alone, I decided it would be fun to reflect on some of the good old times shared with my former college roommate:
Saturday, September 07, 2013
More thoughts on faith
A group of friends of varying religious backgrounds are discussing their unique beliefs. One of them asks the others, "So, what is the difference between Gnosticism and Agnosticism?" The Agnostic friend says, "I don't know." The Gnostic friend says, "I do!"
Dark Souls Update 2
Oh hey, I promised you guys something not related to videogames, didn't I? Yeah, sorry.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Dark Souls Challenge Update
I've tweeted the details of my pain and suffering thus far, but I really don't care for brevity when it's forced on me. So instead, I'm doing a full update of my progress over the past few weeks. (I might ramble on a bit, so you're encouraged to skim)
Monday, August 12, 2013
Hell on Wheels Rant
I'm not entirely sure what possessed me to write this email on Sunday afternoon, but I figured you might find it amusing:
Tuesday, August 06, 2013
A Challenge Appears
I've been forgetting to put these jump breaks in lately, so if the main page of the blog gets ridiculously long, that would be why.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
10 Outrageous Headlines That Will Grab Your Attention
Sorry to be misleading, but I don't have a list of items for you. I generally find those articles annoying, but at least I get it. There are two simple reasons why those sites use such shallow tactics: because they work, and because they have to.
Monday, June 17, 2013
About Coping
Our family cat passed away relatively peacefully. I wasn't there the moment it happened, or for the burial, but I saw her the night before. If you'd rather not read about this part, skip the next paragraph. Everything following it is more central to the point anyway.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Ghosts in the Machine
Having found the stories left behind by programmers past, I'm more than a little intimidated.
Monday, May 13, 2013
Just not buying it
Tonight's Lesson In Stuff You Should Have Already Learned In Preschool: Greed is not good.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Just one more thing
I'm going to allow anonymous comments again, with word verification still disabled. I'm doing this again because I really do want people to feel like they can speak their minds freely and easily here if they want to.
I'm also going to moderate all comments before they're allowed to be displayed on the blog, because I'd like to pretend I'm the president of Egypt or something for a while. We'll see how it goes.
I'm also going to moderate all comments before they're allowed to be displayed on the blog, because I'd like to pretend I'm the president of Egypt or something for a while. We'll see how it goes.
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