Music: the key to who we all really are.
Whether you are a creeper, a love-sick soul, a heavy-metal headbanger, or just a subdued classical music aficionado, the music that we listen to and greet into our ears defines who we are. What's even more interesting is how it can explain us to people who we don't even know better than our actions.
Let's say that Ralph has a date with a man he recently met. Ralph drives both of them from his place to a fine-dining restaurant in the heart of Chicago, a great little Italian bistro. On the way there, Ralph engages in great conversation while consulting his iPod. He could go into many playlists, but he chooses pop music. The first song that comes on is from the Hannah Montana soundtrack. What has Ralph just done to the date? In my opinion, he just lost.
Why? Because Hannah Montana is not only a little prissy bitch, but also she is completely not right for a male that is age 20+. Ralph just said a lot about his personality simply by a touch of an iPod. His date, although he may appear to enjoy the music playing and laugh about it, makes a mental documentation that Ralph appears to be stuck in childhood in a very creepy way.
This extreme example can only hint at what music says. Mental documentations are made every day about us: our appearance, our hair, eye color, body contour. However, no one processes that what comes out of your iPod headphones, what blasts outs of your car speakers, and what your iTunes decides to serenade your parties with shares a piece of what you with everyone.
Music is empowerment as well as expression. I cry to music, sing and belt it out, and also cringe at some because the words that pour out of the notes and lyrics are so powerful that it makes me hurt. The artists that sing to us are some of the most poetic people out there. They have a gift of expressing the most happiest moments as well as the most painful. We sing to them, we sway to them, and treat the lyrics as if they were our own to nurture.
Music is definition. And it says a lot about all of us.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Driving
I love driving. And driving fast, I might add.
Which is why incompetent drivers really piss me off.
You are going down a stretch of highway, and you clearly know as you are driving that the left lane is for expedited drivers. Drivers who have a destination, and don't have time to settle for a mediocre 65 MPH limit. They know what they are doing, both in terms of time and and terms of the law. It's a risk you take.
And damn it, if I want to risk it, I want every stupid idiot out of my way.
Multiple techniques exist to really make your point clear that you are sick of idiots. Flash your brights. Ride their tailgate (a.k.a. "ride their ass). Honk if necessary. And if really upset, use finger signals and gestures to make your point solidified.
So then why is it that people still do not get that they cannot drive like idiots around non-idiot drivers? It is beyond me.
Who are these culprits of such sinful actions? I hate to say it, but it is typically older citizens, with target groups of ages 55 and higher. They live in a world where time is not of the essence, where they know that their destination is not urgent, nor do they care if it is. It's great tranquility for these people, while I grip on to my steering wheel as I feel the blood flow being cut off to it.
Who do you yell at? What can you do? I find myself belting out my iPod songs louder as I get gradually more frustrated, but really there is nothing to be done.
If I send any message it is this: please pass on the word that driving is only for members of society who deserve the right because they can deduce things like right lane / left lane, and to recognize that if they see a red car with a bunch of hail dents to get the f*@& out of the way.
And I'm done.
Which is why incompetent drivers really piss me off.
You are going down a stretch of highway, and you clearly know as you are driving that the left lane is for expedited drivers. Drivers who have a destination, and don't have time to settle for a mediocre 65 MPH limit. They know what they are doing, both in terms of time and and terms of the law. It's a risk you take.
And damn it, if I want to risk it, I want every stupid idiot out of my way.
Multiple techniques exist to really make your point clear that you are sick of idiots. Flash your brights. Ride their tailgate (a.k.a. "ride their ass). Honk if necessary. And if really upset, use finger signals and gestures to make your point solidified.
So then why is it that people still do not get that they cannot drive like idiots around non-idiot drivers? It is beyond me.
Who are these culprits of such sinful actions? I hate to say it, but it is typically older citizens, with target groups of ages 55 and higher. They live in a world where time is not of the essence, where they know that their destination is not urgent, nor do they care if it is. It's great tranquility for these people, while I grip on to my steering wheel as I feel the blood flow being cut off to it.
Who do you yell at? What can you do? I find myself belting out my iPod songs louder as I get gradually more frustrated, but really there is nothing to be done.
If I send any message it is this: please pass on the word that driving is only for members of society who deserve the right because they can deduce things like right lane / left lane, and to recognize that if they see a red car with a bunch of hail dents to get the f*@& out of the way.
And I'm done.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Accessorizing a Computer
God damn it. All I want is two monitors.
I want the ability to be a nerd, having two monitors glaring me in the face with all their data, their glamor. And hell, I want to be able to watch a movie on one while being productive on the other. How hard is this?
Well, apparently pretty hard. Accessorizing anything in this American society is pretty damn difficult. We have bags that need to go with the color of our dress. We have an American Eagle shirt that couldn't possibly go with Hollister jeans. And we have a monitor that does not feel like it wants to be with another on the same desk.
Why so hard?
Because some greedy bitch in California, when designing my piece of shit workstation, must have thought that it would be hilarious if someday down the line, that the owner wanted to be a tremendous nerd and have two screens, that he or she shouldn't be allowed such a simple fix. Oh no. They would need to invest more than $99.99 for a monitor, $28.00 for a cord to split the signal, and then watch as the young aficionado struggles to make sense that everything he paid for is useless unless more hundreds are put on his silver shiny magic card, where money vanishes at the swish of a wrist.
ALL I WANT IS TWO MONITORS! HOW HARD IS THIS?
I want the ability to be a nerd, having two monitors glaring me in the face with all their data, their glamor. And hell, I want to be able to watch a movie on one while being productive on the other. How hard is this?
Well, apparently pretty hard. Accessorizing anything in this American society is pretty damn difficult. We have bags that need to go with the color of our dress. We have an American Eagle shirt that couldn't possibly go with Hollister jeans. And we have a monitor that does not feel like it wants to be with another on the same desk.
Why so hard?
Because some greedy bitch in California, when designing my piece of shit workstation, must have thought that it would be hilarious if someday down the line, that the owner wanted to be a tremendous nerd and have two screens, that he or she shouldn't be allowed such a simple fix. Oh no. They would need to invest more than $99.99 for a monitor, $28.00 for a cord to split the signal, and then watch as the young aficionado struggles to make sense that everything he paid for is useless unless more hundreds are put on his silver shiny magic card, where money vanishes at the swish of a wrist.
ALL I WANT IS TWO MONITORS! HOW HARD IS THIS?
Friday, June 26, 2009
Public versus Private
I recently opened up about a month and a half ago a blog entitled "I Really Got Lucky..." which turned out to be highly therapeutic, but also a tad disruptive to my every day life. I felt the need to channel a lot of emotion, hurt, and anger into that blog that quite frankly none of you want to see, read, hear, or experience.
Thus why I have decided to make another blog, ending this battle of what should be "private" and what should be "public."
Blogging is completely releiving for me. It is a great comfort to be able to flow words onto a screen and have them gone from inside you. Words want to escape all the time--its just how you get them out that makes all the difference.
As some of you may recall way back in the day, I had a newspaper that I ran called Andy's Life 101 which was basically my mock of society and all its stupid little quirks and issues. I think its time to bring that style of writing back, and embrace that cynical and funny part of me again.
So please, enjoy the resurrection of Andy's Life 101!
-A.S. Keating
Thus why I have decided to make another blog, ending this battle of what should be "private" and what should be "public."
Blogging is completely releiving for me. It is a great comfort to be able to flow words onto a screen and have them gone from inside you. Words want to escape all the time--its just how you get them out that makes all the difference.
As some of you may recall way back in the day, I had a newspaper that I ran called Andy's Life 101 which was basically my mock of society and all its stupid little quirks and issues. I think its time to bring that style of writing back, and embrace that cynical and funny part of me again.
So please, enjoy the resurrection of Andy's Life 101!
-A.S. Keating
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