I’ve written different variations of this article at least four times over the last ten years. (With luck, I won’t lose this one, too.)
For those who may be confused, I offer a quick note on dashes.
There are two basic dashes—the em dash and the en dash:
em dash (—) its name derived from its length being equivalent to a lowercase “m”
The em dash is used as a hard pause—or break in thought, or for parenthetic emphasis.
Examples:
“When I was eight years of age, I saw Star Wars eight times within a one month period—mom wasn’t thrilled.”
“There are many people who don’t care about—or even know about—what’s going on with your latest novel. ”
It is often thought of as the Replacement Punctuation Mark Of Choice for the semicolon—though, in some instances, they may be used in tandem when multiple pauses are needed, but aren’t parenthetic.
Example:
“It was hard to imagine feeling so alone in a city of millions—so alone that each heartbeat seemed to echo through the streets; beating her name in Morse Code.”
Note: The Chicago Manual of Style does not employ spaces around dashes, which I prefer, it feels more “typeset” to me. Others like to leave a space on either side — like so. Either way is acceptable.
Shorctuts: Mac: option-shift-hyphen PC: alt-0151 HTML: — iPhone: hold down the hyphen and it will pop up
en dash (–) its name derived from its length being equivalent to a lowercase “n”
Application of the en dash is simple—it means “through.”
Examples: “2009–2010”
“Mon–Thurs”
“pp. 58–69”
Mac: option-hyphen PC: alt-0150 HTML: – iPhone: unavailable (unless you turn the Japanese Keyboard enabled)
After reading this, one should never have to employ two hyphens as a dash ever again. (Or, worse—a single one.) Nothing drains the professionalism from your writing faster than bad punctuation and grammar.
This is not a service I recall having seen advertised. Still, I felt compelled to assume the position yesterday at my brother-in-law’s memorial service.
There are obvious reasons why no one would want their picture taken at a funeral:
it’s something they’d rather forget
their makeup is running and they look like a train wreck
taking pictures is disruptive
People were, generally, having a good time, reminiscing, laughing and truly celebrating the life of their friend/loved one. And I was intentionally trying to get candid shots—shots that really captured the experience, while remaining as unobtrusive as possible.
What I found fascinating was that, when people did notice I was taking a picture of them, they would go from smiling and enjoying themselves to trying to look sad. Now, part of this could be that some random guy was taking their picture, but I got the impression that they didn’t like the idea of looking like they were having fun during such a solemn event, like it would somehow have been disrespectful to the deceased.
I can’t speak for the deceased, but I could presume that he would want nothing more than to see people having a great time celebrating his life—I know I would.
I had created a memorial Fan Page on Facebook for him, and was posting the pictures as I took them. It is amazing to see people come out of the woodwork to leave their stories, condolences and memories. And a few people had commented on how nice it was to have these pictures, as they were unable to attend. It’s the most useful Facebook has been all year.
Walking to the car, my wife and I were discussing how sad it was that we couldn’t get together and appreciate each other and recognize each others’ impact on our lives while we’re still alive. How many artists, musicians, poets and writers die penniless, only to achieve tremendous post-humous success? I guess humans need a huge slap in the face to notice pretty much anything.
I’m no exception. Walking around the service, observing all the people that loved this man, looking at the photos, videos, excerpts from his writings posted on the walls, I was reminded how I had neglected to read something he had sent months before—just tossed it aside. If I could find it, I’d read it now. Do I even deserve to?—now that it’s “legacy”?
During my last conversation with him, he had been talking about writing his life story. My wife and I were thinking “booooring.” After his sudden passing last week, I joked, “Great. Does this mean I have to tell his boring story now?”
After seeing all of these people whose lives he had touched over the years, I realized that his story was interesting. It’s just that, from what I could tell, no one acknowledged it until after he was gone.
It makes sense that death would bring us together. Other than birth, death is our only recognized experiential common denominator. Perhaps there are more. Perhaps it’s worth looking a little deeper into the lives of those around you. Perhaps it’s worth looking a little deeper into your own story, maybe even sharing—just a little bit of it—now.
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Note: the word here will not coincide with the word on oneword.com.
I’m sitting in the ICU at Northridge Medical Center. Everything’s okay with me. My brother-in-law—not so much.
Long story short, he has pancreatitis, and it’s suddenly become life-threatening.
He could literally die any second now, and I’m watching this absurd family drama playing out. And from my third-party perspective, it’s interesting to hear people arguing about whom he would and wouldn’t want here, when really it’s who they want or don’t want—selfishness disguised as as selflessness.
One would think that someone on their potential deathbed would be an absolver of petty drama. (And all drama is petty.)
As I sit here amongst wailing spouses and relatives of others whose future is uncertain (or way more certain, depending on how you look at it), I can’t help but notice that the sore throat that seemed so in my face and annoying this morning is now a distant background hum. The work deadline I was rushing to make an hour ago doesn’t matter. And I’m happy to be here. Happy to have the health and beauty that is truly rampant in my life.
I was trying to think of a Google query I could make that wouldn’t result in porn:
“the holy bible king james version”
As one can see, SafeSearch is turned off. (I’m sure this wouldn’t have come up otherwise.)
As funny and ironic as BiblePorn™ is, this exercise is disheartening on a few different levels:
a) Level of ease.
When I was a kid, I had to actually go outside and FIND porn. Usually in a vacant field. I’m not saying that porn was healthier back then. But at least there was a mild amount of exercise and exploration involved.
b) The obvious level.
The word “porn” affiliated with the word “Bible” may be considered offensive to millions of people.
c) The level that is the point of this article.
Where do we draw the line?
I understand that parents don’t want their kids exposed to porn in general—let alone while researching their 5th Grade English essay.
I was visiting family recently and their internet service provider had an option that blocked “inappropriate” sites. In the few days I was there, I noticed it blocked a number of sites that I needed to access that weren’t the least bit inappropriate. Yet, had I been writing this article then, I have no doubt I could have looked for porn and been successful.
The kids will always find it. They are, for the most part, way smarter than parents—especially when it comes to technology. And the porn industry will always find ways around attempts to thwart them.
Instead of scrambling to protect children from pornography—educate them about sexuality. I won’t go into the scientific studies done around the subject of the benefits of a healthy sexuality (you can have your own fun Googling that).
Could it be that we have it backwards?
In America, watching countless TV shows and movies depicting violence and murder is as commonplace as lettuce, yet the sight or mention of something as beautiful and natural as the human body leaves people cringing in protest—burning books.
Given the freedom to make choices, children and adults alike become active participants in their lives, rather than subjects. Making choices is how we discover what works for us as individuals. It’s how we evolve. It’s how we move from someone else’s vision of what we are—to who we are.
Germany’s Autobahn is one of the safest roads in the world—a road without speed limits.
Breathing out
of phase
Both above
and underneath
the same stars
Falling eons
before us
To wish upon—
It was us
falling—
A multiversal
swoon
gathered us
Painted us
Each delicate stroke
an overwhelming
miracle
Posted: January 31st, 2010
Categories: poetry
Tags:
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Two weeks ago, I decided that a possible solution for my lower back pain would be to get an inversion table.
For those of you who don’t know what this is, an inversion table is a contraption that you lay on, then lock your feet to a bar on the bottom, then you flip backwards and hang upside-down.
I really haven’t seen any unhealthy bats or possums (excluding roadkill), so I think I’m really onto something with this whole hanging upside-down thing.
When I was a kid, I’d hang upside-down, do backflips on the trampoline, and swing around like a little monkey day in day out. As an adult, I am still like a monkey—only one who sits in front of a computer all day.
I had tried inversion machines before over the years—but this time I was committed.
After throwing my back out worse putting the thing together, I excitedly climbed aboard and flipped it and reversed it. Like teenage sex, I could only last for maybe 30 seconds, as it was a little more anxious of an experience than anticipated. I felt like my head was going to explode.
I found it amazing how powerful the pull of gravity is. When you are in the opposite position to the one in which you spend 99.99999% of the time, it really becomes apparent.
As I’m hanging there, I’m thinking, “No wonder people shrink, shrivel, get old and die—this is intense!” No wonder babies cry first thing post-utero. In addition to having to suddenly breathe air instead of liquid, they also have this crazy force crushing them after floating around la-de-da for nine months.
Then I started thinking how perfect it was. It’s the perfect balance of keeping me from floating away and crushing me into a pancake. If it were just a little less, I’d hit a bump in my car and flip over. If it were just a little more, I’d break the keyboard trying to type right now.
It’s only been a couple of weeks, but my back is beginning to feel a little better already. Also, my mind feels a little clearer. Maybe there’s something to having your heart above your brain for a few minutes per day.
In 2005 I was working on a commercial for Motorola. Being Motorola and all, they had prototypes of phones that had not yet been released, one of which was a rectangular phone with only one button and a touchscreen—sound familiar?
I thought it was great, and the client said that it was already popular in Japan, but according to their test marketing, the US wasn’t falling for a phone with no buttons.
The product in question was a phone that was both an MP3 player, and would stream music via the internet—sound familiar?
The iPod already had a monopoly on MP3 players and it hurt to know that all this work I was doing was futile. When they decided on The B-52’s song “Roam” (absurd even without the negative cell phone implications), the death knell was deafening.
So, obviously, that didn’t fly, nor did their touch-phone beat Apple to the punch. And now, I, and the millions, have an iPhone and freaking love it. I can’t imagine life without it—I can update this blog, control my home or studio computer from anywhere in the world, record a song demo, read a book, shoot and edit a video—maybe I’ll use it to make a call someday.
With Apple’s ultra-hyped tablet being officially announced this coming Wednesday, I can already see the future of mobile communications, and it has a big Apple logo on it—and I’m glad of it.
People who complain about Apple don’t know Apple. They do things right, and right is worth paying for. And they’ve outdone themselves year after year.
It’s not so much the technology, really, it’s the heart that Apple puts into everything they do, from the simple and beautiful packaging to the products themselves to the advertising to their retail stores to the software that runs on their products—it’s a shining example of a brand done right.
As with the iPhone I’m sure there have been people walking around Japan with similar touch tablets for some time now—more power to them. They will make valuable collector’s items one day.
They say one can see the Great Wall of China from space. Maybe. If you’re looking through a high-powered telescope. Still, even as humans approach the 7-billion mark, John Q. Alien would be hard-pressed to see any evidence of life while passing our planet in his spacemobile.
I recycle, I don’t litter, I lost my SUV—hell, I’m a vegetarian. I’m all for beautifying the Earth and replacing outdated technologies with new, cheaper, cleaner, sustainable alternatives—just to make the grass a little greener and the air a little fresher.
I recognize that our planet is experiencing “Climate Change” or “Global Warming.” I mean, there was a tornado warning in Los Angeles yesterday—what’s that about?
Climate change is definitely happening, yet I find it ever so slightly arrogant to claim that humans are causing it.
It’s called evolution, folks. This planet has experienced at least five Ice Ages before. Did prior civilizations invoke them?—Unlikely. Cavemen? Dinosaurs? The people of Atlantis?—probably not.
Just like everything else in this Universe—including the Universe itself—the Earth is expanding and evolving, just as it always has. Of course the polar ice caps are melting—duh!—they’ve been melting for eons, they are remnants of a Glacial period.
Perhaps the Earth is gearing itself up for another substantial shift, and things seem accelerated from our perspective. Regardless, Earth knows what it’s doing. It’s been at it for billions of years, while Homo Sapiens have been here 0.005% of that time—a blip on the screen—and we act as if we are the end-all/be-all of power.
Sure, we’re capable of obliterating ourselves, and maybe putting a few scratches in Earth’s paint job—but to think that Earth is dependent on us for survival is absurd.
Polar bears and seals aren’t freaking out about it. They understand that it’s the natural order of things to evolve. Of course we, in our arrogance/ignorance, attempt to attach human emotions and fears to creatures incapable of our neuroses.
There may be a giant plastic island twice the size of Texas in the Pacific—and it’s repulsive that we could let that happen. And I’m not cheering when an oil tanker flies off a bridge, or a Polar Bear’s cave melts. I’m simply attempting to see it for what it really is—a matter of respect. Respect for the formidable power of this planet—not our own stupidity and ignorance disguised as power. Respect for the gift and miracle that it is to be here at all.
My first song in, well, too long to mention: Free For Now
Free For Now When I woke up, it had snowed in LA
The fix-it man won’t sell me something not meant to break
‘Cause when I showed up, I was sparkling clean
The teacher always comes with a lesson
Maybe we’re free for now, love
Like the blackbirds and doves
Free for now, love
If one things for sure, we’ve suffered enough
I wanted so much, that want is all I do
and I play the part of me playin’ the part of playin’ you
When we stand up, all the windows and doors
Can all lock tight behind us
Maybe we’re free for now, love…
Free for now, love
Like the blackbirds and doves
Free for now, love
No more pushes and shoves
Free for now, love
If one thing’s for sure we’ve suffered enough
1963 was before my time, and I had only heard excerpts over the years, so today I decided to watch Martin Luther King, Jr.’s famed “I Have A Dream” speech in its entirety.
One very obvious and notable aspect to this particular Martin Luther King Day is President Barack Obama. During the decade that this speech was given, it would have been considered blasphemous by many to even suggest the possibility of a black president. Yet here we stand in that reality a mere 50 years later.
Any black American will attest that racism still exists, but considering that it took eons just for humans to figure out how to stand up, it’s amazing we can make any notable social evolution in 50 years.
It is the dichotomy of the Human Condition to want change, yet fear change more than anything. And, in a universe where expansion is the name of the game, we have no choice but to suffer the subsequent growing pains and get dragged to the next level—then act like it was our idea in the first place.
In this world of instant gratification, it feels overwhelming to consider how far we have yet to go. However, today we can take a moment to stand back and appreciate how far we have come. And take comfort in knowing that someone had a dream—and that it is coming true right before our very eyes.
The other day I saw a Facebook post saying something to the effect of “If there is a God, why would he do this to these poor people?” (referring to the earthquake in Haiti.)
Certainly not a bad question. I mean, really—who does that? Is God some schizophrenic mother, coddling her child for years only to suddenly toss them into traffic?
For the sake of argument, let’s say that there is a supreme being—one who gave us life and created us in their image. It would then stand to reason that this entity, being supreme and all, would reside elsewhere in a supreme location or dimension of some sort. One could surmise that even the most lush Earthly Eden would pale in comparison to this supreme galactic real estate.
Despite being located in the paradise-esque Caribbean Islands, Haiti has the highest poverty rate in the Western Hemisphere. The majority of Haitians live a life inconceivable to anyone fortunate enough to be sitting in front of a computer, stumbling upon entries about God on some random blog.
Nonetheless, in our scenario here, all inhabitants of Earth are beloved offspring of this supreme being, so it would compute that, upon termination of their visit to Earth, they would go back to this supreme residence.
The conceit is that only in a scenario without a God would death be a punishment—in which case there is no one to do the punishing to begin with. And where death and earthquakes are simply the natural order of an intelligent and ever-changing universe.
For those of you who unfamiliar with the popular Christian televangelist’s latest drama, he recently stated that the earthquake in Haiti was the result of a “pact to the devil,” made sometime in the not-so-distant past.
The famed mythological figure, Satan, himself, commented via the Minneapolis Star-Tribune on Thursday:
Dear Pat Robertson,
I know that you know that all press is good press, so I appreciate the shout-out. And you make God look like a big mean bully who kicks people when they are down, so I’m all over that action. But when you say that Haiti has made a pact with me, it is totally humiliating. I may be evil incarnate, but I’m no welcher.
The way you put it, making a deal with me leaves folks desperate and impoverished. Sure, in the afterlife, but when I strike bargains with people, they first get something here on earth—glamor, beauty, talent, wealth, fame, glory, a golden fiddle. Those Haitians have nothing, and I mean nothing. And that was before the earthquake.
Haven’t you seen “Crossroads”? Or “Damn Yankees”? If I had a thing going with Haiti, there’d be lots of banks, skyscrapers, SUVs, exclusive night clubs, Botox—that kind of thing. An 80 percent poverty rate is so not my style. Nothing against it—I’m just saying: Not how I roll.
You’re doing great work, Pat, and I don’t want to clip your wings—just, come on, you’re making me look bad. And not the good kind of bad.
Keep blaming God. That’s working. But leave me out of it, please. Or we may need to renegotiate your own contract.
Best, Satan
Nice work, Satan. Proving, yet again, that even a non-existent, fictitious being is smarter than the average religious icon.
So shut up and text YELE to 501501 to instantly donate $5 for Haitian relief (courtesy Wyclef Jean), or text HAITI to 90999 and $10 will be donated to the Red Cross. Charges will be applied to your next phone bill.
I was looking at The Huffington Post’s “Funniest Protest Signs Of ‘09” [citation needed]. And there are, of course, a ton of hilarious Prop 8/anti-gay signs bubbling up from the lower echelons of IQville, as usual.
I don’t personally believe in a heaven or hell. But if I did, and if all gay people are bound for hell—then that’s where I want to go, too!
Because, not only are all the gay people going there—all the great musicians, writers, poets, prophets (blasphemy, right?), and decent artists are too.
So, basically heaven would have the worst décor, clothes, architecture, music and art—stucco buildings filled with puffy Southwestern-style couches and people with an average IQ of 12 in clashing variants of white polyester. Then, to top it off, it’d be filled to the off-white brim with mostly people I had been intentionally avoiding my entire mortal existence.
Oh, and heaven would be cold. We’d have all the fire and lavender-scented brimstone.
Apparently, before I got to it, this domain was occupied by some sort of religious organization. I’m supposing that it had something to do with the “word of God” being the “one word”.
Anyway, someone emailed someone at oneword about how she “loved the sermon” and really enjoyed the “Mohammed vs. Jesus” study.
I said “sorry, whomever you’re trying to reach is no longer at this address, as far as Jesus and Mohammed goes—I’m sure they’re best friends.”
In fact, Islam is all about Jesus. Their story involves a live ascension to heaven and no painful crucifixion—which I’m sure he appreciates.
I just find it interesting how religions pit themselves against one another constantly (and have been for ages) all of which are preaching Peace On Earth and Unconditional Love, all the while fanning flames of war and hatred based on all manner of conditions.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Jesus, and Buddha, and Mohammed, and Allah, and God in general. But—and I’m sure She would back me up on this one—FUCK religion.
That title isn’t really relevant. But this is oneword, and it’s all about flow and not editing and all that, and that’s what popped in there.
The story is that I did an interview with Eden Tyler at Fuel today and was asked about the blog and if I planned on updating it. And I was, like, “Oh yeah… I have a blog” (that was sorta the bitch-slap). Then, over the course of the day, I had already forgotten about it yet again until my wife updated her blog, which has the same theme as this one, and it reminded me that I need to update this blog. That’s how spacey I am.
And it’s really good that I’m writing here because, although I have no insightful social commentary or poetry or pictures, I do happen to have a little holiday film that I put together that you might enjoy. Or you might throw up. But here it is:
I was thinking as I posted today’s word—blossom—that the first thing that came to mind was the early 90’s TV show. I always thought the actor that played Blossom (Mayim Bialik) was cute. In fact, I saw her at a club in LA in the early 00’s and she asked me for a cigarette. I tried flirting with her but it turned out she had a boyfriend or fiancée or something.
Anyway, my first thought was that it will be interesting to see how many people are reminded of that show, and how many people write about flowers blossoming or coming of age. I have a feeling a lot of people will mention that show.
Then I thought maybe I should use “bloom,” then I thought of Orlando Bloom and wondered if more people would post about him than flowers.
Basically I was just thinking it was slightly sad how dominant a role pop culture plays in our lives. When I first saw the “I’m lovin’ it” McDonald’s tag line, I thought “how lame is that?”. But now I understand the brilliance/manipulation of taking an everyday phrase and making it your tagline—it creates loads of free press.
We can no longer “just do it” or “have it our way” or be “priceless.”
I’ll bet you don’t even know our slogan…
Posted: September 10th, 2009
Categories: blog
Tags:
Comments: 4 Comments.
Admittedly, yesterday’s word—poet—was specifically chosen to test oneword’s potential for bringing in a little bit of money. I have parking tickets to pay.
So, with the word “poet”, I generated 3 clicks out of 509 impressions today.
Last week, there were 6,465 impressions on a high-traffic day, and there were only 8 clicks.
That’s quite a difference. Why? Because when the word was “poet” it produced entries that had to do with—you guessed it—poetry and writing. Which, in turn, generated ads about poetry and writing.
Normally, the ads do not. When the word of the day is “sidewalk”, there are ads for paving companies. When the word of the day is “rain”, there are ads for rain gutter cleaning companies. I want ads for writers.
So, this gave me an idea. I went and wrote a couple of paragraphs about how I loved writing and poetry and how I wanted to get my book published and I’m writing three novels, etc. (not true.) And, sure enough, today, there are ads for book publishers and writing-related products and services.
I can’t be too mad at Google. Oneword is just one of those rare sites where the content really has nothing to do with the subject matter of the site. Bless adsense’s little heart for trying to sell writers corn-on-the-cob holders and bran muffin mix.
