I grew up with an ambition and determination without which I would have been a good deal happier… I was not sure what could be accomplished by means of tenacity and little else, but the target was set high and each rebuff only saw me more determined to see at least one major dream through to its fulfillment.

It’s both good and bad that this quotation gripped me, as I see a lot of myself in it- the raw passion and ambition into which I want to channel my energy; the hope to create something lasting or greater than myself. Unfortunately, I fear my resolve, dulled by the rebuffs and disappointments, might not be strong enough to last.

These last thoughts made me wonder, is it better to have no ambition than only a little ambition? Surely Denman’s ambition was that of a demigod. I imagine his failures and successes were, figuratively, one step back, two steps forward. His each failure meant to him success was inevitable. But what about the rest of us? What about us (myself included) that see failure as worse than moving backwards,  seen as an ending, not as a direction? Those who put their passions aside because they aren’t the easy route, or aren’t a sure thing?

It’s obvious that the sure things aren’t the building blocks of  fame or legends. And that “nothing ventured, nothing gained” or any other parable you want to throw at it, are all well and good (and obvious). But that doesn’t make it easy to leave the comfort zone of routine and expectations. In this sense, no ambition is the ultimate comfort. One doesn’t dream of being anything bigger or better, or leaving the world a better place, so they don’t have the disappointment of not living up to those expectations levied upon themselves.

Left of that idea, are those (the majority) of us that have a little ambition.

Where did that ambition come from? Well, the last generation or two has been raised by parents all preaching the uniqueness and exceptional-ness of their children nearly non-stop. I was a product of this environment, the one in which every team in the league gets a trophy, lest we make some little tykes feel bad. Or the art show with 300 ribbons given out for honorable-honorable mention, and the teachers who say “yeah sort of” when they really should be saying “No, not at all.”  Look, I understand that we need to encourage our youth, and make them confident and have good self images; perhaps the people with no ambition are the ones who did not benefit from bolstered self-confidence thrown every which way. But we also owe it to our children to let them know the truths about the world, to let them know some people have more ability in one area or another, or that mistakes are made and it’s OK, or that, well, sometimes we screw up and it’s not OK.

I grew up with a near perfect model of success. My father did incredible things in the business world, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to match those feats. I understand this now, but for a long time, he would tell me that he expected us to be more successful than he, which was always my goal. Looking back, I shouldn’t have ever used a person I am so close to, and look up to so much as a benchmark for myself. Not only because it’s difficult to achieve that level of success, but the disappointment if and when I fall short is magnified.

I should rewind a bit and say that my father’s (and mine, begrudgingly) indicator of success is financial success. An indicator that will take massive amounts of inflation for me to overcome. I also understand there are other criteria for success that are not financial, but my brain is wired this way, for better or for worse.

I’m aware that only a handful of people in the world will succeed given my criteria for success, and there is a good chance I won’t be one of them. I think I needed to learn that earlier on, not that I couldn’t live a decent, hardworking, and rewarding life, but rather dreaming without the work and fortitude will end up making me wonder where time has gone, and why have we not all done the great things we wanted to do when we were young. The Offspring also wondered this same thing.

I’m not really sure how to overcome these feelings, or what these feelings really are. Inadequacy? Inferiority? Shame? Despair? They all seem a bit too strong for what I’m feeling, especially since I still have time to change.

Disillusionment.

Disillusionment is the feeling! That moment when you realize the world isn’t our oyster, when all the wills become could haves, and the dreams our younger selves had become more distant, both figuratively and literally. Like when you beat your dad for the first time in chess or basketball, and realize he isn’t perfect or invincible, and someone else’s dad could beat him up. When we start living to pay the bills and get work done, instead of pursuing the things that make us happiest, that is disillusionment.

I don’t feel this way all the time, but when I can’t find the words to write, or the pictures to raw, or the song to hum, my mind falls back to this thought, that I’ve been blunted not by failure, but by the thought of failure.

What I do know, however, is this: no one cares if I fail. Sure, if I screw up  huge project at work, that’s not good, but in my personal life- if I don’t take the best pictures ever, or write the great American novel, or cook the tastiest meals, these don’t reflect poorly on me, and anyone worth hanging out with won’t hold it against me either (on the contrary, the ones who tell you are the ones worth keeping around).

And it’s not too late to turn it around. I don’t necessarily need to exceed my dad’s expectations, but rather change my criteria for feeling successful and whole.To meet my own expectations and to look back and feel good about the decisions I’ve made and the time I’ve spent. This I can do.

The quote above is supposed to be inspirational. I’m not sure it inspired me, but it did make me think about a lot of things that have lived in the outskirts of my subconscious. These feelings of disillusionment and failure, however slight, are not healthy for the soul. And if a paradigm shift is needed to overcome them, to be able to breath easy and feel a sense of accomplishment from within, then that’s what I’ll do. That is the dream I will see come to fulfillment.

When I started work, I was asked my professional opinion on a lot of things, most of which I could only respond with “I’ll get back to you.” A good question is usually asked by other engineers or other developers: How do you do this? Did you think about this? Why does it do that? These are questions that I like, they rely on things that I know or have dealt with before. They are ones on which I can draw from my immense (ha!) experience. Compare that to, say, a manger’s question and you can instantly feel the your feet moving- feel that? That’s the earth shaking. It’s a question like “How long will this take you?” or even worse, it’s a question that has the dreaded binary, yes/no answer. “Can you do it”, is by far the worst question a new hire can be asked, and the reasons are all summed up above with those implications we attach to our response.

Or maybe this whole “no” thing comes from confrontation-avoidance. While this is a whole other topic of conversation, my generation has been raised to think they are the most special people in the world, and any dent in this (mentally created)  armor might cause far away universes to die. But I digress.

As a new employee, I was eager to prove myself, as were many of my peers I’ve since talked to about it all, by becoming dependable and have that “get-it-done attitude”. If I said no, I’d be setting limits on my ability too early and without actually knowing what they were. Of course, we should let the answer be the truth, and not let our emotions or view of what that means move us otherwise. If the answer is disappointing, perhaps the question should be rephrased (re-scoped) or maybe they should ask someone who is more qualified, which is sometimes a staggering few people, as it turns out. But I felt I’d be sending a clear message that other people were better suited for certain tasks than I was. I wasn’t about to let that happen, and as it turned out, I got in over my head pretty quickly.

Now, maybe other people inherently have the ability to say no to certain tasks and people, but I wasn’t one of them, but part of me feels, in retrospect, that I shouldn’t have been asked some of these questions. It’s not that the project failed or I didn’t meet my deadlines, but I had to kill myself to do a few of them. At some point, people need to know what new employees don’t know, or at the very least, multiply what they think the effort will be by 2.5 (at least).

I’ve learned my lesson in one respect, I know my time lines a bit better than before. I still think I’m the right person for every job floated my way (this both a product of my self-perceived talent as well as the nature of the “find your own work or you’re out” job market). But it’s hard for me to say no when people ask me to do something- i might say that it’ll take me a while, but I’ll still say I can do it. I want to do it. I still am young and need to prove myself. And maybe I should let me work speak for itself, but the more that’s out there I feel the louder my words will be- and when something is particularly exciting to me, I don’t want to pass it up.

I added these to facebook and got surprisingly few comments on them. Maybe they aren’t that good, or people aren’t interested in them, but either way, I’m coming to realize that facebook is not a place that fosters creating, only sharing. I am sure a certain level of talent can transcend this barrier, but the majority of facebook users want to write/comment/like things that affect them or things they go through, not appreciate the random, unique, or sublime. I’m not upset about this, just need to come to terms with it. Maybe one day i’ll be talented enough to transcend user’s nominal use of sites and shape how they can use them instead.

That’s probably the only fact that will be written in the rest of this post, as it all goes considerably downhill from here. A recent book I’m reading, Plato and a Platypus Walk into a Bar, puts it interestingly regarding arguments between atheists and, well, everyone else. You can’t argue with an atheist if you believe in some god or God (or vice versa) because there is fundamentally no common ground to agree upon with which to argue from. To shore up this point, Atheists rule from the view of reason, logic, and skepticism. It’s that last one that is probably the cornerstone. Believers rule from logic, reason, and a single (I suppose it could be multiple) leap of faith.

So to hell with the facts, right? Well I guess we’ll see. But there are two types of atheists that I’ve met, most of my friends are type one: those who believe it and that’s who they are. They might not “get” why people believe in God, but they don’t always push their agenda. The second group consists of people who need to voice their opinion as an atheist and use atheism as a badge of honor or “holier-than-thou” attitude, which is funny if you think about it.

Logically, though, I don’t understand why atheists take issue with believers, as I guess I’ll call them. It kind of skids the agnostic issue, which is a perfectly valid, if non-committal, position.Why do certain atheists roll their eyes at those who pray or thank god publicly? Why do some people get upset when asked to bow their heads in a moment of silence, taking the act not for what it is: a moment of respect, but rather forced prayer? Why do people argue to remove the “under God” from the pledge of allegiance? I know of not one person, though I’m sure they exist (I believe it!) that had a strong opinion on the matter.

The issue that I think atheism boils down to which presents the problem is that of rationality. Not that believers are irrational, but skepticism is king when it comes to atheism. But “What then?”, I ask. It can’t be about conversion, for a person converted to atheism through argument alone is still a believer, but simply a believer in non-belief. Is it education? Is it Anger? Lack of respect? Wanting to feel correct?

A lot of erroneous arguments are made on both sides, two of which I see often are “This country was founded as a Christian nation” and “Religion causes war.” Both are silly arguments, regardless of their substance (which I don’t really think should be acknowledged), but illustrate how heated and biased the arguments get. We can discuss these things without trying to convert or pass judgment, or at least it is in our capacity. Why don’t we?

I really want to know more about the other side of things, but I don’t want to learn it from a person that will dismiss me because of a belief in God. And here is a hint if you’re out there, calling Him “magic” or “Superstition” is not a good way to start off the argument or introduce yourself as an atheist. Much as I’m sure that telling a person they are going to hell, a place in which he or she doesn’t believe, is a good way of saying “Good morning” to an atheist.

Before you ask, it was not the megashark slip ‘n slide, also available in 3-d. I could only wish.

The idea of a slip ‘n slide, however, is misguided. Ii mean, you’re taking a running start and diving on to a water filled surface. There is definitely sliding involved, but I don’t think there is slipping. Slipping, to me, involves some accident, a push from the gods that sends you stumbling; reeling, to go with water imagery. No, they need a better name for slip ‘n slides. Unfortunately I’m fresh out of ideas on the matter.

That’s what I’m good at, eh? Bitching about things. If I werne’t me I’d probably be really annoyed by me. Anyways, instead of bitching about something I’m going to say something nice. I’ve always been jealous of thsoe that can create something out of nothing, or those who can change the way in which I look at the world. It’s not an easy thing to do, but it happens nearly every day.

Most of the time, for me, it’s about books and the written word, but I know it happens in music and the other arts as well.

So I’m going to create something. Not sure what it is yet, but i’ll let you know when I figure that out. If it is a book, i’ve got a few things I think I’d liek to talk about, themse and motifs, really. here they are in no particular order:

Oneirology, or the study of dreams. I am not really fleshed out on this one, but I’d like to think there are oneironaugts- people who can change and control dreams. Like a friendly or villainous Freddy Kreuger.

Free-running (non-entrained) sleep.

Phantom Pain

Our blame-everyone-else-but-me society

Twitter and the diarrhea of information we get daily

Perfectionism

Consumerism (ugh)

and a few others that are a little too difficult to explain concisely.

I’m not sure how it really happened, but I’ve decided to make quite a change in my diet. I’ve decided to give up factory farmed foods as much as possibly. This will entail quoite a cutdown on my meat intake, which is probably for the best, but it doesn’t rule it out completely. I’m trying to plant/grow some of my own food and when that’s not possible, I’m going to purchase my food from farmer’s markets and other reputable, local and/or organic sellers.

I recently purchased a grass fed steak and cooked it like i would any other steak. While the meat was definitely leaner and the texture a bit different, the taste was absolutely amazing. I’ve heard that grain fed produce a more marbled piece of meat, and therefore more tender and juicy, but I could not have been happier with mine. Honestly, South Americans have been eating grass fed beef for their entire lives, and they clearly know what they are doing, so maybe it’s the American palate that is accustomed to our grain fed cows.

I’m not going to try and convince you (yet) to this until I’ve walked the walk, so to speak, for a while, but I assure you the day is coming.

I will convince you, however, to stop using the word “just.” I will of course allows it’s use in certain situations, like when talking about just anger, as I believe I have for a word in this case, or a play or novel where one wants to show a certain voice for a character, but in all actuality, the word brings absolutely nothing to the table. Think about it this way and the following few sentences.

I just ate an entire sandwich.
Don’t question me, just do it.
I just can’t do it, I’m too afraid.

Does the word bring you any closer to waht the person is saying? You just ate? does that mean 2 minutes ago? Half hour? An Hour? It’s as ambiguous as “I Ate,” which, by the way, I much prefer. The next two implicitly give a reason for soemthing. But what’s the reasoning? Do it, in all accounts, is a stronger more forceful sentence, isn’t it? I don’t udnerstand the use of this word, and the mere fact that it has “just” 10 definitions is a little mind boggling.

I won’t condemn others for using it. It’s not as hot of an issue as irregardless, or using “good” when you mean “well,” but I hope someday it will reach the same weight as those.

In other news, I’ve gone and purcahsed a slew of books. My current reading list includes:

Blindness
Dear American Airlines
Omnivore’s Dilemma
Pygmy
Gravity’s Rainbow
In Search of Lost Time
Freakonomics
Catcher in the Rye

That outta keep me busy.

By the way, you should probably read Blindness, as it’s an amazing book thus far, and one of the few works i’ve read where an author is fully able to redefine the rules of language to stress their point.

Today I saw it for the first time in a long time.

Gabe and Danielle got married today, and it was a great ceremony and reception. The music was great and the readings and prayer for the service were about as perfect as such a thing could be. What struck me about it all came near the end of the service, before “The kiss,” when we were to all silently take in one of the readings. Everyone on stage was fidgeting, uncomfortable with the silence. Some were swaying, others were darting their eyes to their friends or around the church.

But Gabe and Danielle, Mr. and Mrs. Hohrieter, were simply standing there looking at each other. It was one of those looks where a cracked smile said more than either of them could say verbally. Standing there holding hands, I felt like I was let in on some secret they have.

And it was incredible. Obviously I knew they cared about one another. They are perfect together, after all, but seeing that let me in on what a relationship can and should be like. I wrote on a not that I was jealous of them (in a joking tone) but the more and more I think of it, I am. Not a scornful jealous, but a happy for them feeling i’ve not really felt before. It’d be easy to be a tad bitter and scornful what with my recent relationship woes, but I can’t be. First of all being Danielle’s friend, but second of all I should hope we’re all as lucky as those two.

Congratulations D and Gabe, you guys have a long, exciting life ahead of you. And plenty of relatives to babysit free of charge.

I also went to the Phillies vs Dodgers game Friday night. I went with Jordan and his friends from The Shack, a Philadelphia sports bar with much love for all things Eagle, Phlyer, Phillie and 76er. The group is an eclectic bunch, from guys looking like Matisyahu and Scott Stapp, and girls on gluten free diets to those who can talk trash and moon other drivers. That being said, man they are a lot of fun. The game was going well until towards the end and alcohol had set in for the Dodger fans.

I swear I’ve never been pelted with more food items and beverages in my entire life than I was last night. After the Dodger fans went ahead and won the game, insults were thrown even further than the hotdogs with which these douchebags were armed. Now I didn’t really have a problem with it and partially expected it coming in. But they should have at least been men about it all. The girls in our troupe (said mooner and gluten-free femmes) were the target of most of the thrown items, and one guy, apparently, took a swing at one of the girls. I wish I had seen it, but unfortunately I wasn’t around at that point.

Imagine a grown man swinging at a girl over a baseball game. Stay classy, Los Angeles. And as much as I know it’s not indicative of all fans, it shows you that there are fans and people out there going Robert Deniro over this shit like they are playing in the actual game. My favorite is the asshole who’s talking shit from the left bleacher, only to run away when we saw him in the parking lot. The best way to describe it: The bleachers at Dodgers stadium are most like the internet; Anonymity plus opinion equals incredibly stupid behavior.

Making matters worse was the “security” in the park. They were too busy hassling a bunch of phillie fans for their tickets and ensuring they were sitting in the right spot instead of kicking out said douchebags hurling shit at us. Can’t remember the official who came and talked to us, but he looked like Squeak from Basketball. This guy was more interested in being our friend than actually fixing the problem, a quality I find loathsome in human beings.

I’m not perfect, but I’m not afraid to disappoint people once and a while either. There are about 4-6 girls in my past life you can confirm this with. But honestly, the expression “Don’t piss on my and tell me it’s raining” is apt here. Tell me you can’t do shit about it, don’t tell me “We can’t watch everyone,” because either way you’re failing at your job, but one way I don’t expect change. And pro-tip: If I get upset and swear, calling something “fucking ridiculous,” threatening to kick me out is a baller move. Apparently swearing is higher on the pantheon of crimes at dodger stadium than throwing a plate of nachos. At least put jalapeños on it, spice up my life.

The point of my rant is that I’m not even a Phillie fan. They are fun to watch, and i don’t mind cheering for them from time to time (but they still beat the brewers and we can’t have that happening). But I am even more of an anti-Los Angeles fan than I can describe, but I’ll try. LA Fans, go back to your freeway congested, smog filled, band-wagon jumping, waitering because you can’t act, more plastic than a matel factory, bottled water drinking, bad driving, over-populated, 7-dollar-beer selling, slicked-back or shaved head, blond or dyed blond, groupie gathering, twenty-dollar micro salad, paparazzi infested latrine that feels less and less like home than it does a pit stop on my journey through life.

Kind of wish I didn’t hit my 1000 word limit in anger, but I’ll take it. Gearing up for nanowrimo.

]]> http://www.mikegangl.com/2009/06/07/juxtaposed-emotions/feed/ 0 http://www.mikegangl.com/2009/06/01/smellories-smemory-scentories-we-must-name-them/ http://www.mikegangl.com/2009/06/01/smellories-smemory-scentories-we-must-name-them/#comments Tue, 02 Jun 2009 05:37:56 +0000 Mike http://www.mikegangl.com/?p=156 The worst part about a blog is having nothing to say.

I mean, I have thoughts everyday that are shareable. Today’s would probably be my idea for scratch and sniff food magazines. Sure, reading them is enough to tempt my tastebuds and make the corners of my mouth water (like when you smell Frank’s Hot Sauce), but smell is such a strong factor in, well everything. I remember hearing studies about smell being linked to memory, and I think it’s true. I wish I had more information, but there are certain smells that bring me back to a certain time in my life. One occurred after a car accident, and the dry, powder covering the airbags filled my coughing lungs with such a terrible odor.

A more pleasant example can be found here. the part I’m referring to is as follows:

Marcel Proust, the French novelist, described a vivid memory brought to his mind by the smell and taste of a small piece of cake (a madeleine) dipped in tea. On Sundays as a child, his aunt used to give him a piece of madeleine dipped in her tea. Many years later, when he did the same thing, “immediately, the old gray house on the street . . . rose up like a stage set,” Proust recalled. “The entire town, with its people, and houses, gardens, church, and surroundings taking shape and solidity, sprang into being from my cup of tea.”

While Proust said it better than me, the idea remains the same. I think it’s why dentist offices have such a peculiar smell (the smell of dread), and food taste less appealing when we have a cold.

It’s endlessly frustrating trying to cook something when I’m sick. I can’t for the life of me motivate myself to make food when I’m not really going to taste it. Sure, cooking is very Zen-like in that the process and the act of cooking is far more refreshing and filling than the end product, but let’s not get carried away. I would never cook a steak or BBQ pulled pork if I had a cold,  and it’s probably why I think canned soups are terrible: the smell reminds me of being sick.

That’s hardly revolutionary. Our tongue can only sense 4 + umami “tastes,” so our identification is supplemented somewhere else, otherwise everything would taste like chicken. As an aside, when did chicken get the ubiquitous moniker for “bland?” Chicken is terrific, and if you are tired of it, try another bird like squab.Interestingly, if you type “why is chicken considered bland” into Google, it thinks you mean “blind”. I think rice has the ability to be bland much more easily than chicken, that is as long as it’s not simply boiled chicken.

The thing about smell is that it, to a certain extent, it’s run its course. We developed unique senses of smell to aide in hunting and gathering, and also to avoid spoiled meats and foods so that we might stay healthy. Aside from sniffing the milk carton once and a while, I am not sure I need my sense of smell. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy and relish it, I’m not advocating this is the correct choice in a bizzare game of “would you rather.” But it doesn’t really do much for me on a day to day basis that I don’t think I could live without.

I’ve met several people in my life who had no sense of smell. One lost it from chemotherapy, another simply was not born with the ability.  The former I met while putting dog food away at Target, and was bitching about the smell when he dropped the “I had brain cancer and can’t smell anymore” bomb on me. I felt like an ass. The point is he and my other friends seem to be doing quite fine. I’m sure someone will say “what about pheromones” and what not, but those are sensed differently than smells, and we’re not even sure if a human pheromone exists and/or how the alter human behavior.

But I digress, I’d love to get a copy of Bon Appetit with scrath and smell photos for things like desserts and those salatious thanksgiving issues would be simply to die for. I can almost taste the stuffing.

Until the advertisers got a hold of it…

Now, I have been working on dream recall. It’s the first step to experience lucid dreaming, something which has been an interest of mine for a while, i’ve simply not applied myself to it. I’m working on recall and dream recognition in tandem, and if this is it working it’s actuall rather frightening to get used to at first. I really do feel like i’m losing part of my mind.

The dreams are about work, or friends, or both and they are very real conversations, perhaps bits and pieces of my waking life mingling and conversing with my unconscious. Not much unlike the Raw Shark Texts. Whatever it is, it has my stomach in knots during the day, and somewhat excited for my dreams at night. Not because they are great, but because it’s kind of weird not knowing what’s real and what is not. I guess I’m living my real own Tyler Durden. Could I wake up as someone else? Would that be such a bad thing?

As will happen when I’m writing, I got distracted by a hockey game and completely lost the train of thought… I’ll just end it here.

“If a little dreaming is dangerous, the cure for it is not to dream less but to dream more, to dream all the time.”

My father, unfortunately, does not have that luxury. For 45 some odd years of his working life, he’s been in control of his future. He decided to work here or there, buy this or that, and take vacations to where and when he wanted. All that has changed, and it’s been a struggle for him.  Hell it’d be a struggle for anyone, but I think he’s taking it in stride very well- better than I believe I could.

But it’s hard watching the ones you love grow worried and think themselves into a corner. I wish I could say something to him to make it all better, to make him worry less. When I was applying to colleges early in my junior year of high school, he saw me slacking and, afraid I was throwing away my potential, took me aside and showed what could only be called tough love. And it worked, I got off my ass and got to school and did well from there on. My point is, I wish I could do something to have such a profound effect on the man’s life. He’s given me so much and I can’t give anything back except for a listening ear and what little wisdom I have in comparison to his.

Here’s hoping it’ll do the trick, and if not… at least take his mind off of things for a while.