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![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) teh_dirty_robot | |
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On Friday, I did laundry, which is maybe a bigger undertaking than you realize. Allow me to clarify: I did laundry for the very first time since mid-October. I know this is the case since I found a ticket stub for 'Where the Wild Things Are' in a jeanpocket. I honestly don't know what's more sad--that I let laundry go this long, or that I was ABLE to let laundry go this long. ...I should probably clean out my closets again. I blame the now-shuttered Steve & Barry's for selling me jeans and sweaters at $10 a pop. As a reward for my Herculean triumph over a month and a half of laziness and piles and piles of jeans, t-shirts, unmentionables, and bedsheets, I walked* to the cheapy movie theater near my place--I love that for three bucks, I've got the place all to myself. The walk home was a bit dodgy as at some point during the couple of hours I was in the theater, it rained and then dipped below freezing, so every paved surface was icy, but I took it slow and managed not to be someone else's laugh riot for the evening. On my way home, I noted that the weekly (nightly?) Douche Convention For Douches was in business. These guys gather at the gas station and then race their cars down the streets, endangering everyone. The city has responded to this phenomenon by posting 'no racing' signs which maybe hasn't been as effective as they'd hoped.  On Saturday, I walked to Tukwila/Southcenter to pick up some things I needed for holiday gifts--I had also intended to get an assload of rhinestones to turn my Santa(rchy) costume into a Sparkle Magic Santa costume, but as it turns out, those tacky 80s jackets bedazzled to death are worth a tiny fortune, so Sparkle Magic Santa is off for this year, and in his place will be Smooth Velvet Ultralounge Santa. I also bought some wrapping paper to do the annual 'blind wrapping of gifts' which is truly the saddest tradition ever--it involves cutting several sheets of suitable size wrapping paper, and then opening the shipping boxes my mom sends with my eyes closed and, keeping them closed, wrapping everything so it's not just a carboard amazon.com box sitting next to my tiny tree, which I personally think looks even MORE sad than an outside observer witnessing the blind wrap. While on my shopping expedition, I saw this:  Really? Is this a thing now? Maybe I've spent too much time devil-worshipping and laundry-avoiding and scientist-of-the-futuring (it might have not been a word before, but it is NOW), but I don't remember Rock Band being all 'WE SALUTE YOU, OUR HALF-INFLATED DARK LORD!' I also don't remember 'fun' being on Moses' Great Big List Of No-Nos, but 'rocking out' to soft contemporary Christian favorites sounds like a world-class-grade-one-jesus-motherhumpin g-christ-nuke-strike against fun. You can trust me on this. I had to go to bible camp for two summers. It was exactly like the regular camp that normal kids get to go to, except devoid of fun. It was like a black hole that only sucked particles of fun, never to be seen again. It's where Old 'Fun' Yeller gets put down by little Tim. The one, pure, joy-filled moment was when I slapped another girl across the face, and she, as behooved her true Christian nature, turned the other cheek. Which I then proceeded to slap. ...I didn't have to go to camp the next year. I also saw this on my shopping expedition:  Really? Is this a thing now? What, your yard needed a little sprucin' and the plain pink flamingos seemed a little out of season and aren't visible for as many hours a day now, given how early the sun sets so it's harder to impress the neighbors by flaunting your vertible pink fortune? After my various mockeries, I hopped a bus to Kent Station to catch the tail end of the Kent Winterfest celebration. The parade was a bit short--drummers, the something-something princess on a float, Santa in a firetruck, and, bringing up the rear, llamas. At first, I thought one of them might be Rojo the Therapy Llama, but no, these were just regular fluffy llamas, dressed up like elves. I'm not going to lie, I trotted right over to pet one, and I know this is going to sound terrible if you read it the wrong way, but you can seriously plunge your hands up to the wrists in fur, they are sooooo very fluffy. I still don't know why there were llamas in the parade. Especially after Santa, whom I would expect is the big draw. *I feel it's important to note that when I talk about walking someplace, I'm really and truly not complaining. Honestly. This may change when winter really sets in and it's raining 99% of the time or I have to wade through hip-deep** snow, and getting groceries can be a bit of a pain, but for now, I am really enjoying these walks. I came to this realization when I shrugged off a ride home from work on Thursday: I like the exercise, I like the fresh air, I like the sense of purpose I have when I leave my place, I like how much better-organized it's forced me to become (because as much as I like the walks, I don't like unnecessary multiple trips), I like that it makes me feel strong and capable instead of wholly dependent on others or an unreliable, inscrutable public transit system. **It doesn't snow THAT much here, I am just quite short and occasionally fall into drifts because I am the sort of person who wanders off into the wilderness to die. Tags: cthulhumas, maybe just maybe i am an asshole, video games
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txtriffidranch | |
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A bit of fun: while eyemage discovered what could be a great piece of garden decoration, namely a full-sized Apollo lunar lander model, I have to admit that I was slightly disappointed. That's only because what I'd prefer to snag, if I had that kind of money lying around, would be models of several of the early Mars landers, both working and ones that never broadcast any usable data. While a working Viking 1 would be impressive, I'm pretty certain that an operational Mars 6 would do a better job at scaring off the treerats. Oh, and I've been joking about it for years, but elionwyr discovered the one holiday event I wish I could attend. For one day this coming weekend, there'll be a little bit of Dallas in Pennsylvania. And a couple of minor observations today, just because it's been a bit of a rough one: - Everybody goes nuts over the Peanuts character Woodstock, Snoopy's buddy. You find Woodstock all over everything, from notebooks to hairbrushes. I just have to ask "Where's the love for his little brother Altamont?"
- Likewise, with the arrival of the holiday season comes reminders of the horror of the Star Wars Holiday Special. (Yes, I'm old enough to remember when it ran, and just barely old enough to have thought this would be a great idea when I first heard about it. That funny wrinkle between my eyes comes from how, 32 years later, I'm still asking myself what happened.) Now here's one for you alternate history buffs: when are we going to see the Holiday Special from the reality where George Romero, not George Lucas, made the biggest moneymaker of the Seventies. I mean, you have to admit that Gaylen Ross was probably a much better singer than Carrie Fisher, right?
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lurkerwithout | |
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Nov 1st: William Dietz - When Duty Calls: The 8th Legion of the Damned book. The Confederacy/Ramathian War continues. The President and his staff attempt to form stronger ties with the Clone Hegemony or, since they begin undergoing their own political revolution, their government's succesors. At the same time the Ramathians seize control of Earth... Nov 2nd: Charles Stross - The Family Trade: I liked the first book in this series, enough so that I bought the next three. The lead, an investigative journalist, who gets fired for bringing a story more closely tied to her bosses then she thought. I was intrigued even more when she discovers 1. that she can travel between two different worlds and 2. that she's a lost member of a large family with that talent. But later books, as Stross adds THREE different "evil" governments fighting the Clan. And a renegade branch of said Clan. AND all kinds of in-Clan violent politics. Just too much. Any one of those would have worked fine as the major conflict. But thats five. Plus teases of yet something else in the fourth book. Seriously man, just pick like two. Anyway, while I've thought about maybe borrowing a copy of the 5th book I'm no longer invested enough to rush out for it... Nov 3rd: Daniel Abraham, Gardner Dozois & George R.R. Martin - Hunter's Run: This is one of those "liked the concept more than the execution" things. Its a well done piece of scifi. And the concept: a group of aliens clones a human to help them catch the original is interesting. But the book just failed to impress me... Nov 4th: E.E. Knight - Fall With Honor: A return to Valentine and the Vampire Earth. A major military push by Free humanity is derailed by a surprise attack and a very odd way of using psychic mind-games... Nov 6th: Stross - The Hidden Family: See above Nov 8th: Stross - The Clan Corporate: Natch Nov 9th: Glen Cook - The Tyranny of the Night: This is the first of Cook's big fantasy epics that really managed to hook me in. Not that it couldn't use a fucking map so I could better figure out where all these places were in relation to each other... Nov 10th & 11th: Stross - The Atrocity Archive & The Jennifer Morgue: Think MI-5 meets Call of Cthulu meets The IT Crowd... Nov 12th: Joeseph Selby - Black Magic & BBQ: Friend bccreations' novel that he's shopping around. Which I hope someone picks up since I want to see more of his secret faux-Gods and the Speech. Plus the cat. Always more of the cat... Also: Bastard. Nov 13th: Andrew Vachss - Hard Candy: Burke is hired by his first "girlfriend" to retrieve her daughter from a charismatic cult leader... Nov 14th: Stross - The Merchant's War: As above Nov 16th: Kate Elliot - Spirit Gate: I like the giant-eagle riding Reeves concept best I think. Roving cops/social workers. Plus the series has so many bad guys I want to see die. The Qin horsemen are pretty cool also... Nov 17th: James Elroy - The Black Dahlia: Its a pity that the movie version of this is supposed to be pretty crap. 'Cause this was some excellent L.A. centered noir... Kelly Armstrong - Dime Store Magic: Despite disliking Bitten I decided to give Armstrong another go after mostly enjoying a short story follow-up to this novel in one of those urban fantasy collections. Probably Blood Lite. But something about her writing just rubs me the wrong way. Didn't finish, tossed into the trade box... Nov 18th: Bernard Cornwell - Sharpe's Fury: Sharpe ends up in a besieged Spanish city after a simple bridge destroying mission goes partly wrong. Also at the battle where the real-world first French Eagle was captured... Lois McMaster Bujold - A Civil Campaign: This is probably my favorite of the Vorkosogian books. Especially the dinner. Oh the disastrous dinner party... Nov 19th: Vachss - False Allegations: Burke ends up working for a lawyer who specializes in disproving child abuse allegations. Though even given Burke's level of paranoia and how opposite their views would be, the convoluted way the lawyer goes about hiring Burke seems excessive... Nov 21st: Terry Pratchett, Ian Stewart & Jack Cohen - The Science of Discworld III: Darwin's Watch: Mostly centered around evolution. I should really check out Stewart and Cohen's solo books... Nov 22nd: David Cook - Soldiers of Ice: A Forgotten Realms D&D novel. With gnolls. Because gnolls are cool... Nov 24th: Vachss - Safe House: Burke is brought in to help a network meant to help stalked/abused women. Partly because to make sure a prison friend of his doesn't go down for a murder... Cornwell - Sharpe's Devil: The final Sharpe's book. Sharpe and Harper agree to travel to South America at the behest of the wife of a friend from the Spainish campaign. And along the way their ship stops off and they get to meet Napolean... Nov 25th: Jim Butcher - First Lord's Fury: And the end of the Codex Alera. First Lord Octavius and his family make a desperate and final stand against the Vord... Nov 26th: Vachss - Born Bad: A collection of short fiction by Vachss. Including a series of scifi ones. His "Underground" setting reminds of Logan's Run more than anything else. Or maybe a serious version of Paranoia... Nov 29th: Elliot - Shadow Gate: The origin of the enemy plaguing the Hundred comes out as the southern lands of the Hundred and the immigrated Qin work to rebuild and prepare for the coming battles... Total Books: 25 Tags: book list meme, books, music, videos
What Cheesy Canned Mood Fits?:  accomplished
Current Music: Jekyll & Hyde, Bring on the men
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warren_ellis | |
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(Automatically crossposted from warrenellis.com. Feel free to comment here or at my internet church at Whitechapel. If anything in this post looks weird, it's because LJ is run on steampipes and rubber bands -- please click through to the main site.)
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warren_ellis | |
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(Automatically crossposted from warrenellis.com. Feel free to comment here or at my internet church at Whitechapel. If anything in this post looks weird, it's because LJ is run on steampipes and rubber bands -- please click through to the main site.)
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pope_guilty | |
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I like big coats. Anyone who's seem me when it's cold can tell you that. I love being wrapped up in a rain or trench coat, hood up, gloves on, boots trudging through snow. Some people hate it, but I like walking outside more during the winter than during the summer. I even have a hat with the top ripped out- when it's cold enough that I need to cover my face, I pull it down over my face and pull up my hood.
My favorite coat I've ever had is the one I got for Christmas in 2003. It's a drab, olive green cotton raincoat that stopped repelling water years ago. I only got it because it was deeply discounted for clearance; it's a Ralph Lauren of all things, and was down to about $50 if I recall. So it was a nice coat.
I tend to slowly destroy my clothes, especially the ones I wear a lot, and I wore that coat all the damn time. When it started cooling down it was an effective windbreaker and rain coat; when it got colder I wore a thin sweatjacket under it and was warmer than I'd ever been in thicker coats. Over time it got shredded from the wear and tear- the back and elbows wore through, and the increasingly threadbare material of the pockets caught on doorknobs and ripped open, and so on. In early 2007 I threw it in the washer and then took a roll of duct tape to it, halting the spread of the existing rips and reconstructing much of one of the pockets. Many of you who know me away from the keyboard know the coat, with its strips of tape across the back and on the elbows. It's a distinctive coat, and I love it the way people do with that one piece of clothing that they've had and worn for ages. I've gone looking for another, but it does not appear that anyone makes a coat like that anymore, and it would likely be several hundred dollars if they did.
I've discovered that in addition to the checks and the laptop, the folks who broke into my apartment stole my coat. They took a pad of checks, which makes sense, and they took a laptop, which also makes sense. The checks can be canceled and replaced, and I have another laptop, and am fairly confident that I'll see the old one again. But then they saw a battered, shredded coat, held together with a month-old fresh application of duct tape, and they pulled out the thin green sweat jacket inside of it and took it with them. I have searched my apartment and my car repeatedly; I know I left the coat, with the sweatjacket inside of it, on the back of the chair, and the sweatjacket alone was left on the floor.
The checks and the laptop were an inconvenience; I was sad to lose them, but life went on. But taking a worthless old coat that hasn't any value to anyone but me? I'm so angry and sad about that that I can't even express it.
Just: I want my fucking coat back.
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theferrett | |
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I just saw a porno video named "Born 4 Porn." For most people, that's where it would stop.
I, however, thought, "Well, is anyone really born for porn? I thought that was more of a lifestyle choice." And then I realized I was thinking about the culture I live in, at which point I started thinking about some bizarre caste system where there was "the porn caste." You were born into fucking on camera, it was your goal from day one, and whether you like it or not you will perform.
Then I started thinking of the other cultural niches that would start expanding from that. If you were the only ones allowed to perform on-camera, would the rate of teen sexting go down, lest those cleavage shots be perceived as losing status?
And what about the porn caste actors themselves? I can't imagine it'd be the most pleasurable life, given all the objectification and assumptions you'd be prone to on a daily basis - this would be a dark story, I'm sure - but on the other hand, you'd have a whole culture engineered around enforced bisexuality, massive attention to physical detail (assuming any sort of traditional beauty standards, you WILL work out if you're in the porn caste), a lovemaking style based more on visuals than on actual feeling, and a rather cynical view of people.
How would the porn caste have come about? It'd have to be a society technologically advanced enough to have a set of working cameras, and accepting enough of sex that they'd be okay with having it stratified into their culture, but different enough to have a caste system. I'd have to really think about the history of this place, try to see how that all might have fallen into place.
Would the porn caste be lower on the scale or higher? Or, perhaps, in that weird virgin/whore category of high and low? And what would it be like to be raised in a culture where, from Day One, you know your main goal is to fuck? It'd be pretty goddamned creepy. It would, in fact, be kind of a horror show.
Then I realized I was outlining a story I didn't want to write, and stepped away. And slapped myself. Come on, dude, it's a porno film. You're not supposed to linger like that.
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txtriffidranch | |
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One of the regular complaints both the Czarina and I have had from potential customers is that they'd love to see a brick-and-mortar location. I can understand: a lot of the casual queries about "do you have a storefront?" are from the goons who expect me to be on call all night long to allow them to poke through my greenhouse if they're bored, but I also get individuals interested in some of my larger installations but who also want more time to think about it. Perfectly reasonable, and the Czarina has the same problem with some of her larger necklaces. It's not that we're antisocial, but we'd prefer to keep a distinct separation between work and home. Well, that might be changing. The Czarina and I visited a new locale yesterday called Frisco Mercantile that's a lot more than its Web site promises. Longtime Dallas residents might remember the late and lamented Olla Podrida Mall, which was Dallas's attempt at giving smaller artisans and artists an affordable venue in the Seventies and Eighties, and Frisco Mercantile offers much the same idea: offer small spaces for lease on a monthly basis, and offer a variety of art and antique offerings. At the opening party we attended yesterday, much of the content inside was the latter, but the owners and organizers are actively looking for something Different. And that's where the Czarina comes in. Now, she's gunning for setting up a space within the next few months, but I have to warn everyone that it might be a little while before I'm joining her. However, when I do, and when she gets hers going, I'll keep everyone informed.
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txtriffidranch | |
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Over the last six months, I've read a lot of interesting reviews of Greasing the Pan, but I must say that none is more honest than ekeppich's recent synopsis. Damn, it's like he knows me or something. (This, of course, means that he's stopped his five-year campaign to nag me about review copies, as he claimed he was going to submit reviews to his favorite publication. I was naturally surprised at this: I had no idea Chicks With Dicks was still printing, much less that it had a book review column. Ah well.) And as always, if you want to see what the fuss is about, tell your friends that the holidays are coming and copies are cheap and abundant. In particular, give St. Johns Booksellers and Mark Ziesing Booksellers a buzz, as they're the only places on the planet where you can buy signed copies.
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zebulingod | |
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President Franklin D. Roosevelt: Yesterday, December 7, 1941—a date which will live in infamy—the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.
The United States was at peace with that nation, and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its government and its emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific. Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the American island of Oahu, the Japanese ambassador to the United States and his colleague delivered to our secretary of state a formal reply to a recent American message. While this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or armed attack.
It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time the Japanese government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.
The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian Islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost. In addition, American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu.
Yesterday the Japanese government also launched an attack against Malaya.
Last night Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong.
Last night Japanese forces attacked Guam.
Last night Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands.
Last night Japanese forces attacked Wake Island.
And this morning the Japanese attacked Midway Island.
Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday and today speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation.
As commander in chief of the Army and Navy I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense. But always will our whole nation remember the character of the onslaught against us...(Source: Courtesy of the Franklin D. Roosevelt Library, Hyde Park, New York.) Tags: pearl harbor, ww2
Current Location: Hillsboro, OR
What Cheesy Canned Mood Fits?:  melancholy
Current Music: Silence
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czarina69 | |
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So, this place has opened up, called the Frisco Mercantile. It's on the edge of Frisco, over on Preston by the water tower, and it shows great promise. The people who opened up this place stripped an old grocery store clean, redid the floors, created nice separate booth areas, and is renting out the booth areas for individual artists. The booths are really nice, with good sturdy walls that you can paint, mount things on, or just leave as is. It's a good location, easy to spot, and it looks like they are going to do a lot of promotion. (It just opened yesterday, and the place was very, very busy.) They have antique dealers, decorators, and ARTISTS in there, and they still have booths available. You rent a booth by the month. You can do whatever you want to your booth. (Mine would require a locking showcase) and you leave your merchandise there for the employees to sell. They ask you to come in as often as you can, as the artists have a better chance of selling their own work, and the people want to meet the artists. You have to provide whatever you need for your booth, and keep up with it. Paul and I are thinking of splitting one booth. Carnivorous plants on one side, and jewelry on the other. I want to do this. It will require time, money and construction work, but I want to do this. I'd love to have a little 'storefront' that people could come by and see. I think it will be a good investment, I just need to create a locking glass showcase (possibly two), a space to create said showcase, and a little time to make it all happen. Of course, this is going to eat my weekday time. I'm thinking of throwing my Thursdays at the concept, with occasional Sundays as well. And it is a risk, as a lot is going to depend on how good of a job the owners of this establishment advertise. But I think it is a good risk. Okay, let's go to pictures. :)
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Dimension shots.
So far, this is my favorite shot of the Eye of Sauron. The sunshine was just perfect on that winter day, and I think this give the best feel for the dimension and feel of the piece. All comments welcome. |
( Read more... )
Now, I have to think. My work is getting better and better, and this is taking me out of the 'mini-show' range of shopping. Some of my pieces, people just come up and stare, like they are looking at paintings on the wall. They are afraid to ask the prices, and that's no good. The work is still reasonably priced, as I will get a "that's too low for that kind of work" every now and again, but the customers seem intimidated by the work. I'm not sure how I feel about that.
However, I still make money at these shows. I just want to take it to the next level, you know? And I want to make a good decision on that. The Frisco Mercantile would mean no further stone setting lessons, as the monthly rent will prohibit that, at least until I start turning a profit.
I'm dithering. But it is a big decision, and one that will take time to launch into. Any thoughts are very welcome, and I'm interested in advice, too. :)
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warren_ellis | |
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I am completely failing to keep track of the volume of stuff entering my house lately. I think I’ve even lost the last issue of THE WIRE, still sealed in its plastic bag. So I’m making Received Goods its own category, in an effort to force myself to at least log the physical objects being shoved through the door most days.
I pre-ordered this, and am looking forward to digging into it tonight:
Publisher Creation Books (so glad to see them still around!) have a nice little page on the book:
Starting with the guerrilla media tactics of Industrial music in the late 1970s, the author charts an ongoing trend in electronic music: an increasing amount of sonic quality, recorded output and international contact, accomplished with a decreasing amount of tools, personnel, and capital investment. From the use of laptop computers to create massive avalanches of noise, to the establishment of micro-nations populated largely by sound artists, 21st century sound culture is expanding in its scope and popularity even as it shrinks in other respects. The text of MICRO-BIONIC is built up from exhaustive research into the world of audio extremity, including physical travel to the various ‘hot spots’ where these new sounds are made…
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The author keeps a blog on the book, MICROBIONIC. He seems to be having a bit of a rough time at the moment, in fact.
I’ve always loved electronic music. I have a theory that anyone who lived in Britain through the same period as me has it kind of embedded in them, as it seemed like all children’s tv was scored by the BBC Radiophonic Workshop or their peers.
(Automatically crossposted from warrenellis.com. Feel free to comment here or at my internet church at Whitechapel. If anything in this post looks weird, it's because LJ is run on steampipes and rubber bands -- please click through to the main site.)
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warren_ellis | |
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TOTW is basically a joke that Ariana and I pull each week in our joint guise as the International Electrophonic Unit. Basically, we take some of the stupider things I’ve said on Twitter and elsewhere, often in a state of extreme alcoholic refreshment or severe sleep deprivation, and put them on a t-shirt. Ariana set up a Cafe Press store (because this is a joke and engaging with a serious maker of t-shirts would be less funny to us), and… well, once a week, here we are.
Through this website and this Cafe Press store, we’re going to release one t-shirt a week. It’ll go live on Monday… and it’ll die Sunday night — midnight UK time, more often than not. Each one lives for a week, and then it’s replaced by the next week’s shirt. Until I either run out of dumb ideas or Ariana’s brain explodes.
So, every Monday, I’ll post the new shirt here, and you can peer at it more at http://www.cafepress.com/electrophonic.
Anyway. I present to you T-Shirt Of The Week #007: I ATE THE BABY:
 (apologies to the spinning ghost of William Carlos Williams, yes)
We also offer a couple of perennial items. Mostly because I wanted one of these for myself:
(And also a MAN COOK MEAT WITH FIRE "splatter-shield", because Ariana’s crazy)
Thank you for your kind attention.
(Automatically crossposted from warrenellis.com. Feel free to comment here or at my internet church at Whitechapel. If anything in this post looks weird, it's because LJ is run on steampipes and rubber bands -- please click through to the main site.)
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theferrett | |
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When I picked up "Rules of the Game: Master the Art of Attraction in 30 Days" in the airport bookshop, I bought it for snark value. I'd already read everything in my carry-on bag thanks to a delayed flight, so why not laugh at the pickup artists?
I knew some of their techniques, made infamous by Barney on How I Met Your Mother: the "neg-banging" of women to lower their self-esteem and make them receptive to compliments, the canned anecdotes passed down from member to member like sacred treasures, the ludicrous formulas they devise ((C - R) + Q + SE = A) to measure attraction (that's the A). So I settled down, readying myself for an analysis of misogyny and male cluelessness.
Imagine my surprise when what I actually found was good advice.
Before I continue, though, let's be honest about the nature of manipulation: everyone does it, and nobody wants to admit it. Some people are really lucky in that manipulating others' reactions comes naturally: they know when to smile, know the right thing to say at a given time, instinctively understand how to make polite small talk. They're naturally gifted in getting other people to like them, which is a wondrous advantage; in many cases, they're no more aware that they're manipulating their audience than a cute baby is aware that he's inspiring "awwwwws" from the crowd.
Then there are the outcasts.
You know these folks, because they come in both male and female flavors. When they walk in to your party, you can feel that awkward pause wash across the conversation. They want to be nice - they are nice - but their smile's a little stiff, they nod their head at all the wrong times, and when they interrupt to say something they either get talked right over or their anecdote, laboriously told and having little to do with what you were talking about, brings an animated discussion to a screeching halt. You dread getting stuck in an elevator with them, because they're too sweet to blow off but they're somehow just a little... off.
They've hardly ever dated. They're continually told they're nice, they'll get their day in the sun - often by the same people who are blowing them off, because they're not evil, but do you want to spend an evening trapped under that awful, expectant gaze?
They don't know how to get people to like them. They suffer for this. They're 24-year-old virgins, wanting wanly to date, making spasmodic attempts at finding a partner and then giving up for increasingly longer periods of time.
"Just be nice," people say. But they've been nice. That generic advice they've been getting for two decades? Hasn't worked. They need specifics about how to make eye contact, how to tell a story, how to stand so they don't emanate that beaten-puppy aura.
And yet, because there's a clear hierarchy in society that hardly anyone ever talks about, if you weren't naturally gifted with charisma and have to develop it on your own, you must be a creeper. People in the know fucking hate hearing about the techniques that break down the fine details of getting people to like you - whether it's that Hooters waitress reading how touching you on the shoulder boosts tips, or the salesman who now knows that mirroring your body posture gets you far more likely to close the deal.
In other words, if you don't know it instinctively, the fact that you had to work to learn what the gifted do naturally is just skeevy. A Hooters waitress who touched you because she "liked" you? Oh, that's cool. The Hooters waitress who touched you for tips? OMG WHAT A HORRID THING. Even if her "like" merely means that subconsciously, she's realized that subtle flirting makes people like her back, and she has instinctively realized that being liked is a wonderful thing?
Is it a conscious effort? Hell, no, but that doesn't mean it's not manipulation.
What this means is that you have a whole class of reading that's gets pre-mocking right from the start, whether it's one of those books on how to land a husband or how to pick up a chick or how to market to a customer. "I wouldn't read that crap," some people say, because changing your personality to get better reactions from people is creepy, even if your personality has left you miserable and lonely. And those people usually say they wouldn't read that crap because they've mastered the rules of society without even thinking, and quietly consider it their birthright.
You either know or you don't. And to those who have the power, anyone who doesn't know is fucked.
But there are still the stranded, those dateless lonely people who drive folks away without ever knowing why. This book is not for you, most likely - it's written for the guys who are thirty and still sweat when they're in a room with a girl, because they don't know how to act. (They don't really know how to act with guys, either, but girls always have that extra societal pressure placed on men where you're supposed to be smooth with them.)
So you know what "Rules of the Game" does for these guys?
It breaks "socialization" down scientifically. The first couple of chapters don't even deal with women at all - it's about dealing with people. It's bare-bones exercises like "Make eye contact with five people today," or "Start three conversations with strangers." It's about breaking down how you dress, how you stand (no slouching!), your voice and how you use it (one exercise tells you to speak into a recorder and listen to yourself, giving specifics on what to look for).
Hell, there are several chapters devoted on how to tell a story. Not writing short stories, but just telling an amusing anecdote. Which is, as I realized, a vital skill in my socializing arsenal, but I'd never thought of how vital it was before now.
And it tells you how to listen, and constantly - constantly - tells you how to pay attention to what people are doing. Yes, the end goal is to get a date - referred to here as "a planned second encounter with a woman you've just met," and the fact that this is viewed as a task that requires thirty days of intensive exercises to get should tell you exactly what sort of guy this book is aimed at.
But in between the various ways you can refashion yourself to seem more appealing to women, there's a surprising amount of discussion about how your goal is to form connections that will be worthwhile even if you don't sleep with the person you're talking to.
For those who are starting from zero? It's all really good stuff.
Furthermore, the scientific approach in the book really takes the sting out of the inevitable rejections. Because when you get dismissed, as any human knows, it's hard not to take it as a rejection of you. But Rules goes out of its way to make excuses for other people - hey, they're busy, they might be wary for other reasons, if someone blows you off it means that your technique was incorrect. You're not allowed to go, "God, what a bitch," but rather are heavily pressured into going, "Well, she completely ignored me - what did I do wrong to deserve that?"
What you're do here is fulfilling quotas. You have to talk to three strangers and get a clothing store recommendation from them. That's all. Do that, and you've won for the day. And if someone won't give it to you, well, that's not the point. Just get your three. That's all you're concerned about: perfecting your technique until you get that bloodless, external goal.
It's an approach that nullifies the emotional damage of getting rejected... And yes, I know women have whole different sets of fear about strangers approaching you, which is entirely valid, but life also isn't a zero-sum game. Being turned down for a date is still something that hurts people, particularly when it comes over decades of rejection - and the exercises take that sting away by making sure you realize that hey, this is all about technique. It's not that they hate your soul, they hated what they saw.
You can work on what they saw.
In that light, the neg-bang becomes entirely different. The neg-bang (which isn't really referred to it as such in this book) is an excuse to get timid guys to do something that's often anathema to them: contradict a woman.
Because denial is a part of flirting, like it or not. If someone's just kissing your ass, agreeing with everything you say and never expressing anything of his own, then that's not flirting, that's an awful suckup. To interact with someone, you have to have the strength to stand up for your beliefs and say, "Whoo, you like country music? Lordy, that's not for me. Couldn't rope me into a George Strait concert if you tried."
To guys that timid, though, who've been taught that "being nice" is all it's about, having them take a conversation that's going well and then - to them - derail it by purposely disagreeing with someone they like is a Herculean act. They require that scientific principle that all but forces them to express their own opinions, because it's not something they'd ever do on their own. As such, there are of course exercises where you are called upon to say, "No, that's wrong." And getting them to do that is a good goddamned thing that will make them better conversationalists.
So what we have here is a book on "seduction" where 80% of it is actually not that at all. Scrape the surface, and what you'll find is a set of advice designed to get people - whether they're women or not - to like you. It's giving you all the little techniques for personal magnetism, something to amplify your personality without necessarily changing it wholesale. There are a couple of people I can think off of the top of my head who could genuinely use this book.
However.
...however.
I can also see where this approach would, over time, go desperately wrong. Because in taking the scientific approach to stave off the pangs of rejection, I can easily see where someone would take these rules and fetishize them.
I do not doubt at all that there are guys who have taken this to the limit of Total Crazy - utter nebbishes, once supplicants who spent thousands buying drinks and never getting a date out of it, who now are flush with power and want to see how far they can take this. I can easily see men running out to play the game of seducing as a replacement for self-esteem, seeing what exactly they can do with this set of rules, forgetting that the rules were guidelines to get them to a better place and not a goal in and of itself. And that is bordering on mysogyny (although given how you're treating the entire world as a scientific experiment for your pleasure, one wonders if it's not sloping towards misanthropy).
So what we have here is a paradox of a book: it's got a lot of solid advice that can take the hopeless to a point where they can, with luck and dedication, become a reasonably popular, friendly person. (And it does it in a way that's going to make them likely to pick it up, because "Rules of the Game: How To Stop Creeping People The Fuck Out" is never going to find an audience. People know they can't get dates; they often don't know they're putting out subtle, off-putting signals.)
But the method of getting those skills is something that can then be ridden beyond the pale to the point where you have a bunch of pathetic guys spouting hoary anecdotes, looking for empty love because they've never had it and now they want it all.
Those who read the book would be well advised to read the anecdotes at the end, wherein Neil Strauss discusses the crazy sex he's had in various countries. Those who've never had that kind of sex may well go, "Holy cow, a threesome! This guy is awesome!" Pay closer attention, my friend; look at how empty his life is, how full of wan longing and pathetic depression his words are, and you'll realize that you're gonna need to hop off of this game before you reach the end.
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kierthos | |
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 See, I don't get e-readers. I mean, why would I want something with a tiny-ass screen so it's difficult to read, that can lose battery power so I can't read anything on it, and that I'd have to re-buy any books I wanted to read on it? The argument for them goes something like "but you can put dozens of books on it instead of carrying around dozens of books". Well, yes, that would be an advantage IF I felt the need to normally carry dozens of books around. Shockingly, I don't haul dozens of books around, or have a team of sherpas to carry a large literary assortment. Plus, even the cheap ones are a couple hundred bucks. Now, this doesn't make sense to me. "But it's new technology!" No, it's not. We have had these things called laptops for a number of years now. Why would I want to pay more for the junior woodchuck version that I can only read books on? (Yes, there's a version of the Kindle that runs more then some laptops. Why? I haven't the slightest clue.)
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That-A-Way
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