A blog on writing, journalism, literature, movies, comics, cartoons, tango and granola. A journal of survival in the modern world. A bucket for brain vomit. A track for mental jogging. An imaginary ear for unfulfilled conversations. A young man's last stand against procrastination and perfectionism.
This is an article about friendship and how it relates to success. The article points to a study that suggests that the number of friends a person had when he/she was young can be used as an indication to how successful the person will be in the future. It talks about levels of intimacy as well. Some experts and interviewees go on to describe in what layers of a social circle different types of friends fall, and how many populate each layer. The premise of the first part of the article is that the number of friends reflects how adept a person is for social networking, which can be a key attribute to success. Sounds like a reasonable argument, but then again, what about that type of person I'm sure you know that hangs out with friends all the time and never seems to work? You would think that allowing some alone time helps you focus in tracing and achieving your goals. Also, Ebenezer Scrooge never struck me as the kind of guy you'd call "the life of any party". I'll give this piece some credit, however, since I'm sure part of its goal was to make the reader reflect on the quality of his/her own relationships. It made me think about the people that fit the article's description of a close friend - several of whom I haven't talked to in some time. Well, maybe some of us are not good friends by conventional definitions, but hopefully no one begrudges me for that (not to mention that I personally think I used to be worse). I also have to wonder how many meaningful relationships a person with 700 "friends" can have. You know, quality over quantity: few friends you really treasure vs. collecting people in Facebook (this, I admit, is a convenient argument for a guy with little more than 30 friends). One last comment on the article: how frivolous it seems to count and classify friends! ... but I still think I'll start my flowchart.
The news today reported on the murder of Armando Rodríguez, a veteran crime reporter in Ciudad Juárez. He was shot multiple times in front of his daughter as he got into his car to take her to school and then go to work. Although colleagues are still speculating if he was in trouble because of some investigation, they say he had recently received death threats and that federal authorities knew about them. Much good it does to you in Ciudad Juárez, which has had an unprecedented wave of violence that has killed over a thousand persons this year as it has become the epicenter of an intense turf war among drug cartels. BorderReporter.com also notes said that Armando had recently fled to El Paso, but return to Juárez thinking it was safe to go back. I learned who Armando Rodríguez was when I started college at UTEP in 2001. A couple of months ago I told an editor of mine who worked with Armando some years ago that I attribute his 2001-2003 coverage of the murders of women in Ciudad Juárez and the prosecution of two scapegoats as one of my earliest influences in my decision to become a journalist. I might not be doing what I’m doing if his stories hadn’t taught me to care. I regret his death and the fact that I’ll never be able to thank him for his role in helping me develop a conscience and learn to believe in the importance of vigilant journalism. It’s hard to stay in journalism, specially in Latin America. It's often poorly paid and when you actually get good at it, it becomes dangerous. On top of it all, it can be an ungrateful job with few rewards. But some people believe it necessary. I do too. It saddens me that good, noble and committed journalists die for it. It also fills me with grief to think of his widow wife and orphaned children, and that I cannot realistically expect for his crime to be punished... although I dearly hope (wish, fantasize, pray) that his death will be the spark that will bring this battered city both the effective law enforcement and investigative journalism efforts that it so desperately needs. Other stories, some in Spanish: http://hosted.ap.org/dynamic/stories/L/LT_MEXICO_VIOLENCE?SITE=TXDAM&SECTION=HOME&TEMPLATE=DEFAULT http://www.diario.com.mx/nota.php?notaid=295c9fb4d40adef540b837f73ede842d http://www.eluniversal.com.mx/notas/555326.html http://www.eluniversal.com.mx/notas/555204.html http://www.ire.org/irenews/murdered-armando-rodriguez-crime-reporter/
Hrm... this joint looks abandoned. Here's to trying to revive this blog (I don't even like the design anymore. Green's too in my face). I'll ease my way into doing so by posting this link: Former NY governor Elliot Spitzer is getting a get-out-of-jail card after he admitted hiring a prostitute. I think this opinion piece makes a good argument on how not prosecuting Spitzer allows levity where there should be outrage, indirectly condones the "demand for paid sex (that) drives the sex businesses," lessens the importance of addressing the underlying causes that lead people into prostitution (poverty, child abuse, lack of education) and undermines the importance of firm state and federal efforts (and firm public support toward those efforts) to combat human trafficking. Food for thought. I certainly declare myself guilty, before reading this, of letting out a small chuckle when I read Spitzer was getting off the hook...
Yea, I broke my promise! Ha! I’m not surprised: I kinda suspected I would do something like this, partly because I still tend toward self-sabotage, and partly because, since this was already written, it was too easy to be lazy about it and actually post. Anyway, let’s just forget the whole promise thing – the idea of making myself publicly accountable clearly didn’t work.
(This, by the way, is part 2 for the post below this one)
The Misanthrope basically takes a jab at social hypocrisy, reason why it’s still so fresh and relevant today. The focus of its criticism is the French aristocracy of the 17th century and the protocol politeness that ruled their every interaction. Good manners were considered a sign of sophistication, so conversations were chains of one false praise after another.
Alceste, the main character, is the absolute antithesis of these practices. He’s a self-described free thinker who scorns and condemns high society’s superfluous and hollow conversation, its inability to express honest feelings, and its habit of speaking ill of others behind their backs. Thus, Alceste presents himself as an advocate of sincerity in human interactions.
After the first five to ten minutes Alceste seems like a great guy – an idealist and a true humanitarian. Then, you learn that our man Alceste is madly in love with a woman who embodies all the traits he just spent the last five to ten minutes explaining he detests.
Ah, l’amour. That’s how Alceste plainly explains his love for Celimene, a witty and frivolous socialite who beautifully lies in front of everybody’s faces but blasts and grills them when their not around. To paraphrase him: “my reason tells me not to love her but I cannot rule over the heart.”
Whatever. If you pay attention to the play, you’ll notice that they’re not that different from each other, which I think explains the attraction for his seeming antithesis.
Alceste’s contempt for the human race mirrors Celimene’s inclination to criticize absolutely everybody. Even though Alceste hates her hypocrisy, maybe he feels that she is in some way the only person who can understand him. After all, both are capable of finding flaws in every human being. I think the outcome of the final altercate between Alceste and Celimene supports this belief, but I won’t go into details as not to ruin the ending in case there’s anyone out there who wants to read/go see the play.
As the play develops, Alceste gradually becomes more radical, intolerant and nihilistic. He’s more than just firm on his principles, he’s inflexible. There’s simply no way for him to reconcile with humanity: the world’s without a remedy. Nothing, absolutely nothing pleases him. Alceste only knows how to complain and cannot even be said he seeks to lead with an example. He’s quick to criticize but he doesn’t look for ways to effect change. He has basically given up on the world.
According to Wikipedia , “French philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau, hated the play for depicting Alceste as a fool on stage. He believed that the audience should be supporting Alceste and his views about society rather than disregarding his idealistic notions and belittling him as a character.”
In that regard, it’s interesting how I began with an inclination to respect Alceste’s noble radicalism, but as I learned more about his intolerant and uncompromising personality, I started searching for validity in other characters’ stand on the issue, such as Philinte, Alceste’s friend who finds courtesy is a necessity for smooth and respectful human interactions, and presents himself as an example of tolerance and moderation.
So the characters’ personalities and fates not only reveal how Moliere felt about the issue of politeness verging on hypocrisy: his portrayal of the characters almost inevitably affects our perception of them, which in turn might also affect how we evaluate their takes on the issue.
For example, the fact that Alceste is stubborn and inconsiderate puts a bad light on his honesty-above-all argument, and the fact that Philinte is thoughtful and well-intentioned puts a good light on his moderate courtesy-for-civility argument.
I still think The Misanthrope is a thought-provoking play but because of this last issue, one may take the moral of the story to be ‘some degree of hypocrisy is a necessary evil,’ which in turn might undermine the initial question the play presents: is there a need for more honesty in human interactions?
Oh well. I think I’m ready to submit this to my 17th Century French Comedies class professor. Oh right: I don’t have one. Here’s to building my personal Sparksnotes-like collection of unsolicited essays.
PS: I tried finding a video that showed part of the play, but I could only find this one I posted, which frankly, I didn't like at all. So watch it if you want to, but you'll find this other one to be doubly misanthropic, more Hollywoody, and a lot more entertaining (You need to be up to date with your movies to follow, though).
Maybe I should go to the theater more often. I don’t because it’s usually too expensive and I’m afraid of that "crap-there-go-40-bucks-down-the-toilet" feeling that makes you wonder during the entire second act what you could have done with two 20s instead. Maybe the play could’ve picked up and become more enjoyable but unfortunately feeling cheap has truncated being attentive by that point.
So instead of checking my theater listings every week, I just wait for something to hit me in the face and go like “dude, go check me out, I’m totally rad.” Then I make sure to make it as public as possible to make it seem as if I do check the theater listings every week and look like the smart and acculturated theater-going type. I got a reputation to live up to, you know.
Anyway, the other day I get an email telling me about this play with the provocative and difficult-to-live-up-to title of “The Misanthrope.” I later found out that this is actually French and long-time defunct playwright Moliere’s best known work. Here’s what this online biography has to say about him, but besides remembering him as “that guy with the fluffy curly hair and the awkward moustache,” try to think of him as the author of these insightful quotes on comedy:
“The duty of comedy is to correct men by amusing them.”
And:
“As the purpose of comedy is to correct the vices of men, I see no reason why anyone should be exempt.”
Anyway, I had lots of fun. The troupe was fabulous, all of them very likable and charismatic. The acting felt very natural for a script in verse. I agree with this guy (scroll to the bottom) about the distracting anachronisms (the historical setting is the XVII century, but a guy in Louie XIV attire sports sunglasses, listens to his iPod and sings ‘Everybody Wants to Change the World’ in his karaoke machine for no reason and with little comical effect), but I disagree with his overall assessment of the production, which is indifferent at best. I thought they did a good job at highlighting the main universal themes of Moliere’s play.
It’s a great play with lots of food for thought. I’ll post a brief synopsis on it and some of the issues that I found interesting to reflect on in a couple of days. No, really; I will. In fact, it’s already written. It’s just too long and I wanted to break this post in two. Really! You can trust me this once, so go read the play in the meantime(sorry: couldn't find a movie adaptation). It’s old and French so it must be good! ... Try not to think of things that are French and old that aren’t good and go with me on this one, ok…?
'Sup. I’m just going to skip the part in which I apologize for not updating this blog in, what, over six months? Let’s just say you guys are smart enough to figure out who’s been winning my never-ending battle against procrastination and perfectionism lately (in my defense, I will say I’ve been working like a mule) (the reporting and typing type of mule, that is).
Lots to talk about, but the biggest most obvious thing to get out of the way is that I’ve been living in Dallas for the last four months.
That’s right, Austin kicked me out and Dallas offered me a job.
Sure, it’s not the flip-flop-wearing, lawn-chair-chilling laidback paradise that Austin is, but Dallas is the perfect destination for someone who had a hard time surviving a grueling year-long sabbatical of self-contemplation (which sometimes felt like that scene in Zoot Suit with the guy going nuts in the isolation chamber and Edward James Olmos not shutting the hell up) (rent it, though).
So now I’m living alone for the first time, and I’ll tell ya, I’m scary good pals with loneliness. Once I corrected or learned to live with the several shortcomings of the hole I call my "efficiency" apartment (a friend told me the building reminded her of the Bates Mansion in Psycho), I’ve spent many long and wonderful weekends without taking a shower, reading comic books and old newspapers or watching cartoons in my computer (that’s right, I have no TV: the most significant step toward making my life more poetic. Until I installed the internet, of course).
Same reason why I’ve been making an effort (make no mistake: it is an effort) to be a bit more social. So I’ve been actively trying to keep good relationships with my fistful of new friends in hopes that eventually one of them will introduce me to a cute eligible gal that might understand (maybe even share!) my hermitic impulses.
I was going to tell you about my apartment and the missing window pane, the broken fridge, the light that wouldn’t go off, the shower pipe that wouldn’t drain, the toilet without a lid and the closets without tubes to hang clothes on, but I’m feeling lazy. Fortunately, in my need to explain my laziness, I already told you.
Unfortunately, my laziness does prevent me from telling you other things about the city, but better not to force me to do anything and just tell you later (think about it this way: I allow myself to have realistic, repeatable goals. Just as I don’t do more than 40 pushups even though I could probably force 50, I’m not going to write more than what I already did as not to annoy myself or start fearing the next kilometric blog I’ll have to write).
Just remind me to tell you about East Dallas and my reflections on Austin seen from afar. Coming up soon. Fo' realz.
Maybe you’ve heard my take on fortune cookies. They give you one of these cookies after every meal at most any Chinese restaurant, right? Well, what’s so fortunate about receiving a cookie you’re basically paying to receive?? If I'd buy a Snickers bar at the 7-11, I wouldn’t consider myself lucky for having received a Snickers bar (I would consider myself stupid for buying crappy chocolate) (which I’ve done, by the way – TV told me to do it). And I don’t think it’s very lucky either to receive a variation of a vague and generic message that has been reprinted a bazillion times. So I play a little game. Every time I get a fortune cookie, I look at the Lottery numbers, and if I find my favorite number among them, then I consider the message to be of a particular relevance to me. I think of it as plugging the fortune into the cookie.
Of course, I’ve never found any useful heaven-sent message in a fortune cookie (last cookie said: “Ask not what your fortune cookie can do for you but what you can do for your fortune cookie.” Thank you, Donald Lau). But man, have I looked for one. I collect pieces of paper I find on the streets. My notebook is filled with stickers I ripped from some wall, considering they were put on my way for me to keep. I think of repeated chance encounters as the best grounds for asking someone out. So you can say I’m big on serendipity.
And this is what I’ve learned: serendipity’s a bitch.
I’ve come to understand something. I’m desperate for meaning, so I’ve been looked far and yon for an epiphany – a moment of clarity of purpose, a beautiful revelation. More than once, I’ve sought for that revelation in my writing, waiting for everything to turn miraculously clear. So I would write. And when I finished, to my disappointment, there would be no new vision or resolution. It would seem that another hopeful session of writing had once again served no purpose. So I stopped writing for a long time.
I’ve been promising to myself that I would start a blog for a long time now. Actually, I set up this domain months ago. So why hadn’t I written the first post? For one, self-expectations made it too difficult to start. But mostly, it was lack of faith on the rewards of writing, and lack of clarity of purpose.
So maybe there is no revelation, no salvation in writing. Maybe there is and one day I’ll bump into it. But I’ve realized that being too worried with finding meaning in my writing has kept me from what I wanted when I first thought of starting a blog - a space for self-expression.
For all my bitching, I always find myself typing again. I haven’t found that lucid understanding of reality, but at least I’ve come to understand some of the reasons why I feel the need to sit and write this blog. I’ll write because I want to make sentences out of vague ideas, and find out what they read. I’ll write because I want to share my thoughts, and argue it all with you all.
So it's ok if there aren't any grand fortune-cookie revelations. That's cool. A little ranting will be enough for now.
This is an article about friendship and how it relates to success. The article points to a study that suggests that the number of friends a person had when he/she was young can be used as an indication to how successful the person will be in the future. It talks about levels of intimacy as well. Some experts and interviewees go on to describe in what layers of a social circle different types of friends fall, and how many populate each layer.
