Posts Tagged ‘politics

18
Feb
20

Humor, a Personal Analysis of the Concept

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A wise man once said…

Humor is a selective perspective.

[This shall be a pooling place of thoughts and/or philosophy on the concept(s) of humor.]

We laugh at what is either ridiculous or personally true within the limits of self-preservation. Some may be comfortable with self-ridicule, laughing at their own flaws and faults. Others more simply laugh at what they feel does not hurt them or give them reason to be concerned. And, yet others laugh at everything the first two branches of humanity cannot find amusing, repelling waves of tension, anxiety and fear.

Taking all of the above into account, I sort of pity those who choose comedy as a career path. Have I not seen enough movies and other shows in which jesters get “the hook” (or worse)? Have I not heard enough “starving artist” stories about comics who bemoan a hard life…after countless routines gabbing about how horrible the people in their lives are? Why does the jester get killed? Because his or her “royal audience” has a change of appetite and no longer is amused by what amused them yesterday……and the “royal audience” has a lack of mercy which compels them to dish out death instead of mild or moderate disapproval.

From personal experience, I’ve learned an audience–whether it’s an audience of one or thousands–will egg you on to talk more about whatever they deem amusing in the moment. But, eventually, the ability to amuse fades and the comic is left exposed to a sort of ill karma, retribution for turning acquaintances into enemies worth teasing.

Many love comics who get personal, who can speak of a loved one or fellow human being passed on the street in a harsh way. It’s almost a wicked sickness or trick of the mind brought upon by an evil spirit. Just as one may be encouraged to partake in a group crime like robbing a store or conning a “mark.” There’s thrill in the teamwork, but the prize–for those who haven’t lost their conscience–comes with some measure of regret, some reason to disapprove of what just happened, even if the crooks are presently caught up in the thrill of the chase.

You know the old saying…

Crime doesn’t pay.

Many criminals would laugh at this until they are sufficiently punished. Until they no longer get away with what comes easy to them, they won’t blink an eye of doubt. Crime, whether it’s emotional or financial, comes at a price. And, the price eventually impacts the criminal because the suffering of one spreads to others; and those others likely cross paths with the criminal who then experiences a shift in the success of his/her ambitions. The next “heist” may not be so profitable or the next “mark” might not fall as expected. There’s no reliability in crime, and there’s no reliability in humor.

Humor often is a crime of emotionally wounding another.

There’s a sick trend of getting more laughs from picking on your own family than current events. A comic known as Colbert presently spends most of his energy making jokes about President Trump, not about some more common experience we all might have or the general status of the world. Why? Surely, there are more things to joke about than one man with a bad spray tan and colored hair. But, he is prodded (by someone) to deliver this material every night to make his chicken feed, to fund his home and family. Tell us more lousy jokes about the fat, quasi-rich man’s physique and make fun of the way he talks, and I’ll put another coin in your hat, funny man. What a sad organ-grinder-monkey business that is. It’s no better than the child lured into the business of picking pockets.

And, with the crime of humor, when you’re not a jester being killed by your king/queen, comes the punishment of losing the audience or, worse, turning a portion of the audience into an enemy. [Unlike the pickpocket who, as long as they remain unseen, never becomes a target of personal threat.] Does a comic truly make a friend out of the victim of his or her jokes? I wonder. I may have dismissed those who made jokes about me. But, I cannot say I became good friends with the short-lived comics. And, if I made jokes about anyone, I didn’t see them wanting to remain close friends…just temporary audience members. I might as well be a bartender.

In politics, some would say televised debates don’t keep an audience’s attention if they don’t involve “mud slinging.” Just as some throw sex scenes into movies and TV shows to draw whistles and other animal sounds. It’s a form of temptation. And, temptation is rarely rewarded in a way that improves the quality of life. Temptation is equivalent to drinking alcohol; the effects are temporary and more often harmful.

Even the most self-assured can be wounded. So, why stab at them with every “zinger” you can imagine, expecting them to laugh? Pick the wrong note, and watch that smile wither and die. Why gamble with this?

Why does anyone pick comedy as a career path? Because they see no better option, like a drunkard who can only drown him or her self in intoxicating beverages until they puke their pain away, only to get a rude awakening, later. And, from recent cases I’ve observed, many comics are deeply troubled and only hiding behind a laugh. Fun for the audience who is blind to their pain. But, tragic for the comic. And, shame on the audience who ignores the troubles of the comics, who prod them for more reasons to laugh. If only we could all be amusing to lighten our own hearts and still help each other get through the difficulties life deals us, instead of buying temporary relief.

So, when you hear people say they favor a funny lover/life companion, maybe think twice about that before signing up for the position. Humor is subject to opinion/personal taste. And, humor is not eternal. It is far less eternal than love and devotion. Even a devoted comic cannot count on humor. Just as I, a devoted creative spirit cannot be expected to craft a masterpiece every time someone prods me to impress them with something from my mind, mouth and/or hands. The unseen forces of the financial world may treat us all like cattle, but we are not cows. We are humans. And, that’s not funny.

Now, I have spilled quite a load from my busy brain. I don’t know how to conclude. So, I will leave things as they lay and let readers do with my notions what they will. Discuss.

13
Dec
19

Venting Colbert Report, 12-13-2019

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That’s right. It’s called Venting Colbert Report, like the cable-TV show the suit once hosted “in character.” So, set your VCRs to “not stunned” at what I’m about to say; it’s nothing new but needs to be said.

I just want to take a little time to let off some steam about a certain late-night talk-show host who has been the silver-tongued court jester, grilling the current US president ever since the big businessman and his gorgeous (first) daughter (and the rest of the family) stepped into office.

pointout-donaldtrumpandkids_lovelyivanka-2

Colbert may have the best personality and face to show at those hours. But, he’s wasting his breath and making me ill more often than he can make me laugh.

I’m so tired of so many things in this world; my memory isn’t entirely sure…but I’m pretty sure this isn’t the first time I’ve written about him/this. I don’t even watch the show regularly, anymore. And yet, there comes a point when you hear and see enough, with family input, to make you want to scream. Rather than scream or throw things, I choose to type out my fury and need to vomit in a more “rational coping” way.

Ehem.

Disclaimer. If you have a beef with the current US president and/or are a die-hard Democrat and/or Colbert fan, do not take anything I have to say as Republican or any negative attitude/force against all that is good. If you do, you might be on the path to becoming a bully or troll…like this guy (who I am about to point at with my steely index finger and try not to make an obnoxious sound). And, some band of hobbits or other mythical folks will come along to smite you.

MEANWHILE!!!…Mr. Stephen J. Tolkien Colberenstein Bearson spins lyrics after lyrics about the big cheese and anyone who crosses paths with the guy, calling everyone names–occasionally funny names–and dancing around the stage like…well…a court jester. He’s so busy doing it, he doesn’t have time to wipe all the seemingly intellectual crap he’s spewing from his Charmin behind. Yep. You may say he has a silver tongue. But, his tongue doth only look silverish because-eth he hast spent countless years polishing it, bent over a writing desk, trying to turn ravens into wood. He has been working with other writers on other shows that try to make other people look amusing and worked his way to the front of the stage. And, unlike his late-night cohorts, who are choking on his exhaust fumes, trying to keep up, he has excelled and fed on applause like a vampire sucks your blood (or raids the ice chest of a hospital). Turn the lights down a little, and you’ll find him curled up in a corner, reading about hobbits and dwarves and ready to cast fake spells at you if you disturb him. The other guys in bad suits sweat frozen burritos and cough up last night’s dinner while Mr. Frank Lloyd Copy-n-Write Webber Grill greases the competition, leaving a flaming oil slick on the race track.

[I’d compare him to the stocky Jimmy…well, the dark-haired one…the one with a Hispanic sidekick…the one who likes to leech onto basketball games for extra air time, because they both excel at calling people names and little else. But, I’d hate for the two to team up and start dishing out wedgies at schools.]

Who was once a refreshingly smooth-talking guy, trying to best the freckled Irishman (who worked his way up from one half of a sinister geek duo to solo string-dancing superstar, Conan O’Brien, who was slighted a better broadcast slot), dazzling the crowd and featuring some nifty special-effects segments about a variety of things, insisting he was not going to be the political menace he was on non-broadcast TV, when he was “in character,” has turned the hypocritical heel and become the Burger King of hashing out politico fries. All he needs is a paper hat and a stained apron.

Colbert has beaten the dead darkhorse, broken the record and made the guy holding the starting pistol point the barrel at his own head. If he’s going to flash that Captain America shield wherever he goes, I cannot be a Captain America fan. I am struggling to be an America fan, already. He’s not helping.

Turning another light on this subject, trying a different angle, there’s a point when funny becomes badgering, when a witty remark becomes, “Hey, basketball head, want me to dribble you all the way home and tell your mommy to call you Wilson?” If you get people to laugh about the foolishness someone has done, good for your fifteen minutes in the spotlight. But, Idina Menzel, man. Let it go! You can’t be those other late-night guys trying the same jokes twice, just in case people don’t watch every night. You can’t expect me to turn off my TV for a month, come back and enjoy more of what I heard last time as if you were a newborn smartmouth waiting to be baptized into geekdom.

[Switching to interview mode…]

But, Mr. Colbert Cheese on Bleh, I know; you probably don’t write all of this stuff, yourself. You…probably have a disorganized team of writers at your side, pitching ideas, feeding you lines. You just read the cards. You’re the figurehead of…well…your own government? Hmm. Who does that sound like?…like a certain orange-faced businessman who looks like he’s in charge but also part of a three-branch government who can handle itself just fine without you turning countless American minds into computer-phone scrolling gelatin-heads who’d rather vote for you than an actual candidate or take your word for a reason to vote or not to vote. Does it matter who we vote for? Are we voting in anticipation of Mr. Late Night putting the winner on the hot seat?

[Now, back to talking-to-someone-else mode…]

Yet, I’ll still say Colbert must have a brain; he doth read a lot of imaginative works. He must have some magic in that old top hat he found. And, when he puts it on his head, he is sure to dance around. [Have you heard that song?] Perhaps, this is all a strategic move. Perhaps, getting the competition to try and follow his dance steps is Colbert’s way of staying on top. He plays the pied-piper flute, gets the other guys to chuckle nervously and sweat buckets; and, soon, he’s the only one still standing.

[And then back to interview mode…]

Bravo, Mr. Showmancer. And, yet, your British spy-apprentice doth have another magic in his pocket, where he keeps one hand to grope himself and cope with the thoughts running through his head when a “hunky” “delicious” male guest is on his show, before he mentions his wife and kids. He would seem to be a true wizard at getting people bigger contracts and other business. He turns the new turd on the street into streaming gold, when he’s not processing pot with his Showtime-Pizza-Place band (including one beautiful bass-guitar player) and partying like Dionysus. [Sadly, his smaller ragged band sounds better than yours, too. Ouch. But…you just keep staying…eh, human.] He has even seduced a lovely blonde songstress I admire into playing cat-and-cat with him.

MEANWHILE!!!…you continue wrenching those eyebrows and trying to figure out what to do with your hands every night. How is a raven like a Conan O’Brien or a running Letterman, sir? I’d ask the raven. But, he’s too busy dancing and picking on the same bloated corpse to answer.

So…I’m going to go, now, and try to wash that tripe right out of my hair, again, try to forget what got me all worked up in the first place…because…you’re not worth it. You’ve spent, what, three years now? hounding this guy and all who cross his path; I’d have a hard time looking at you when–this–is all over and not replaying your previous grilling in my mind. You go so far to tease–no, harass and harangue–the man about what’s in his pants, night after night.

Are you going to be as outspoken with the next president? Are you going to keep the political grill-train going for as long as you stand on stage? Don’t you have more to contribute? Or, are you too much of a geek to talk about it? There’s no king to send you to any number of death-dealing service providers, but that doesn’t mean you should dance and pitch the same crap every day.

Even Tolkien would be turning in his grave, mumbling, “Dude. If I had a plus-five Sword of Mercy, I’d use it to end this madness. Screw your vital roll, sir. You’ve said too much and wasted your turn. I take my ring of power and disappear from this world you’ve sullied.” [Or, that’s just what I imagine he would say if he was a DnD geek.]

Don’t be just another twit doing impersonations of a tweeter.

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You’re a wit, sir. Now, use it, properly.

09
Nov
16

The U.S.A. Must be Full of Masochists…

*****

…Because on Nov. 8, 2016, they showed fifty shades of gray. 

Who knew Americans (who voted) liked being abused verbally, sexually and any other way you care or care not to imagine.

But, why should we be surprised?  This happens every 8 (used to be 4) years.  Just when you think someone’s building something–one group says it’s good, the other says it’s bad–the tide turns, and the skyscrapers fall only to see new towers be built on the burial sites.  Talk about Poltergeist.  It’s the ghost of elections past.

36 years ago, the USA elected Ronald Reagan, an actor who some questioned for his knowledge/experience.  Chinese astrology says a lot about things happening in cycles of 12.  Could there be some pattern to all of this?

Is this the USA getting its Trump-up-Pence?

Stay tuned, cave dwellers.  Same bad time.  Same bad channel.

27
Sep
16

What a Waste

*****

It hit me yesterday as another lame presidential debate unfolded and, of all people, Donald Trump hits me over the head with the V8 bottle.  All the money wasted on slandering ads.  But, the buck doesn’t stop there.  The whole election system seems a waste of time, money and work hours.  Presently, it’s about a woman who is never going to be forgotten for being absent-minded with her use of computers and a business blowhard who is as fearless as he is foolish when it comes to public relations.  And, in the middle of the arena is a heap of currency from gamblers.  Above their heads is the “fate of Americana” if that’s not just tabloid hype.

Pull the string a little harder, and you find ties to American rights fought so hard for by the armed forces.  I have heard some people question why anyone would not vote for the next president when “our troops fight so hard for these freedoms.”

Is going to war really worth the mockery of an election process?  Is that really a favorable freedom, voting for people who are pressured into mud-slinging nonsense to rile a divided country into taking up sides built on playground behavior rampant in elementary schools?

I am reminded–for whatever reason–of someone I know who worked with a “charitable organization” and came home with some rather expensive “swag” which was spread among staff as a tax write-of–er, gratitude for services.  My family didn’t need the “swag.”  Someone else surely could make better use of the items.  Why do people who don’t need these items get them?  And, what do I anticipate most people who get this “swag” to do with it?  Well, odds are, they’ll either put it up for auction (say on eBay) or offer it to someone else with a good chance that someone else will not use it, either.  Maybe I am being pessimistic.  But, it smells more and more like the likely outcome, at least, from where I live, from my point of view.  Knowing my luck with stepping outside this point of view, I’ll go to another state or country and find much more sensible, generous and productive use of such “swag.”  And, I am sure, in some places, worse use.

In short, I guess I am just nauseous from how much time, money and resources are exhausted each day on crap that amounts to nothing.  And, in the back of my head, I hear the Foo Fighters singing that song about “reaching the prize at the end of the road” and all that “nothing” that comes before seeing one’s own “ghost.”  As I said to myself last night, I fear one day, in the distant future, some other race will look back upon humankind and sum it all up as a waste of space and resources, a species that constantly tried to assert itself as right in self-centered ways until extinction.

I’m clinging to a shred of hope that won’t be the case.

Maybe guys like Kaepernick have the right idea about not partaking in the national anthem.  But, if so, what does that say about the nation who boasts being #1.  And, what’s it going to take to remedy the situation?  Certainly, not a “bank bailout.”  Certainly, not another ridiculous election of a figurehead with two opposing teams of underlying “factory workers.”  Certainly, not a nation of people giving up on trying.  [But, I’m leaning toward falling into that last group, myself.  Which isn’t good.]  Certainly not more APP businesses that are a flash in the pan predecessor of a scary  world already seen in movies mankind made.  Certainly not more minimum wage jobs and guns in hands of desperate and foolish people.

I don’t have any grand answer.  But, I’d love to establish a decent think tank.

20
Aug
16

U.S. Politics–Zelda Style

*****

In my opinion, individually, the parties have become rather brutal mobs that clash like G.I.Joe and Cobra but accomplish very little.  One gets the chance to think it has won before the “loser” trashes what the “winner” has done.  Tons of money is wasted year after year both building the parties up for elections and then fighting over what actually gets done while the figurehead is in office.  The poor chap in the biggest chair loses his sanity and vitality before being handed the key to a library in his (or her) name.  What a system.  So much for the glory of democracy.

Now, it would seem, a PURPLE party, a nation without sides to stir violent speech and action, may be the only solution.  No parties.  No PACs.  No “super-delegates.”  [What the fark are those, anyway?  Were they exposed to nuclear waste?  Is the status determined by who has the most wealth?]

So, there you have it in Zelda cartoon form.  I’m Writingbolt and I approve this statement.

28
Sep
13

I Just Can’t Get “Stupid”

Watching people do foolish things in the same movie I’ve seen almost a half-dozen times now, I am struck with a notion about my own life and the world around me. I think of countless lives going through the same paces: lame conversations, political and religious squabbles, lousy excuses for entertaining oneself with what’s considered popular or current entertainment, pathetic pick-up lines, drunken mishaps, online dating, blind dates, arranged dates, hours upon hours of casual sex, friends with benefits, one night stands, more lame conversations injected with comparisons of body parts and intimate activities taken way too leisurely (instead of seriously), drug use and abuse, dares and contests demanding impressive results, mistaken tattoos and painful piercings, bad relationships ended in all sorts of unpleasant ways, divorce, abortion, multiple marriages, single parenthood, forsaking one’s religion/faith from any number of the previous weighing too heavily on the conscience and essentially declaring oneself a lazy “spiritual” person or atheist, alimony, child support, “pre-nups”, “post-nups”, jobs that don’t pay emotionally and financially, unpredictable insurance and retirement plans, etc. etc.

All of the above are things “most” people do as part of “the norm”. Not one of them can I commit so casually without a heap of discomfort amassing in my gut. And, upon once more realizing this boundary that separates me from “most” people, I am–yet again–discouraged from “entering the game”.

If someone explained the rules of chess to you, and you decided they were too complicated; how would you feel if everyone you saw around you was suddenly playing that very game? Imagine being the only deaf or blind person in your city, state or country, not knowing how to convey the full nature of your life experience to another living soul without fear of misunderstanding, isolation/segregation or something far worse.

How many cases in history were resolved horribly or violently/lethally from misunderstanding? Do I really want to be one of those cases simply because I don’t “go with the flow”? Can you begin to–if not already–understand how difficult it can be to wake up every day with little to no interest in doing any of those things previously listed while the rest of the world around me expects me to do just that if I want to “belong”?

I imagine myself driving a stick-shift car and not being able to downshift to that lower gear everyone else on the road around me uses to “get by”. I see them all pass me by either hastily or leisurely. And, there I sit in the middle of traffic, being honked at and unable to get my vehicle moving. I am a heartbeat away from a horrible accident. And, it has me on edge to the Nth degree. If I lose another minute, I could be dead. I need to get myself in gear and merge with traffic. Wait. I just need another–

I’m more content being of service to people as I find them and utilizing my creativity to its fullest. But, presently, that’s not filling in all the necessary boxes of a “normal” life. It’s not “financially sound” or “relationship savvy”. And, that worries me.

If you see someone stuck on the side of the road with his “blinkers” on, it’s probably me, not going anywhere. I just can’t get “stupid”.

 

[Disclaimer:  I use the word “stupid” as a substitute for mistaken and/or erroneous.  No one wants to be called stupid.  But, we all should know when we’ve made a mistake. And, I am a stubborn perfectionist.]




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