Beginning

Beginning

Thus begins the foray into online blogging. Normally I hate blogs and the work they involve considering that so many are poorly designed and do nothing but tell me what video that person watched today on YouTube.

So, here I am contributing my less than ten cents to an already opinion-loaded internet. Here’s to hoping I have something important to say. 

Nostalgia

Nostalgia  

 It always comes on me unexpectedly. A scent in the air, the proper caress of a breeze, or a sharp taste in my mouth. It’s never something I see or hear. Biologically some of our most vivid memories are locked in those senses we neglect. That’s how I’m always surprised when that wave of nostalgia hits me.

   For Greece it’s the supple gust of wind mixed with the smell of salt, cooked meat, and petrol as well as the flavors of rosemary on flour-y pita bread. The port is there with it’s numerous ferries lounging on clear blue water mixed with leftover gasoline. Cafes and restaurants line the seaside strip for tourists to wait in. They munch on kebabs made of roasted lamb, onions, zatziki sauce, and lettuce. They pick apart honey baked scones built out of wafer-thin pastry crust. The air is heady with gas fumes and sea salt that create a tinge in the nostrils. A constant stream of chatter provides a backdrop to the music of a nearby cafe. Some europop song.

   For Israel it’s a blast of heat carrying pungent cigarette smoke and slowly roasting chicken slathered in tahini. The white sand stretches on in all directions bouncing the heat around. A single tent that offers shade is packed full of tourists. A guide simultaneously smokes a cigarette and drones on about the grave historical importance of the site - to christians. The chicken fat pops and sizzles on a nearby grill. A local, dressed in white robes with a red-and-white-checkered head scarf cooks away hoping to make a few shekels off the tourists. The heat scours my face.

   As I am on my way to class it all comes back to me. The climb to Masada, driving up the Santorini path, swimming in Mykonos, and wandering Tel Aviv….
I smell these odors, taste these flavors, feel those sensations, and instantly I’m transported back to those places. I’ve tried to provoke these moments but they are rare and elusive. No, these memories come on their on whim. I don’t mind. When they come I am outside of my own context. No time. No place. I simply, escape.

The Principle of Least Interest

The Principle of Least Interest

"The person who cares the least in the relationship dictates the terms of the relationship."
 - Tom Pappas

It’s a basic principle when you really think about it, and yet it’s application is so numerous that one’s grasp of this law can improve one’s life dramatically when used properly. 

You see, basically what the law says is this: The person who cares less in the relationship wears the pants, calls the shots, makes the calls, etc. It sounds demeaning at first, but there’s nothing wrong with it! In fact, it has helped me to understand my past relationships so much more that I know what to look for now in a relationship. Let me break it down a bit.

Part 1: The Person who cares the least - 
        This will happen. I don’t doubt it. Whether you’re a bright-eyed, optimist who believes that the best relationships require equal attraction from both parties or you’re a cynic who doesn’t believe in relationships (I can safely say I’ve been on both sides of the spectrum) this will always happen. One person in the relationship is less attracted to their partner than the other person. Nothing wrong with that. Maybe there’s a disconnect between your way of thinking and theirs. Maybe you disagree with some of their opinions and it’s turning you off. Maybe you’re a shallow idiot who thinks your respective other is not as hot as before. Whatever the case, it happens. Maybe you’re the one who’s more invested. Nothing wrong with that. Relationships are two-sided and as long as both of you are working together then I think it’s safe to say fluctuating attraction is nothing to worry about.

Part 2: Dictates the terms in the relationship.
            ^ The great quandary of all relationships and often the source of friction. Both parties often want to be in control of the relationship. “Control” is probably one of the worse things to assume a relationship has. (My psych professor once said: On a good day the only thing we have control of is our ability to eat, sleep, and poop. I believe her.) Now many of you might recognize when you’ve been in a relationship and you’ve been following orders, but it’s okay because you’re head over heels for them! You might also have recognized when your mate would do anything you asked of them. Fair enough.
         What I’m talking about is the idea that relationships have a definable set of boundaries. The person who cares the least often sets the boundaries and it’s up to the other not to mess with them. Boundaries are a good thing. It lets you establish a relationship that doesn’t consume your life and make you a different person entirely. They’re good to have. It can be something to work toward to slowly overcome each boundary. The fact that someone (maybe not you) is calling the shots in your relationship shouldn’t scare or surprise you. You’re in a relationship with them for a reason! And (unless things are seriously out of wack) it’s good to listen to them. Just remember that it’s a two sided conversation and you don’t have to do everything they ask.

Are you still with me? Considering I dished out more relationship advice and opinions than are good for me I have two disclaimers:

1. Not everything I say is communicated properly and I will probably say some really stupid stuff you disagree with. Totally okay with that. I love a good conversation so don’t be afraid to challenge my post. I only ask that you do so in an appropriate manner. Just because we’re on the interwebz doesn’t mean derogatory language is okay.

2. Recently I’ve found myself in a position of not being interested in relationships at all. It’s given me the ability to walk away from a potential relationship altogether and still be happy. I use this Principle as a benchmark for what’s important to me. If you find yourself striking out cause you’re playing hard to get understand: If you truly didn’t care then it wouldn’t matter.

Now that I’ve thoroughly confused all of you and possibly justified masochists the world over I hope all readers have a good day!

Digital Prehistory of a Human Being

D1g1tal Preh1st0ry 0f a Human Be1ng

Archaeology in the 1960’s very curiously underwent a major paradigmatic shift. Instead of focusing specifically on how societies functioned in the past the new focus shifted to how those past societies relate to their modern day ancestors. How did the material remains of some ancient tribe influence the now disillusioned inheritors of their genealogy? From this example I began to ask myself some of these similar questions.

When someone wants to know what you were like how will they find the material remains to study you? How will our grandchildren and great-grandchildren come to understand those of us who live now? The answer, as we are so fond of being reminded, is in “The Cloud.” Our digital archive. The floating electronic monolith that looms over all of us will now be the first place archaeologists start digging.

Amazon transactions. Tumblr photos. Tweets. Google+ email accounts. Downloaded MP3s. YouTube videos watched. Google Searches. Browser histories. The porn you watched when you were going through a phase. That library of music you left behind. Maybe you kept all your school assignments on an online storage site. Let’s not forget the Facebook, Myspace, and Xanga pages you constantly updated on your Safari, Firefox, or Google Chrome browser. After they’d combed through all those crumbs of information maybe then they’d check your physical remains.

Imagine: our whole lives, on one resource. It seems such a simple answer. If any one computer should fail there is always another to take it’s place.

Is it enough? If a picture captures a thousand words then surely one thousand profile pictures guarantees one million words. All of your private conversations can be tracked. All of your ramblings, complaints, political alliances can be recorded. I have, for a long time, desired to create a biography about someone of no historical significance and recreate their lives by investigating their internet ghost-self.

Perhaps this ghost is more elusive than we believe. Like Hamlet I question if what I saw was real. Can you truly understand a person with those digital imprints? While I ponder the ability of true empathy I can ultimately agree digital media might be the most insincere form of public-self. Who picks the pictures that go online? Who writes the statuses that ten people like? Who publishes what music they’re listening to at the moment? We do.

Social Media is a platform designed to improve first impressions and overall create a slightly distorted self. It’s our chance for new people to see us in a way we want to be seen. The rate at which these media are adapting and changing are indicative of how much a person cares what initial impressions they create.

An Open Letter to Film Snobs

To my fellow film lovers,

Given that we are now entering the time of the year when big budget independent dramas surface to be contenders for those coveted Academy Awards I must apologize. I apologize in advance. I confess: I will not see every single nominee for the best picture category before the ceremony. I apologize, in fact, that I have never done so previously. Given that my own mother has been more successful in her viewing record than I have I am ashamed.

I apologize for my Oscar prediction lists. I have never been more than forty three percent right about my predictions. I apologize that I saw The King’s Speech instead of the Social Network and still expected Social Network to win. I apologize I didn’t see Her and that I didn’t recognize the progressiveness of Frozen right off the bat. You see, I suffer from a dark malady that I’m afraid will never be cured: simple taste.

My curse has fostered an unhealthy passion for those villainous blockbusters you so despise. The junk food of cinema, I once heard it called. That’s right, I am the one who loved Iron Man 3. I enjoyed the first Transformers and lined up to buy the DVD collection. I even paid to see Guardians of the Galaxy in theaters twice! I suffer from consistent fascination with fiery explosions, buxom women, and harrowing gunfights. For me the world cannot be saved enough times.

I tried to shake off this evil plague, I really did! I watched a Lars Von Trier Film (I can’t remember which one.) I partnered Enter the Void with Waking Life in a double feature. I sipped wine whilst viewing The Artist and explored ideas of masculinity and greed in There Will Be Blood. I event went so far as to claim I liked Rian Johnson before he did Looper and got hired to direct the next Star Wars film.

Try as I might I can’t escape my condition. I am sad to say I am excited for Fast and the Furious Seven (requiem en pace Paul Walker) and the next Avengers movie. I always say I have had enough of this or that franchise, but return with my money in my hands and my dignity missing. I often catch myself daydreaming of working on a film that big and I think: “oh how I am doomed!”

There is good news though: things are changing. With the advent of streaming services like Netflix, HuluPlus, and HBOGo much more is offered to the commoners of film watching. We can screen Oldboy at our homes or puzzle over Only God Forgives while we wait in an airport. The same can be said of television. Soon, everyone can enjoy that status of exclusivity that you all share. Soon we can all discuss politics in House of Cards (the original one not the American remake) or chauvinism in True Detective. Soon, we will all be fellow film lovers together.

Do not despair I ask. I suffer from the same disease millions of people in America do and I am slowly being cured. If I can sit through 2001: A Space Odyssey and enjoy the middle third of it then others can too. Just think of all the Inception arguments you can have or the Hitchcock statistics quoting you can do when we join your ranks.

I look forward to the day when pure enjoyment is stripped from movies and intellectualism becomes our drive for watching. I cannot wait to put away my DVD copy of Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby and add the criterion collection of Yasujiro Ozu. Even now I am anxiously holding my breath for the Blu-Ray release of Apocalypse Now: Redux. These things keep me up at night.

I know never seeing a single Truffaut or Godard film makes me contemptible, but bear with me. Speaking on behalf of those lesser-knowledged filmgoers (and still a large majority of the film watching crowd) you will have to suffer these filmic trends before “good taste” can arise. This process may take awhile (as long as pop culture is alive) so you will have to be patient. Until then you have my sincerest apologies.

Sincerely,

Daniel Pappas

P.S. I still don’t get the ending to 2001 perhaps you can enlighten me?

Reconnoiter

Reconnoiter

Reconnoiter. 

The first time I read that word was in Brian Jacques’ Redwall. Two talking mice carrying steel swords, and wearing battle armor are going to reconnoiter the area ahead for any evil cats. I stopped immediately and read the sentence again. I read the paragraph again. I read the page again. I read it out loud. I sound it out.

Reh-kon-noy-tuhr

Well, it’s close to reconnoissance so it must mean the same thing. After semi-sucessfully divining the words meaning I moved on. Despite flipping through one hundred more pages that day the word stuck in my head. Nobody uses that word. Nobody says the word ‘reconnoiter.’

I kept my eyes open for months afterwards to hear those syllables in some cartoon show or another. In hindsight that was a bit foolish given that the vocabulary of saturday morning cartoons extended to ‘victory’, ‘defeat’, and exultant ‘yeah!’s. Not once did I hear it. The word continued to confound me.

It’s a verb. Does it have a noun form? Reconnoissance? Is that correct? In tv shows people just say ‘recon.’ Recon was the word used in all the video game titles I saw at Best Buy. How does one reconnoiter? I imagined stealthy G.I. Joes tip-toeing like the Scooby Doo gang outside some enemy base. Is it altogether different from surveillance? What makes the word so unique?. It’s french. Why use this word? Most importantly: Why does the word reconnoiter sound so weird to say outloud?

Reconnoiter.