I noticed this in Target the other day...

Radiohead's cover art for Hail to the Thief (2003):


Third Day's cover art for Revelation (2008):

I assumed Third Day was some Christian band (of course they are). I think this pretty clearly speaks for itself.

So why on earth would I ever want to associate myself with groups that promote absolute rubbish like this? It makes me sick to think that kids are being brainwashed into thinking that this sort of thing is okay, that they are being guilted into a religion of censorship and segregation, of superficiality and unoriginality, of hipocrisy and falsity. Pathetic. Utterly pathetic.

A Tribute to the Cardigan Sweater

This post is simply an expression of my sartorial appreciation for a tried and true staple of my wardrobe...the cardigan.

I can only hope I am as stylish as this man when I reach his age.

Photos by Scott Schuman, aka The Sartorialist. (I have been a follower of his wonderful blog for quite some time now). Drawing by Parker A.

A Quandary

quan·da·ry [kwon-duh-ree, -dree] : a state of perplexity or uncertainty, esp. as to what to do; dilemma.

Sometimes I see our being as a circus, a quirky and complex series of efforts to build nothing on top of nothing, higher and higher, only to find it all disintegrating and self-destructing. This is an existential quandary of mine. It is taxing, it is frustrating. The clueless either never suspect a thing, or they are aware, but deliberately disengage. There arise instances throughout the day where I fail to see whether or not sincerity, humor, regret, passion, pain, happiness, etc. actually reside within the core of others. I dig past the surface conditions and attempt to place myself in the position of others, but remain perplexed, and in some cases, more so than before.

I often find it impossible to remove the filter of my own experiences, to obtain true sympathy. The world through my eyes is biased and skewed. This is a handicap. Are so many people really so empty? Does so many people’s entire existence really consist of little more than fluff? Where is the originality, the concrete personality in all of this? Perhaps none of us are truly original anymore…but that is getting into something else altogether. I digress.

I think the most interesting people and things I have encountered are the quiet and peculiar ones— those that, from the exterior, show only a hint of what boils underneath. The inside, however, exists as a whirlpool of wonderful and extraordinary things and abilities, a place where surprise lurks around the every corner. These are the real talents, the most interesting buildings, the best surprises, the coolest cars, etc. Unfortunately, I think most people and things are quite the opposite—all show with little or no compensation. What a bore.

In today’s world, it seems merit is becoming easier to fake. Admittedly, I sometimes indulge in the fluff—our tangled mess of social (and thus personal) constructs—but I have always ensured myself a way out. In constantly attempting to realize and question the larger meaning of where I am and what I am actually doing, I seem to remain grounded, or at least sustain a certain amount of self-satisfaction…for what it’s worth. Either way, it is a valuable thing to me. I only hope I can hold on to it.


Photo not by me. Drawing by Parker A.

The View

This is me at work:



This is me at my parents' house:

Le Scaphandre et le Papillon

I have watched The Diving Bell and the Butterfly twice since I rented it this past Monday. The novel just arrived in the mail yesterday. What a beautiful and inspiring movie...without being easy. Here is a rundown and some reviews just in case you are interested: http://www.metacritic.com/film/titles/divingbellandthebutterfly?q=diving%20bell%20and%20the%20butterfly

I watched the movie Monday night. My thoughts were lost in it all day at work on Tuesday. I sincerely appreciate movies that do that to me. That appreciation lingered initially, as if I needed some time afterward to fully digest how I felt about it. Shortly after, it hit me. I just wanted to do or create something, anything to translate how this movie made me feel. The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is easily one of my top movies from the past year or two (along with There Will Be Blood), and is therefore worth mentioning here.

Bravo!

(the shaving scene: one of my favorites)

P.S. It doesn’t hurt that the director, Julian Schnabel, looks like a more refined “The Dude” from The Big Lebowski:

Diagram 1: Coffee Shades Over Time

Just recently, I had noticed that the shades of my coffee have slowly evolved over time. Below is a diagram which illustrates my preferred color of coffee over the last ten years, based on different amounts of cream or milk. Sugar is negligible here.


The first couple of cups on the diagram show me getting used to the taste of coffee and the idea of a warm, bitter liquid as a leisure beverage. Most times during this period, the ratio of milk to coffee was around 3:2, respectively.

You will see that the most drastic changes occur as I enter the college years, from 2004 on. This is likely because of increased busyness and inconsistent schedules.

Keeping Up Appearances

To quote the clever lyrics of Pete Wentz: “…It’s a goddamn arms race.”…but for what reason?

Though most will scoff at the idea of someone who just seriously quoted the highly tabooed Fall Out Boy, I would argue that Mr. Wentz mentions something worth noting. We are all part of a popular society—whether we like it or not. The denial of this reality proves to be a weak and ignorant attitude. What are those in denial fighting for? A greater cause?...Probably not. Themselves?...Even so, what is the true benefit behind their motives?...Perhaps so they can prove to peers that they knew about something first (music, fashion, art, vague ideas about nothing). Or maybe it is to appear edgier or artier or than anyone around them—although creating or flaunting something purely for that reason is meaningless and has no value as an idea, and is therefore not artful at all. In fact, it begins to appear superficial and pitiful.

It is easy to appear arty and interesting (A quick trip to American Apparel (Wal-Mart), Pitchfork (MTV), and Ikea should take care of that); but after time, it just doesn’t matter. It all becomes the same, only with different faces. The real value lies within the ideas and the meaning extracted from them, which ultimately contributes to society in a more fertile way, spurring development in a larger process. I would suspect that most of the smuggest of hipsters/artists/designers/musicians/etc. are fighting for little more than appeal itself, which is a cheap one-liner.


I believe that this idea of intent and meaning relates to everything we do and conceive of as people, but it becomes especially valuable within the design field. As an architecture student, this idea of meaning has been drilled into my brain again and again, but has just recently made the most sense to me. To me, a truly artful thing or idea crawls inside of one’s thoughts and dwells, inevitably affecting future thoughts and actions. In that way, the original thing becomes influential outside of itself…and therefore meaningful. Only through trial and error in creating things have I realized (and continue to realize) the importance of pushing limits and the worthlessness of complacency, both in terms of existing notions and one’s own innovative abilities. Eventually, the bullshit becomes easy to see through. So…in short: what really makes you so special?...No, really.

Be original, people. Be bold. But more importantly, mean it.