Friday, December 18, 2009
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Here She Comes Now
I could spend forever with her, and it would feel like it wasn’t enough time. I could do everything to empower her, and I feel like it would be me who would benefit. I could carry her on my shoulders and it would feel as if I were the one flying high.
She talks slowly and calmly with people that don’t understand her all the time, and it’s amazing. She tilts her head a bit to the left and bites her lower lip when she’s pondering solutions, and it’s amazing. She lets her eyes close halfway the moment she feels the spark of an idea, and it’s amazing.
She is amazing. Everything about her is amazing. The world is an amazing place to be because she is in it. I want her to know of her powers of enchantment.
I see her nearly every day. I communicate with her every single day. I see her and she sees me. And I wonder if she even remotely feels about me how I feel about her.
I can never know what is happening in her mind. I can guess. I can speculate. I can imagine and I can hypothesize and I can hope. But I cannot and will not ever know exactly one hundred percent what she’s thinking or how she feels about me.
Some people, actually most people would believe that that is a problem, yet that’s not a problem for me. In fact, it’s far from it. The real problem, the only problem for me is that she doesn’t yet know how I feel about her. I mean, how could she know?
So I have to tell her.
Good.
Here she comes now
She talks slowly and calmly with people that don’t understand her all the time, and it’s amazing. She tilts her head a bit to the left and bites her lower lip when she’s pondering solutions, and it’s amazing. She lets her eyes close halfway the moment she feels the spark of an idea, and it’s amazing.
She is amazing. Everything about her is amazing. The world is an amazing place to be because she is in it. I want her to know of her powers of enchantment.
I see her nearly every day. I communicate with her every single day. I see her and she sees me. And I wonder if she even remotely feels about me how I feel about her.
I can never know what is happening in her mind. I can guess. I can speculate. I can imagine and I can hypothesize and I can hope. But I cannot and will not ever know exactly one hundred percent what she’s thinking or how she feels about me.
Some people, actually most people would believe that that is a problem, yet that’s not a problem for me. In fact, it’s far from it. The real problem, the only problem for me is that she doesn’t yet know how I feel about her. I mean, how could she know?
So I have to tell her.
Good.
Here she comes now
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
My Favorite Words
(sung to the tune of My Favorite Things)
Blockheads and boneheads and dimwits and dipshits,
Dumbbells, imbeciles and ninnies and nitwits
Birdbrains and dipsticks, idiots and twerps…
These are a few of my favorite words!
Dopes, dunces, dunderheads, turkeys and fatheads
Lamebrains and lightweights, morons and muttonheads,
Pinheads and jackasses, numbskulls and jerks…
These are a few of my favorite words!!
Assholes and asshats and dimbulbs and dumbshits,
Ignorant suckers, hardheads and halfwits,
Simpletons, shitheads, nincompoops nerds…
These are a few of my favorite words!!!
When they’re beyond hope,
When they’re all turds,
When I’m getting mad…
I simply start saying my favorite words
And then I don’t feel so bad.
Blockheads and boneheads and dimwits and dipshits,
Dumbbells, imbeciles and ninnies and nitwits
Birdbrains and dipsticks, idiots and twerps…
These are a few of my favorite words!
Dopes, dunces, dunderheads, turkeys and fatheads
Lamebrains and lightweights, morons and muttonheads,
Pinheads and jackasses, numbskulls and jerks…
These are a few of my favorite words!!
Assholes and asshats and dimbulbs and dumbshits,
Ignorant suckers, hardheads and halfwits,
Simpletons, shitheads, nincompoops nerds…
These are a few of my favorite words!!!
When they’re beyond hope,
When they’re all turds,
When I’m getting mad…
I simply start saying my favorite words
And then I don’t feel so bad.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Which fools? Those fools?
What a fool cannot learn he laughs at, thinking that by his laughter he shows superiority instead of latent idiocy.
I've noticed a lot lately... seems like more and more... that when I ask someone something, and they don't know the answer to my question, they'll act like what I want to know can't be that important, or is very trivial, or that I'm stupid for even wanting to know. The reason I've noticed this lately, is that there are some people who will go as far to mock me immediately after I ask the question.
"What the hell do you want to know that for?"
"How the hell am I supposed to know something like THAT?"
"That's not important."
"Tch. You must be joking."
Hey, dipshit. Let me assure you that I'm not joking. It seems my only real mistake has been expecting an idiot like you to have any real knowledge about anything at all. I should have known better, and I know better now. So thank you very mucho. Now fuck off.
This actually reminds me to make a couple of adjustments to a couple of hard-learned lessons:
Lesson #1. Be nice to all little things, regardless of their level of idiocy.
Lesson #2. Keep your distance from living things that are meaner than you. That now includes me.
I've noticed a lot lately... seems like more and more... that when I ask someone something, and they don't know the answer to my question, they'll act like what I want to know can't be that important, or is very trivial, or that I'm stupid for even wanting to know. The reason I've noticed this lately, is that there are some people who will go as far to mock me immediately after I ask the question.
"What the hell do you want to know that for?"
"How the hell am I supposed to know something like THAT?"
"That's not important."
"Tch. You must be joking."
Hey, dipshit. Let me assure you that I'm not joking. It seems my only real mistake has been expecting an idiot like you to have any real knowledge about anything at all. I should have known better, and I know better now. So thank you very mucho. Now fuck off.
This actually reminds me to make a couple of adjustments to a couple of hard-learned lessons:
Lesson #1. Be nice to all little things, regardless of their level of idiocy.
Lesson #2. Keep your distance from living things that are meaner than you. That now includes me.
Dan Bong
Dan Bong (short stick)
The Dan Bong measures from the user’s elbow to anywhere between the wrist and where the pinky finger connects to the hand. Any longer, speed and flexibility is lost, any shorter and reach is lost. The Dan Bong is best made out of lacquered bamboo with a diameter of about one inch. It has a hole drilled through it about 2-3 knuckles from the end to allow for a cord loop. The loop’s length is just long enough to allow the Dan Bong to be passed over the thumb, then over the back of the hand, then into the hand proper, leaving the butt end of the Dan Bong protruding from the base of the hand.
Although short and consequently unimpressive, the Dan Bong is a complete defensive and offensive system. One Dan Bong can break a bone, poke a hole in a liver, temple, thorax, or solar plexus. It can be used for leverage on wrists, elbows, and shoulders, and for strikes straight end and butt end on pressure points. One will tangle up a pair of nunchakus, and two can successfully stop a long or medium stick. I believe a lot of its power is due to its perceived impotence, so do not underestimate this little bastard. It the right hands, it will crack your coconut wide open.
The Dan Bong measures from the user’s elbow to anywhere between the wrist and where the pinky finger connects to the hand. Any longer, speed and flexibility is lost, any shorter and reach is lost. The Dan Bong is best made out of lacquered bamboo with a diameter of about one inch. It has a hole drilled through it about 2-3 knuckles from the end to allow for a cord loop. The loop’s length is just long enough to allow the Dan Bong to be passed over the thumb, then over the back of the hand, then into the hand proper, leaving the butt end of the Dan Bong protruding from the base of the hand.
Although short and consequently unimpressive, the Dan Bong is a complete defensive and offensive system. One Dan Bong can break a bone, poke a hole in a liver, temple, thorax, or solar plexus. It can be used for leverage on wrists, elbows, and shoulders, and for strikes straight end and butt end on pressure points. One will tangle up a pair of nunchakus, and two can successfully stop a long or medium stick. I believe a lot of its power is due to its perceived impotence, so do not underestimate this little bastard. It the right hands, it will crack your coconut wide open.
Just Curious...
The local open market that I enjoy and frequent is in Sunday down in the big market district. I go when I can or when it's time to get more fruit and vegetables.
One of the stands there displays cantaloupe and honeydew melons and they're huge and juicy and fresh and very inexpensive. The girls that work there selling the melons are built like brick outhouses, and, from what I can perceive, pretty much the same in all other regards.
Every time I visit the stand, (which is always), I can't help but thinking, "Nice melons," and I always wonder exactly how that translates into Spanish.
One of the stands there displays cantaloupe and honeydew melons and they're huge and juicy and fresh and very inexpensive. The girls that work there selling the melons are built like brick outhouses, and, from what I can perceive, pretty much the same in all other regards.
Every time I visit the stand, (which is always), I can't help but thinking, "Nice melons," and I always wonder exactly how that translates into Spanish.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Two Rules
There are only two rules in life. They have to do with behavior and emotional response. Follow these rules and your life will be easy and peaceful.
They are simple rules. They are clearly written. And that makes them very easy to read and understand. However, despite their simplicity, they are sometimes difficult to learn.
So I'll try to explain them as best I can.
Rule #1. Do be nice to all living things, especially small things. Being nice to small things is a defining point of our character. How we treat living things that cannot defend themselves reflects our emotional adjustment as human beings. We speak of the very core of living values. Are we kind? Are we just? Are we fair? Are we generous? Do we have honor? Always being able to answer "yes" to these questions is life's main lesson. That's why it's Rule #1.
Rule #2. DO NOT tease, provoke, bait, bedevil, bug, bother, torment, or otherwise molest tigers, bears, lions, crocodiles, or any other living animal that is bigger, stronger, meaner, or more ferocious than a human being. We mere humans share the top of the food chain with the great sharp-toothed, sharp-clawed animals of this earth only because we are smarter than them. We keep our distance from fangs and talons, and we do our hunting at Walmart. As soon as we forget this, AS SOON AS WE LOSE OUR INTELLECTUAL ADVANTAGE OVER THEM, they have all rights to, and will seriously remind us of our ignorance and stupidity, our weaknesses, our mortality, and very often, our tastiness.
Actually, rule #2 is harder to learn because most people are not actually smarter than the great beasts. They tease them and taunt them and get too near them, thinking they're on TV playing with Hobbes the Tiger, or Yogi the Bear. Alas, this is assuredly not the case.
So that's it. Just two rules. Choose to follow them, and life will be long and rewarding. Choose not to, and you're lunch.
They are simple rules. They are clearly written. And that makes them very easy to read and understand. However, despite their simplicity, they are sometimes difficult to learn.
So I'll try to explain them as best I can.
Rule #1. Do be nice to all living things, especially small things. Being nice to small things is a defining point of our character. How we treat living things that cannot defend themselves reflects our emotional adjustment as human beings. We speak of the very core of living values. Are we kind? Are we just? Are we fair? Are we generous? Do we have honor? Always being able to answer "yes" to these questions is life's main lesson. That's why it's Rule #1.
Rule #2. DO NOT tease, provoke, bait, bedevil, bug, bother, torment, or otherwise molest tigers, bears, lions, crocodiles, or any other living animal that is bigger, stronger, meaner, or more ferocious than a human being. We mere humans share the top of the food chain with the great sharp-toothed, sharp-clawed animals of this earth only because we are smarter than them. We keep our distance from fangs and talons, and we do our hunting at Walmart. As soon as we forget this, AS SOON AS WE LOSE OUR INTELLECTUAL ADVANTAGE OVER THEM, they have all rights to, and will seriously remind us of our ignorance and stupidity, our weaknesses, our mortality, and very often, our tastiness.
Actually, rule #2 is harder to learn because most people are not actually smarter than the great beasts. They tease them and taunt them and get too near them, thinking they're on TV playing with Hobbes the Tiger, or Yogi the Bear. Alas, this is assuredly not the case.
So that's it. Just two rules. Choose to follow them, and life will be long and rewarding. Choose not to, and you're lunch.
Hoi Joon Moo Sool
"Do" roughly means martial art. "Ki" means energy, namely the energy of a living thing. (The Chinese call it "Chi.") "Hap" means union. So all three together, Hapkido means the union between living energy and the art of fighting.
Hoi Joon Moo Sool is a style of Hapkido. It's main move is called Hoi Joon Kong Po.
The right shoulder, (the first shoulder) is forward, and the left foot is back. First hand is forward and up. The first motion is made with a downward swinging arc, using the knife edge of the hand against a kick or a knee, or as a forward swing, striking the side of opponent’s right side of the head. The second hand coming straight from the belt, swings out straight-armed using the top of the wrist to strike opponent’s right side mandible or temple. Both arms are now swinging in the same direction.
Because both arms move in the same direction, enough inertia is created for the body to spin full-circle. The forward hand completes its arcing strike and ends pointing straight to the sky, and the back foot takes one step forward and the body spins full-circle on the forward arm and rear foot’s axis. The rear hand, after striking, bends at the elbow to protect the face and head.
To complete the full spin, the forward hand comes down from its position as the body’s axis to the level of the opponents head, and becomes a hammer to strike the opponent's right side of the head, while the rear hand remains in position blocking the face and head.
This move should be practiced with both clockwise and counterclockwise spins, right hand leading the clockwise spin, left hand leading the other. It should also be done as quickly as possible, aiming to complete the full spin in less than half a second. It should also be done at close quarters, advancing only about 1 meter’s length.
As such, the opponent can be pushed back 1 or 2 meters while three very hard strikes are effectively delivered in less than a second to vital points on the right side of opponent’s head.
This is the whirlpool. This is the hurricane, the tornado. This is Hoi Joon Moo Sool, the martial art of the maelstrom.
Hoi Joon Moo Sool is a style of Hapkido. It's main move is called Hoi Joon Kong Po.
The right shoulder, (the first shoulder) is forward, and the left foot is back. First hand is forward and up. The first motion is made with a downward swinging arc, using the knife edge of the hand against a kick or a knee, or as a forward swing, striking the side of opponent’s right side of the head. The second hand coming straight from the belt, swings out straight-armed using the top of the wrist to strike opponent’s right side mandible or temple. Both arms are now swinging in the same direction.
Because both arms move in the same direction, enough inertia is created for the body to spin full-circle. The forward hand completes its arcing strike and ends pointing straight to the sky, and the back foot takes one step forward and the body spins full-circle on the forward arm and rear foot’s axis. The rear hand, after striking, bends at the elbow to protect the face and head.
To complete the full spin, the forward hand comes down from its position as the body’s axis to the level of the opponents head, and becomes a hammer to strike the opponent's right side of the head, while the rear hand remains in position blocking the face and head.
This move should be practiced with both clockwise and counterclockwise spins, right hand leading the clockwise spin, left hand leading the other. It should also be done as quickly as possible, aiming to complete the full spin in less than half a second. It should also be done at close quarters, advancing only about 1 meter’s length.
As such, the opponent can be pushed back 1 or 2 meters while three very hard strikes are effectively delivered in less than a second to vital points on the right side of opponent’s head.
This is the whirlpool. This is the hurricane, the tornado. This is Hoi Joon Moo Sool, the martial art of the maelstrom.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
weeds
Ooops. That ain't weeds.
That's a rat I snapped that was eating MY bananas in MY kitchen.
Freak not. It was quick and painless.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Base Twelve
Know well the enemy.
Bide time.
Make a plan.
Work alone.
Leave no trace.
Follow no pattern.
Act from out-of-town.
Do business once.
Pay cash.
Never return.
Never admit.
Never apologize.
Bide time.
Make a plan.
Work alone.
Leave no trace.
Follow no pattern.
Act from out-of-town.
Do business once.
Pay cash.
Never return.
Never admit.
Never apologize.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Strider
All that is gold does not glitter.
Not all those who wander are lost.
The old that is strong does not wither.
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken.
A light from the shadow shall spring.
Renewed the blade that was broken.
The crownless again shall be king.
Not all those who wander are lost.
The old that is strong does not wither.
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken.
A light from the shadow shall spring.
Renewed the blade that was broken.
The crownless again shall be king.
Friday, September 25, 2009
The Call of the Black Knight
Falling, slipping into the ink.
Fingers gripping...top of the wall.
Feet floorless into the black.
Three more... that's all.
Darkness calling, teasing me down.
Can't just easily fall.
Tastes so sweet... promising love.
Hold me, never let me go.
Rotting flesh, falling bricks,
Skulls and Walls broken to dust.
Electric spines freed from their binds.
Poisons... far and above.
The Black Knight calls me
Into the Darkness. I am him.
I go.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Real, or False?
False friends call your parents “Mr.” and “Mrs.”
Real friends call your parents “Mom” and “Dad.”
False friends ring the doorbell to your house/apartment.
Real friends enter by themselves and go right to the kitchen and open your refrigerator.
False friends never ask for food.
Real friends are the reason you never have food in your refrigerator.
False friends borrow things from you and return them promptly.
Real friends keep your things so long that they forget that they’re yours.
False friends know only a few things about you.
Real friends could write a couple of books just on the things you always say.
False friends will meet you at home if you get separated in a crowd.
Real friends will climb onto a stranger’s shoulders so they can find you.
False friends never seem to cry.
Real friends cry with you.
False friends talk trash about people who talk trash about you.
Real friends kick their asses up and down the street.
False friends know you feel bad when they see you cry.
Real friends know this before you say anything. And if you died today, you’d have to excuse them for not attending your funeral, because they would be in jail for kicking ass up and down the street on the person who made you feel bad enough to cry.
False friends are here for a little while.
Real friends are here for the rest of our lives.
Real friends call your parents “Mom” and “Dad.”
False friends ring the doorbell to your house/apartment.
Real friends enter by themselves and go right to the kitchen and open your refrigerator.
False friends never ask for food.
Real friends are the reason you never have food in your refrigerator.
False friends borrow things from you and return them promptly.
Real friends keep your things so long that they forget that they’re yours.
False friends know only a few things about you.
Real friends could write a couple of books just on the things you always say.
False friends will meet you at home if you get separated in a crowd.
Real friends will climb onto a stranger’s shoulders so they can find you.
False friends never seem to cry.
Real friends cry with you.
False friends talk trash about people who talk trash about you.
Real friends kick their asses up and down the street.
False friends know you feel bad when they see you cry.
Real friends know this before you say anything. And if you died today, you’d have to excuse them for not attending your funeral, because they would be in jail for kicking ass up and down the street on the person who made you feel bad enough to cry.
False friends are here for a little while.
Real friends are here for the rest of our lives.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Ooops
Here you are. Enjoy.
What's this?
That's your food. You asked me to bring you some.
Did we run out? Do we still have more?
Ummm... yes, we do.
Why did you bring me so little?
Oh, you want more than that?
Yes, I do! Why did you bring me so little?
Because you're on a diet.
I'm not on a diet!
No? I thought you were.
Did I tell you I was on a diet?
No, I just figured you were.
What makes you think I'm on a diet?
Well, you always go on a diet when you get that big.
WHAT?
(Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!)
What's this?
That's your food. You asked me to bring you some.
Did we run out? Do we still have more?
Ummm... yes, we do.
Why did you bring me so little?
Oh, you want more than that?
Yes, I do! Why did you bring me so little?
Because you're on a diet.
I'm not on a diet!
No? I thought you were.
Did I tell you I was on a diet?
No, I just figured you were.
What makes you think I'm on a diet?
Well, you always go on a diet when you get that big.
WHAT?
(Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!)
Sunday, August 23, 2009
... on the Return of a Card...pt. 2
I'm curious... what do you actually do in your pick-a-card effect in order to convey the thematic aims talked about in your initial post?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A man named Michael Kamen answered this first question better than I can. My perception of the interaction between conjurer and participant works more like sense and memory rather than memory acting to ensure I stay on track. My patter aims to reinforce individuality and trust without outright pointing to them, so a lot of times it's "touch and go" and "strike while the iron is hot." Sometimes I'll gently cue the idea if I sense we're getting off track. It feels like dangling a spoon lure in front of a bass, fingers crossed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
How do you make sure it is interpreted in a way that is consistent with your artistic aims?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is a lot touchier. I get the feeling it's a lot like asking how I make sure my kids grow up to be productive members of society. How does a parent make sure that the kids grow up to be ok? Answer is: We do the best we can with what we've got. We teach basics (read: skills), we reinforce them, and then WE LET THE LITTLE CRUMB SNATCHERS GO out into the world on their own. And then we watch them. If they stay out of jail, we've done our job. If they don't, then we're stuck with the problem.
In different terms, the same thing applies here. Throughout the selection and return process, I lay the foundation for our relationship, and then reinforce it as the needs arise. I keep the game on track. The best way I can tell if I've succeeded is by watching them after the trick. I offer them their card for keeps, and if they keep it, I've done my job. If not, then I'm stuck with the problem and I need to figure out why they didn't want to keep the card.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
How do you construct your procedures?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm not sure how you use the word "procedure", so I'll take it trick by trick, then towards routines. Trick by trick, I construct towards the elimination of sleights. I avoid force against force. I prefer simplified approaches over complicated ones. I avoid distractions and anything that makes me have to pay more attention to handling. And I don't do multi-phase routines, such as Ambitious Card, as a pick-a-card trick. In this case, the participant shuffles, and when they're done, the card sitting on top of the deck is the best one to use. Ambitious Card is not a pick-a-card trick for me.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
How do you choose your effects?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This takes a long time for me. I really just have to feel the effect. Something or another about it will resonate with me, and I'll ask myself if there is magic in it, and if so, what exactly is its Magical Nature? (That step takes the longest.) If I can figure out what that magic is, then I decide if that's what I should be doing, based on a lot of things. Then I put it to the test to see if my analysis was right. It's lengthy, it's time-consuming, and it's dull and dreary for anybody that just wants to do tricks. I don't do this stuff for a living, so I have the time to think and test.
This think-out on the return of a card is the result of this process. What exactly is the magic of finding a selected card lost in a shuffled deck? Is it chance? Is it manipulation? Or is there some hidden connection between the magician and the spectator that the magician controls?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A man named Michael Kamen answered this first question better than I can. My perception of the interaction between conjurer and participant works more like sense and memory rather than memory acting to ensure I stay on track. My patter aims to reinforce individuality and trust without outright pointing to them, so a lot of times it's "touch and go" and "strike while the iron is hot." Sometimes I'll gently cue the idea if I sense we're getting off track. It feels like dangling a spoon lure in front of a bass, fingers crossed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
How do you make sure it is interpreted in a way that is consistent with your artistic aims?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is a lot touchier. I get the feeling it's a lot like asking how I make sure my kids grow up to be productive members of society. How does a parent make sure that the kids grow up to be ok? Answer is: We do the best we can with what we've got. We teach basics (read: skills), we reinforce them, and then WE LET THE LITTLE CRUMB SNATCHERS GO out into the world on their own. And then we watch them. If they stay out of jail, we've done our job. If they don't, then we're stuck with the problem.
In different terms, the same thing applies here. Throughout the selection and return process, I lay the foundation for our relationship, and then reinforce it as the needs arise. I keep the game on track. The best way I can tell if I've succeeded is by watching them after the trick. I offer them their card for keeps, and if they keep it, I've done my job. If not, then I'm stuck with the problem and I need to figure out why they didn't want to keep the card.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
How do you construct your procedures?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm not sure how you use the word "procedure", so I'll take it trick by trick, then towards routines. Trick by trick, I construct towards the elimination of sleights. I avoid force against force. I prefer simplified approaches over complicated ones. I avoid distractions and anything that makes me have to pay more attention to handling. And I don't do multi-phase routines, such as Ambitious Card, as a pick-a-card trick. In this case, the participant shuffles, and when they're done, the card sitting on top of the deck is the best one to use. Ambitious Card is not a pick-a-card trick for me.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
How do you choose your effects?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This takes a long time for me. I really just have to feel the effect. Something or another about it will resonate with me, and I'll ask myself if there is magic in it, and if so, what exactly is its Magical Nature? (That step takes the longest.) If I can figure out what that magic is, then I decide if that's what I should be doing, based on a lot of things. Then I put it to the test to see if my analysis was right. It's lengthy, it's time-consuming, and it's dull and dreary for anybody that just wants to do tricks. I don't do this stuff for a living, so I have the time to think and test.
This think-out on the return of a card is the result of this process. What exactly is the magic of finding a selected card lost in a shuffled deck? Is it chance? Is it manipulation? Or is there some hidden connection between the magician and the spectator that the magician controls?
Friday, August 14, 2009
Notes on the Return of a Card
Notes on the Return of a Card…
The ubiquitous effect of having one card chosen by an eyewitness, so it can be identified as different and singular from many others, then returning it to its previous status of being just like any other card, not different, not belonging to someone, mixed and shuffled, misplaced and lost in the multitude, to later be found by the conjurer in some enigmatic fashion, appears to me to be either matters of luck and/or coincidence and/or statistics and probability, or, much more preferably, appears to be an act that establishes a union between the conjurer and the eyewitness that reinforces the participant’s individuality.
The desired overall effect of this trick of revealing the participant’s chosen card is actually one of revealing an obvious, yet surprising link between the conjurer and the participant. The conjurer gives the participant an individual identity (card is chosen), and then that identity is stolen away by chance and designs (returned and shuffled), then restored in a surprising manner (impossible/incredible revelation). This remarkable restoration of the participant’s individuality against mind-numbing odds is the real magic that happens between conjurer and participant. This is the real effect.
The vocabulary I see is, “Spectator picks a card. Card is returned to deck. Card is brought to the top of the deck. Use favorite method.” The writing continues by then describing in great detail and at great length some fantastical variation of one of the most popular methods of revealing said chosen card. All attention is placed on the spectacular mode of revelation, while none is placed on the initial interactivity between conjurer and participant, an activity that should establish the relationship and the bond between both parties.
This lack of initial consideration does more harm than good. It is upside-down in that it places more emphasis on the conjurer’s actions than the participant’s. Spectators are merely observers. Participants partake in the action. More attention can and should be placed on the initial selection and return processes, thereby placing more emphasis on the participant’s identity and their contribution. If the participant’s identity and contribution to the affair is firmly established at the onset, the revelation will be more meaningful and satisfying to him… or her… or them… you know what I mean…
Oh, no… not another card trick…
Somebody else pick one… I don’t want to…
Oh, silly me, I forgot my card…
What if I don’t want to tell you my card?
That’s not my card…
The initial selection should be an enticement to participate in a highly random course of action. This process is a lure, of sorts, a drawing in, an attraction with elements of risk and reward. The conjurer is giving an opportunity at the gift of self, of identity, to the participant. This risk and reward is the allure. This is the temptation. This is the excitement. This is the seduction, because, once selected, the card becomes unique, just like the participant. It’s not the conjurer’s card anymore. It’s not just any card anymore. It now belongs to the participant. It’s dissimilar. It’s different. It’s his card… or her card… or their card… you know what I mean.
When people pick cards at random, a bond forms between them and their card before they even look at it, because they will try to guess which card they picked before they look at it. Some people actually wish for a certain card, their card, whichever it may be. It’s the card they most identify with, and they are elated when they select it via a hit or miss process. This is well worth considering because now that they’ve selected their card and established their identity and individuality, the conjurer asks them to abandon it back to the deck. This act is not easy for someone with a newly-found identity to do. They don’t want to do it.
Notes on the Return of a Card
• The return of a card to the deck is the most scrutinized action of this genre. It matters a great deal to the participant what happens to their own card.
• The participant must trust the conjurer enough to allow their identity to be lost, knowing without being told that their card will be safely and wonderfully returned to them.
• The participant must volunteer the action of returning their own card to the deck.
• The participant must not suspect that their identity is being manipulated after they’ve surrendered it.
The participant is placing their identity in the conjurer’s hands, so this is no time for the conjurer to be screwing around. Whatever the method de jure of controlling the card may be, the actions of disassembling the card’s uniqueness must be indisputable. The identity must be genuinely lost, and the conjurer and the participant have to believe it has returned to an ordinary and common state. If the participant believes that they’re being manipulated, then the spell is broken, and all hope for a magical and wonderful revelation is lost. The clean return establishes a well-built conflict.
Now we can reveal their identity using our favorite method.
The ubiquitous effect of having one card chosen by an eyewitness, so it can be identified as different and singular from many others, then returning it to its previous status of being just like any other card, not different, not belonging to someone, mixed and shuffled, misplaced and lost in the multitude, to later be found by the conjurer in some enigmatic fashion, appears to me to be either matters of luck and/or coincidence and/or statistics and probability, or, much more preferably, appears to be an act that establishes a union between the conjurer and the eyewitness that reinforces the participant’s individuality.
The desired overall effect of this trick of revealing the participant’s chosen card is actually one of revealing an obvious, yet surprising link between the conjurer and the participant. The conjurer gives the participant an individual identity (card is chosen), and then that identity is stolen away by chance and designs (returned and shuffled), then restored in a surprising manner (impossible/incredible revelation). This remarkable restoration of the participant’s individuality against mind-numbing odds is the real magic that happens between conjurer and participant. This is the real effect.
The vocabulary I see is, “Spectator picks a card. Card is returned to deck. Card is brought to the top of the deck. Use favorite method.” The writing continues by then describing in great detail and at great length some fantastical variation of one of the most popular methods of revealing said chosen card. All attention is placed on the spectacular mode of revelation, while none is placed on the initial interactivity between conjurer and participant, an activity that should establish the relationship and the bond between both parties.
This lack of initial consideration does more harm than good. It is upside-down in that it places more emphasis on the conjurer’s actions than the participant’s. Spectators are merely observers. Participants partake in the action. More attention can and should be placed on the initial selection and return processes, thereby placing more emphasis on the participant’s identity and their contribution. If the participant’s identity and contribution to the affair is firmly established at the onset, the revelation will be more meaningful and satisfying to him… or her… or them… you know what I mean…
Oh, no… not another card trick…
Somebody else pick one… I don’t want to…
Oh, silly me, I forgot my card…
What if I don’t want to tell you my card?
That’s not my card…
The initial selection should be an enticement to participate in a highly random course of action. This process is a lure, of sorts, a drawing in, an attraction with elements of risk and reward. The conjurer is giving an opportunity at the gift of self, of identity, to the participant. This risk and reward is the allure. This is the temptation. This is the excitement. This is the seduction, because, once selected, the card becomes unique, just like the participant. It’s not the conjurer’s card anymore. It’s not just any card anymore. It now belongs to the participant. It’s dissimilar. It’s different. It’s his card… or her card… or their card… you know what I mean.
When people pick cards at random, a bond forms between them and their card before they even look at it, because they will try to guess which card they picked before they look at it. Some people actually wish for a certain card, their card, whichever it may be. It’s the card they most identify with, and they are elated when they select it via a hit or miss process. This is well worth considering because now that they’ve selected their card and established their identity and individuality, the conjurer asks them to abandon it back to the deck. This act is not easy for someone with a newly-found identity to do. They don’t want to do it.
Notes on the Return of a Card
• The return of a card to the deck is the most scrutinized action of this genre. It matters a great deal to the participant what happens to their own card.
• The participant must trust the conjurer enough to allow their identity to be lost, knowing without being told that their card will be safely and wonderfully returned to them.
• The participant must volunteer the action of returning their own card to the deck.
• The participant must not suspect that their identity is being manipulated after they’ve surrendered it.
The participant is placing their identity in the conjurer’s hands, so this is no time for the conjurer to be screwing around. Whatever the method de jure of controlling the card may be, the actions of disassembling the card’s uniqueness must be indisputable. The identity must be genuinely lost, and the conjurer and the participant have to believe it has returned to an ordinary and common state. If the participant believes that they’re being manipulated, then the spell is broken, and all hope for a magical and wonderful revelation is lost. The clean return establishes a well-built conflict.
Now we can reveal their identity using our favorite method.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
A Swindle, of Sorts... pt. 11
The Boxman is the toughest, meanest, most sure person on the game. He has to be. His word is law, and if he falters, or doubts himself, the entire hierarchy of the game collapses. The Boxman stands alone. Alone in a dark world. Taking heat from the front, the rear, and the flanks. The Boxman is a stranger in a strange land, where everyone is looking for an advantage over him. The dealers want the advantage of being able to do whatever they want to do on the game... like make money for themselves. The players want an advantage over him so they too can make money just by tossing the dice. The Boxman's bosses want an advantage over him so they can look smarter than him, thereby impressing their own bosses. Everybody is out to rip and slice into the Boxman's internal organs, so that when he bleeds, they profit.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Details of the Not-So-Obvious
Given the magnitude of the universe
And the countless stars therein
And the millions of laws
And properties
We have yet to dream of
Generations past
Have found their explanations
And passed them to their kin
As laws
And tools to predict the future
I have accepted some and discarded others
All the while thinking it all a pretty complicated pile of crap
Until yesterday, when it dawned on me
Quite startlingly
That 99% of human perception is total bullshit.
Fighting, all will eventually lose all they have to lose
Except that lost 1% that has never ever been lost
For as long as the universe has lived
Magic is not denial
Magic is a confirmation of natural law.
And the countless stars therein
And the millions of laws
And properties
We have yet to dream of
Generations past
Have found their explanations
And passed them to their kin
As laws
And tools to predict the future
I have accepted some and discarded others
All the while thinking it all a pretty complicated pile of crap
Until yesterday, when it dawned on me
Quite startlingly
That 99% of human perception is total bullshit.
Fighting, all will eventually lose all they have to lose
Except that lost 1% that has never ever been lost
For as long as the universe has lived
Magic is not denial
Magic is a confirmation of natural law.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
the hotel, cont'.
More photos taken by Arq. Jarero. The last one is the reception desk. You can see the stairs leading up. the hotel
These are some pictures of the hotel that Arq. Jarero (the domino guy...) took with his cell phone. You'll notice he's very good with just a cell phone. Enjoy.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Druther
The path of darkness.
The path of enlightenment.
Make a decision.
On different paths...
Yet in the same direction...
Funny how that is.
The path of enlightenment.
Make a decision.
On different paths...
Yet in the same direction...
Funny how that is.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Mexico Detains 29 Police Officers
In a recent article written up on Salon.com, it appears that the Mexican Army as just arrested 29 (twenty-frikkin-nine!) POLICE OFFICERS in the northern state of Monterrey for alleged ties to the drug trafficers. A week ago, federal officials arrested 10 MAYORS and 20 other CITY OFFICIALS in the state of Michoacan, (just southeast of Jalisco) for alleged ties to drug trafficers, or, more specifically, for providing protection to said trafficers.
There were some local folks in Michoacan that beefed about the arrests, saying that they were really a political strategy to WEAKEN THE REPUTATIONS of those arrested's political parties, as national elections are scheduled for the first week in July.
And in Monterrey, there were some local folks (namely family members of the arrested policemen) that beefed about the army's INTERFERRENCE AND INTRUSION in so-called POLICE ACTIVITIES. (About this, I am NOT surprised.)
Mexico, I have some questions for you... Which police officers? Which police activities? And what reputation? What are you talking about? I have lived here for five years, and I have never witnessed any of these...
Get real.
There were some local folks in Michoacan that beefed about the arrests, saying that they were really a political strategy to WEAKEN THE REPUTATIONS of those arrested's political parties, as national elections are scheduled for the first week in July.
And in Monterrey, there were some local folks (namely family members of the arrested policemen) that beefed about the army's INTERFERRENCE AND INTRUSION in so-called POLICE ACTIVITIES. (About this, I am NOT surprised.)
Mexico, I have some questions for you... Which police officers? Which police activities? And what reputation? What are you talking about? I have lived here for five years, and I have never witnessed any of these...
Get real.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Mexican Dominos
This is Paco Jarero, the archetect, playing around with the dominos for a little while between games. He's pretty good at this sort of stuff.
A Swindle, of Sorts... pt. 10
The Money is called The Money because he has the money. This is not a little bit of money, this is a lot of money, and it’s all in cash. A bankroll of $30,000 is standard operating procedure for the take-off, and unbundled, this much cash sits in a pile about as tall as a person’s palm is wide. Seeing that amount of money in somebody’s fist is an experience both impressive and intimidating. The Money uses both of these emotional responses to his team’s advantage.
The Money knows where to bet. One hundred dollars each on Yo-eleven and Twelve, and limit play in the Field. If Hop bets are allowed on the table, the Six on the Wheel is made at one hundred dollars each, and the Yo-eleven and Twelve are not bet. The Money enjoys a staggeringly great advantage because the one die the Scooter slides is guaranteed to show six.
Not only does The Money know where to bet, he also knows how and when to bet. He too is a “last-second hunch bettor.” His timing is critical to the whole operation because it’s his high-end, commanding actions that distracts the Boxman from watching the dice at the critical moment they are thrown.
The Money knows where to bet. One hundred dollars each on Yo-eleven and Twelve, and limit play in the Field. If Hop bets are allowed on the table, the Six on the Wheel is made at one hundred dollars each, and the Yo-eleven and Twelve are not bet. The Money enjoys a staggeringly great advantage because the one die the Scooter slides is guaranteed to show six.
Not only does The Money know where to bet, he also knows how and when to bet. He too is a “last-second hunch bettor.” His timing is critical to the whole operation because it’s his high-end, commanding actions that distracts the Boxman from watching the dice at the critical moment they are thrown.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
A Swindle, of Sorts... pt. 9
What aren’t the dice doing? To answer that, remember that dice are cubes. Casino dice are the most perfect cubes ever made outside of a scientific laboratory. They are within 1/10,000 of an inch of perfection. The operators use micrometers and balances to ensure they are “on the square.” They are perfectly balanced. The spots weigh the same as the die, as the material used to make the spots has the same density as the material used to make the rest of the die. They are translucent. Loads or BB’s can’t be used to throw off the die’s weight because you can see inside the die. Right out of their packaging, casino dice’s edges and corners are sharp enough to draw blood from slow and inexperienced hands on the game. Casino dice are as close to beauty and perfection as it gets inside a casino.
The reason dice are so perfect is because they are the Random Generators for the game. Their behavior determines the outcome of the game, and the amount of money the house will eventually win, even though the operators realize only a slight mathematical advantage on the game. This advantage, called the House Advantage (HA), is calculated by observing the percentage of difference between Natural Odds and Payoff Odds.
Natural Odds are the real probabilities of what the dice will do. Dice have six sides, so two dice have thirty-six combinations. This is expressed by the formula C=x^y, whereby C = number of combinations, x = number of sides, and y = number of dice. Of those thirty-six combinations, only one of them is 6-6, (total = 12, herein referred to by the total…). This means that if you bet that the dice are going to roll a 12, the chances are thirty-five to one against. Thirty-five combinations are losers, and one combination is the winner. Natural Odds are 35-1.
Here’s where it gets complicated. Instead of paying 35-1 for a bet on the 12, the operators only pay 30-1. This is the difference between Natural Odds and Payoff Odds.
And what a big difference it is. It’s this difference that we call the House Advantage, (HA). The HA is calculated as the difference between the two different sets of odds, expressed as a percentage. The way to calculate the HA is pretty easy. Take the difference between the Natural Odds and the Payoff odds and calculate the percentage therein. In the case of 12 Craps, Natural Odds = 35, and Payoff Odds = 30. 35-35=5. 5/35 equals 0.1428. That’s the same way as saying 14.28% HA. That means that the operators realize a whopping 14.28% advantage on every dollar bet on 12 Craps. That’s a HUGE number. Even when the player wins, he loses!
But the house doesn’t always realize such a large win with the game of Craps. Only the proposition bets will gouge the money out of your wallet like that. The rest of the bets, such as the Pass Line, and the Don’t Pass Line, only realize a little over 1% HA. This low HA is comparable to Baccarat, whose claim to fame is the lowest HA of them all: ergo, Craps’ popularity to those who know something about HA. Those who know about HA make the bets which have the least hold; they make the bets that are the closest to Natural Odds to minimize the house’s advantage. They leave the long shots to the amateurs.
And it’s the long shots that invite the cheap shots.
Imagine the radical change in HA if one die were not to roll, as is the Scooter’s expertise. The Scooter doesn’t have to slide both dice for the team to realize a massive advantage. Instead, they change the Natural Odds of occurrences to their favor, and bet accordingly. If the Scooter kills a 6 on one of the dice, the Natural Odds of 12 Craps being rolled goes from 35-1 to 5-1, while the payoff remains 30-1. Bets on Yo Eleven, whose natural odds are 17-1 with payoffs of 15-1, and bets in the Field, which pay on rolls of 2, 3, 4, 9, 10, 11, and 12 all become very lucrative because their Natural Odds also fall to 5-1 and 1-2 respectively.
The Scooter slides one of the dice so as to change the Natural Odds of occurrances, and the Fat Man block and distracts.
All that’s left now is how to take advantage of the shift in Natural Odds. For that, we need The Money.
The reason dice are so perfect is because they are the Random Generators for the game. Their behavior determines the outcome of the game, and the amount of money the house will eventually win, even though the operators realize only a slight mathematical advantage on the game. This advantage, called the House Advantage (HA), is calculated by observing the percentage of difference between Natural Odds and Payoff Odds.
Natural Odds are the real probabilities of what the dice will do. Dice have six sides, so two dice have thirty-six combinations. This is expressed by the formula C=x^y, whereby C = number of combinations, x = number of sides, and y = number of dice. Of those thirty-six combinations, only one of them is 6-6, (total = 12, herein referred to by the total…). This means that if you bet that the dice are going to roll a 12, the chances are thirty-five to one against. Thirty-five combinations are losers, and one combination is the winner. Natural Odds are 35-1.
Here’s where it gets complicated. Instead of paying 35-1 for a bet on the 12, the operators only pay 30-1. This is the difference between Natural Odds and Payoff Odds.
And what a big difference it is. It’s this difference that we call the House Advantage, (HA). The HA is calculated as the difference between the two different sets of odds, expressed as a percentage. The way to calculate the HA is pretty easy. Take the difference between the Natural Odds and the Payoff odds and calculate the percentage therein. In the case of 12 Craps, Natural Odds = 35, and Payoff Odds = 30. 35-35=5. 5/35 equals 0.1428. That’s the same way as saying 14.28% HA. That means that the operators realize a whopping 14.28% advantage on every dollar bet on 12 Craps. That’s a HUGE number. Even when the player wins, he loses!
But the house doesn’t always realize such a large win with the game of Craps. Only the proposition bets will gouge the money out of your wallet like that. The rest of the bets, such as the Pass Line, and the Don’t Pass Line, only realize a little over 1% HA. This low HA is comparable to Baccarat, whose claim to fame is the lowest HA of them all: ergo, Craps’ popularity to those who know something about HA. Those who know about HA make the bets which have the least hold; they make the bets that are the closest to Natural Odds to minimize the house’s advantage. They leave the long shots to the amateurs.
And it’s the long shots that invite the cheap shots.
Imagine the radical change in HA if one die were not to roll, as is the Scooter’s expertise. The Scooter doesn’t have to slide both dice for the team to realize a massive advantage. Instead, they change the Natural Odds of occurrences to their favor, and bet accordingly. If the Scooter kills a 6 on one of the dice, the Natural Odds of 12 Craps being rolled goes from 35-1 to 5-1, while the payoff remains 30-1. Bets on Yo Eleven, whose natural odds are 17-1 with payoffs of 15-1, and bets in the Field, which pay on rolls of 2, 3, 4, 9, 10, 11, and 12 all become very lucrative because their Natural Odds also fall to 5-1 and 1-2 respectively.
The Scooter slides one of the dice so as to change the Natural Odds of occurrances, and the Fat Man block and distracts.
All that’s left now is how to take advantage of the shift in Natural Odds. For that, we need The Money.
A Swindle, of Sorts... pt. 8
The second member of the team is called the Scooter, thus named because this member “scoots” the dice, rather than make them roll legitimately. A legitimate toss of the dice causes the dice to tumble and bounce of the back rail of the dice table. A die tumbles when it flips top over bottom. This action is what most people call “rolling.” The difference is that dice don’t roll because they are not round. Balls and cylinders are round; they roll. Dice and bricks are square; they tumble. Scooting the dice is the same as sliding them. They don’t tumble, they scoot.
The Scooter is an expert at sliding the dice. He stands to the stickman’s immediate left. When it’s his turn to shoot the dice, he can scoot them to the other end of the table and the dice will never tumble. Scooting both dice sounds impressive, and it sounds like the stuff movies are made of, but that only happens in the movies. Our Scooter only scoots one die. We’ll get back to that in a bit.
Dealers love it when the players make bets for them. They get to keep the money they win. Some nights this could amount to $20 a man, on other nights it could be $2,000 a man. Players make bets for the dealers for a variety of reasons. Some do it because it’s lucky. Other’s do it because they know the boss doesn’t pay the dealers much more than minimum wage. The dealers often ask the players to make bets for them, because they have mouths to feed, college tuitions to pay for, and an innate desire to be a part of the action.
Big tippers are called Georges. And the Scooter is very much a George. He likes to make bets for the dealers because he is such a nice guy. But he doesn’t make bets for all the dealers. He only makes bets for the stickman. He doesn’t make bets for the stickman because it brings him luck, nor because the stickman asked him for a bet. He doesn’t even know the stickman. In fact, he doesn’t care at all for the stickman. The Stickman’s job is to watch the dice. The Stickman must never take his eyes off the dice, not even for a split-second. All these bets the Scooter makes for the stickman are “last-second hunch” bets, and he makes them at the last second so as to distract the stickman the split-second he scoots the dice.
The scooter picks up the dice with one hand, makes ready to shoot them, and tosses the stickman a buck to bet for himself with his other hand. When the stickman looks at the money the Scooter tossed him, the Scooter lets loose with the dice, scooting one of them along the way. The Stickman sees the dice go flying and immediately resumes his duties of watching the dice. Just as the dice go flying past the Stickman, the Fat Man hastily leans over the table and presses his bets, using his belly to further block the Stickman’s view of the scooting die. These combined, last-second actions blind the Stickman and the second Base Dealer’s view of what the dice are doing, or rather, not doing.
The Scooter is an expert at sliding the dice. He stands to the stickman’s immediate left. When it’s his turn to shoot the dice, he can scoot them to the other end of the table and the dice will never tumble. Scooting both dice sounds impressive, and it sounds like the stuff movies are made of, but that only happens in the movies. Our Scooter only scoots one die. We’ll get back to that in a bit.
Dealers love it when the players make bets for them. They get to keep the money they win. Some nights this could amount to $20 a man, on other nights it could be $2,000 a man. Players make bets for the dealers for a variety of reasons. Some do it because it’s lucky. Other’s do it because they know the boss doesn’t pay the dealers much more than minimum wage. The dealers often ask the players to make bets for them, because they have mouths to feed, college tuitions to pay for, and an innate desire to be a part of the action.
Big tippers are called Georges. And the Scooter is very much a George. He likes to make bets for the dealers because he is such a nice guy. But he doesn’t make bets for all the dealers. He only makes bets for the stickman. He doesn’t make bets for the stickman because it brings him luck, nor because the stickman asked him for a bet. He doesn’t even know the stickman. In fact, he doesn’t care at all for the stickman. The Stickman’s job is to watch the dice. The Stickman must never take his eyes off the dice, not even for a split-second. All these bets the Scooter makes for the stickman are “last-second hunch” bets, and he makes them at the last second so as to distract the stickman the split-second he scoots the dice.
The scooter picks up the dice with one hand, makes ready to shoot them, and tosses the stickman a buck to bet for himself with his other hand. When the stickman looks at the money the Scooter tossed him, the Scooter lets loose with the dice, scooting one of them along the way. The Stickman sees the dice go flying and immediately resumes his duties of watching the dice. Just as the dice go flying past the Stickman, the Fat Man hastily leans over the table and presses his bets, using his belly to further block the Stickman’s view of the scooting die. These combined, last-second actions blind the Stickman and the second Base Dealer’s view of what the dice are doing, or rather, not doing.
A Swindle, of Sorts... pt. 7
In the real work, the three members of the enterprise arrive at the table at different times, usually staggered by five or ten minutes. The first member to arrive on the live game is the Fat Man.
The Fat Man is called the Fat Man because he is fat. His beer belly extends forward a distance of one or two feet, and when positioned correctly, it can block out the sun. Because of the height of the railing on the dice table and the size of the Fat Man’s girth, when the Fat Man leans over the table’s rail, his belly can block the stickman’s view of the entire half of the table onto which the dice are thrown. To do this effectively, the Fat Man plays the position on the table directly at the Stickman’s right-hand side. The Fat Man stands close enough to the Stickman so that their elbows would touch were they both to extend them.
While the Fat Man’s waist measurement is of considerable interest, it’s his style of play that defines his expertise and contribution to the enterprise. The Fat Man plays Place Bets on the Inside or just the Six and Eight. He also raises his bets on “last-second hunches.” It’s his action of raising his bets at the “last-second” that allows him to use his belly to block the Stickman’s view of the dice as the land on that side of the table. Just as the shooter is releasing the dice, the Fat Man leans across the table with a handful of chips and yells, “Raise my Six and Eight!!!” and slams his chips on the layout in a messy pile. The Stickman cannot see the dice being tossed, as the Fat Man’s belly blocks his entire view, and the baseman is too concerned with the Fat Man’s last-second, slapdash demand to pay any attention to what the dice do, or rather, what the dice don’t do.
What the dice “don’t do” defines the second member’s expertise and contribution to the take-off enterprise.
The Fat Man is called the Fat Man because he is fat. His beer belly extends forward a distance of one or two feet, and when positioned correctly, it can block out the sun. Because of the height of the railing on the dice table and the size of the Fat Man’s girth, when the Fat Man leans over the table’s rail, his belly can block the stickman’s view of the entire half of the table onto which the dice are thrown. To do this effectively, the Fat Man plays the position on the table directly at the Stickman’s right-hand side. The Fat Man stands close enough to the Stickman so that their elbows would touch were they both to extend them.
While the Fat Man’s waist measurement is of considerable interest, it’s his style of play that defines his expertise and contribution to the enterprise. The Fat Man plays Place Bets on the Inside or just the Six and Eight. He also raises his bets on “last-second hunches.” It’s his action of raising his bets at the “last-second” that allows him to use his belly to block the Stickman’s view of the dice as the land on that side of the table. Just as the shooter is releasing the dice, the Fat Man leans across the table with a handful of chips and yells, “Raise my Six and Eight!!!” and slams his chips on the layout in a messy pile. The Stickman cannot see the dice being tossed, as the Fat Man’s belly blocks his entire view, and the baseman is too concerned with the Fat Man’s last-second, slapdash demand to pay any attention to what the dice do, or rather, what the dice don’t do.
What the dice “don’t do” defines the second member’s expertise and contribution to the take-off enterprise.
hoi jeon moo sool
Check out some videos of the style my son and I are learning...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xHo83j-XeSo&feature=related
copy and paste the link. I'm too lazy to write it up correctly
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xHo83j-XeSo&feature=related
copy and paste the link. I'm too lazy to write it up correctly
Differ's Wrench
For as many years as I've been aware, I've pondered and puzzled. I've worked ideas over in my head striving towards some kind of profound realization that will give me advantage and something to pass on to my kids' kids.
And recently, I've come to peace with it. Finally.
Be a player. Be the winner. Be the loser. Be the cheerer. Be the jeerer. Be the hot dog vendor. Be the coach. Be the ticket scalper. Play your part. It's all just a game.
And recently, I've come to peace with it. Finally.
Be a player. Be the winner. Be the loser. Be the cheerer. Be the jeerer. Be the hot dog vendor. Be the coach. Be the ticket scalper. Play your part. It's all just a game.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Values
"Take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented."
Elie Wiesel
Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech, Oslo, Norway, 11 Dec. 1986
Elie Wiesel
Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech, Oslo, Norway, 11 Dec. 1986
Saturday, May 9, 2009
A Swindle, of Sorts... pt. 6
Any successful business enterprise isthe result of successful teamwork, with each member of the team specializing in a certain field of expertise. It is this combination of expert abilities that creates a Gestalt, whereby the strength of the team is greater than the sum of the strengths of its members. It doesn't matter the teams legal "swing." A good team makes money.
The best team to take off a dice table has a minimum of three agents; each agent is a specialist in one aspect of the take-off. These three members are a devastating combination, as each has practiced to perfection his own contribution to the enterprise. They are the real experts. They have practiced their moves and actions a thousand times before they walk onto a live game where real money is being played. They have considered their angles. They have considered all of their outs. They have considered permutations. They know which way the wind is blowing. They have cased and stalked their prey. They are the three hunters.
The best team to take off a dice table has a minimum of three agents; each agent is a specialist in one aspect of the take-off. These three members are a devastating combination, as each has practiced to perfection his own contribution to the enterprise. They are the real experts. They have practiced their moves and actions a thousand times before they walk onto a live game where real money is being played. They have considered their angles. They have considered all of their outs. They have considered permutations. They know which way the wind is blowing. They have cased and stalked their prey. They are the three hunters.
the edge
Come to the edge...
(We might fall!)...
Come to the edge!...
(It's too high!)...
COME TO THE EDGE!...
and they came...
and he pushed...
and they flew...
-Cristopher Logue (1969)
(We might fall!)...
Come to the edge!...
(It's too high!)...
COME TO THE EDGE!...
and they came...
and he pushed...
and they flew...
-Cristopher Logue (1969)
A Swindle, of Sorts... pt. 5
It doesn't require a lot to take off the game. Bums can steal chips off the game when inexperienced players or operators aren't watching. Semi-experienced players can past-post a bet or two when the operators' guards are down. But these types of petit larceny are really the work of sophomores. They're foolish. They're so easily caught. They don't really rank up there with that certain class of criminal gang whose activities score tens of thousands of dollars at a time, and whose activities remain quite often undetected, even by the bosses themselves.
This is a "once-upon-a-time" story about one of those clever criminal gangs that worked the dice table take-downs, and of one guy they didn't expect to meet one day.
This is a "once-upon-a-time" story about one of those clever criminal gangs that worked the dice table take-downs, and of one guy they didn't expect to meet one day.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
A Swindle, of Sorts... pt. 4
Heads up, hands up, money plays where it lays... I'd rather be lucky than smart.
There can be as many as twenty people on a game with only four or five of them being the operators. That's as many as twenty-five people moving and hustling to get their piece of the action. Heads down, butts up, the operators work for the bank, the house, the joint, the boss. The rest are the real players. The three main moving and humping operators are the Stickman and the two Base Dealers. The fourth operator is the Boxman. He's the senior member of the operators. He keeps the boss happy. He guards the cash and watches the dice, constantly on the lookout for any funny business. The fifth operator, an enigma, rarely if ever seen, is the Omnipotent Eye, the boss himself.
There can be as many as twenty people on a game with only four or five of them being the operators. That's as many as twenty-five people moving and hustling to get their piece of the action. Heads down, butts up, the operators work for the bank, the house, the joint, the boss. The rest are the real players. The three main moving and humping operators are the Stickman and the two Base Dealers. The fourth operator is the Boxman. He's the senior member of the operators. He keeps the boss happy. He guards the cash and watches the dice, constantly on the lookout for any funny business. The fifth operator, an enigma, rarely if ever seen, is the Omnipotent Eye, the boss himself.
A Swindle, of Sorts... pt. 3
In the gambling game of Craps, people stand around a long, low, walled table and throw money and dice all over its surface. The dice are thrown, they land, their sum called out, and the money exchanges hands amid the shouts and preparations for the next throw. This continues as long as the money lasts and the cops don't raid the joint. The game is complex, yet simple. It takes five minutes to learn to play, and a lifetime to forget the experience. The players can be euphoric and ecstatic one minute, destitute and desolate the next. It is a high-risk, high-reward investment. Fortunes have been won and fortunes have been lost, all on the turn of the Galloping Dominos. Craps is a Funny Game.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
A Swindle, of Sorts... pt. 2
One person leads, an another person follows. It's a rare experience. Eventually, someone catchs up with the other, and then they pass.
But,
For that brief time when nobody has caught up, solitude loses its meloncholy for the leader... the path ahead is clear... and the view is nothing short of spectacular.
But,
For that brief time when nobody has caught up, solitude loses its meloncholy for the leader... the path ahead is clear... and the view is nothing short of spectacular.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
A Swindle, of Sorts...
Have you ever been in a situation where you just didn’t quite know what to do? Imagine climbing a flight of stairs in total darkness. Imagine your boss calling you onto the carpet and you don’t know where your partner put that important file. It’s insane. It’s nerve-wracking. What do you do in that situation? Do you run and hide? Do you take an emergency coffee break? Do you run around in circles, screaming and shouting? Do you go schitzo?
Most people don’t know what to do in stressful situations. Either they don’t have any or enough training, or they haven’t developed their instincts, their gut feelings. This confidence in gut feelings is a difficult knack to develop. It requires experience and wisdom. But most of all, it takes juevos. It takes cojones. Relying on gut feelings takes guts.
How many of you, when you’re face with a difficult situation, where you don’t know where to go or what to do, but you have to do something… how many of you have the guts to buckle down and buck up, to gather your wits about you, and advance forward in the darkness, relying only on your instincts?
Who here has guts enough to take a chance with me?
Most people don’t know what to do in stressful situations. Either they don’t have any or enough training, or they haven’t developed their instincts, their gut feelings. This confidence in gut feelings is a difficult knack to develop. It requires experience and wisdom. But most of all, it takes juevos. It takes cojones. Relying on gut feelings takes guts.
How many of you, when you’re face with a difficult situation, where you don’t know where to go or what to do, but you have to do something… how many of you have the guts to buckle down and buck up, to gather your wits about you, and advance forward in the darkness, relying only on your instincts?
Who here has guts enough to take a chance with me?
Friday, February 27, 2009
Details of the Gemstone
Once, not too long ago, I was lucky enough to hold a very large gemstone in my hands. It had hundreds of little shiny facets all over it. A “perfect cut,” it sparkled and shone and danced the light off of the very walls. And even though it was a little heavier than I thought it would be, it felt wonderful in my hands. I thought it was the one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen in my life.
I loved to slowly turn it around and around at my fingertips. As I turned it round, I loved to watch it sparkle and glitter. Every once and a while, I would hold it up to the light and look through it and see all the different ways to look at the world, all the different angles, and all the different perspectives that the gemstone let me see.
Almost as if I were in a dream, one of the refractions struck my eye and revealed itself to be a living light. The light that shone into my eyes was alive. That one ideal glimpse started as an innocuous glance, but as I slowly turned the gemstone in my hand, it quickly opened itself up to me and revealed itself as an insight into the nature of the universe.
How it shone in my eyes! And how I reveled in it! As that angle passed by in my eyes, I could see the whole of the everything of it all, whatever once was, all that is, and whatever might be. I saw time. I saw water flowing. I saw stars and dust and molecules. I saw cycles and dreams. In that split second that passing light that revealed itself to me through that rare, beautiful gem, I saw birth, life, and all passing, all in its single magical facet.
And then, in that passing, it was gone.
Just gone.
So I put the gemstone back down where I found it, back in the place it was before.
I still know where that gemstone is. I see it all the time. It’s right next to me. I look at the gemstone nearly every day. Sometimes I see it accidentally, and that really surprises me. Sometimes I purposefully go and look at it because it brings such fond memories. I catch myself wanting to pick it up again and hold it in my hands and turn it around to see if I can catch my glimpse again. But I don’t do that. And I still mull over my reasons why I don’t.
I loved to slowly turn it around and around at my fingertips. As I turned it round, I loved to watch it sparkle and glitter. Every once and a while, I would hold it up to the light and look through it and see all the different ways to look at the world, all the different angles, and all the different perspectives that the gemstone let me see.
Almost as if I were in a dream, one of the refractions struck my eye and revealed itself to be a living light. The light that shone into my eyes was alive. That one ideal glimpse started as an innocuous glance, but as I slowly turned the gemstone in my hand, it quickly opened itself up to me and revealed itself as an insight into the nature of the universe.
How it shone in my eyes! And how I reveled in it! As that angle passed by in my eyes, I could see the whole of the everything of it all, whatever once was, all that is, and whatever might be. I saw time. I saw water flowing. I saw stars and dust and molecules. I saw cycles and dreams. In that split second that passing light that revealed itself to me through that rare, beautiful gem, I saw birth, life, and all passing, all in its single magical facet.
And then, in that passing, it was gone.
Just gone.
So I put the gemstone back down where I found it, back in the place it was before.
I still know where that gemstone is. I see it all the time. It’s right next to me. I look at the gemstone nearly every day. Sometimes I see it accidentally, and that really surprises me. Sometimes I purposefully go and look at it because it brings such fond memories. I catch myself wanting to pick it up again and hold it in my hands and turn it around to see if I can catch my glimpse again. But I don’t do that. And I still mull over my reasons why I don’t.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Details of the Not-So-Obvious
have I ever felt
like I weren't there?
sure, I were there...
but I weren't!
of course I were
it all indicates
in retrospect
that's what they'll say
have I ever felt
like it was slipping away?
passing right by
non-stop, no waiting.
And the train goes
it goes
with or without
time slips carelessly by
And I
With my Ticket in my Hand.
like I weren't there?
sure, I were there...
but I weren't!
of course I were
it all indicates
in retrospect
that's what they'll say
have I ever felt
like it was slipping away?
passing right by
non-stop, no waiting.
And the train goes
it goes
with or without
time slips carelessly by
And I
With my Ticket in my Hand.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Details of the Not-So-Obvious
There is a place here in Guadalajara, not too far from where I live, that attracts two types of people. It's a "nightclub" of sorts, an open-air affair that can house about 1,000 people. It's half as big as a football field, with tables and chairs, a bar or two, and a restaurant. Bands play, people dance, friendships are born and die, and love is made and lost.
The prettiest girls in the city frequent the joint. You can see six or seven of them sitting at a table, all drinking and laughing, all drop-dead pretty. That's really not something you see everywhere.
The ugliest guys in the city are also frequenters of the locale. Short, fat, and/or bald, they roam from table to table buying the girls drinks, making small talk with them, practicing their "moves." Generally, they're doing what they have to do to get their 'mac' on with the pretty ladies. And the girls generally let them.
The prettiest girls in town are associating with the ugliest guys town in this place. That's what struck me as odd. How in the world can this be? What the heck is going on here?
Then I figured out where the richest guys in town go to meet girls.
I guess opposites do attract.
The prettiest girls in the city frequent the joint. You can see six or seven of them sitting at a table, all drinking and laughing, all drop-dead pretty. That's really not something you see everywhere.
The ugliest guys in the city are also frequenters of the locale. Short, fat, and/or bald, they roam from table to table buying the girls drinks, making small talk with them, practicing their "moves." Generally, they're doing what they have to do to get their 'mac' on with the pretty ladies. And the girls generally let them.
The prettiest girls in town are associating with the ugliest guys town in this place. That's what struck me as odd. How in the world can this be? What the heck is going on here?
Then I figured out where the richest guys in town go to meet girls.
I guess opposites do attract.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Impish Ambition
I have a love/hate relationship with the Ambitious Card routine. It's the one where the magician puts a card somewhere in the middle of the deck, and it magically jumps back to the top of the deck. Then he puts it back in the middle of the deck, and it jumps back on top. And then again, and then again, and then again, etc.
The plot goes like "This card is ambitious. It always climbs to the top. Despite, or in spite of all my efforts to subjugate it, it manages to climb the ladder of success. It cannot be defeated."
While the actual tricks themselves utilized to get the card back on top of the deck are visual and stunning, this approach to the plot is little more than Horse Manure. It's a great routine. It's a lame story. It's lame because it doesn't contain any real theatrical conflict. In fact, this approach to the story is nothing more than the magician saying, "Lookee what I can do in umpteen different ways." It's just showing off. The magician sets the conditions and then solves them with the greatest of ease. Where's the mountain to climb? Where's the challenge? Where's the magic?
I believe that every trick has its own story to tell. In every trick, something is happening that can relate to us on a conscious and a subconscious level. It's this subconscious story that the trick wants to tell. That's the story that will ring true to the listener. That's the story that will catch them by the short hairs and not let them go until it's over.
The hardest part of being a magician is figuring out what that subconscious story, the subtext of the magic trick, and then figuring out a way to let the character entertainingly reveal that story to the listeners. Subconscious stories can tell themselves if they are liberated and allowed to do so. The reason this can be so difficult to do is that it's much easier to simply contrive any old story to go along with any old certain trick. It's much easier to just write the story to suit what appears on the surface/conscious level, the superficial, and then mash the two together and call it magic, as I believe has always been the case for the standard Ambitious Card routine.
Putting a card in the middle of the deck, and then seeing that the card has risen to the top, doesn't mean that the card is ambitious. What it means that the card is impish and mischievious. Imagine a non-magician doing the same thing, and you'll get the idea. They put the card in the middle and then find it on top. "Hey, WTF? That's not supposed to be." So they put it back in the middle, and off it goes again. So they put it back in the middle of the deck and then tie a rope around the deck, and the card mischieviously finds it way back to the top. Imagine how flabbergasting that would be to the poor non-magician. Imagine how much cognative dissonance that would cause in their tired and confused brain.
Now put yourself in the place of the poor, tired, confused, and flabbergasted non-magician.
The plot goes like "This card is ambitious. It always climbs to the top. Despite, or in spite of all my efforts to subjugate it, it manages to climb the ladder of success. It cannot be defeated."
While the actual tricks themselves utilized to get the card back on top of the deck are visual and stunning, this approach to the plot is little more than Horse Manure. It's a great routine. It's a lame story. It's lame because it doesn't contain any real theatrical conflict. In fact, this approach to the story is nothing more than the magician saying, "Lookee what I can do in umpteen different ways." It's just showing off. The magician sets the conditions and then solves them with the greatest of ease. Where's the mountain to climb? Where's the challenge? Where's the magic?
I believe that every trick has its own story to tell. In every trick, something is happening that can relate to us on a conscious and a subconscious level. It's this subconscious story that the trick wants to tell. That's the story that will ring true to the listener. That's the story that will catch them by the short hairs and not let them go until it's over.
The hardest part of being a magician is figuring out what that subconscious story, the subtext of the magic trick, and then figuring out a way to let the character entertainingly reveal that story to the listeners. Subconscious stories can tell themselves if they are liberated and allowed to do so. The reason this can be so difficult to do is that it's much easier to simply contrive any old story to go along with any old certain trick. It's much easier to just write the story to suit what appears on the surface/conscious level, the superficial, and then mash the two together and call it magic, as I believe has always been the case for the standard Ambitious Card routine.
Putting a card in the middle of the deck, and then seeing that the card has risen to the top, doesn't mean that the card is ambitious. What it means that the card is impish and mischievious. Imagine a non-magician doing the same thing, and you'll get the idea. They put the card in the middle and then find it on top. "Hey, WTF? That's not supposed to be." So they put it back in the middle, and off it goes again. So they put it back in the middle of the deck and then tie a rope around the deck, and the card mischieviously finds it way back to the top. Imagine how flabbergasting that would be to the poor non-magician. Imagine how much cognative dissonance that would cause in their tired and confused brain.
Now put yourself in the place of the poor, tired, confused, and flabbergasted non-magician.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Details of the Not-So-Obvious
Chili peppers are ground down to a fine dust to better be able to extract their active ingredient, capsaicin. Once the capsaicin, a chemical compound that "stimulates" the chemoreceptor nerve endings, is isolated and concentrated, it can be put into a pressurized container to be deployed into the eyes, ears, nose, and/or mouth of any dumbass that deserves it. Pretty dangerous stuff.
Anthrax, actually a bacterium, not a virus, can also be manipulated the same way, although it isn't usually put in a pressurized container and sold at your corner drugstore. The finer the powder, the more concentrated it is, and the easier it is absorbed into the body. PRETTY dangerous stuff.
This procedure and process of extraction and concentration is called "weaponization." That means making a weapon out of something that isn't usually a weapon. A chili pepper isn't a weapon, although it could make you hella sick. The Anthrax bacterium, naturally existing in nature, isn't usually a weapon, although it too will make you hella hella sick. But once you weaponize them, they go from "funny and microscopic" to "you're in big trouble" all the way to "odds on that you're gonna die, bub." REALLY dangerous stuff.
The reason I mention all this is because I've noticed something recently, and it sort of fits in with what I've been talking about. Cuban coffee, elsewise known as expresso, is made from coffee beans just like American coffee, capuchino, and all the other $6 coffees available everywhere you go. The difference between expresso and the other coffees is that the beans used to make expresso are ground down to a fine powder to make the extraction of the active ingredient, caffeine, easier. Consequently, the resultant product is stronger and more concentrated, and much easier to absorb into the system.
Can you see where this is going?
Weaponized coffee!
Anthrax, actually a bacterium, not a virus, can also be manipulated the same way, although it isn't usually put in a pressurized container and sold at your corner drugstore. The finer the powder, the more concentrated it is, and the easier it is absorbed into the body. PRETTY dangerous stuff.
This procedure and process of extraction and concentration is called "weaponization." That means making a weapon out of something that isn't usually a weapon. A chili pepper isn't a weapon, although it could make you hella sick. The Anthrax bacterium, naturally existing in nature, isn't usually a weapon, although it too will make you hella hella sick. But once you weaponize them, they go from "funny and microscopic" to "you're in big trouble" all the way to "odds on that you're gonna die, bub." REALLY dangerous stuff.
The reason I mention all this is because I've noticed something recently, and it sort of fits in with what I've been talking about. Cuban coffee, elsewise known as expresso, is made from coffee beans just like American coffee, capuchino, and all the other $6 coffees available everywhere you go. The difference between expresso and the other coffees is that the beans used to make expresso are ground down to a fine powder to make the extraction of the active ingredient, caffeine, easier. Consequently, the resultant product is stronger and more concentrated, and much easier to absorb into the system.
Can you see where this is going?
Weaponized coffee!
Sunday, February 8, 2009
I should have bet on it
Crystal beat Cecilia in arm-wrestling yesterday. Please remember that Cecilia is the mom, and Crystal is the 12 year old daughter.
Crystal had just jumped rope 400 times about an hour before the big showdown with her mother. A set of 100, then another set of 100, then a set of 200. She was pumped. She was primed.
The match lasted about 8 seconds. At first it was a dead heat. They were both locked, and neither of them could get the advantage. Then Crystal, feeling that her mom was tiring, put her whole back into the operation and put her mom's arm down so quickly, mom almost went flying out of her chair.
Told you she's strong.
I should have bet on it.
:D
Crystal had just jumped rope 400 times about an hour before the big showdown with her mother. A set of 100, then another set of 100, then a set of 200. She was pumped. She was primed.
The match lasted about 8 seconds. At first it was a dead heat. They were both locked, and neither of them could get the advantage. Then Crystal, feeling that her mom was tiring, put her whole back into the operation and put her mom's arm down so quickly, mom almost went flying out of her chair.
Told you she's strong.
I should have bet on it.
:D
Hold 'Em
I hate being obligated to a pocket pair.That pair of fives I'm hiding in my pocket? They're not as strong as I'd like them to be. Neither were those nines I had the last hand. Give me a pair of face cards, please. Or better yet, give me and ace and a face suited. I might even go all in with those cards.
It takes two pairs, aces and kings, to get close to the money, and it takes trips to win. So unless I've got a horseshoe in my back pocket, or somewhere else, and the flop spits out the trip to my baby pair, I'm in a world of hurt, and the pain just gets worse if I keep betting it will get better. It's almost like I'm asking for it.
It takes two pairs, aces and kings, to get close to the money, and it takes trips to win. So unless I've got a horseshoe in my back pocket, or somewhere else, and the flop spits out the trip to my baby pair, I'm in a world of hurt, and the pain just gets worse if I keep betting it will get better. It's almost like I'm asking for it.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Mexican Mumbles
Da Mexicanos, dey speaky da ingles like me.
Cheese
Maria like me, but cheese too fat.
Mushroom
When all my family get in the car, there's no mushroom.
Shoulder
My fren want to become a citizen, but she don't know how to read so I sholder.
Texas
My fren always Texas me when I'm not home, wondering where I am.
Herpes
My and my fren order pizza. I got mine piece and she got herpes.
July
Ju told me ju were going to the store and July to me! Julyer!
Rectum
I had two cars, but my wife rectum.
Chicken
I was going to go to the store with my wife, but chicken go herself.
Wheelchair
We only have one enchilada, but don worry, wheelchair.
Chicken wing
My wife play the lottery so chicken wing.
Harassment
My wife caught me in bed with another women an I tole her honey harassment nothing to me.
Bishop
My wife fall down the stair so I had to pick the bishop.
Body wash
I want to go to the club, but no body wash my kids.
Cheese
Maria like me, but cheese too fat.
Mushroom
When all my family get in the car, there's no mushroom.
Shoulder
My fren want to become a citizen, but she don't know how to read so I sholder.
Texas
My fren always Texas me when I'm not home, wondering where I am.
Herpes
My and my fren order pizza. I got mine piece and she got herpes.
July
Ju told me ju were going to the store and July to me! Julyer!
Rectum
I had two cars, but my wife rectum.
Chicken
I was going to go to the store with my wife, but chicken go herself.
Wheelchair
We only have one enchilada, but don worry, wheelchair.
Chicken wing
My wife play the lottery so chicken wing.
Harassment
My wife caught me in bed with another women an I tole her honey harassment nothing to me.
Bishop
My wife fall down the stair so I had to pick the bishop.
Body wash
I want to go to the club, but no body wash my kids.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Mexican Mindset
Talking with a good friend of mine, a co-worker whom I consider a good friend, about the Mexican State of Mind...
...and we were discussing that fact that The problem with the Mexican people is that these people are afraid to change. They're resistant to it. They are scared of it.
I don't know where they get this fear. Maybe it's from their parents. Maybe it's from their church (Catholic). Maybe it's because they've been beaten down by their own government and police force for so long that they don't want to make trouble. Maybe it's because the average citizen doesn't have the right to own a gun and can't enforce change even if they wanted it.
And this presents a problem for my friend. His problem is that he cares about his country and wants to see change. He wants to see change for the better here. He wants the kids to grow up with a fighting chance at living a happy life. He wants his people to be proud of who they are, proud of where they're from, and proud of where they can go.
But he doesn't see that here. He doesn't see hope in his countryman's eyes. He doesn't hear them talking about the things they want to do in the future. He doesn't see them choosing a higher, and often more difficult, position, or deciding to take matters into their own hands. And worse, he doesn't see them teaching said higher aspirations to their kids.
Instead, he sees the values of money and sex being taught and talked about. His pet-peeve is that the people only think that they're pretty if they have money, and they're teaching that to their kids. They are only happy if they have the newest cellphone or newest car or the newest furniture, or clothes. They are only happy if their kids are foresaking their own personal happiness with regards to career choices so that their chosen professions will be money-earners, thereby making them so-much-better than the others.
And this bothers him a great deal. It frustrates him, and makes him second-guess himself regarding the work he does as a teacher. You see, unlike most teachers, he teaches life skills as well as Chemestry and Mathematics. He teaches his core subjects and also talks about the future with his students. He asks questions like, "What do you want to do with your future?" He also asks, "Where will you be in ten years?" And his students don't have a clue as to how to answer him! He's the first person in their whole lives that asks these questions in their native language! They're stimied, stupified, shocked, and stunned by his questions.
And because they can't answer him, he winds up second-guessing himself as to what changes he is making or could possibly make in his students' lives. He wonders if he is actually helping his kids find happiness in their lives. He only sees the kids one, maybe two hours a day. He knows that he is fighting an uphill battle because as soon as his students walk out the doors of the school and on to the streets and into their homes, they'll be bombarded with ideas and concepts that are quite the opposite of what he says. He doesn't know how to fight uphill.
Remembering my "Art of War" I told him that the wise man doesn't fight uphill. Instead, he plants the seeds of discontent in the other army. Since he doesn't have access into the minds of the students' parents, he can instead plant the seed of hope in his students' minds. This seed, this seed of hope and realization, once planted in their heads, will eventually sprout and take root in some of their heads. Maybe a year from now, maybe ten years from now, this seed of hope will be an oak tree, fully grown into fruition, strong and sure.
And planting that seed now... that's the best we can hope for as teachers, given our limited time and funding.
It may not sound like much, but it's been my experience that these types of seeds do take root and grown very well. The trick to our understanding is that we can't expect results right away. Great change takes time.
...and we were discussing that fact that The problem with the Mexican people is that these people are afraid to change. They're resistant to it. They are scared of it.
I don't know where they get this fear. Maybe it's from their parents. Maybe it's from their church (Catholic). Maybe it's because they've been beaten down by their own government and police force for so long that they don't want to make trouble. Maybe it's because the average citizen doesn't have the right to own a gun and can't enforce change even if they wanted it.
And this presents a problem for my friend. His problem is that he cares about his country and wants to see change. He wants to see change for the better here. He wants the kids to grow up with a fighting chance at living a happy life. He wants his people to be proud of who they are, proud of where they're from, and proud of where they can go.
But he doesn't see that here. He doesn't see hope in his countryman's eyes. He doesn't hear them talking about the things they want to do in the future. He doesn't see them choosing a higher, and often more difficult, position, or deciding to take matters into their own hands. And worse, he doesn't see them teaching said higher aspirations to their kids.
Instead, he sees the values of money and sex being taught and talked about. His pet-peeve is that the people only think that they're pretty if they have money, and they're teaching that to their kids. They are only happy if they have the newest cellphone or newest car or the newest furniture, or clothes. They are only happy if their kids are foresaking their own personal happiness with regards to career choices so that their chosen professions will be money-earners, thereby making them so-much-better than the others.
And this bothers him a great deal. It frustrates him, and makes him second-guess himself regarding the work he does as a teacher. You see, unlike most teachers, he teaches life skills as well as Chemestry and Mathematics. He teaches his core subjects and also talks about the future with his students. He asks questions like, "What do you want to do with your future?" He also asks, "Where will you be in ten years?" And his students don't have a clue as to how to answer him! He's the first person in their whole lives that asks these questions in their native language! They're stimied, stupified, shocked, and stunned by his questions.
And because they can't answer him, he winds up second-guessing himself as to what changes he is making or could possibly make in his students' lives. He wonders if he is actually helping his kids find happiness in their lives. He only sees the kids one, maybe two hours a day. He knows that he is fighting an uphill battle because as soon as his students walk out the doors of the school and on to the streets and into their homes, they'll be bombarded with ideas and concepts that are quite the opposite of what he says. He doesn't know how to fight uphill.
Remembering my "Art of War" I told him that the wise man doesn't fight uphill. Instead, he plants the seeds of discontent in the other army. Since he doesn't have access into the minds of the students' parents, he can instead plant the seed of hope in his students' minds. This seed, this seed of hope and realization, once planted in their heads, will eventually sprout and take root in some of their heads. Maybe a year from now, maybe ten years from now, this seed of hope will be an oak tree, fully grown into fruition, strong and sure.
And planting that seed now... that's the best we can hope for as teachers, given our limited time and funding.
It may not sound like much, but it's been my experience that these types of seeds do take root and grown very well. The trick to our understanding is that we can't expect results right away. Great change takes time.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Beyond the Edge
I know where the edge of sanity is.
I know exactly where it is for me.
I know the way, and every day
I can recall it from a perfect memory.
Once, on a whim, I walked myself there.
I wanted to see the colors blue and grey.
It didn't take long, the journey was light.
There was no getting lost along the way.
I have been to the edge.
And I have looked down.
I have seen what is down there.
And I can tell you now.
There must be something more.
I know exactly where it is for me.
I know the way, and every day
I can recall it from a perfect memory.
Once, on a whim, I walked myself there.
I wanted to see the colors blue and grey.
It didn't take long, the journey was light.
There was no getting lost along the way.
I have been to the edge.
And I have looked down.
I have seen what is down there.
And I can tell you now.
There must be something more.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Audioslave
Pearls and swine, bereft of me
Long and weary my road has been
I was lost in the cities
Alone in the hills
No sorrow or pity
For me they are feeling
I am not your rolling wheels
I am the highway
I am not your carpet ride
I am the sky
Friends and liars, don't wait for me
Cause I'll get on all by myself
I've put millions of miles under my heels
and still too close to you I feel.
I am not your rolling wheels,
I am the highway.
I am not your carpet ride,
I am the sky.
I am not your blowing wind,
I am the lightning.
I am not your Autumn moon.
I am the night.
Yeah.
Long and weary my road has been
I was lost in the cities
Alone in the hills
No sorrow or pity
For me they are feeling
I am not your rolling wheels
I am the highway
I am not your carpet ride
I am the sky
Friends and liars, don't wait for me
Cause I'll get on all by myself
I've put millions of miles under my heels
and still too close to you I feel.
I am not your rolling wheels,
I am the highway.
I am not your carpet ride,
I am the sky.
I am not your blowing wind,
I am the lightning.
I am not your Autumn moon.
I am the night.
Yeah.
Friday, January 9, 2009
DO AS I DO
Some of us have said, and others of us have heard, and some of us have been told, and most of us now believe, that we are all individuals, perpendicular, that we are all different from one another, that we are not the same, that each and every one of us, is unique.
We probably heard this from our parents, or maybe we learned if from our teachers. We have definitely heard it from the media, the newspapers, the radio and television commercials, and the magazine advertisements. Marketers capitalize on their ability to convince us that we are different, or better, that we all need to be different, or best of all, that we all need to believe that we are different.
I don’t believe that crap for one second.
I am a huge skeptic of the Media Message. I think we all have more similarities between us than we have differences. I believe we do have more in common than we don’t. I know deep in my heart that we are definitely, positively, and impossibly connected to each other, and we are connected to each other in many visible ways, and so many, many more that are invisible, and impossible for most people to understand.
Our various minor and insignificant inconsistencies and differences don’t, and never will, outweigh our similarities… our parallels.
We probably heard this from our parents, or maybe we learned if from our teachers. We have definitely heard it from the media, the newspapers, the radio and television commercials, and the magazine advertisements. Marketers capitalize on their ability to convince us that we are different, or better, that we all need to be different, or best of all, that we all need to believe that we are different.
I don’t believe that crap for one second.
I am a huge skeptic of the Media Message. I think we all have more similarities between us than we have differences. I believe we do have more in common than we don’t. I know deep in my heart that we are definitely, positively, and impossibly connected to each other, and we are connected to each other in many visible ways, and so many, many more that are invisible, and impossible for most people to understand.
Our various minor and insignificant inconsistencies and differences don’t, and never will, outweigh our similarities… our parallels.
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