Well, there are a lot of reasons. For example, I don't have skill and knowledge on the subject. Or, perhaps more importantly...well, crazily enough, I'll explain it to you in a video. It's my first attempt, it's rough, and the truth is my lack of know-how probably shines through in just an embarrassing way, but that's OK.
So, for the first time:
The Beards, Bears, and Brian video channel on youtube:
I hope you all enjoyed this taste of who I am, and why I don't make videos...but I believe I'll try at least ONE more time after this to make a video, and see what you guys think. Who knows, maybe next time I'll have a script, and clear and cogent idea!
But probably not.
Thanks, as always, for reading! Have a great day, and check out my other self-referential satire such as "Why Men Suck at Dating: A Theory About Friendship" or "I Suck at Apologies".
Enjoy!
Beards are Beautiful
I was recently unlucky enough to meet a young woman who, without provocation or any real knowledge of who I am, deigned to call my beard 'ugly'. Without knowing me, without ever having experienced the bliss that IS beardhood herself, without any prior knowledge of the many situations my beard has saved me from, or the insults and slights it accepted in my name, she insulted my beard. She claimed it to be ugly. She claimed that the part of my face I consider most important to survive (far more so than my eyes, nose, throat, or anything else) was ugly, and she made the claim without understanding why it was so very wrong.
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| I FIND THIS UNACCEPTABLE |
You see, beards are more than just secondary sex characteristics. They're more than decorative facial art to accentuate or draw attention from various features. Beards are more than a sign of maturity, and more than a result of laziness...beards are a personal statement made to the entire world.
They say, "I'm going to be a man today, and every day I have this beard." They say, "I don't care about razors right now, I have too many beard-related things to attend to." They tell your peers and coworkers, "No, I don't want to come to the office viewing of "Bridget Jones' Diary", I want to go eat some unhealthy red meat while reminiscing about time spent in the woods." They say more in their silence than this strange beard-hating woman could say with a lifetime of words.
So...why would anyone consider them ugly, and seek to insult them?
The lady in question didn't mean serious offense. She simply commented that she didn't like beards, and that she thought mine wasn't good looking. This seriously surprised me since I had just trimmed it down, in order to look less intimidating (Many unbeareded men find us beard-folk frightening, so like a bear cooing to its cubs, we must do all we can to avoid accidentally frightening them). My beard was well groomed, and like a prize-winning bear (like a show-dog, but instead of a poodle, it's a giant bear) I had kept my beard in perfect condition. The mustache barely graced my top lip line, the hint of deep red in the base of the beard was showing a bit, enough to draw you in but not so much to seem flashy...my beard was in perfect shape.
I had spent time to make it more than a chin-curtain, or a soup-catcher. It no longer looked like it could be found on the face of a man who lives in a deep woods cabin and keeps pet raccoons as his only companions...it looked good. And then, of all times, she called it ugly.
I really didn't understand, and still don't. A beard is a great and wondrous thing. One of my favorite sites, The Beardly, put it best in some of their posts. They point out hat a man without a beard is just a boy, and a man without a beard never knows the true freedom that manhood can give. Perhaps their most poignant observation was that a man's very identity can be shaped by his beard.
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| TheBeardly.com is great, check them out! |
At that time, I didn't stand up for myself. I didn't stand up for my beard. I didn't even know what I COULD say in the face of such ignorance. But now, now that I've had time to heal from the ordeal, now that I've had a chance to think about myself, and who I am, and who my beard MAKES me, I've come up with my answer.
To her, and anyone, male or female, who besmirches beards, I have something very simple to say:
You will never know the beauty of a beard, and so you will never know how wrong you are to dislike them. Until you have felt the gentle brush of your beard-hairs scraping your chest as you chuckle, or until you've cleaned the stray crumbs of food from your glorious bushy mustache, you cannot know what it is to be a beard-wearer. You, who dislike beards, think they're something that a man grows when he grows tired of shaving, or because nature intends for it to be so...but you don't know.
A man doesn't grow a beard, a beard makes a man GROW.
To that woman, who believed my beard 'ugly', I hold no grudge. Rather, I pity her. For, if one does not know a beard, does not know and feel a beard, can one ever truly know oneself?
And that's what I'll leave you to think about. For now, I must go, my beard has decided that it's time to catch a moose with my bare hands, and tame it with my bare beard.
Have a good day, and stay beard-y.
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| This Beard Says, "Stay Classy," but it means Beard-y too. |
If you your own beard-stories or satire, leave it in the comments below! I respond to nearly every comment, so check back if you want a reply! And if you enjoyed THIS installment of BeardsBearsandBrian, check out similar works, such as "Fat People Have Superpowers" or "How a Choir Boy Becomes a Mountain Man".
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Old Habits Die Hard: Strip, Sprint, Dive
A little note: The following story involves me embarrassing myself, as well as a story that involves streaking (not by me!). Those who aren't interested in hearing about me embarrass myself, or about dumb college traditions, stop reading now! Those of you whose interest is now piqued....well, read on!
A few years ago, I worked for the Boy Scouts of America at a camp in the north woods of Wisconsin. I spent every summer away at camp, and much of the year WISHING to be there. As a result I spent a lot of my time ACTING as if I were a professional boy scout camp counselor...even at college, surrounded by people who thought that my scouting behaviors were a bit odd.
For example, I picked up mannerisms at this boy scout camp that even still follow me around: I get oddly nostalgic when I smell campfires. I fight (and sometimes fail to fight) the urge to burst into song whenever the word 'announcement' is used, no matter what the social setting. I refer to my paycheck as 'peanuts' and sometimes call my apartment a 'stump' when asked where I live. Most oddly, I panic and feel the need to sprint down hills while undressing at the sound of high pitched sirens. Please re-read that sentence so you have a good visual of me taking my clothes off and sprinting when just the right tone of siren goes off.
The first three behaviors I mentioned are unsurprising. They're basic, common habits of lots of ex-counselors, no matter where you've worked. Every scout camp I've been to has the longstanding tradition of opening and closing campfires, and every single scout I've met has the longstanding tradition of being oddly and somewhat dangerous obsessed with making campfires, and hence my nostalgia at the scent.
Secondly, every camp has some strange singing traditions, such as ours where the word 'announcements' was a cue to the staff to waste time for a while. It usually meant that the staff was busy somewhere else, or a scoutmaster was having a problem, but in any case the word 'announcements' always brings me back to where I would burst into song at the slightest signal, a reflex as uncontrollable as being ticklish, or kicking when the doctor smacks your knee.
Third and the habit that seems the least likely to fade over time, we were not allowed to discuss our pay with the scouts nor our housing (a row of bungalows or old broken-in cabins) so we were paid in 'peanuts' and lived in 'stumps'.
The last behavior, that of disrobing, sprinting, and finding a local hill to run down (at the camp, the whole behavior was sometimes given the moniker 'strip-sprint-dive' for short), is a bit more difficult to explain, and much harder to convince others isn't some sort of mental deficiency.
At the camp, whenever a scout was missing during a swim or boating check, called buddy checks, there would be a signal to the east and west waterfront groups, both of which had enormous and unbelievably loud sirens. The rising wail would be heard for literally miles around, and was a call for the staff to get ready for an emergency, and the campers to sprint to their campsites.
Eve if they were just practice sirens, or if it was just a scout who forgot to sign out and was easily found, whenever a siren went off the same basic thing would happen; The scouts would sprint to their campsites, count their number, and send a messenger to the main staff area alerting us if anyone was missing, and who they were, as well as where they were last seen.
The staff, meanwhile, would all sprint to the waterfront, where we would perform (as macabre as it sounds) rescue dives, where you do a deep dive into murky water, and wave your hands in front of you, open your eyes, and swim as far forward along the bottom as possible, trying to find any possible missing campers, just in case they DID begin to drown. To do the whole exercise right, you have to not risk drowning yourself, so you are in just your underpants (female staff aren't supposed to be part of the diving, for obvious regulations). Generally, you are also usually out of breath, running through the woods from wherever you were working before this and, after only 1-2 dives, you're freezing cold and tired from diving down and up in deep water. You are also completely full of adrenaline. Overall, it's a rather traumatic and oddly invigorating experience, especially since we had never lost a scout for real, through my several years of false alarms and scary drills.
Perhaps now you're getting a sense of why this behavior sticks: It's a safety reflex, it's as much a conditioned response as a firefighter launching into the truck and taking off at their own piercingly loud signal, and no matter how far I go, that particularly sound of a siren still sets me off. I cannot seem to shake the strange instantaneous response to certain siren sounds of dropping what I'm doing, finding a hill to run down (the waterfront, obviously, is the lowest elevation in the camp) and stripping into my underpants. No, I don't always actually fully strip down and run anymore, but there is always that panicked moment of confusion when I realize I've taken my shirt off, or began unbuttoning it, and I look around to realize I'm not in the woods of Wisconsin, and that my actions seem quite strange to everyone around me. And if you think I'm exagerrating, let me tell you a story.
That brings me to the real reason you're here to read; a brief and extremely embarrassing anecdote.
In 2010, I was at college at a big party. I was the fraternity social chair and I was awesome at it. I was schmoozing with the guests, I was partying with the best of them, and I was having a great time. I wandered from room to room like a cordial host making small talk and bro-talk (small-talk for bros, where you yell loudly how 'rad' and 'badass' everyone around is, instead of the weather or minor local current events). I watched a half dozen uncomfortably close dancing partners, and I walked out of the dancing room only to witness over and over embarrassed couples pretending they weren't making out under a staircase, or behind an open door. Basically, normal Frat-Party-Time.
As I walked back onto the dance floor, waving like a self-important idiot to everyone around (like the queen, but less classy), a new song started up and the intro had a rising and wailing siren sound. Maybe it was the fact that it was 1:00 AM, or maybe it was the few beers I'd had (social chair isn't allowed to get drunk, though: he has to run the event, so I wasn't particularly inebriated), but for some reason, I reacted exactly like I had with the scout camp.
I pushed through the crowd, ran to the door, and ripped off my shirt and began to sprint out the front door. I had my pants around my knees when I suddenly realized what I was doing, and turned around sheepishly. And, much to my surprise, instead of a hundred or so random people I barely knew sitting and mocking me, I saw about 15 others in similar states of undress.
I was about to ask them if THEY worked at a boy scout camp when one yelled, "BOULDER RUN!" (a streaking tradition where you run to the boulder at the center of campus) and threw down his boxers, tossed his shoes over his shoulder, and ran around me blindly into the night.
I didn't know quite what to do, since I was now the only person outside NOT completely naked, but I didn't feel like a Boulder run (because sprinting naked around a college campus isn't really my style) so I zipped up my pants, pulled the shirt back on, and walked back into the house. The crowd stared at me, and I realized that I had no explanation for why I had been the first person to apparently decide to streak. Instead of something clever or daring, I pushed my way back inside. Someone clapped me on the shoulder and exclaimed, "That was hilarious, I can't believe you got them to do a boulder run. Awesome prank." Though it wasn't my intent, I didn't correct anyone, and I wandered back upstairs to find myself a place to sit down and get away. After all, once you've taken off your parents in front of a few hundred strangers, it's probably time to call it a night.
A few years ago, I worked for the Boy Scouts of America at a camp in the north woods of Wisconsin. I spent every summer away at camp, and much of the year WISHING to be there. As a result I spent a lot of my time ACTING as if I were a professional boy scout camp counselor...even at college, surrounded by people who thought that my scouting behaviors were a bit odd.
For example, I picked up mannerisms at this boy scout camp that even still follow me around: I get oddly nostalgic when I smell campfires. I fight (and sometimes fail to fight) the urge to burst into song whenever the word 'announcement' is used, no matter what the social setting. I refer to my paycheck as 'peanuts' and sometimes call my apartment a 'stump' when asked where I live. Most oddly, I panic and feel the need to sprint down hills while undressing at the sound of high pitched sirens. Please re-read that sentence so you have a good visual of me taking my clothes off and sprinting when just the right tone of siren goes off.
The first three behaviors I mentioned are unsurprising. They're basic, common habits of lots of ex-counselors, no matter where you've worked. Every scout camp I've been to has the longstanding tradition of opening and closing campfires, and every single scout I've met has the longstanding tradition of being oddly and somewhat dangerous obsessed with making campfires, and hence my nostalgia at the scent.
Secondly, every camp has some strange singing traditions, such as ours where the word 'announcements' was a cue to the staff to waste time for a while. It usually meant that the staff was busy somewhere else, or a scoutmaster was having a problem, but in any case the word 'announcements' always brings me back to where I would burst into song at the slightest signal, a reflex as uncontrollable as being ticklish, or kicking when the doctor smacks your knee.
Third and the habit that seems the least likely to fade over time, we were not allowed to discuss our pay with the scouts nor our housing (a row of bungalows or old broken-in cabins) so we were paid in 'peanuts' and lived in 'stumps'.
The last behavior, that of disrobing, sprinting, and finding a local hill to run down (at the camp, the whole behavior was sometimes given the moniker 'strip-sprint-dive' for short), is a bit more difficult to explain, and much harder to convince others isn't some sort of mental deficiency.
At the camp, whenever a scout was missing during a swim or boating check, called buddy checks, there would be a signal to the east and west waterfront groups, both of which had enormous and unbelievably loud sirens. The rising wail would be heard for literally miles around, and was a call for the staff to get ready for an emergency, and the campers to sprint to their campsites.
Eve if they were just practice sirens, or if it was just a scout who forgot to sign out and was easily found, whenever a siren went off the same basic thing would happen; The scouts would sprint to their campsites, count their number, and send a messenger to the main staff area alerting us if anyone was missing, and who they were, as well as where they were last seen.
The staff, meanwhile, would all sprint to the waterfront, where we would perform (as macabre as it sounds) rescue dives, where you do a deep dive into murky water, and wave your hands in front of you, open your eyes, and swim as far forward along the bottom as possible, trying to find any possible missing campers, just in case they DID begin to drown. To do the whole exercise right, you have to not risk drowning yourself, so you are in just your underpants (female staff aren't supposed to be part of the diving, for obvious regulations). Generally, you are also usually out of breath, running through the woods from wherever you were working before this and, after only 1-2 dives, you're freezing cold and tired from diving down and up in deep water. You are also completely full of adrenaline. Overall, it's a rather traumatic and oddly invigorating experience, especially since we had never lost a scout for real, through my several years of false alarms and scary drills.
Perhaps now you're getting a sense of why this behavior sticks: It's a safety reflex, it's as much a conditioned response as a firefighter launching into the truck and taking off at their own piercingly loud signal, and no matter how far I go, that particularly sound of a siren still sets me off. I cannot seem to shake the strange instantaneous response to certain siren sounds of dropping what I'm doing, finding a hill to run down (the waterfront, obviously, is the lowest elevation in the camp) and stripping into my underpants. No, I don't always actually fully strip down and run anymore, but there is always that panicked moment of confusion when I realize I've taken my shirt off, or began unbuttoning it, and I look around to realize I'm not in the woods of Wisconsin, and that my actions seem quite strange to everyone around me. And if you think I'm exagerrating, let me tell you a story.
* * *
That brings me to the real reason you're here to read; a brief and extremely embarrassing anecdote.
In 2010, I was at college at a big party. I was the fraternity social chair and I was awesome at it. I was schmoozing with the guests, I was partying with the best of them, and I was having a great time. I wandered from room to room like a cordial host making small talk and bro-talk (small-talk for bros, where you yell loudly how 'rad' and 'badass' everyone around is, instead of the weather or minor local current events). I watched a half dozen uncomfortably close dancing partners, and I walked out of the dancing room only to witness over and over embarrassed couples pretending they weren't making out under a staircase, or behind an open door. Basically, normal Frat-Party-Time.
As I walked back onto the dance floor, waving like a self-important idiot to everyone around (like the queen, but less classy), a new song started up and the intro had a rising and wailing siren sound. Maybe it was the fact that it was 1:00 AM, or maybe it was the few beers I'd had (social chair isn't allowed to get drunk, though: he has to run the event, so I wasn't particularly inebriated), but for some reason, I reacted exactly like I had with the scout camp.
I pushed through the crowd, ran to the door, and ripped off my shirt and began to sprint out the front door. I had my pants around my knees when I suddenly realized what I was doing, and turned around sheepishly. And, much to my surprise, instead of a hundred or so random people I barely knew sitting and mocking me, I saw about 15 others in similar states of undress.
I was about to ask them if THEY worked at a boy scout camp when one yelled, "BOULDER RUN!" (a streaking tradition where you run to the boulder at the center of campus) and threw down his boxers, tossed his shoes over his shoulder, and ran around me blindly into the night.
I didn't know quite what to do, since I was now the only person outside NOT completely naked, but I didn't feel like a Boulder run (because sprinting naked around a college campus isn't really my style) so I zipped up my pants, pulled the shirt back on, and walked back into the house. The crowd stared at me, and I realized that I had no explanation for why I had been the first person to apparently decide to streak. Instead of something clever or daring, I pushed my way back inside. Someone clapped me on the shoulder and exclaimed, "That was hilarious, I can't believe you got them to do a boulder run. Awesome prank." Though it wasn't my intent, I didn't correct anyone, and I wandered back upstairs to find myself a place to sit down and get away. After all, once you've taken off your parents in front of a few hundred strangers, it's probably time to call it a night.
* * *
Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! I always love hearing feedback about anything, from the site setup to the story I just told! If you want to read some more of my silly stories, check out "Shut Your Trap and Sing!" or "How Lightsabers Defeated Depression". WWJD? Religion in Politics
A bit off from my normal theme today, I'd like to talk about something current, and important to a lot of my friends and readers: Religion in politics.
I'd like to be up front and admit out of the gate that I'm not religious myself, but I'd also like to note that I don't inherently dislike religion. I have never in my entire life felt as at home and comfortable and loved as I did growing up in my wonderful suburban church. Through my church I had an extended family that loved me, my family, and time and again helped us out. They helped me get my Eagle Scout award in the boy scouts, they were a major driving force in the international education philanthropy I was a part of in middle school, and they were always loving and accepting. Basically, they're the reason I became a professional boyscout scientist instead of an aggressive dropout without morality (picture a less insane and fatter Charlie Sheen).
They taught me the phrase "WWJD", or "What Would Jesus Do?" And that's a question I ask a lot, recently.
What WOULD Jesus do? I'm not specifically talking about the 2012 United States Presidential election, where one Christian (Obama) is against another Christian, and a Mormon more specifically (Romney). However, I think that with the importance of religion in the next election, it's probably relevant to consider as we move on that neither individual is an atheist or Muslim, as many poorly researched propaganda peddlers claim. It's also probably important to point out that if you seriously still think he's a "secret Muslim", hiding his beliefs in order to take over America using secularism, you're an ignorant twit whose understanding of religion, and basic logic is on par with the understanding of a rather slow child.
No, for better or for worse, Romney and Obama are both Christians. They both attend church every week. On national television, we've seen them lead and join in prayer. They love ending speeches with 'God Bless America'. So, though we hope they enforce the separation of church and state, we also hope that their own personal ideologies are compatible with kindness and generosity, important virtues in a possible president.
When it comes to American politics, it's not unusual to hear someone ASK, 'What would Jesus do?' (Well, it should be unusual, but that's because somehow 'separation of church and state' has become 'HOW separate, because we're totally unwilling to keep them completely separate.... cough cough republicans cough cough')
Well, I'll start by listing a couple things I don't really recall from the bible that many highly political people seem to think Jesus would've done. I don't recall Jesus ever picketing funerals (The Westboro Baptist Church). I'm relatively certain he didn't have much to say on abortion, since it wasn't really a well known option in his time, but I am damned certain he wouldn't be blowing up abortion clinics (Such as the "Lambs of Christ" or the movement as a whole). He had a lot to say, but very little of it was related to inflicting violence. He said he came as 'the sword' (Matthew 10:34), not to bring peace, but that doesn't tend to be the focus of the rest of his teachings. If it were, he'd be less often depicted as angelic, and more like the religious version of the terminator.
Hell, even as an agnostic atheist, I can enjoy most of what the guy supposedly said. You don't have to believe he was the son of God to see the merit in "Love your enemies" (Matthew 5:43) or the 'golden rule' of " do to others what you would have them do to you" (Matthew 7:12). He basically pioneered the teachings of "Don't treat people like garbage" and "Stop being assholes to each other." It doesn't take a religious believer to understand why that might be a reasonable idea.
And here's where my real question, and my rant, begins.
Where the hell did all the angry and hateful religious shit come from? Pardon my french, but when did 'Devout Christian' become 'Intolerant Douchebag'? When did 'religious' come to mean the same thing as 'science denial'? And when, WHEN, did it become acceptable for anyone running for a political office to decide that their religion is now THE religion? I mean, I don't want to go all "Godwin's Law" here but....the last time I remember reading about a leader taking over and enforcing his religious beliefs on a country, it ended pretty poorly. (For those of you not following along, I'm basically comparing Romney to Hitler for illustrative purposes, making my point through hyperbole, though I understand it's not a direct or reasonable comparison).
Seriously, I have to ask: What would Jesus do? This is the guy who hung out with whores, he spent time with the homeless and the drunks, he told his followers to give up their money and possessions, and expected them to listen, and be good people for it. So how is THAT guy, the "No money, kindness for all, love one another" person being quoted by people who seem to hate everything he had to say? I mean, what bible verse did I miss where Jesus told his followers, "Also, hate gay people, and marginalize them, because Love as a concept is super gross when it involves Gays. I know in 1 Corinthians 13:13 I said love is the greatest thing, but only when it's straight love. Otherwise, not good."
I can't even imagine how the Jesus that I see in the bible would react to someone like Mitt Romney, or the socially conservative political right.
"I love Jesus" said Mitt Romney probably sometime in his life.
"Really?" said imaginary Jesus, "Because it APPEARS that you just love yourself, and giving me a bad name. I said to give to Caesar what is his (taxes), I said to treat others with kindness (obamacare), I said help the poor (welfare and obamacare), and I said to not judge others (gay marriage, abortion, etc). I didn't say hate everybody you disagree with, you pompous manipulative little ass."
Wow, getting a bit aggressive there, eh Imaginary Jesus? Hey, that's the spirit imaginary Jesus, you tell him, I understand your frustration.
So it all comes back to that question I was taught in church, and that question I think we need to consider right now. What Would Jesus Do? Really, WWJD? Probably not paint signs telling everyone "God Hates Fags". Probably not try to enforce on the whole country the religious beliefs of only one part of the country. He'd probably avoid giving MORE money and MORE power to the rich while ignoring the poor. In fact, if I recall correctly (and I usually do), Jesus was PRETTY CLEAR ON THE WHOLE "HELP THE POOR" THING. Heck, that's a pretty clear message during the WHOLE BIBLE.
THIS is why all of us non-religious folks, and plenty of religious folks, are upset! Because when we hear someone say they're a very religious christian, and they care about others, they should ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING TO SHOW THAT. How will cutting funding to healthcare programs benefit the poor or sick? Is it more important to have a free market in every facet of American life than to save the lives of thousands of starving children? This isn't a goddamned hard question, folks. "Do we protect children from starvation?" YES. The answer isn't, 'if their parents are hard working taxpayers with strong christian morals, they won't need protection.' The answer is FUCKING YES. FEED THE HUNGRY, CLOTHE THE POOR, and try to be good people!
In this election, vote however you want. If you're religious, feel free to vote based on that, I can't stop you. But I want you to consider one VERY important thing...which interpretation of the bible, of Jesus, of God himself do you think is the one that should influence the leader of the country? If you're really asking yourself the questions Christians say they ask, then what do you think? What WOULD Jesus do? Would he tell us only SOME people deserve love, respect, and fair treatment?
As I finish up, let's consider a few things never said by Jesus:
"Marginalize the poor!", "Screw the little guy, he needs to just work harder!", "Ban anyone who disagrees with my religious beliefs!", "Kill the queers!", and "Rebuild America as the theocracy our founding fathers probably really wanted."
I'm also pretty sure Jesus never said 'God Hates Fags' or anything about America whatsoever since it wasn't discovered (aside from by the native Americans) quite yet.
I'm pretty sure he never said 'Gays shouldn't marry' and I'm pretty sure he never said, 'Taxes are bad because the rich can't get richer!' He was a Jew in the middle east who gave out free healthcare to the poor, didn't judge those of lesser social class, encouraged working for philanthropies and the community, and he discouraged ever being hateful or violent. He said a lot about the world that might be worth listening to. But none of it encouraged the hateful bigotry towards gays, the marginalization of immigrants, the abuse of the working poor for corporate profits, or the enforcement of one religious belief system on those who don't believe in it.
What would Jesus do? I really don't know, but I can be pretty DAMNED sure he wouldn't vote for someone like Mitt Romney, and wouldn't support his name being used to spread intolerance and hate.
Thanks for reading, and I know this isn't quite as comedy oriented as what I normally post. However, if you like this style or theme, let me know in the poll to the right, and check out some of my other thoughts in posts like "Jerks Finish Last" and "Kid Rules to Improve the World".
I love to hear your thoughts, feel free to leave a comment below or follow me on Facebook and Twitter for more information and updates!
Thanks,
Brian
I'd like to be up front and admit out of the gate that I'm not religious myself, but I'd also like to note that I don't inherently dislike religion. I have never in my entire life felt as at home and comfortable and loved as I did growing up in my wonderful suburban church. Through my church I had an extended family that loved me, my family, and time and again helped us out. They helped me get my Eagle Scout award in the boy scouts, they were a major driving force in the international education philanthropy I was a part of in middle school, and they were always loving and accepting. Basically, they're the reason I became a professional boyscout scientist instead of an aggressive dropout without morality (picture a less insane and fatter Charlie Sheen).
They taught me the phrase "WWJD", or "What Would Jesus Do?" And that's a question I ask a lot, recently.
What WOULD Jesus do? I'm not specifically talking about the 2012 United States Presidential election, where one Christian (Obama) is against another Christian, and a Mormon more specifically (Romney). However, I think that with the importance of religion in the next election, it's probably relevant to consider as we move on that neither individual is an atheist or Muslim, as many poorly researched propaganda peddlers claim. It's also probably important to point out that if you seriously still think he's a "secret Muslim", hiding his beliefs in order to take over America using secularism, you're an ignorant twit whose understanding of religion, and basic logic is on par with the understanding of a rather slow child.
No, for better or for worse, Romney and Obama are both Christians. They both attend church every week. On national television, we've seen them lead and join in prayer. They love ending speeches with 'God Bless America'. So, though we hope they enforce the separation of church and state, we also hope that their own personal ideologies are compatible with kindness and generosity, important virtues in a possible president.
When it comes to American politics, it's not unusual to hear someone ASK, 'What would Jesus do?' (Well, it should be unusual, but that's because somehow 'separation of church and state' has become 'HOW separate, because we're totally unwilling to keep them completely separate.... cough cough republicans cough cough')
Well, I'll start by listing a couple things I don't really recall from the bible that many highly political people seem to think Jesus would've done. I don't recall Jesus ever picketing funerals (The Westboro Baptist Church). I'm relatively certain he didn't have much to say on abortion, since it wasn't really a well known option in his time, but I am damned certain he wouldn't be blowing up abortion clinics (Such as the "Lambs of Christ" or the movement as a whole). He had a lot to say, but very little of it was related to inflicting violence. He said he came as 'the sword' (Matthew 10:34), not to bring peace, but that doesn't tend to be the focus of the rest of his teachings. If it were, he'd be less often depicted as angelic, and more like the religious version of the terminator.
Hell, even as an agnostic atheist, I can enjoy most of what the guy supposedly said. You don't have to believe he was the son of God to see the merit in "Love your enemies" (Matthew 5:43) or the 'golden rule' of " do to others what you would have them do to you" (Matthew 7:12). He basically pioneered the teachings of "Don't treat people like garbage" and "Stop being assholes to each other." It doesn't take a religious believer to understand why that might be a reasonable idea.
And here's where my real question, and my rant, begins.
Where the hell did all the angry and hateful religious shit come from? Pardon my french, but when did 'Devout Christian' become 'Intolerant Douchebag'? When did 'religious' come to mean the same thing as 'science denial'? And when, WHEN, did it become acceptable for anyone running for a political office to decide that their religion is now THE religion? I mean, I don't want to go all "Godwin's Law" here but....the last time I remember reading about a leader taking over and enforcing his religious beliefs on a country, it ended pretty poorly. (For those of you not following along, I'm basically comparing Romney to Hitler for illustrative purposes, making my point through hyperbole, though I understand it's not a direct or reasonable comparison).
Seriously, I have to ask: What would Jesus do? This is the guy who hung out with whores, he spent time with the homeless and the drunks, he told his followers to give up their money and possessions, and expected them to listen, and be good people for it. So how is THAT guy, the "No money, kindness for all, love one another" person being quoted by people who seem to hate everything he had to say? I mean, what bible verse did I miss where Jesus told his followers, "Also, hate gay people, and marginalize them, because Love as a concept is super gross when it involves Gays. I know in 1 Corinthians 13:13 I said love is the greatest thing, but only when it's straight love. Otherwise, not good."
I can't even imagine how the Jesus that I see in the bible would react to someone like Mitt Romney, or the socially conservative political right.
"I love Jesus" said Mitt Romney probably sometime in his life.
"Really?" said imaginary Jesus, "Because it APPEARS that you just love yourself, and giving me a bad name. I said to give to Caesar what is his (taxes), I said to treat others with kindness (obamacare), I said help the poor (welfare and obamacare), and I said to not judge others (gay marriage, abortion, etc). I didn't say hate everybody you disagree with, you pompous manipulative little ass."
Wow, getting a bit aggressive there, eh Imaginary Jesus? Hey, that's the spirit imaginary Jesus, you tell him, I understand your frustration.
So it all comes back to that question I was taught in church, and that question I think we need to consider right now. What Would Jesus Do? Really, WWJD? Probably not paint signs telling everyone "God Hates Fags". Probably not try to enforce on the whole country the religious beliefs of only one part of the country. He'd probably avoid giving MORE money and MORE power to the rich while ignoring the poor. In fact, if I recall correctly (and I usually do), Jesus was PRETTY CLEAR ON THE WHOLE "HELP THE POOR" THING. Heck, that's a pretty clear message during the WHOLE BIBLE.
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| I can't find the original citation for the photo, but it's too good not to include. |
THIS is why all of us non-religious folks, and plenty of religious folks, are upset! Because when we hear someone say they're a very religious christian, and they care about others, they should ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING TO SHOW THAT. How will cutting funding to healthcare programs benefit the poor or sick? Is it more important to have a free market in every facet of American life than to save the lives of thousands of starving children? This isn't a goddamned hard question, folks. "Do we protect children from starvation?" YES. The answer isn't, 'if their parents are hard working taxpayers with strong christian morals, they won't need protection.' The answer is FUCKING YES. FEED THE HUNGRY, CLOTHE THE POOR, and try to be good people!
In this election, vote however you want. If you're religious, feel free to vote based on that, I can't stop you. But I want you to consider one VERY important thing...which interpretation of the bible, of Jesus, of God himself do you think is the one that should influence the leader of the country? If you're really asking yourself the questions Christians say they ask, then what do you think? What WOULD Jesus do? Would he tell us only SOME people deserve love, respect, and fair treatment?
As I finish up, let's consider a few things never said by Jesus:
"Marginalize the poor!", "Screw the little guy, he needs to just work harder!", "Ban anyone who disagrees with my religious beliefs!", "Kill the queers!", and "Rebuild America as the theocracy our founding fathers probably really wanted."
I'm also pretty sure Jesus never said 'God Hates Fags' or anything about America whatsoever since it wasn't discovered (aside from by the native Americans) quite yet.
I'm pretty sure he never said 'Gays shouldn't marry' and I'm pretty sure he never said, 'Taxes are bad because the rich can't get richer!' He was a Jew in the middle east who gave out free healthcare to the poor, didn't judge those of lesser social class, encouraged working for philanthropies and the community, and he discouraged ever being hateful or violent. He said a lot about the world that might be worth listening to. But none of it encouraged the hateful bigotry towards gays, the marginalization of immigrants, the abuse of the working poor for corporate profits, or the enforcement of one religious belief system on those who don't believe in it.
What would Jesus do? I really don't know, but I can be pretty DAMNED sure he wouldn't vote for someone like Mitt Romney, and wouldn't support his name being used to spread intolerance and hate.
Thanks for reading, and I know this isn't quite as comedy oriented as what I normally post. However, if you like this style or theme, let me know in the poll to the right, and check out some of my other thoughts in posts like "Jerks Finish Last" and "Kid Rules to Improve the World".
I love to hear your thoughts, feel free to leave a comment below or follow me on Facebook and Twitter for more information and updates!
Thanks,
Brian
Does a Bear Shit in the Woods?
In 2007, I was working for the Boy Scouts of America at a boy scout camp in northern Wisconsin. I was handling the shop, basically a store manager 1/2 the time, and a park ranger 1/2 the time. My duties were pretty simple; Man the shop, try to discourage any stealing, and still keep the boy scout mindset going, as well as keep the kids entertained and happy. It was a simple though time consuming job, and it was my first experience after graduating high school. I was pretty convinced that if THIS was adult life, I was in for a treat.
I was in Wisconsin, in the northern woods, during a summer where there was sighting after sighting of bear(s) in the area, and my job was to stay safely and pleasantly inside during the hottest part the day, out of harm's way. I loved my coworkers, I worked for peanuts, and I was outdoors enough to warrant a truly epic beard.
Every week there was a drill to prepare for if we ever lost a scout. We would turn on a loud siren, every scout and scoutmaster (adult supervisor) would run back to their campsites, gather up and take a roll-call, and we the camp staff would run to our main office, get a duty of some sort, and go run to every campsite either to confirm the numbers. It was between a half and two mile run round trip to the campsites, in midsummer, at full speed over hills and through the forest. It was sometimes unpleasant, and depending on which campsite you were assigned to check, possibly a difficult and tiring run over bad terrain. Luckily for me, that final week of 2007, I was assigned the job of running to the very closest campsite, on a relatively flat and well-tread path, and the weather was nice and cool. I remember even telling my boss that, "Sweet, close site! This'll be a cinch." I taunted the fates, and should have known better.
Only around a thousand feet along the path, my head down to watch for roots jutting out of the ground, I slammed into what appeared to be a very large dog. So, I naturally muttered a thousand tiny apologies, and backed up, and knelt down to see if it was ok. And when it turned around and was instead of a very large dog actually a small bear, I promptly fell on my ass, scooted backwards like a crab, gibbering like a wounded baboon and making various unintelligible crying noises. (Visualize a large man possessed by a feminine demon, and then make it even more pathetic)
I sat there, now only a few feet away from a small black bear (small bears seem surprisingly large when you're faced with one) sprawled backwards in my crisp boy scout uniform. I pondered all the many stories I'd heard of bears that were surprised by a foolish hiker, and promptly mauled. I mulled, in that short second of time, over how many people a year are attacked when the bear is the aggressor, much less when they slam into the bear and bother it. I reflected on the likelihood of me being promptly eaten, or merely ravaged, and left to die while my boss angrily waited for me to return from the campsite, and prepared to insult me for my lack of speed, and inability to run even a half mile without tiring. I thought about ALL of this and more in those brief seconds before a seemingly inevitable attack because I forgot the most important fact about wildlife.
"It is far more scared of you than you are of it."
In my case, I was so terrified that I released a few drops of pee into my boxers, so frightened my voice shot into the soprano range and I seemed to lose even a HINT of speaking ability, so mind-numbingly scared that I didn't have the presence of mind to even stand up and get away. And still the bear was considerably more afraid than me.
It looked like this, except instead of a lion cub,
picture me, and make it a black bear.
The bear gave me a horrified look, and began to squeal like a piglet. It was literally the strangest sound I have ever heard. The bear which had just turned to see me for a half second, locked eyes, squealed incredibly loudly, and proceeded to violently poop itself. It was in such a hurry to get away it immediately sprinted face first into a birch tree along the path, fell over onto its side, squealed again, and like a cartoon character, ran so fast it couldn't maintain traction with the ground, its legs repeatedly skittering around as if on ice. It fled the path, mewling and crying out the entire way as it rushed off into the woods, while fear induced craps continued to drop from its retreating furry bum.
I stood up and didn't know exactly what to do. Utterly perplexed, I just sat still for a few moments before remembering I was still supposed to be on my way to the campsite. Dazedly I ran to the site quickly, and finding no serious issues, trotted back to the main staff office.
Everyone stared at me oddly as I walked in the door. I was getting prepared to blurt out my story when someone butted in and yelled, "What's that?" while pointing at my boot. At that exact moment a powerful stench met my nostrils in the enclosed indoor space.
I looked down, to see the fear induced projectile bear poop that the poor creature had fear-crapped out literally covering my entire right boot. I stared back up, and said, "It's bear shit." Sufficiently shocked by my statement, everyone quieted, and I recounted my tale to a suddenly fascinated room. When I mentioned the bear, I made sure to ignore its size as I explained my situation. There were appropriate gasps of surprise and impressed faces as I lightly embellished my tale to make me sound less like a scared little girl. I held their attention to the end, proudly stating, "And I just got up and finished my job."
Some young, high-pitched coworker asked me, "Were you scared? I mean, were you scared of it too? The bear?"
I puffed up my chest, and was prepared to lie my ass off when my boss answered truthfully for me. He held up his hands and shrugged his shoulders. "Does a bear shit in the woods?"
Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy! Feel free to leave a comment below, a question, or vote in the poll to the right! It will help me know what you guys do or do not want to see on the blog, and tailor my writing more for you guys. Also, let me know if you like the changes I've made to the site layout! I've tried to make it a little bit easier to navigate, and clearer to find things on.
If you liked this sort of story, check out "Stu: My Bro-bama" or "Choir Boy to Mountain Man".
Thanks for reading, and hit the 'share' buttons below, of check me out on Facebook and Twitter.
I was in Wisconsin, in the northern woods, during a summer where there was sighting after sighting of bear(s) in the area, and my job was to stay safely and pleasantly inside during the hottest part the day, out of harm's way. I loved my coworkers, I worked for peanuts, and I was outdoors enough to warrant a truly epic beard.
 |
| My Scouting Years, with Poorly Managed (though unbelievably thick) Beard |
Only around a thousand feet along the path, my head down to watch for roots jutting out of the ground, I slammed into what appeared to be a very large dog. So, I naturally muttered a thousand tiny apologies, and backed up, and knelt down to see if it was ok. And when it turned around and was instead of a very large dog actually a small bear, I promptly fell on my ass, scooted backwards like a crab, gibbering like a wounded baboon and making various unintelligible crying noises. (Visualize a large man possessed by a feminine demon, and then make it even more pathetic)
I sat there, now only a few feet away from a small black bear (small bears seem surprisingly large when you're faced with one) sprawled backwards in my crisp boy scout uniform. I pondered all the many stories I'd heard of bears that were surprised by a foolish hiker, and promptly mauled. I mulled, in that short second of time, over how many people a year are attacked when the bear is the aggressor, much less when they slam into the bear and bother it. I reflected on the likelihood of me being promptly eaten, or merely ravaged, and left to die while my boss angrily waited for me to return from the campsite, and prepared to insult me for my lack of speed, and inability to run even a half mile without tiring. I thought about ALL of this and more in those brief seconds before a seemingly inevitable attack because I forgot the most important fact about wildlife.
"It is far more scared of you than you are of it."
In my case, I was so terrified that I released a few drops of pee into my boxers, so frightened my voice shot into the soprano range and I seemed to lose even a HINT of speaking ability, so mind-numbingly scared that I didn't have the presence of mind to even stand up and get away. And still the bear was considerably more afraid than me.
(You might want to turn your volume down, the original video has someone adding sound effects for the bear and it's loud.....though probably accurate to how the bear feels)
It looked like this, except instead of a lion cub,
picture me, and make it a black bear.
The bear gave me a horrified look, and began to squeal like a piglet. It was literally the strangest sound I have ever heard. The bear which had just turned to see me for a half second, locked eyes, squealed incredibly loudly, and proceeded to violently poop itself. It was in such a hurry to get away it immediately sprinted face first into a birch tree along the path, fell over onto its side, squealed again, and like a cartoon character, ran so fast it couldn't maintain traction with the ground, its legs repeatedly skittering around as if on ice. It fled the path, mewling and crying out the entire way as it rushed off into the woods, while fear induced craps continued to drop from its retreating furry bum.
I stood up and didn't know exactly what to do. Utterly perplexed, I just sat still for a few moments before remembering I was still supposed to be on my way to the campsite. Dazedly I ran to the site quickly, and finding no serious issues, trotted back to the main staff office.
Everyone stared at me oddly as I walked in the door. I was getting prepared to blurt out my story when someone butted in and yelled, "What's that?" while pointing at my boot. At that exact moment a powerful stench met my nostrils in the enclosed indoor space.
I looked down, to see the fear induced projectile bear poop that the poor creature had fear-crapped out literally covering my entire right boot. I stared back up, and said, "It's bear shit." Sufficiently shocked by my statement, everyone quieted, and I recounted my tale to a suddenly fascinated room. When I mentioned the bear, I made sure to ignore its size as I explained my situation. There were appropriate gasps of surprise and impressed faces as I lightly embellished my tale to make me sound less like a scared little girl. I held their attention to the end, proudly stating, "And I just got up and finished my job."
Some young, high-pitched coworker asked me, "Were you scared? I mean, were you scared of it too? The bear?"
I puffed up my chest, and was prepared to lie my ass off when my boss answered truthfully for me. He held up his hands and shrugged his shoulders. "Does a bear shit in the woods?"
Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy! Feel free to leave a comment below, a question, or vote in the poll to the right! It will help me know what you guys do or do not want to see on the blog, and tailor my writing more for you guys. Also, let me know if you like the changes I've made to the site layout! I've tried to make it a little bit easier to navigate, and clearer to find things on.
If you liked this sort of story, check out "Stu: My Bro-bama" or "Choir Boy to Mountain Man".
Thanks for reading, and hit the 'share' buttons below, of check me out on Facebook and Twitter.
Site Update Post!
Hey folks! I thought now would be a great opportunity to tell you guys about a few changes happening for BeardsBearsAndBrian (otherwise known by its apparent appellation BB+B, or 3B).
So, I'm gonna briefly let you guys know about some places to find me if you're interested in staying up to date on updates, a few site changes and visual changes, and a couple minor changes still off in the future.
I've gotten a twitter! And a facebook! Not for me, I mean, I had those, but for BB+B! I'll be posting updates and site info on these guys, so check them out and follow or subscribe!
Twitter: HERE!
Facebook: HERE!
I'm trying to fix up the look of the blog! I've made many changes recently, but I'm hoping to actually get together with people who know website design and technology, and improve the visuals of the blog. That includes new pictures probably, or a new banner, or similar things as well as changing the structure of the page. So, I'd love to hear your thoughts, which brings me to ANOTHER change!
I'm adding a poll feature to the right side of the page, where I'll be asking occasional questions. Things like, "What do you want to hear about" and "What's your favorite story" and whatnot. It should be fun, so check THAT out too!
I'm adding a new section as well! It's going to be a Frequently Asked Questions section, so you can maybe figure things out that you don't know yet! Yay!
Lastly, I'm updating something else...my update plans! I've heard your comments, and I think you're right. A more regular update schedule WOULD help you keep actively interested and aware for my musings. How astute an observation! And yes, I will be adding a formal schedule for updates in the near future. I can't do it quite yet, since I'm trying to figure out the frequency, which takes a bit more planning. For now, check out the changes so far, check out the twitter and facebook, check out the new polls, and as always:
Thanks for reading, and I love hearing your comments. I try to respond personally to every comment I get, so feel free to ask questions, I might even answer them!
Thanks guys,
Brian
So, I'm gonna briefly let you guys know about some places to find me if you're interested in staying up to date on updates, a few site changes and visual changes, and a couple minor changes still off in the future.
I've gotten a twitter! And a facebook! Not for me, I mean, I had those, but for BB+B! I'll be posting updates and site info on these guys, so check them out and follow or subscribe!
Twitter: HERE!
Facebook: HERE!
I'm trying to fix up the look of the blog! I've made many changes recently, but I'm hoping to actually get together with people who know website design and technology, and improve the visuals of the blog. That includes new pictures probably, or a new banner, or similar things as well as changing the structure of the page. So, I'd love to hear your thoughts, which brings me to ANOTHER change!
I'm adding a poll feature to the right side of the page, where I'll be asking occasional questions. Things like, "What do you want to hear about" and "What's your favorite story" and whatnot. It should be fun, so check THAT out too!
I'm adding a new section as well! It's going to be a Frequently Asked Questions section, so you can maybe figure things out that you don't know yet! Yay!
Lastly, I'm updating something else...my update plans! I've heard your comments, and I think you're right. A more regular update schedule WOULD help you keep actively interested and aware for my musings. How astute an observation! And yes, I will be adding a formal schedule for updates in the near future. I can't do it quite yet, since I'm trying to figure out the frequency, which takes a bit more planning. For now, check out the changes so far, check out the twitter and facebook, check out the new polls, and as always:
Thanks for reading, and I love hearing your comments. I try to respond personally to every comment I get, so feel free to ask questions, I might even answer them!
Thanks guys,
Brian
Statements That Make You Sound Like A Jerk
Today, instead of a long-winded talk and story, I give you a brief but heartfelt rant.
"Don't be offended" is never followed up by "that I think you're just a delight."
It's followed by, "but you're actually a horrible person who deserves some sort of strange and unusual monkey viral infection, and likely a minor beating by some muscular and aggressive mafia thugs." No one starts sentences with, "Please don't get mad when I say this," and ends with puppies and hugs, so why do we use these phrases at all?
We use them because we really DON'T want our 'victims' to be mad. We want to be blunt, and clear, and harsh, but we don't want the injured party to feel assaulted. We worry about people liking us, so it's alien to say anything that might just come across as offensive without at least trying to preface it to soften the blow.
When I say, "no offense", it's because I don't mean personal offense. When I say, "Take this however you want," it means there are multiple levels of meaning that can be taken, and each has a degree of truth to it. However, no matter how it's dressed up, these phrases might be meant kindly but are almost exclusively taken as an attack. That is to say, "Don't take this the wrong way" is never taken the 'right' way.
I suggest we stop using these sorts of phrases. Even when sincere, telling someone something offensive IS offensive. So just SAY WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY in a coherent, non-cliche way. Then, if you feel you must, explain why you feel the need to speak up. Tell someone, "I'm your best friend, so I feel obligated to let you know when you're acting like an asshole. Currently, you are acting like an asshole. That behavior you are engaging in? It's a common asshole behavior. I would recommend, in the future, you act less like an asshole, and engage in this behavior less often, or stop altogether." THEY MIGHT JUST STOPACTING LIKE AN ASSHOLE, and since you didn't try to hide behind meaningless phrases, you're more likely to be taken seriously. The asshole person will spend less time being mad at you for being unclear and rude, and more time either being mad and then fixing their shit, or just fixing their shit, and appreciating the honesty.
In my own close group of friends, we've managed to break past the need for false decorum, and are much more effective communicators as a result. Instead of the unnecessary side jabs that are so often thrown around even in friendly conversation, (passive aggressive bitchiness that most of us learn from pre-teen years, particularly from adolescent girls) my friends and I are clear and communicative. I don't tell someone, "I think you could probably have been nicer," I say, "You're being kind of a dick, please stop." Sure, there's a momentary shock, but suddenly afterwards, my buddy will be less of a prick. Hell, by being blunt, you can now be SPECIFIC. Instead of calling them a jerk, or saying they're acting 'a bit careless', you can say, "No one likes it when you clip your toenails at the dinner table. It's disgusting, as is the horrific stench of feet when we try to eat dinner." (THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED, AND IT WAS REVOLTING)
Being kind and caring are important qualities to cultivate. Being clear and understood is still more important. I'd rather surround myself with somewhat brusque but honest individuals than a room full of politically correct backhanded comments.
On the same subject, let's all just do away with the backhanded compliment. If you think I'm fat, don't tell me, "I love how you wear your weight, it hides your obesity so handsomely." Tell me, "Lose some weight, you're fat." If a girl asks if her butt is big in the dress, don't tell her, "The dress does you favors with your bust line, and really draws attention to your more positive assets," tell her, "Yep, you should find another dress if you're worried about it." Which is better, "I like your butt, but the dress does accentuate it," or, "No, honey, now let's go out now (so you can spend the whole damned evening worrying if I lied, and fearing that you look bad)"?
And lastly, if you really feel like you have to preface your statement, then understand how you're going to be understood. Don't be surprised when, "No offense" is taken offensively, and "I love you, but" sounds like, "I can barely stand your presence. PREPARE FOR INSULTS!"
Maybe, instead of these repetitive phrases we all overuse but don't always understand, we can all proverbially nut-up, and just admit when we have something mean to say.
I'll even set the example: Readers, I think you should share my posts with more people, and stop just being lazy about it, and keeping all the laughs to yourselves. Keeping me to yourself is both selfish and lazy. So, get on that 'sharing' thing, if you would.
See? That wasn't so hard.
Thanks for reading, and if you're interested in more related posts, check out "Kid Rules to Improve the World" or "I Suck at Apologies"
Leave a comment or question below, or check out my older posts on the right. Feel free to hit the 'share' buttons at the bottom of the page or subscribe to me on my facebook page, twitter, or the e-mail subscription button below!
"Don't take this the wrong way, but..."
"So, I mean NO offense..."
"PLEASE don't be mad..."
"I'm just trying to be honest..."
"I say this out of love..."
"I feel like I just HAVE to tell you..."
"You know I never want to sound mean, but..."
Of course, my personal favorite, "This might SOUND mean, but it really isn't"
Each above preface is common, well used, and no matter how utilized, still just mean, "Prepare to be insulted." We all hear them. We all know them. We all probably use them. Yet, over time, they have come to mean the exact opposite of what they say."Don't be offended" is never followed up by "that I think you're just a delight."
It's followed by, "but you're actually a horrible person who deserves some sort of strange and unusual monkey viral infection, and likely a minor beating by some muscular and aggressive mafia thugs." No one starts sentences with, "Please don't get mad when I say this," and ends with puppies and hugs, so why do we use these phrases at all?
We use them because we really DON'T want our 'victims' to be mad. We want to be blunt, and clear, and harsh, but we don't want the injured party to feel assaulted. We worry about people liking us, so it's alien to say anything that might just come across as offensive without at least trying to preface it to soften the blow.
When I say, "no offense", it's because I don't mean personal offense. When I say, "Take this however you want," it means there are multiple levels of meaning that can be taken, and each has a degree of truth to it. However, no matter how it's dressed up, these phrases might be meant kindly but are almost exclusively taken as an attack. That is to say, "Don't take this the wrong way" is never taken the 'right' way.
I suggest we stop using these sorts of phrases. Even when sincere, telling someone something offensive IS offensive. So just SAY WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY in a coherent, non-cliche way. Then, if you feel you must, explain why you feel the need to speak up. Tell someone, "I'm your best friend, so I feel obligated to let you know when you're acting like an asshole. Currently, you are acting like an asshole. That behavior you are engaging in? It's a common asshole behavior. I would recommend, in the future, you act less like an asshole, and engage in this behavior less often, or stop altogether." THEY MIGHT JUST STOPACTING LIKE AN ASSHOLE, and since you didn't try to hide behind meaningless phrases, you're more likely to be taken seriously. The asshole person will spend less time being mad at you for being unclear and rude, and more time either being mad and then fixing their shit, or just fixing their shit, and appreciating the honesty.
In my own close group of friends, we've managed to break past the need for false decorum, and are much more effective communicators as a result. Instead of the unnecessary side jabs that are so often thrown around even in friendly conversation, (passive aggressive bitchiness that most of us learn from pre-teen years, particularly from adolescent girls) my friends and I are clear and communicative. I don't tell someone, "I think you could probably have been nicer," I say, "You're being kind of a dick, please stop." Sure, there's a momentary shock, but suddenly afterwards, my buddy will be less of a prick. Hell, by being blunt, you can now be SPECIFIC. Instead of calling them a jerk, or saying they're acting 'a bit careless', you can say, "No one likes it when you clip your toenails at the dinner table. It's disgusting, as is the horrific stench of feet when we try to eat dinner." (THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED, AND IT WAS REVOLTING)
Being kind and caring are important qualities to cultivate. Being clear and understood is still more important. I'd rather surround myself with somewhat brusque but honest individuals than a room full of politically correct backhanded comments.
On the same subject, let's all just do away with the backhanded compliment. If you think I'm fat, don't tell me, "I love how you wear your weight, it hides your obesity so handsomely." Tell me, "Lose some weight, you're fat." If a girl asks if her butt is big in the dress, don't tell her, "The dress does you favors with your bust line, and really draws attention to your more positive assets," tell her, "Yep, you should find another dress if you're worried about it." Which is better, "I like your butt, but the dress does accentuate it," or, "No, honey, now let's go out now (so you can spend the whole damned evening worrying if I lied, and fearing that you look bad)"?
And lastly, if you really feel like you have to preface your statement, then understand how you're going to be understood. Don't be surprised when, "No offense" is taken offensively, and "I love you, but" sounds like, "I can barely stand your presence. PREPARE FOR INSULTS!"
Maybe, instead of these repetitive phrases we all overuse but don't always understand, we can all proverbially nut-up, and just admit when we have something mean to say.
I'll even set the example: Readers, I think you should share my posts with more people, and stop just being lazy about it, and keeping all the laughs to yourselves. Keeping me to yourself is both selfish and lazy. So, get on that 'sharing' thing, if you would.
See? That wasn't so hard.
Thanks for reading, and if you're interested in more related posts, check out "Kid Rules to Improve the World" or "I Suck at Apologies"
Leave a comment or question below, or check out my older posts on the right. Feel free to hit the 'share' buttons at the bottom of the page or subscribe to me on my facebook page, twitter, or the e-mail subscription button below!
Books and Movies: Meeting The Perfect Match
There are tons of ways to get to know someone new. You can try to TALK to them (a boring, extremely tiresome affair filled with bad anecdotes and names you won't remember). You can try to study them (I recommend body language and common things like siblings, parent's marital status, etc, but I bet awkwardly long eye contact would give you similarly useful info).
You could check facebook, in this intrusive and overbearing society, if you really want to get to know them. If you're interested in learning what they impulsively 'like' at 3 AM on a Tuesday ("Brian Allman likes 'I Hate Missouri', huh) and if you're interested in seeing 3-400 staged pictures ("Me and the Bros at the slosh-party!") that would work. You can check the info tab, to find out that maybe they like the movie "Anchorman" as well as "Schindler's List ("So he hates nazi's but loves to laugh, good to know!")
Despite its pervasive nature, Facebook might not be the best way to get to know someone.
Really, the best way to learn about someone new quickly is to study their actual belongings. Their books and movies in particular can give you incredible and impressive insights (as can their kitchen...trust me, if they, don't own any cookware, if they have more Ramen than all of Asia, and if their dishes are dirty, you know enough to get out of their before their bachelorhood can spread to you.)
It's easier when you study things like their favorite movies and books. Books and movies are tailored to specific crowds, genres, and subcultures. For example, I love the film "Fearless" with Jet Li, because I love martial arts films and morality tales in the form of an action movie. Knowing that, you expect to also find movies like "Braveheart", and other over the top blockbuster cliches, as well as more specific interests. From "The Last Samurai" to the cult hit "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog", you can learn a lot about me from my movie collection. Think critically, and you might understand me better just from my movies. Even just the NUMBER of movies I own probably tells a story.
If you checked out my book collection, you'd be befuddled to a degree, but you'd get basic ideas. I have "In a Sunburned Country" and more Bill Bryson sitting next to fantasy novels about dragons and nonfiction biographies about past presidents. You might not suddenly know who I am, but you'd know what I think about, what I care about, and to a degree what I enjoy.
You can use this to get to know anyone. You can learn more from their DVD collection than their parents' embarrassing stories, or most introductory conversations. I damned sure guarantee you learn more if they own "Aladdin" than you'd ever learn from small talk (especially if it's a guy with a worn out frequently watched copy, which tells you he's into musicals, enjoys Robin Williams, and perhaps never really grew out of his Disney phase...hypothetically, and remember I'm DEFINITELY not talking about myself).
So to do it yourself, just make sure you know what to look for. Look for specific genres, and think about what they mean. If someone owns exclusively brutal horror films about murder, for example, you might consider FLEEING FOR YOUR LIFE. If someone only owns romantic comedies starring Sandra Bullock (again, totally hypothetical and NOT about a girl I used to know), and she tells you she just wants a 'friendship, not strings or romance', you might want to leave immediately, with a firm hold on your man-parts because she might be about to attack and claim them for her own. And if they have really AMAZING movies (Lord of the Rings trilogy, Star Wars, Dune, Pretty much ANYTHING with Anthony Hopkins, Natalie Portman, Jet Li or similar) you might just want to stick around, buy an imperial buttload of popcorn (For my european readers, 1 imperial buttload=2.265 metric fucktons) and have a movie marathon with your new best friend.
Some people say that the best way to get to know someone is to actually get to KNOW them. Take them out, spend time together, ask them about their feelings, their passions, and their interests. That probably works, over time. But for quick decisions? All you have to do is find their favorite movies or books, and you'll know if you found yourself a new best friend.
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, check out some of my other similarly themed posts, "Why Men Suck at Dating: A Theory About Friendship" or "Kid Rules to Improve the World".
Thanks, and leave a comment or question below, and I'll get back to you as quick as I can!
Brian
You could check facebook, in this intrusive and overbearing society, if you really want to get to know them. If you're interested in learning what they impulsively 'like' at 3 AM on a Tuesday ("Brian Allman likes 'I Hate Missouri', huh) and if you're interested in seeing 3-400 staged pictures ("Me and the Bros at the slosh-party!") that would work. You can check the info tab, to find out that maybe they like the movie "Anchorman" as well as "Schindler's List ("So he hates nazi's but loves to laugh, good to know!")
Despite its pervasive nature, Facebook might not be the best way to get to know someone.
Really, the best way to learn about someone new quickly is to study their actual belongings. Their books and movies in particular can give you incredible and impressive insights (as can their kitchen...trust me, if they, don't own any cookware, if they have more Ramen than all of Asia, and if their dishes are dirty, you know enough to get out of their before their bachelorhood can spread to you.)
It's easier when you study things like their favorite movies and books. Books and movies are tailored to specific crowds, genres, and subcultures. For example, I love the film "Fearless" with Jet Li, because I love martial arts films and morality tales in the form of an action movie. Knowing that, you expect to also find movies like "Braveheart", and other over the top blockbuster cliches, as well as more specific interests. From "The Last Samurai" to the cult hit "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog", you can learn a lot about me from my movie collection. Think critically, and you might understand me better just from my movies. Even just the NUMBER of movies I own probably tells a story.
 | |
| I'm going to guess whoever this is LIKES movies, yeah...but it isn't me, sorry. |
If you checked out my book collection, you'd be befuddled to a degree, but you'd get basic ideas. I have "In a Sunburned Country" and more Bill Bryson sitting next to fantasy novels about dragons and nonfiction biographies about past presidents. You might not suddenly know who I am, but you'd know what I think about, what I care about, and to a degree what I enjoy.
You can use this to get to know anyone. You can learn more from their DVD collection than their parents' embarrassing stories, or most introductory conversations. I damned sure guarantee you learn more if they own "Aladdin" than you'd ever learn from small talk (especially if it's a guy with a worn out frequently watched copy, which tells you he's into musicals, enjoys Robin Williams, and perhaps never really grew out of his Disney phase...hypothetically, and remember I'm DEFINITELY not talking about myself).
So to do it yourself, just make sure you know what to look for. Look for specific genres, and think about what they mean. If someone owns exclusively brutal horror films about murder, for example, you might consider FLEEING FOR YOUR LIFE. If someone only owns romantic comedies starring Sandra Bullock (again, totally hypothetical and NOT about a girl I used to know), and she tells you she just wants a 'friendship, not strings or romance', you might want to leave immediately, with a firm hold on your man-parts because she might be about to attack and claim them for her own. And if they have really AMAZING movies (Lord of the Rings trilogy, Star Wars, Dune, Pretty much ANYTHING with Anthony Hopkins, Natalie Portman, Jet Li or similar) you might just want to stick around, buy an imperial buttload of popcorn (For my european readers, 1 imperial buttload=2.265 metric fucktons) and have a movie marathon with your new best friend.
Some people say that the best way to get to know someone is to actually get to KNOW them. Take them out, spend time together, ask them about their feelings, their passions, and their interests. That probably works, over time. But for quick decisions? All you have to do is find their favorite movies or books, and you'll know if you found yourself a new best friend.
 |
| "DAWN OF THE DEAD" IS YOUR FAVORITE MOVIE? WHO WOULD YOU WATCH THIS FOR FUN? |
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, check out some of my other similarly themed posts, "Why Men Suck at Dating: A Theory About Friendship" or "Kid Rules to Improve the World".
Thanks, and leave a comment or question below, and I'll get back to you as quick as I can!
Brian
Shut Your Trap and Sing
I recently published a post that talked about how we should all try to be more like kids again (Kid Rules to Improve the World), and another about how acting silly and possibly childlike can make you feel better (How Lightsabers Defeated Depression).
Today, I'm going to be talking about something in the same arena of thought: Improving your life by doing something freeing, something cool, and not giving a crap about who's watching.
I have a favorite song. It's not a guilty pleasure song, though perhaps if I experienced the same feelings of shame as others, it might make me feel guilty. Luckily for me, I don't, because I realized a long time ago that shame is unimportant, and if I don't fit the mold, the mold wasn't built to proper specifications. (Perhaps we should all adopt this attitude, from time to time)
The song is the Disney song from the film "Hercules" entitled "Go the Distance". I don't enjoy the version sung by Alan Menken in his strangely operatic tone, and I don't enjoy almost any covers I've heard on the internet. As a rule, that's because the song is not just about hearing the lyrics, it's about a ritual that was developed back in my fraternity days.
When I joined the Sigma Nu fraternity at DePauw University, I was prepared to ignore most of the stupid things I assumed they would do. I wouldn't become a frat boy, I wouldn't allow myself to be hazed, and I wouldn't get sucked into meaningless traditions that propagate because old men tell young men they're important.
So I was pleasantly surprised when I was not asked to be hazed, when I didn't find drinking culture, and didn't see many silly traditions at all, except a few that seemed to be grounded on fun; the annual trip to a specific local restaurant one early morning, the free ribs they bought new members, the game-night that helped us all get to know each other.
There was, however, one very strange tradition, related to that wonderful "Hercules" song.
Whenever it came on, we all got on top of our chair, or couch, or in some cases table, lifted one leg in the Captain Morgan stance, and sang a loud, and often off-key rendition of the song, including the belted last note that often hurt our throats and allowed the few of us who WERE singers to show off our tone and breath control....by singing even louder and longer.
The first time it happened, I was sitting in the common room when down the hall the softly playing music suddenly rocketed up and became loud, and impossible to ignore. The movie we were watching was instantly paused, and while the young freshmen sat confused in our seats, our mature adult companions suddenly stood up with massive, silly grins, and belted out a kid's movie song at the top of their voices. When it finished, they sat down and after a few seconds of laughter, started the movie back up.
I didn't ask then what was going on. For some reason, I assumed it was some sort of unknown rite-of-passing I hadn't crossed, and would eventually understand. However, that same weekend when it happened again, and an old alumnus who stopped by joined in, I had to ask what the hell was going on.
I asked, "So, what exactly is that?"
A fraternity senior stared at me like an idiot and answered slowly, "Go the Distance, from Hercules?"
So I continued, "But, why do you sing it? And the whole standing on something thing...is there a set of rules, or something? Do you have to do it after you join? Are there other songs?"
He stared at me a moment longer before answering, again slowly as if I were a complete fool, "No, it's just a fun song. And we like it. And so we sing."
This answer was apparently all he cared to give, so he left, and I pondered the situation for several more days until it happened, YET AGAIN, the next week. As everyone stood up around me, I loudly exclaimed something to the effect of "what the fuck are you guys doing, can someone just explain?" and I was met with one of my best friends in the fraternity, the legendary Beardo, responding "Shut your trap and sing."
I stood up on the chair, and I did.
To this day, whenever I hear that song, unless I'm in a busy meeting or in a car, I find some way to stand up, pose heroically, and sing as loud as I possibly can.
Everyone has their rituals, and their favorite songs. Everyone tries, time and again, to master the heroic pose, and the group inside-joke, and the combinations thereof. We like to feel happy and silly, and it's nice to do something that allows us to feel like a kid, completely outside of judgment even for silly behaviors.
No kid ever tells you that they're 'ashamed' to like Disney, do they? Nor does a kid feel bad when they sing, however loud and off-key it might be. In my experience, that's because unlike adults kids don't seem to understand a guilty pleasure, or much of guilt at all. They don't mind being stared at in a crowd, and their sense of decorum doesn't even keep them from loudly screaming and crying in public, so why would it stop them from singing and dancing?
Everybody needs to have these sorts of rituals. I believe in my heart of hearts that everyone benefits from having something that they find stupid but fun, and just giving in to it.
I have many more rituals and behaviors I've picked up, some less silly and a few even more so, but none of them quite so much fun. I imagine someday at my wedding, or at those of my fraternity brothers, I will do this again in public. I will stand up, strike a pose heroically, and then happily embarrass myself in order to feel young again, and in order to have fun. I will sing like the idiot that my inner child is.
As Beardo once taught me, if you're feeling unsure, or scared, or even just amused but confused, sometimes instead of analyzing and querying and trying to stop it is pointless.
The best thing to do is shut your trap, strike a heroic pose, open your mouth, and sing.
Thanks for reading. If you liked this, check out the links at the top of the page, or if you're looking for more fun Brian Allman stories, read my older posts, Choir Boy to Mountain Man or Basketballs and Brotherhood: Twin stories.
Leave your comments, such as your OWN silly rituals and fun ideas, below!
As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed.
Brian
Today, I'm going to be talking about something in the same arena of thought: Improving your life by doing something freeing, something cool, and not giving a crap about who's watching.
I have a favorite song. It's not a guilty pleasure song, though perhaps if I experienced the same feelings of shame as others, it might make me feel guilty. Luckily for me, I don't, because I realized a long time ago that shame is unimportant, and if I don't fit the mold, the mold wasn't built to proper specifications. (Perhaps we should all adopt this attitude, from time to time)
The song is the Disney song from the film "Hercules" entitled "Go the Distance". I don't enjoy the version sung by Alan Menken in his strangely operatic tone, and I don't enjoy almost any covers I've heard on the internet. As a rule, that's because the song is not just about hearing the lyrics, it's about a ritual that was developed back in my fraternity days.
When I joined the Sigma Nu fraternity at DePauw University, I was prepared to ignore most of the stupid things I assumed they would do. I wouldn't become a frat boy, I wouldn't allow myself to be hazed, and I wouldn't get sucked into meaningless traditions that propagate because old men tell young men they're important.
So I was pleasantly surprised when I was not asked to be hazed, when I didn't find drinking culture, and didn't see many silly traditions at all, except a few that seemed to be grounded on fun; the annual trip to a specific local restaurant one early morning, the free ribs they bought new members, the game-night that helped us all get to know each other.
There was, however, one very strange tradition, related to that wonderful "Hercules" song.
Whenever it came on, we all got on top of our chair, or couch, or in some cases table, lifted one leg in the Captain Morgan stance, and sang a loud, and often off-key rendition of the song, including the belted last note that often hurt our throats and allowed the few of us who WERE singers to show off our tone and breath control....by singing even louder and longer.
The first time it happened, I was sitting in the common room when down the hall the softly playing music suddenly rocketed up and became loud, and impossible to ignore. The movie we were watching was instantly paused, and while the young freshmen sat confused in our seats, our mature adult companions suddenly stood up with massive, silly grins, and belted out a kid's movie song at the top of their voices. When it finished, they sat down and after a few seconds of laughter, started the movie back up.
I didn't ask then what was going on. For some reason, I assumed it was some sort of unknown rite-of-passing I hadn't crossed, and would eventually understand. However, that same weekend when it happened again, and an old alumnus who stopped by joined in, I had to ask what the hell was going on.
I asked, "So, what exactly is that?"
A fraternity senior stared at me like an idiot and answered slowly, "Go the Distance, from Hercules?"
So I continued, "But, why do you sing it? And the whole standing on something thing...is there a set of rules, or something? Do you have to do it after you join? Are there other songs?"
He stared at me a moment longer before answering, again slowly as if I were a complete fool, "No, it's just a fun song. And we like it. And so we sing."
This answer was apparently all he cared to give, so he left, and I pondered the situation for several more days until it happened, YET AGAIN, the next week. As everyone stood up around me, I loudly exclaimed something to the effect of "what the fuck are you guys doing, can someone just explain?" and I was met with one of my best friends in the fraternity, the legendary Beardo, responding "Shut your trap and sing."
I stood up on the chair, and I did.
To this day, whenever I hear that song, unless I'm in a busy meeting or in a car, I find some way to stand up, pose heroically, and sing as loud as I possibly can.
Everyone has their rituals, and their favorite songs. Everyone tries, time and again, to master the heroic pose, and the group inside-joke, and the combinations thereof. We like to feel happy and silly, and it's nice to do something that allows us to feel like a kid, completely outside of judgment even for silly behaviors.
No kid ever tells you that they're 'ashamed' to like Disney, do they? Nor does a kid feel bad when they sing, however loud and off-key it might be. In my experience, that's because unlike adults kids don't seem to understand a guilty pleasure, or much of guilt at all. They don't mind being stared at in a crowd, and their sense of decorum doesn't even keep them from loudly screaming and crying in public, so why would it stop them from singing and dancing?
Everybody needs to have these sorts of rituals. I believe in my heart of hearts that everyone benefits from having something that they find stupid but fun, and just giving in to it.
I have many more rituals and behaviors I've picked up, some less silly and a few even more so, but none of them quite so much fun. I imagine someday at my wedding, or at those of my fraternity brothers, I will do this again in public. I will stand up, strike a pose heroically, and then happily embarrass myself in order to feel young again, and in order to have fun. I will sing like the idiot that my inner child is.
As Beardo once taught me, if you're feeling unsure, or scared, or even just amused but confused, sometimes instead of analyzing and querying and trying to stop it is pointless.
The best thing to do is shut your trap, strike a heroic pose, open your mouth, and sing.
Thanks for reading. If you liked this, check out the links at the top of the page, or if you're looking for more fun Brian Allman stories, read my older posts, Choir Boy to Mountain Man or Basketballs and Brotherhood: Twin stories.
Leave your comments, such as your OWN silly rituals and fun ideas, below!
As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed.
Brian
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