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Trainers hate him.

Or so starts most of the weight loss ads stashed in the corners of our favorite pages. The ad is accompanied by a pick of an extra-ripped individual who looks like he either fluffed before the photo, or is photoshopped. A combination of the two is possible, but becoming just like him shouldn’t be. It isn’t really, unless you learn this One weird trick. 

One weird trick is an internet meme, a vehicle really, that carries the idea that there is a shortcut to physical health; that you can do one simple and probably quick thing and become as fit as anyone you see on TV. You can do this without trainers, supplements, or anything save for the simple bit of advice found by clicking on the ad and spending whatever amount is suggested at the destination sight. One weird trick is the internet version of snake oil liniment, a catch-all name for fake our suspect health products meant to be curari for all that ails you.

These products are mostly fakes and the tip or trick is always a fraud. This tip found off the Bleacher Report suggests, nitric oxide will be your curari. Vernon Davis provides a quote, while a skinny blonde provides a voice over to remind you that this will provide you with pounds and pounds of sexy muscle. Ironically, she suggests that you don’t need to by a bunch of pills from a pharmacy while selling a pill herself.

Here’s one weird trick–If you want a better body then get up off the couch and work for it. When you reach the point that it gets to be too difficult and your mind tells you to quit, stop thinking about quitting and do five more reps of whatever you were about the quit. Perseverance is the key to getting in shape. Perseverance, good eating, and maybe a little Deer Antler Spray.

It is clear that I’ve been working through some frustrations lately. Summer puts me in a 3 on 1 setting with my kids with no relief in sight. This wouldn’t be as bad if the kids weren’t cooped up. I plan to change that tomorrow with mandatory two-a-days. The other frustrations center around a lack of working tech (including an iPad shattered yesterday), and an inability to get on a creative roll. I think that more than anything else I am in need of some me time–away from the daily hustle. I need a day or two to retreat from the familiar and refamiliarize myself with the amazing landscape of my creative subconscious.

If only that opportunity would present itself…

Inspired by the recent Comicon, a re-watching of a handful of hero movies, and the announcement of an upcoming Superman/Batman live-action movie, and even the Zimmerman vigilante verdict, I started wondering how to the world would react to full on superheroes roaming the streets. I’m not talking about Superman–it is clear that a man with super human powers–or an alien–would be immediately treated as a threat to everyone’s national security. How about a Batman or an Iron Man?

The key component in this is the acceptance that an individual can, of their own free will, go out and fight crime in a way that employs either extreme fear or use of non-lethal technologies and not be subject to legal action by the victims of such attacks. In the film The Incredibles, the entire hero structure was brought down because a hero saved a man from a suicide attempt and was sued by the person trying to commit suicide. That opened the door to a wealth of suits and complaints centered around the idea of responsibility. In the Batman cartoon criminals and victim advocacy groups were going after the Bat because  they believed his vigilante justice infringed on their rights as individuals–even if they were in the act of a crime. They criminalized the avenger while ignoring the criminals based on the fact there was no trial or utter proof of guilt.

We are not in that time. Instead we live in an age where the burden of proof gives way to media opinion. We crucified Zimmerman and Hernandez and even the suspected Boston Bomber without proof. Do we know they are guilty? It sure feels like we do. Zimmerman, by the letter of the law of the crime he was charged with was not guilty. Hernandez sure looks guilty, but would we be okay with a Batman-esque super hero swooping down out of the night, beating him senseless, and dropping him off for the cops? I think I’d be okay with that.

The ACLU would have a cow. I don’t know if we would react to Supers the way they did in Kick Ass, but I surely hope I can see it unfold in my lifetime. I already have my Super name picked out. No, I can’t tell you. That’s the point of a secret identity.

Some Thoughts:

1. I dreamed of death last night. I woke up in the afterlife on a near empty train with a few children who met their end too soon. We pulled into a station where I saw another packed train headed in the opposite direction. I can’t say if I just knew or some unseen force informed me that the other train was headed to oblivion, where the souls would be wiped of all memory and get a fresh start. I opted to stay on my train and headed off to a strange sort of afterlife. I woke soon after. 

There is a microfilament line between anger and disappointment. Quite a bit of my summer parenting time is spent being angry. On occasion that anger creeps past that barrier into the darker realm of disappointment. In the month of July my middle son has lost a Kindle and shattered an Ipad. He’s cried and complained about what he considers to be over harsh punishment, but what am I supposed to expect from a newly minted six year old (3 months at 6 yrs)? What I get is a terrible amount of heartache and broken stuff. What I get is a mountain of self doubt and questions such as, am I raising another Dahmer? What is a parent supposed to do with difficult children?

There is no legitimate manual for parenting–I know because I’ve read quite a few. All they ever remind you of is how each child and each environment is different. Perhaps the one great tip they all do offer is that kids learn from watching parents and siblings. They do as we do, which is why my boys are gamers, athletes, and lazy. They are also blissfully unaware of the behind-the-scenes drama and trauma that goes into giving them a better life than what I had. Sometimes I think it is a good thing, and sometimes I wonder aloud if my kids are better served by struggling the way I did as a kid and not having access to computers, Ipads, video games, etc.

The question boils down to two key components for me: WIthout the trappings of technology, will my kids be at an advantage in a technological disadvantage? WIth the tech, will they fail to develop the creativity and good working habits of kids who are left to no other devices than hard work?

 

Well, that’s enough writing for now. The two kids who aren’t grounded are outside shooting  hoops and I want to join in.

Even now at 11:28 on a Saturday Night I realize that productive level is waxing. I’m heading towards a level of productivity that shatter adequacy and pulls me out of the summer-long slump I’ve been in. The production thus far has manifested around the house–Yardwork, Painting rooms, designing a study space for the kids. The whole thing is about finding a space that is most conducive for work while maintaining a baseline level of joy within my life to be the person I hope I am.

Of course, it is terribly late and the amount of production spilling out of me has fallen to a trickle. Late night posts rarely offer much.

Call it a new segment.

I’ve been trying to build my sociological pseudo-thesis (not in a grad program, but I just want to write) about the social forces all around us–namely the commercials I work so fervently to convince my kids to fast forward through. In this segment I want to take the time to call out a few key commercials, highlighting the supposed demographic and why these commercials are so impactful, be it in a positive or negative way.

The new Bud Light commercial deserves a look. This commercial features an all black cast with a typical mix of light and dark skinned individuals. The commercial centers around a group of dudes sitting at the bar arguing about who saw something first. Given the linked visuals we are led to believe they are talking about and objectifying a woman as a possession. Once the woman arrives it is clear that they were discussing the beers she was delivering and she even gets in on the action, exclaiming how cool the bottle is. She moves away never once assuming (to our knowledge) that she was being objectified.

This is where the commercial breaks down for me. The audience is being led to identify with the objectification of a woman and once we discover we were supposed to be objectifying an actual object, we are not scolded, and furthermore the woman plays along.

The sexual objectification of women is as prevalent as roaches in a hot climate. As we see more commercials like the Dove ads working to countermand this, the forces of objectification are becoming emboldened.

Reading the the acknowledgements for Neil Gaiman’s delightful new work I discovered a line about the role Stephen King played in Gaiman’s writing. He encouraged Gaiman to write every day, which is the exact lesson I learned from his book On Writing. It struck me in that moment that I haven’t exactly loved writing this summer. If you love something you should reward yourself by doing it everyday. In fact, you owe it to yourself. I haven’t done it that much thanks to this terrible closed in feeling I get in my gargantuan home. It feels somehow dark and oppressive, which led to the idea of making an accent wall that doubled as color therapy. I did it today with the help of my wife and it worked very well. Suddenly the office I dreaded wandering into is the place that reminds me of how much I love to write.

I wouldn’t call the project done. The beautiful blue wall is nice, but my wife thinks (and I concur) that the space could be made even more elegant by the edition of grey paint to replace the beige marking the other walls. This would mean moving cabinets, which I don’t ever want to do again, but it is such a brilliant idea that I may have no recourse but to give in and do it–or paint around the cabinets.

For the first time in a while I feel happy and energized and I’m writing from this place of love and intention. Next week the Shadowrun Anthology debuts alongside a pretty awesome video game. I’m excited to see how people enjoy it and even more excited to write something brand new.

How’s that for change.

My kids asked me why I am so angry. I wanted to say them, but it wasn’t entirely their fault. The general level of malaise and summer disappointment does stem from being around them for an extremely long time with no real break for ‘grown people talk,’ residual anger (’tis a form of grief) from the loss of the last of my father figures, and the really big one for the day was the utter failure of major electronic devices. I bought a Jawbone Up. It didn’t work. I bought pro controller for the Wii U. It didn’t work. Two unrelated purchases from different locations that did not work to go along with an iPhone that works when it chooses to. Now this is a problem.

I have these problems on occasion. Electronics go out around me on a fairly regular cycle. I used to think it was an electro-chemical thing tied to seasons and the Earth’s own e-mag fields. My theory was that my own e-field was meshing with the earth’s field in a way that made my electronics wonky. The theory is wonky and I abandoned it long ago. I settled on the non-theory of gremlins and bad luck. That all came to a head with these bad products that led to bad parenting and returned goods.

The fact is, I am angry. I hate that.

After watching Pacific Rim I am considering renaming my Fantasy team Gypsy Danger. After all, the underdog bot story matches up well with my last few seasons. Not to spoil the movie, Gypsy Danger turns out to be a lot more plucky then the bad guys would like. I think I’m going to be the same way in this year’s breakout season. The key: Not relying on the stars of the game.

I’m going to rely heavily on the evidence and predictive models this year. I intend to marry that number sense with some danger sense of my own. Who is primed for a tough physical season? Who is likely to break down early? Who has nothing to play for? Who is playing for everything? No secret that the QB’s in a two QB league are going to go fast, so I need to look past the obvious Mannings and Bradys and look for end of the bench guys and potential late season starters to round out my offense.

Its going to be a fun season. They Might Be Giants/Gypsy Danger look good to win it all.

 

Some Thoughts:

1. Started the study room remodel yesterday with some initial shopping. I don’t think I will be painting much of the walls–if any. I had a strong idea for a chalkboard wall, but I’m not sure how to make that successful with the textured walls we have. I should paint the entire room, but given the time required to do so, it is highly unlikely. An accent wall is still possible. The basic white on black design is going to be highlighted by green, blue, and red, which are the boys’ three colors and will help identify the spaces within the space. There may be pictures or a post or both when finished. 

 

To say my restart has cranked down to a stop would be like saying a fossil just can’t move so fast anymore. The family death is no excuse. I’ve simply not been terribly motivated to get back in the saddle and get back to writing. Oddly enough, I have more stories in me now than at any other point. Maybe that mental traffic jam is the problem. Too many ideas does seem like a good problem to have on the surface, but it isn’t that great of a problem to have at all.

Some Thoughts:

1. My wife, after being gone for close to two weeks is very much vacationed out. Me, I want a vacation. Compromise is on the horizon. 
2. I’m struggling with understanding how Mistresses is going to keep the storylines going. They all seem destined to culminate by the end of this short summer season and not very well at that.
3. I want to do one of those bus disappears one day. The way it works is you stand still until the bus comes and once it crosses in front you run alongside the thing until you hit a hiding spot. Simple, remarkably childish, yet devastatingly cool in execution.
4. Dear Media, quit trying to scare the excrement out of me. I’m not constipated and the world is not likely to collapse around me any time soon.