Keeping the Control Out

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I don’t like being told what to do. It’s the whole anti-authoritarian bent I’ve never gotten over. But I’m mature (you’ll have to trust me on that one) and know that there are times when people need to tell me what to do. So I can live with that to a degree.

But what really gets me is when people tell me how to do something. Like how to do my job. I get pretty bristly about that. Unless you know I don’t know how to do something, you should tread lightly. If you’re unsure if I know how, you’re allowed to ask if I understand or I need direction.

I think it’s a control thing. I think it’s an on-going battle between my need for independence and people who think they need to control me, or more accurately people who think they need to control everything around them. I’m hypersensitive to it. I notice the behavior immediately whether it is occurring to me or someone else. The reaction to controlling behavior is visceral. It can’t be helped.

I suppose a strong sense of my own personal boundaries adds to the tension. I know personal boundaries are different for everyone but most people at least make an effort to understand what yours are. I sense control freaks aren’t so interested in that.

Not everyone is as annoyed by control freaks as I am. I am sure I offend control freaks all the time. I am probably offending them right now. I am sure I offend people who like control freaks, too. I don’t really even feel bad about that, which is really unusual for me because I normally don’t like to make people feel bad.

Maybe some people need control freaks to tell them what to do. Maybe they feel control freaks help give them the direction and stability they could never achieve on their own. I guess I get that and I try to be empathetic. But my empathy tells me it’s violation of personal freedom so I end up only feeling sympathy.

I guess maybe it falls into that dominant/submissive psychology. I suppose some people get enjoyment out of it. So who I am to say. I don’t want to control your behavior. That would be rather hypocritical now wouldn’t it?

So I guess my message to control freaks is this: you probably can’t help being a control freak but at least have the decency to ask if I want to be controlled. Obviously the answer will be no. But at least when I bristle at your attempt to control you won’t be surprised it.

 

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Turning the Tables on a Bloody Valentine’s Day Revenge

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It’s so red. My blood that is. The blood that has come pouring from my nose twice today.

I blame Valentine’s Day for taking its revenge on me after mocking it the other day. These mocking come with a price, I guess.

My blood is pretty much neon red. I think that’s a good sign. Nice and rich.

The first bleeding was in the steam room, which strangely enough was supposed to be bringing some moisture to my nasal passages in hopes of avoiding the bloody bleeding. It was awesome because I was covered in moisture and didn’t notice the bloody bleeding until it was dripping onto my chest. Good thing it’s too steamy in the steam room for people to notice.

The second bleeding came after dinner. I noticed that right away. I got over the sink I the bathroom and there I noticed the vibrant color of my blood drops. I thought, how beautiful.

It was then I decided to say screw you Valentine’s Day. I will make beautiful art with my beautiful blood.

So I let the drops fall and directed them here and there and created a wonderful splatter art creation. Jackson Pollack would be proud.

I turned the tables on Valentine’s revenge. I would teach it what love was all about.

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BitterCoin: Trading in Bitterness

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Dealing in currency is rough business. Bitcoin, the darling of electronic currency, has taken some hits recently over money laundering accusations and glitches in its transaction software.  A favorite among black markets and drug dealers, Bitcoin attracts a tough crowd.

So I was thinking if Bitcoin is electronic currency that is struggling, maybe they didn’t have the right structure. The currency needed to be backed by something, kind of like the old gold standard. It needed to create a feeling of stability, of tangibility.

So I’m going to start a new electronic currency: BitterCoin. It will be backed by bitterness. Now that’s something that can reach out and touch you and you can touch it back.

To begin with there will be no BitterCoins. You will have to go to the BitterCoin administrators and demonstrate appropriate bitterness. A panel will decide on the quality of your bitterness and award you the appropriate number of BitterCoins, kind of like the Fed printing money. The essence of your bitterness will be attached forever to those BitterCoins.

And so BitterCoins will come into existence. Merchants will be able to sign up to accept BitterCoins as payment. The merchant will receive the BitterCoins along with the bitterness that created them, thus passing onto them the bitter value that created those BitterCoins. By accepting the bitterness you accept their value.

And bitter stock exchanges will be created where the relative value of a Bittercoin will be established by the public’s ongoing assessment of the bitter sentiment attached to it. And so Bittercoins will fluctuate in value as the public’s mood shifts about. Bitterness commodities and futures will emerge. Educational systems will evolve to improve the quality of bitterness and thus the manufacture of new Bittercoins.

There will be bitter specialists and certifications for the bitterly gifted. Losses in the BitterCoin market will only spur more bitterness creating a perpetual motion machine of BitterCoin generation.

Let the Bitterness Begin.

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Hiding from My Bloody Valentine

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It’s so easy to hate on Valentine’s Day. Which of course is funny because it’s the day of “love.”

We all know it’s all commercial and been bought out by jewelry companies, florists and chocolatiers. It’s capitalism at its best. I get it.

I can be romantic and sentimental so it’s not like the idea violates any part of my core being. I get it.

It’s none of those things that make me a little prickly about the subject.

It boils down to simply not liking being told what to do. It’s that ingrained anti-authoritarian vein that runs to and through my heart and soul.

I will not be told when to love, care and show affection. I will not be told how to show that affection. I simply will not eat green eggs and ham.

I prickle at it because it’s a no win scenario. If I grouse about it at all, I’m a cynical coot. If I partake, I’ve sold out to artificial consumer sentimentalism.

What’s a person to do?

I suppose I could steal a line form “A Christmas Carol” and vow to keep Valentine’s Day in my heart all year and so not have to make a big deal of the V Day. It becomes just another day of love.

I mean, how sentimental and romantic is that? Pretty sentimental and romantic. You can’t beat that.

But how could you do such a thing? Well, you just need to find love in the little things. To show love in the little ways. To show appreciation, care or support in the little things. Just think of the serotonin overload you will have. You’ll positively glow. Just do it.

Oh my, this blog is becoming a bloody love fest. I’ll never live it down. But no, I won’t back down.

Do good things.  Feel the love that is serotonin. Then Valentine’s Day can be every day.

And if you still have the need to give Valentine’s chocolate you can give it to me every day. I won’t complain.

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When Motivation has Run Away

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I lost motivation the other day. I looked around and it was just gone. It felt like my dog had gotten loose and I couldn’t find him. (OK, to be fair, it actually wasn’t as bad as losing your dog. It’s just a metaphor)

Anyway I was quite disturbed to have lost my motivation (not to be confused with losing my mo jo, but that’s a different quest). Usually when I lose my motivation I spend way too much time trying to figure out why. Why, why, why? I know this can be helpful sometimes, to understand what you may have done differently. But often the quest to sift through all the variables can be daunting and lead to dubious conclusions, perhaps mistaking the final straw with the root cause. The complexity is often beyond me.

So this time I decided to not ask why. I instead focused on how to get it back, which at first led me to ask what actions should I take?

So I tried some behavior tricks.

It’s the dead of long, cold winter. I went to the Como Conservatory greenhouses and soaked in warmth and lush vegetation. I went to the coffee shop and drank warm coffee and reflected on some rally deep stuff. I consumed sublime dark chocolate to boost the dopamine. Even though I felt lifted and filled with energy, there was no motivation. Nothing.

But then I thought, what do I want to be motivated about? The actions I might take would certainly depend on the object of my motivational desire.

So I took a step back and asked what do you know about yourself that might enlighten you on this quest for motivational objects. Then it came to me as if I had turned a corner and there it was. I have often said at my job that in order to do a good job and keep me motivated I need to work on three projects. No more, no less. Three is perfect. It’s provides a balance between focusing on one topic too much and becoming bored and focusing on too many topic and becoming fractured and unproductive. Eureka! The magic of three.

And so in not asking why I discovered why. A little misdirection and I was able to sneak up on the root problem.  Too many projects. The fracturing of my motivation into so many parts that they were not individually sustainable. They dissolved back into the ether.

Focus, Joe, focus. Prioritize your projects and the motivation will return. Now to pick the projects. Another effort unto itself.

Has your motivation run away? Don’t panic. Go back to the beginning. That is always a good place to start.

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The Hive: Coming soon to a Reality Near You

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Are we that far removed from the Hive?

A world unto its own. I was down at the Mayo Clinic this last week several times with my nephew (he’s doing well). The Mayo Clinic is a very sophisticated venture. Their efficiency and expertise is clearly top notch. But what struck me as inspiring was the physical layout.

A labyrinth of buildings connected by skyways and subways: modern, monitored and controlled. My sister said it looked like a spaceport. My nephew said it reminded him of The Hive from “Resident Evil,” either the movie or the video game.

It did feel like The Hive, especially when we were subterranean. I though the notion was a little unsettling. My nephew didn’t seem to be concerned at all about the blending of fiction and reality. He has become comfortable with the genesis of what is the beginning of a new reality.

I suppose places that become cities unto themselves are nothing new. All kinds of corporations have campuses and compounds and complexes that are microcosms of their surrounding cultures. And of course there is the whole world of digital civilizations, either specifically designed (Second Life or Sims) or organically grown subcultures.

Perhaps this is good indoctrination for when we all have to live under Biodomes. Thousands and thousands of self-contained cities. Highly controlled cities. Since all resources will be at a premium access to them will be controlled. Any activities that expend these limited resources will be controlled. Your activities and consumption will be monitored. You will be told what is and is not acceptable behavior for the greater good and continuance of the species.

Wait. That doesn’t sound all that far-fetched. This wouldn’t even make good science fiction. It sounds more like an inevitability.

Are we perilously close to a world where too many people are already willing to hand over difficult choices to someone else? Free will is already a subject of debate. Why not just give in to determinism? I am sure there are pros and cons.

Perhaps. But there are always those who will resist. It’s in our natures. We all just have different thresholds. What’s your threshold?

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When Emotions Pass in the Night

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That car’s a jerk. That’s what I think when q car aggressively passes me. I’m pretty sure I’m not alone when I think that.

What I also have a tendency to do is to give personality traits to the way a car is moving. I think they call that anthropomorphism or personification. Ultimately, yes, the interpretation of action ends up at the driver but it starts with the cars movements.

It’s the most intriguing when you don’t actually see the driver of the car because seeing the driver biases the desire to simply judge the action. What can I read into that action without any interference from body language or facial expression?

Like the car that keeps shifting from one side of the lane to the other. Is that impatience? Is it concern for what might be ahead?

And the kind of vehicle changes the interpretation. If a sports car overly aggressively passes me, I might think what typical Type-A, everything-is-a-competition behavior. But if a propane truck over aggressively passes me, I might think what recklessness.

Context changes reactions to actions as well. If it’s a clear, dry day and some minivan is tailgating me, I might think your impatience will not get you there faster. If the streets are slippery at night and a minivan is tailgating me, I might think what careless and selfish jerk to endanger me for no good reason.

So I guess actions do speak very loud indeed. So if you think your state of mind is so closely guarded by your fortress like car, you are wrong. Maybe the cars actions can be like tells: conscious or unconscious actions that betray an emotion.

People who play poker look for tells. People who interview or interrogate people look for tells. Tells can be words, body language, facial expressions and perhaps the movement of your car.

Our emotions are not so hidden as we think, especially for people who know what they are looking for.

I know I am screwed in that department. I wear every emotion on my face. Nothing is hidden. The best I can do is express a blank face that while it may hide a more subtle emotional tell screams that something is clearly up even if you don’t know exactly what.

So I’ve embraced my inability to hide emotions as some sort of grand openness and tried to incorporate it as a positive personality trait. The open book approach.

To watch me is to know me. I can only imagine what my horrendous driving shouts out to other people.

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Franken Ribs and the Constitution

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Ethics are a bitch. They are way too complicated for my tiny brain.

You see, I was at the grocery store today and saw some flanken ribs for sale (not that I had a clue what a flanken was so I had to Google it).

You see I thought it said Franken Ribs. Which of course made me think of franken fish, fish genetically modified to be hungry all the time so they grow faster. I’m no expert on franken fish so you’ll have to Google that yourself.

So I’m thinking franken ribs not from a perspective of a modified pig growing really big ribs but of ribs growing in a vat of gelatinous nutrients.  Kind of like the idea of growing spare organs.

So of course I wonder what the ethics are of eating a vat-grown slab of ribs. Technically I suspect it wouldn’t be an animal. Though I don’t know that for sure. This is where ethics fall into that bitch category.

I have no idea what to think about that. I don’t know if franken ribs are good or bad.

At least with the franken fish I can believe that modifying fish to be forever hungry and allowing those modified fish to find their way into nature is probably really bad. I don’t know if it’s ethically bad but I’m pretty sure the environmental impact will be nasty.

I mean what if a franken fish breeds with a shark. Holy crap that would be bad. Perpetually ravenous sharks prowling the ocean. It would be like Jurassic park unintended consequences bad.

Maybe it falls into the just because you can do it doesn’t mean you should category. Which I must say is a category that applies so well to so many things.

The latest thing I threw in that category was legislation or laws. Just because it isn’t unconstitutional doesn’t mean you should do it or allow it (Ahem, yes I’m talking about you Citizen United). Somehow we’ve managed to endow the constitution with some sort of ethical/moral pass. That’s messed up.

Maybe we need to find some of Jefferson’s DNA grow his brain in a vat and see if he can shed some commonsense on this whole constitution thing. Or we could just grow his brain in a vat and then eat it. That would probably solve a whole slew of ethical and constitutional questions. It might spawn a whole new discourse like “Well, if we can eat Jefferson’s brain it certainly then makes sense that corporations should have a voice in the democracy.”

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Tell Us What You Really Think

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Tell Us What You Really Think

I hear that a lot. Tell us what you really think, Joe. Apparently the remark is issued when I’ve said something blunt or passionate. Which is OK since I don’t really mind the comment. In fact, usually in hindsight, I derive some fulfillment from it.

I get the most fulfillment out of when someone says that and I think but I didn’t even say anything outrageous or passionate. It just was. The reason I get most fulfillment is that when that happens and I wasn’t even trying to get a reaction, then I know that was just me. And it’s good to just be able to be yourself.

Sometimes I think we all need to be more open and honest. I’m not sure why I think that because I think while I might be honest I am certainly not open. What the hell am I thinking?

I guess I must be open a little or I wouldn’t hear the “Tell us what you really think” line. But I’m not that open. I’m a pretty nice guy, though like anyone sometimes I say something mean and feel bad about that. So there’s no way I could be that open. That would verge on cruelty.

But not everybody is nice. And not nice people being really open could only go terribly wrong. Might be funny in a movie but that’s about it.

And the other thing that could go wrong is that not nice people would confuse being open with the need to complain or give advice. I think I get that fear from watching too many bad psychologist/therapy scenes where the therapist says to a couple “You need to open up” and there is an immediate dump about everything that one hates about the other, which is great in theory, not so great on the street.

Filters. We need filters. Some people don’t have good filters. I am pretty sure I’ve thought thousands of times “I did not need to know that.” Which is related to “I did not want to know that” but slightly different. Talking to me equals filter. Talking to therapist equals no filter. So if there’s no filter I’m going have to go ahead and charge you my normal therapist fee for that conversation.

Children don’t start with filters. The other day a friend of mine said his daughter gave him some great feedback on some music that was pretty honest and direct.  I said the observation was certainly honest but lacked the context to make it useful.

Context is what should inform our filters. People often confuse being honest with being blunt. I hear people say “I was just telling the truth. I don’t know why he got so mad.” Duh, you were a blunt ass who managed to achieve exactly the opposite of what you were aiming for because you lacked the context to inform your filters so you could employ tact.

I guess context and filters allow us to have tact so we can, as Jack Nicholson might say, handle the truth. Or perhaps so that we can be good purveyors of the truth, not jack asses.

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Risking an Honest No Lies Resume

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After watching “The Invention of Lying” the other day I thought I would put a resume together that required me to place my true and unfiltered thoughts on paper. I thought I would use my newly invented “Open Letter to my Prospective Boss” format.

Dear Prospective Boss:

  • I am very good at what I do. This is not to be confused with what you may think I should be good at.
  • I am a misfit. I do not fit the mold. You don’t like misfits. You think misfits are disruptive. But you needs misfits and I’ll prove it.
  • I will care about certain things and not care about other things. It is unlikely you will have any influence over what those are.
  • I will roll my eyes when I think you are wrong. I will roll my eyes when I think you are stupid. I will roll my eyes when you are way off base. I will roll my eyes a lot.
  • I am very sarcastic. I will not hesitate to share my sarcasm in any situation. Nothing is sacred. Not even you.
  • I am a good listener. That means I am good at knowing when I am being fed a line.
  • I am very opinionated about things I care about (see first bullet point). Except when I am not.
  • I am strategic minded, and though I am not politically minded I know the difference. Don’t bother trying to foist one off as the other. Though you can fret me, you cannot play me.
  • I like to quote Shakespeare in my e-mails.
  • You pay me to think. Sometimes thinking looks like inactivity. Don’t be alarmed and move along.
  • I do not multitask. In fact nobody really multitasks. Spending your day rapidly jumping from topic to topic is not multitasking. That’s called being fractured. It’s inefficient and wasteful. I do not multitask.
  • I don’t think I need recognition. But I am wrong. Recognition is good for everyone involved.
  • I hate feedback poorly given. Good feedback is about improving my product. It’s not about how you would do it. I am not you.
  • I am not detail oriented. My ability to remember things is not the same as detail oriented. It just means I am paying attention.
  • I have my own methods. Yes, I am familiar with the main schools of thought. But I am my own school of thought. Shouldn’t we all have our schools of thought? We’re not robots, yet.

I think this should do it. All the rest of my skills are based on conjecture anyway, so not much need to go into them if you can’t handle the above truths. I guess you’ll just have to trust me on those.

Sincerely,

Joe

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