Read The Email!

I tend to write a lot.

(This public service announcement brought to you by "No, really?")

As I'm sure most of you were aware from either work, HMB or just this blog, I tend to use lots of words when writing. (I do pay them extra for all the work, though.)  However, I don't think I use a lot of words unnecessarily. After all, if you're vocabularistically inclined, there are plenty of words out there to get an idea across concisely. (Even without turning nouns into verbs. There are already verbs that do what you're trying to do. My current pet peeve is "operationalize". Just... why? Why would you do that to the English language? What did it ever do to you? Longest running pet peeve: impactful. No. Just no. Don't do that.  Even my spellchecker agrees that these are not words.) There's often just a lot of information I'm trying to communicate.

Plus, I really just enjoy writing convoluted sentences sometimes.

There is a method to my moderately meandering madness, though.  (Aside from alliteration and asides, albeit.)

I once heard that there are two methods of explaining something. One is to jump straight to the point, and only include background as needed. The other is to start with the background, and then gradually make your way to the point you're trying to get across. As you might guess, I tend to mostly use the second method, although I can use the first if I really need someone to do something and I don't want them to not actually notice the request.  When it comes to storytelling, I find the buildup helpful, and when it comes to answering questions, I find that the background helps keep people from jumping to inaccurate conclusions.

I've been told I'm a decent teacher (on a purely amateur, one-on-one basis; I claim no classroom expertise whatsoever), in large part because of my willingness and ability to clearly convey large amounts of information. So while I may suck at small talk, I don't suck at explaining things, especially in written form.

Therefore, it annoys the everliving heck out of me when someone asks a question that clearly indicates that they didn't read what I wrote. It's one thing, obviously, if I accidentally left out crucial information. That doesn't happen all that often, but it's been known to occur on occasion.  But I usually don't, and generally the information that they're asking about is clearly (and often prominently, since I know what the important stuff is) spelled out in the email already.

So why the heck did I waste all that time carefully crafting an email giving you all the information you needed, if you're not going to read the darn thing?!? Is reading comprehension so hard? Or have we all just gotten used to two-line emails that barely convey anything?

Dang it, my emails are masterpieces! They're constructed with specific thought given to priority of information and requests, background information needed or which might be useful to get what I actually want, and often a dash of "here's some helpful instruction that will let you do this on your own next time", because while I like being indispensable, it's better for the company if more people know more things.

And, of course, there's no polite way to say, "Try again, and actually read this time." (And oh, there are some people I'd like to say that to.) Instead, if I'm feeling snarky, I'm stuck saying something like, "As indicated below...", and then reiterating the relevant information, because I'm darn well not going to not get the point across that I already said this and it's not my fault if they didn't read.

Fortunately, you, my dear readers, do not vex me so, although that may simply be because you're not reading this far to begin with and you're not really responding to my posts, so I don't know that you're not reading this far. But man. Some people, man. Some people.

Some people just need to read the bloody email.

(Fun fact: I actually started this post shortly after the small talk post, and the title was originally the line about not sucking at explaining things, to get a nice parallel going. However, I couldn't really make it work as a post at the time, so it just sat in my drafts until recently, when I had a particularly aggravating experience with a non-read email, and realized I could repurpose most of this old post and save myself some time.)

What is Real?

(Despite the title, this blog post will be markedly lacking in stoned freshman metaphysics.  I’m sure you’re all relieved.)

I came across this article the other day.  (Funny how many of my posts seem to start that way. It’s like my version of “A funny thing happened on my way to…”.  Anyways.) I think it’s a great article that makes a lot of very good points.  Of course I do, or I wouldn’t be bringing it up, right?  However, I wanto to unpack those points a little in a broader context.

First of all, just to get it out of the way (and this is my only real beef with the article), she’s clearly unaware of (or forgetting) the definition of strength having to do with potency, which means her causation link is wrong.  We don’t call “manly” drinks strong because only men could handle such high-proof (or high-tasting proof, anyways) drinks, we call them strong because they are literally more potent potables (no, you don’t get a link for that one.  If you don’t know it, I don’t want to know you!). However, she’s right that stronger drinks are generally considered “manly”, so the general point still holds.

Besides that, she’s got a fair point overall.  Back in college (most absolutely once I was past drinking age, naturally…………), I was a sweet drink person.  I couldn’t take shots without wanting to
vomit, and I didn’t like beer yet, so that didn’t leave a whole lot, y’know?  But nevertheless, despite not having grown up around drinking at all (wine coolers don't count), I still managed to internalize the sense that I was supposed to feel shame about drinking them, because they were “girly” drinks.  (My workaround was Long Island Iced Teas, where the manliness of the strength seems to outweigh the sweetness in popular opinion.) 

 
(Random question: why doesn’t rum and Coke seem to count as a girly drink?  I get Jack and Coke
(blech) because of the whiskey, but the rum doesn’t have that association.)

Now, of course, I’m much more likely to drink (good) beer (generally from a bottle or a glass,  although more microbreweries are starting to can, which is perfectly fine) or scotch than I am to drink something like a cosmo or a mojito, but that’s simply because my tastes have changed.  And it took someone who I respected telling me he didn’t care what I drank for me to start to be okay
with liking sweet drinks.  (Thanks, Chad!) 

And needing to be told that for the external validation is a whole different issue, because I shouldn’t need to be told that it’s okay for me to like a “girly” drink.  If my drink of choice happens to be cosmos, or mai tais, or whatever else, who cares?  What should it matter to anyone else?  Why does liking those drinks make me any less “manly”?

Why?  Because as a society, we’ve created this idea of what a “real” man is, and that idea doesn’t
include drinking sweet drinks.

Now, as a white male, I’m not going to talk too much about internalizing toxic societal narratives, because I have a better sense of self-awareness and self-preservation than that. No, instead my interest here is about language, because I am Stannis.

So let’s look at some definitions, shall we?

The definition (well, one definition, anyways) of “real” is “existing or occurring as fact; actual rather than imaginary, ideal, or fictitious”.  The definition  of “man” is “an adult male person”.   (I admit I’m not up on the latest gender theory, so hopefully this definition addresses gender identity appropriately.)

Therefore, by definition, a “real man” is someone who is an actual adult male person.

That’s it.  That’s all.

There’s nothing there about what you drink, or eat, or wear, or do for recreation, or how you talk, or how you treat others, or anything else.  Are you an adult male person?  Congratulations, you’re a real man!

Of course, that’s not exactly an advertising bonanza.  And so people start trying to ascribe additional meanings to the word “man”, to mean someone who drinks whiskey, or wears Wranglers, or helps women out of cars, or watches NASCAR, or whatever.  And they try to say that only a “man” who does those things is a “real” man.

But that’s obviously not true, and there’s a couple problems with it.  One is that many people may not
agree with your attempted redefinition of “man”.  The other is that now you’ve converted “man” from a simple dictionary definition to an idea. A “man” is now someone who does certain things, acts a certain way, etc.

And you can try to define “man” that way if you want, but first, go take a look at that definition of “real” again: “existing or occurring as fact; actual rather than imaginary, ideal, or fictitious”.

“Rather than ideal.”

As soon as you start ascribing any meaning to the word “man” other than the dictionary definition, you can no longer use the word “real” in front of it without being wrong. You’re literally using a word in a way that is contrary to its very definition.

(As much as it even hurts me to do it, even Steven Moffat's line at the BAFTA falls into this category.  I absolutely agree with the sentiment, but it's still definitionally wrong.)

And of course languages changes, definitions change, meanings change, and that’s fine.  (More
chances for me to use archaic and obscure definitions!) But I’d argue that “real” is one word, one concept that cannot change.  You don’t get your own definitions; you don’t get your own sets of facts.  If we can’t agree on the fundamental definitions of things, how are we supposed to communicate?

And then, of course, the people doing this compound the issue by making it into a value  judgment. Only “real” things, as conveniently defined by them, are good, deserve respect, whatever.

Real, by definition, has no value judgment.  It’s as value-neutral as it is possible to be.  Something exists, or it doesn’t.  Is that good? Bad?  That’s up to you, but it has nothing to do with whether or not it’s real.

By altering the very meaning of the word “real”, we’re building alienation, differentiation, and a whole lot of other “ations” into the very fabric of our language, and taking away the ability to have any sort of common ground.  If mere existence and definition is imbued with value judgments, then meaningful communication becomes nearly impossible.

Of course, “man” is hardly the only case where this happens, it just happens to be what spun out of my introductory story.  Here are a couple others (this is vastly non-exhaustive, but will at least keep this from sounding too sexist):

“Real mothers”: Oh God, I don’t even want to go here, but it needs to be repeated as often as possible. (And I’m not meaning to be paternalistic here; my female friends seem to feel this way, too, so I’m just helping out.) The definition of “mother” is “female parent”. That’s it.  Are you a female
parent?  Then congratulations, you’re a real mother! 

Notice that this definition says absolutely nothing about feeding methods, working or SAH, or anything else about how you deal with your child.  Female parents are real mothers.  Period.  If you’re trying to crowbar value judgments about parenting methods into your definition, you’re wrong (and also probably a jerk).

“Real Americans”: In honor of the upcoming election season (although at this point, when isn’t there an upcoming election season, aside from when it’s an actual election season?), I thought I’d give this one a shot, too.  The definition of “American”?  “A native or inhabitant of the United States of America”.  (I’m paraphrasing slightly).  That’s.  It.

Very few things make me angrier to hear than politicians trying to devalue and dismiss the opinions and beliefs of their opponents by claiming that “real Americans” want certain things that just so happen to align with their policy goals.

I know that I hold different political positions than many of you, and I don’t feel that makes you any less of an American than I am.  (Hopefully you feel the same!)  Attempts like this to squelch discourse and discussion through redefinition are incredibly toxic to our political system as
a whole, because they promulgate an us vs. them mentality that may help win elections, but which makes impossible compromise and reconsideration.

As I said, this is hardly intended to be an exhaustive list, because the number of things we’ve loaded up with value judgments and called “real” is simply ridiculous.  “Real” cars, “real” beer, “real” curriculums, “real” videogames, “real” Christians, "real" Muslims, "real" everything.

What is real? Fact.  Provable, cut and dried existence.  Any other use is an abuse of language
in the service of an agenda.

And Stannis doesn’t like abuses of language.

Movies You Love More Than They Probably Deserve, Part II

Hey, we're back with another installment!  I didn't really plan on making this a series, but the mood struck me, and since it's my blog, I can write whatever I want, unless it makes you all leave,  because I don't really want to make you leave.

Anyways, as you might recall, the premise is:

You know you have them. Those movies that, for whatever reason, be it sentimental, or just that they strike you the right way, or whatever, you just love, even though you know they're not that great of movies. Or that they're honestly really terrible movies.

Last time, we did three: Mallrats, Boys and Girls, and 10 Things I Hate About You.  This time, we're doing four!  So let's do this, shall we?  One, two, twelve, eight!

Bring It On

Just to be clear, I'm only talking about the first one here.  I haven't seen any of the "sequels", or franchise movies, or whatever they're called. Because why? Why would anyone think that's a good idea? Well, I suppose they thought they would make money, and they obviously did, somehow, so more power to them.

Anyways, this certainly isn't a good movie. It's not a BAD movie, either; there's nothing outstandingly, glaringly wrong with it. Some of the backup cheerleader (inspiration leader?) performances are spotty, the family and boyfriend stuff is meh (male cheerleaders, enough said), and Kirsten Dunst is, well, herself. But overall, it doesn't have a standout flaw.

So why do I love it? Well, Kirsten Dunst and Eliza Dushku, first of all. I'm sure the reasons there don't need to be explained.

But the real reason took me a while to figure out how to explain, because I feel much about this movie like I do about something like Center Stage. (Yes, Molly, I like that one, too, even though you did make me watch it instead of Gladiator.) At first I was thinking of it in terms of something like "alternative sports". These aren't your standard sports movies, obviously, but they're still about movement and discipline and athleticism and stuff.

But obviously that's not quite right, either, because that's kind of stupid. What it's really about is the music and choreography, which made me realize that these are ultimately preying on my appreciation for musicals. Right? Dance routines, catchy music, etc. They're musicals without the singing. And who doesn't like musicals? (Well, actually, lots of people, apparently, but they're wrong.)

Plus, spirit fingers.

Empire Records

What made me think of this movie? Who knows where thoughts come from? Well, actually, Rex Manning Day a month ago is what brought this movie to mind, although I made sure not to dwell. Not on Rex Manning Day.

Anyways, this movie is truly underappreciated, at least going by the IMDB rankings, which are clearly filled out by bananaheads . Sure, it's got a few flaws. Berko and Eddie are rather underutilized for characters to seem in some ways to be set up to be more important to the Empire crew than they are. The GWAR interlude, while amusing, is kind of random and not THAT funny. And the ending is WAY too pat.

The movie also can't seem to decide whether or not it's going to have a plot, or if it's a "day in the life of" movie. There's nothing wrong with either, it actually isn't nearly as bad as that previous sentence made it sound, because the movie still hangs together well, and besides, the director doesn't need to explain his art to me.

Lucas is actually one of the biggest things that throws me about this movie, because we're told several times by the characters how oddly he's acting, but we haven't really seen enough of him to have a baseline for his normal behavior. To me, his behavior in the movie is just how he is, which makes it jarring when everyone says that's NOT how he normally is. A tiny nit in the scheme of things, but sometimes it's the little things that throw you out of the movie.

All in all, pretty minor stuff, especially compared to what's so awesome about this film.

First of all is, of course, the music. The soundtrack to this movie is fantastic, and also totally reminiscent of high school at this point. Heck, even "Say No More, Mon Amour". (And AJ is completely wrong about the Queen Sarah Saturday song that he vetoes at the beginning of the day. I love that song.) But that's the obvious one, because that's what everyone likes about the movie.

This movie is also endlessly quotable, although I've so far managed to work in distressingly few lines. Lucas is especially quotable, which is part of what drives my complaint up above. But really, everyone gets some pretty good lines throughout the course of the move.

Which brings up the next point, which is that this is an ensemble movie that actually works as an ensemble. There's really no main character to this, and everyone (barring, as mentioned, Berko and Eddie) is pretty well fleshed out as a character. Heck, even Warren gets some pretty good character development, and we never even find out his real name! Even better, Liv Tyler is not the main character!

I recognize that I may be in the minority here, but I'm not particularly a Liv Tyler fan, even in the looks department. I mean, she's pretty, of course; not many actresses aren't. But in general, I tend to prefer other actresses in any given movie that she's in over her. (I get why book Aragorn married Arwen, but movie Aragorn totally should have gone with Eowyn. Although that would suck for Faramir.) But I suppose AJ can be forgiven, although choosing an art school based on proximity to her seems... risky.

I also really like that there's an extended edition, although some of the reshuffled scenes were a bit jarring at first.

Man, summer break needs to get here so I can watch this again. Damn the man! Save the Empire!

Mars Attacks!

I debated whether or not to include this one, since it's got a pretty decent cult following. It's also a bit in the "so bad it's good" category, but since it does so deliberately, I'm going to give it a pass.

It does make it a bit hard to identify what's bad in this movie, though, especially since I don't agree with a lot of the common critiques. I know many people find it random, stupidly silly, or just plain dumb. These people are missing what's there! No, what's there is a movie deliberately playing on B-movie tropes, while packed with an incredibly all-star cast.

I mean, just look at the cast list in the link above!  This is ridiculous, and most of them are in there just to die in various ways.  Jack Nicholson plays TWO different characters!  And the only survivors are Natalie Portman, Jim Brown and Tom Jones.  Tom freakin' Jones.

And while I get that some people might not appreciate the humor, I think this movie is hilarious.  That divisiveness is probably the movie's biggest downfall.  But in response, I just have one thing to say:

Ack!  Ack ack!  Ack!

Saved!

Continuing with the exclamation point theme, we'll wrap up with this one.

Much like Bring It On!, there isn't really a glaring flaw in this movie.  Mandy Moore's character is a bit too mean to be sympathetic, as is Eva Amurri's.  And while I'm not as big of a Mandy Moore fan as some (naming no names...), she's fine here.  This isn't a spectacular movie, but it's fine.  Much like 10 Things last time, it's not that I like a bad movie, it's just that I like it more than you might expect.

Something about this movie just strikes me, though.  I think it's a few things:

I've always enjoyed Jena Malone, especially in this stage of her career (Saved!, Donnie Darko, etc.).  She's very girl-next-door ordinary, which makes her exceptionally relatable.  And for some reason, her mix of complete astonishment and exasperation on the line, "You're performing an exorcism?" just gets me every time.

And the same thing goes for Patrick Fugit, with the exception of the pronouns.  They're both, like, totally adorable, especially together.

But most of all, I like the message of the movie.  I think it actually strikes a great balance of subtlety, in that despite how it might appear on the surface, I don't think it's actually anti-religious.  It's simply taking on certain attitudes and approaches that are, shall we say, less than productive, while still being respectful on the whole.

So anyways, there you have it.  Four more movies.  Thoughts?  Agree or disagree?  Any of your own you'd like to share?  Let me know!