11/29/04: Discipline, discipline, discipline
You know, it's interesting, running a bullshit website.
It seems like every time you come up completely dry on the idea front, when you
feel like hanging up your mousepad, somebody else steps in with some content.
Today we've got a new review from cW, and an entire post from CT in San Francisco. The best part about CT
is that I actually don't know who he is. Well, maybe I would if I knew his
full name, but I don't know that, so as far as I can tell, CT is a legitimate,
discreet reader and not someone I know from real life. These creatures are rare;
CT is one of maybe three documented cases in the history of this site. Rarer still is a legit
reader who has something to say, and rarer even than that is a legit reader with
something intelligent and interesting to say. CT meets all the criteria, so I humbly present
his thoughts on discipline:
"Reduced to a 32oz Coors, and my bottle of Korbel brandy
parked elsewhere temporarily, I will attempt to take on some of your issues from
a California perspective.
Some time ago you were talking about disciplne, or a lack thereof. First, let me
say that discipline is largely overrated. Discipline, by itself, accomplishes
very little in life; it is, I assert, always discipline coupled with something
else that allows greatness to be achieved. Discipline, as it were, is a crutch,
a cane, an old lady's walker, a vehicle which enables this assemblage of
creatures, born wicked and lame, known as humanity to rise above its own nature
and reach for ...well, whatever.
There's a pretty good Chinese restaurant in Oakland I've been going to for about
fifteen years. It's one of those family-run, family-owned-since-the-fifties kind
of places. Mom and Pop are out of the picture and the two 40something sons run
it. They painted the interior last year for the first time in about 30 years,
and then they put some cheesy murals on the wall. But they kept the poster size
photos of the Emperor's Imperial City that must date back to the late sixties.
Obviously they mean something to the family because no one who ever walked into
the place ever thought: "Hey, I'm gonna spend a whole lot more on dinner just
because they put those lighted-from-behind photos on the wall." Anyway, Oakland
is alot like Brooklyn or NJ as I understand it. Oakland is where remnants of the
real SF reside, ever since the real SF had its heart cut out in a swath of
yuppiedom destruction as wide as Sherman's salt tillage.
Anyway, this Chinese family walks the straight and narrow, but that is not
disclipline. Why? Because it's a very short walk from effort to reward. Every
day they work hard. Every night they add up the receipts. There is never a time
when income does not adequately exceed expenditures. Doubtless, they own the
building. Discipline might be evinced in their lack of excess body fat. RATHER,
discipline is evidenced more in the waitress I've been jonesing on for the last
fifteen years. She's got a husband she detests. Her employers (the
aforementioned family) barely acknowledge her existence and certainly provide no
rewards. She has two kids who are both attending UCDavis, probably to become
doctors. She barely speaks English. I always give her a 2 dollar tip instead of
the customary 1, so we're friends for life. What keeps her going in the face of
insurmountable odds? DISCIPLINE. Nothing else. What does she get out of her
life? Nothing but hard work and two kids who probably resent everything she's
done for them. Does she get to have a fun time with some white guy who'd treat
her miles better than her husband? No way. She's got discipline. It's what gets
people out of bed in the morning and keeps them chained to their post.
So, in my 'umble estimation, discipline similarly does not do various things.
Discipline does not keep people awake way past their bedtime reading interesting
things, either in a book or on the web. It does not spur a body on to such
alcoholic greatness that he wakes up in the morning to discover that his pickup
has inexplicably grown an entire chain-link fence onto its back bumper where
there was never one before. Discipline does not give that boy the mystical
ability to avoid the police while dragging a chain link fence all the way home
in the middle of the night. Nor does discipline provide the inner fortitude to
wake up after tieing one on and only four hours sleep, to go to work and suffer
through the day. It specifically never gave any writer of the English language
(worth reading) the sticktoitiveness to finish a work of genius that inspired
more than one generation to think, to feel, to grope and grasp for knowledge. It
did not give Shakespeare his genius, nor did it ever give all those physicists
in the last hundred years the ability to envision something no human being had
ever seen before (except that scam-artist Einstein, who could only envision
shtupping those nearest and dearest to him whilst donning an affect of harmless
affability). It NEVER gave one that fleeting glimpse of eternity that might
follow a balmy rain. I doubt anyone in the Chinese restaurant, overlord or
underdog, ever quite finds the time for such things.
Discipline may have gotten Arnold where he is today, but to the Germanic mind,
discipline and self-inflicted torture are already a form of life-affirming
pleasure. I think that's enough hyphens for one essay. Where can I find some
hymens instead?
Well, what's left? Ritalin for the sufferer of adult Attention Deficit Disorder?
I've had ADD all my life. You mean if I started paying (more) attention than
I already do I'd be happier? Good luck and good night."
Thank you CT for those thoughts. Maybe I should be happy my
mind is in a thousand places at once.
And we forgive you for drinking Coors this one time.
I hope everybody had a good Thanksgiving weekend. Mine
was nice. Ate a bunch of food, played some ball, watched a lot of VH1
Classic, the wife and I cleaned up our palace. For some reason, my left ankle
keeps jamming up on me. It's sort of weird. Most of the time, it's totally
pain free, and then all of a sudden it's so tender I can't put any weight on it
at all. Then ten minutes later it's fine again. Any doctors out
there want to diagnose this one for me?
Sometimes our job here is to report and offer commentary on
what we report. Other times, we just report. So today we direct you
to the
60 Minutes Website and ask that you click on the video of the interview with
Dustin Hoffman. Once you got that all worked out, fast forward to the end of the
interview, just so you can hear Hoffman tell a mediocre joke and punctuate it
with a high-five request:
"You wanna hit that,
doncha?"
Go ahead and cringe. Laugh. Cringe again. Finally, nod in awe at the
pure power of the Hoff-meistah. If that's not sampled in a top 40 song in the next three months, I
have lost touch with the taste of the American people.
Denver + Snow + Football = Fun
OK, here is IMAGE #19 in the GISG.
You can start guessing at noon. This one might be kinda easy and/or lame
but that's the way it goes in googleville sometimes. Here are your
up-to-date standings:
pb dot c - 3
joe m. - 3
crsmal - 3
sponsor - 2
chris b. - 1
sita - 1
