Subconscious Thesbian Cookery

I just had the wierdest dream from which I have just awoken. It was actually a series of dreams, but I can only remember pieces. One of them featured me being somehow casted simultaneously by Carey Barney to act as both Othello in the play of the same name (which I have played as before in "Goodnight, Desdemona, Goodmorning Juliet") and aleading role from another Shakespeare play, and I remember being flattered that I was being trusted with two lead roles at a time and also intimidated by the sheer amount of line memorization and character development that would be required. I also found this ironic upon awakening because after watching "Twelfth Night" I came to the conclusion that either I didn't do as good of a job acting in this one as I thought I did or I'm just really good at seeing all of the things I could have done better. Anyways both of the plays were interestingly being done during the same semester, echoing the reality of "Twelfth Night" where I had a really short time to figure out my role. I also remember snippets of me hanging around the theater where we have done the plays with some of the people from "Twelfth Night;" I can't say who exactly but I suspect Patrick Benson, George Stoica, Daniel Snow, Cathy Smith, and most of the people from the SLU female apartment near the school were there, given the second half of the dream.

The other half of the dream was at the SLU apartment near school where Sadie, Eleanor, Myriem, Jelena, and Tadz live, but something was wrong with it, because apparently by opening the door from the kitchen, instead of leading out into the hall it just lead into another apartment where other SLUdents lived. I remember something about a lime pie being in this other student's house, or I was making a lime pie, but in either case I got ballsy and went over into their apartment to get something out that I needed, which I guess I wasn't supposed to do, but I didn't get caught. Then I was in the kitchen, which wasn't set up the way it is in real life, and Ealanor and Danielle Lagman were chilling on the couch from the living room which was now at the end of the room in the kitchen, and I was cooking salad and spaghetti for them. For some reason I wanted to grill the tomatoes and some of the salad leaves, for "texture," and then put them back in the salad. I was going to finish the salad later, and I started boiling the spaghetti, which I managed to finish, but then when I went back to finish the salad, which they had already started eating, I got really weak and fainted. They didn't really notice what had happened and it took a supreme amount of effort to sit up and call to them for help, and then Danielle comes over with the spaghetti, but all of a sudden it has lots of olives and spaghetti sauce in it, neither of which I had put in it! Anyways I ate it and felt better, so I could get up again, and as I got up to finish cooking I also got out of the dream and woke up to realize how bizarre it was to dream about cooking for friends. Now I'm really hungry for spaghetti...

How to REALLY make love, not war...

So I was checking out the archives of good 'ol humpjones.com, when I came across this article. Basically, this European couple has found a way to do what I listed as step two in my blog about liberation of the human animal: take something nasty in society, figure out what drives it, and turn it on its head to make it into something awesome: they created a non-profit company called Fuck For Forest, where they sell porn videos of themselves and donate the proceeds to activist lawyers and indigenous peoples in an attempt to preserve the rain forest. Their basic philosophy is, all of nature derives from the drive to create life, in other words, reproduction, in hippie terms, love. In our society, both nature and human sexuality are repressed and disrespected, and through sexual liberation it is possible to liberate the environment. It's a pretty genius system--it removes the potential for gender abuse through voluntary association, elevates porn to a level of art, encourages people to become more sexually liberated, and protects dwindling portions of the earth that remain wild. If only they had thought of this back in the 60's, all those free-lovin' hippies might have actually achieved some of their aims.

Seeing the Dope Show

So I met this girl name Eleanor at the orientation barbecue a year ago, when she leaned back too far in her chair and fell all over the grass. Hilarity and friend-making ensued. I come to find out about two months ago that she's a big fan of Manson (Marilyn, not Charles). She proceeds to persuade me that seeing him live WOULD, in fact, kick ass, and in the middle of November, we show up to the Palacio de Deportes to see the uber-goth mega-artist superfreak scream his guts out. Which he did admirably.


I was surprised to see so many people wearing brightly colored shirts. I guess the Spaniards are a) more casual with their concert attire, b)cross their musical genres more often or c) just don't give a shit about things like that.


For Eleanor, Manson is a god. I've always admired his music, artistry and sense of style, but he never really converted me completely.


That is, of course, until after I saw him live. This concert was the consummation of a life dream for her, and the beginning of new dream-states for me.


During "Heart Shaped Glasses," this animatronic robot came out in a sort of French maid's outfit, but with a corset on (yes!), carrying a tray of stuff, and Marilyn started to sing while playing with her leg and being Mr. Sexy. At the crescendo of the song, he ripped its head off, started singing to it, and made out with it before putting the head back on the tray, at which point it walked back offstage.


Another very memorable moment was when the lights all went dim, and when they came back up for "Fight Song" (one which I was personally hoping he would play), he was wearing a boxing robe and gloves with the microphone suspended in midair, and the ropes all around him. Goofy stunt but still kinda cool.


At another point, he was lifted up on this hydraulic platform about 12 feet above the audience, as multicolored confetti sprayed from the guns on the sides of the stage.

Another time, he started a song with all the lights off; the only thing visible was his mask, which had giant spotlights mounted where the eyes should be, with wires trailing out behind him. Very cool effect.

For "Mobscene" he came out in a suit with the top hat deal. He pretty much changed costume after every song.


I forget what song this was for[edit: this was for Antichrist Superstar}. The lightning thing is his logo. There were a bunch of microphones on the podium but one of them fell down so he broke them all and threw them off. Then he pulled out a bible and held it up in midair and it spontaneously combusted.

I'm sure I'm leaving some stuff out but overall it was a thrilling experience. Oh, did I mention his microphone was a knife? Sweet.

The Ramacastanas Trip

This is waaaay old news by now but I felt compelled to let family and friends *cough*Eric*cough* where I've been going this semester. A Spanish friend, Antonio, invited us up to his house in the country pueblo of Ramacastanas (pronounced: rah-mah-cah-stahn-yahs) in September, and we took him up on his offer. Awesomeness ensued.

The first night was dedicated to drinking, since, after all, it's the country and there is nothing in particular to do. I proved why God doesn't want giants to ride children's bicycles when I crashed into something and banged up my something else. Okay, God, point taken. Then we engaged in storytelling, interpretive dance, acrobatics, and wind tunnel. For those who don't know, wind tunnel is when you shake your head back and forth really quick while relax your face muscles, and then take a picture, with the intention of getting a really bizarre photo. Props to Marisha for showing me this game originally.

The next day was spent at the river. We bought the bare necessities (beer, horribly greasy potato chips) and some actual food and took in more of the gorgeous scenery. I believe Alex decided the correct this to do after eating and drinking was jump in the river. We all agreed that this was excellent advice and followed suit. Some other tourists took our picture, during which time I cursed at them effusively in English to hurry up because my man-parts were shriveling on account of the unexpectedly arctic water temperature. So then we decided to head up a trail and found edible berries along the path. I think they were blackberries. We got to the mouth of the river and climbed up inside, where it looked like a little grotto or a natural day-spa kind of thing, carved out of rock and only a foot or two deep, so we chillaxed there until Alex and Rachel and I think Liz got bored and climbed up one of the rock walls and jumped into the lagoon below. Then on the way home Antonio dropped me and John off near his house and told us to follow this trail, because we could get fresh spring water at the end. Sure enough, a couple hundred meters down the trail it ducked into the foliage, and we crossed a little bridge and there was a couple meter-wide pool of fresh water, creating a little creek to the left. There were water skaters on the surface and the rocks kept floating up and back down in the middle, indicating that fresh water was bubbling up from underground. Very cool and nothing I had ever seen before. We drank our fill then filled the jug and headed towards Antonio's house.

That night was, for me, the highlight of the trip. We made spaghetti and accompanied it with cheap wine, and then we all grabbed blankets and seeping bags and went and laid out under the stars. It was beautiful. If you have never been out in the middle of nowhere and looked at the stars, please plan to do so soon, because it is amazing. It reminds you how very small you are and how very big everything is, and that sense of being overwhelming beauty is missing a lot in the city life, where you can only catch glimpses of it here and there. We played a game where we each say a song lyric in a row. It was really cool because people chose lyrics that demonstrated their personalities, and thus we expressed who we were by letting other people do the talking. I translated what the English lyrics meant for Antonio. Then we discussed the nature of love and other such nonsense before finally retiring indoors (too bad...sleeping outside might have been nice). Antonio later called the trip "one of the best experiences of his life;" it's definitely up there for me, as well.

There are a million other snapshot moments in my head that I'm equally fond of, but really don't make sense out of context; what I remember most about the trip, though, was the incredible sense of beauty, tranquility, and peace nature ceaselessly offers. It served as a reminder that while I may be irrevocably a city-boy, a part of me is always wild at heart.

Ramacastanas Trip Photos

Photobucket Album

Spiritual Judo: A Response to the Human Crisis

A friend of mine wrote one of her sad but beautiful pondering-the-state-of-humanity blogs recently, and inspired me to write a whole separate blog on my own about it. I hope it still makes sense out of context.

"and maybe people really honestly believe [racism] no longer exists... or maybe we are complacent and after all it is well hidden...under this sort of cloak."

We were talking about immigration between the US and Latin American countries in class a few days ago and I brought up that often this issue is just a smokescreen for racism...people continue to fear and forget we're a planet and everyone deserves a little piece of happiness...

"you are taught to care selectively...care about the sad story of a woman with cancer who you see on oprah...care about your family..but you aren't suppossed to care about random people..."

Oh you care about plenty of random people, as long as it is in your interest to care about them. Since we're one of billions our actual lives become less relevant. What becomes relevant is something else we talked about in class today, something I'm sure you as a tool fan are quite familiar with...the idea of living vicariously...more and more we are passive partiipants in our own lives. We want to be voyeurs, see and feel all of the emotions of knowing someone without actually having to invest the effort to do so. Each generation is sucessively more passive, dissecting other people's lives in reality shows so we don't have to do that to our own, god forbid. And glory factor, how the average person on the street an only give us so much attention but we can almost touch the fame of the nothings on American Idol that have become Somethings...not to mention the "DANGER!" of the masses--even a child can figure out that the more people there are, the higher probability that one of them will be a murderer or a rapist...so why trust strangers?

"but...imagine this world if people just cared.

good and evil...why are there so many people who hate and so few people who love?"

Oh, people do care, and people do love. They just do so selectively, as you pointed out. Don't forget cynic's rule #1: People always act in their own self-interest. It's in the definition of the words. It is perhaps not an ideal world where cynics are the only non-delusional people, but that is simply how people work. You love and care for things which benefit you in some way. The problem is sometimes those who do evil percieve it is in their best interests to do evil instead of good, since it is more profitable and runs you less risk of getting fucked if you reach out to the other guy. Game Theory controls the power dynamics, even on a social level, which inevtably leads to human survival and wealth but leaves the beautiful parts of humanity poor and going extinct.

Proof comes from your own writing.

"that you become NUMB and INDIFFERENT to because they are JUST A PICTURE you wont ever know that person and yah its sad but you know...you arent there witnessing it before your own eyes...what about the people you see everyday though...on the sidewalk sitting so hopelessly...those pictures...those images are real"

In another class earlier today, Tannas told us of her experiences in India, where she stayed for four months, and how incredibly different the culture was there--getting usued t the sights, sounds and smells, which were all mainly horrifying, like the image above. And she talked about how over that period of time a sense of numbness and helplessness set in, and eventually indifference, because she realized there was nothing she could do and it's simply the way things are. Apathy is lethal; first it runs a deficit your soul and eventually the blank check--on the environment, on the poor, on the value of a human being--will bounce, damaging you physically in the form of tidal waves, riots, and emotionally generations emotionally maimed people and pleasure-receptor-trained hiveminders.

"and i know i should stop bitching like a maniac and do something proactive instead of sitting behind an energy consuming cancer causing computer screeen...."

I wish I had a 12-step program for liberating mankind. AA already did that for alcohol but I think some of those steps are useful in removing humans from other forms of bondage as well. So here's my 3-step program for human animal liberation:

1. Admit you are powerless to save the world. Adopt the cynic's attitude. History is a pretty good litmus test for the power of self-incentive. In all probability, we'll continue down this path until something big and nasty makes us reconsider the other fork in the road.

2. Reprogram yourself using Cycnic's rule #1 as a motivator instead of a hindrance. Remember why it is that this life isn't in your best interest, and most importantly, replace it with one that is, to the maximum extent allowable under the system. Remember why the risk is worth it, why imagination trumps the cliche, why a moment of genuine connection is more fulfilling than lifetimes of instant emotional fallacy. Create systems that emphasize and reward self-improvement and self-expression, and the sharing of these products in community, as an end in itself, not as part of economic commerce. Trade the ignorant bliss for the terrible knowledge, and be content in that choice. Flip the value switch from instant gratification to long-term reward, from personality to character, from destination to journey. Stage a coup on your heart, and dethrone the false god of Pleasure and restore the Trinity of Truth, Virtue, and Beauty. Not because you have to, but because you WANT to.

3. Since you can't save the world, think smaller. Use that motivation to make ripples in the circles you swim in. Lots of individuals united in making ripples in their immediate vicinity, together create a tidal wave of change. That's the secret: lead by example; act, do not speak; play the hand you are dealt the best you can with what you've got. It's beyond your control whether the cards come out right, but it's not beyond you to stack the deck in your favor. Greatness is just consistently doing a lot of little things right.

"but why don't people care...do people really just not realize???? "

The physical precedes the mental with our species. We've got a lot of lag time between the defeaning boom of material development and the deafening silence of our own ignorance. Our species needs to evolve to the next step up--controlling our animal brains with our human ones, instead of the other way around. Short of an act of God or a catastrophic global emergency, the only way to make this happen is YOU. Be better in all the right ways and breed like rabbits. Cause right now, evolution is favoring the stupid.

Quick Update

It's been a few months since I posted. Here's the gist of what's transpired over the course of this semester:

I'm learning arpeggio guitar. My hands hurt from playing. Very fun. When I get a song down (I'm sure you'll recognize it), I'll post a video. But that's probably a month away, at least.

Flamenco dance lessons are going well, though it continues to be difficult. We have a show at the end of this month, so here's hoping I can pull it off with some degree of grace.

Last minute, the director of the play (who knows my love of theater from previous performances) contacted me because one of the cast had to quit. So I'm taking over as Fabian from Twelfth Night. I've got three weeks before the show goes on to have the role down. So far it's been like a boat on water; my co-actors are hilarious and the lines are almost memorized.

I'm teaching ESL (English as a Second Language) as a volunteer at the school, which in turn brought me some English tutoring work. Extra pocket money and my future career is looking good.

Classes are decent. Interestingly, some classes I originally liked are now not as interesting, while other classes I didn't like as much are becoming fascinating. There are, of course, those classes that haven't changed a bit, and are still as uninformative or frustrating as ever. Case in point is my Islam class, where the teacher, who is a native Spaniard, doesn't understand the meaning of tact, and so while encouraging us to state our opinions, he will listen and then tell us we are wrong, or laugh at us if we haven't heard of some obscure Qu'Ranic reference (I thought that was why we were taking a class?). Or my Latin American Politics class, where the teacher speaks as if he is writing an essay, and consequently it is impossible to make sense of the slew of dates, names, and countries that are thrown at us.

I totally shut down my Islam class when the teacher asked if Islam was compatible with democracy. Pretty much everyone minus a couple people had really orientalist answers, and people kind of parroted the teacher's BS idea of a secular society being necessary for democracy. I'm not saying I don't enjoy having a (more or less) secular society, but it isn't a fundamental part of democracy. So I basically railed on the class for being culturally insensitive americans who want to export their "version" of democracy wholesale to a completely different society. Besides relieving my frustration at the apparent lack of critical thinking skills in the class, I think I earned the respect of the Muslim kids in the room, which was cool. Something about cultural understanding, and we humans all have more or less the same values, yadda yadda. It's funny that it is my Islam class where I have consistently been insightful; I think it's because the teacher is so incredibly provocative that I can't help but say something.

I have an idea for a graphic novel (comic). It's kind of a political/philosophical comic influenced by film noir movies, and picaresque literature: everything is pretty grim, and even the hero is more of an antihero; unlike the typical comic, there are no real sharp divides between "good" and "evil." I've got a handful of characters at the moment, and perhaps I'll practice drawing them since I'm not the best artist while I think up a plotline.

Halloweeen was AWESOME. Went to a couple parties dressed as a pijo (Spanish for snob). I found it very amusing. Here half the people in the room are hippies or goths or whatever they really want to be but don't have the balls to, and I'm mocking them to their face by wearing the crap they wear every day of their lives. It's all costumes; you dress up for work and down for your friends. So why not wear a costume YOU enjoy? That's right, because you are afraid of societal repercussions, so you wait until the one day a year when it's socially acceptable to dress like a slutty businesswoman to do it. Lame. Or maybe you're just not into expressing yourself trough your clothes, or couldn't really give a shit. That's cool. But then why did you dress up for Halloween in the first place? Because you felt it was socially required of you? Stop being societal plankton. When it comes to life, it's sink or swim; floating by is a pitiful option.

I'm uploading photos for a couple of trips I have gone on. Once that's done, I'll blog about 'em. You have been warned.

Manson is coming mid-November! I'm going with a group of friends to see him. It's going to kick holy ass.

Success!...sort of.

So looking back at my goals for the summer, I did to some capacity meet the majority of them. Which really isn't that bad, but when you're a perfectionist like me, as well as extremely hard on yourself, you don't need a dad to tell you that you aren't good enough, since you police yourself much, much better (my dad doesn't do this). Let review, shall we?

1. Get a job and earn $3200: I've made a little more than half of my goal. Perhaps I was overly ambitious, but I still would have liked to have seen myself get closer to this one since it's so crucial. Oh, well, I'll just get loans and put myself deeper into indentured servitude after college. Next!

2. Get a driver's license: I almost did this one...until I decided it was too late in the summer to apply, get the experience, take the actual driving test, and get the license. Plus, I found out that you have to show proof of insurance in order to get a license, and I can't afford insurance, let alone my own vehicle, especially given the previous goal, so this one is out. The goal was mainly symbolic anyhow, more to do with the cutting of the purse-strings and having that much more independence and another skill set under my belt. Not that the lack of a license has slowed me down: I find that, in Monterey anyway, you can get around just fine on a bike, as long as you are in decent shape, which brings me to my next goal:

3. Create and follow a summer exercise regimen: I didn't really do this, but I found that between my job and a weekly bike ride, I haven't had any problems achieving the intention of this goal. I have come home sore almost every day, and my biceps are getting admirably beefy. Stud alert! Ladies beware!

4. Continue cooking for one's self: this was kind of a forced sucess, in that I either had to cook for myself or starve since there are many places for quick, cheap, vegetarian food around Monterey, and I was unwilling to fork out the cash anyway. Most of the stuff I produced was rather canned, though: mexican and italian food are pretty much the staples of my diet. I seem to have lost the cooking bug when I left Spain.

5. Continue playing guitar at least once a week: THIS is where I have grown by leaps and bounds I can play approximately 30 songs now with varying degrees of competence, and I can't help but touch my guitar at least once a day. I've even learned to sing and play at the same time. I have guitar FEVER! And the only cure is to ROCK!

6. Continue writing in my books, as well as writing my books: I have written a few times in the dream journal when I had dreams that seemed to be of some importance; most notably, I had a series of dreams in which my closest family members, a well as the cat, died horrible deaths. Now THAT shit will freak you out. I haven't written in my Spanish journal at all, and for this I feel the most guilty, because I know my abilities will slip. As for my books...I continuallly have more and more ideas for books, poems, etc., and I will write a line or tow of them and then forget them for eternity. Some of the ideas for novels, however, compliment each other, and I'm starting to think thatmaybe my subconscious is putting it all together for me into a cohesive whole, and then one day I will sit down and it will flow out of me onto the page. The problem is, when will "one day" come?

All in all, I did manage to do most of the things I set out to do this summer, but I am still left with a lingering sense that I could have done more...perhaps in the last few weeks here, I will tie up some of those loose ends.

A sudden swelling of pride

Before this semester began I established a list of goals, 5 in total. High on the list was getting over a 3.0 GPA while passing all 6 of my classes. I am proud to announce that this goal was completed! Here are the results:

Environment & Development in Latin America B+
ORIGINS of the MODERN WORLD, 1600 to the PRESENT A
The Spanish Civil War C+
Value, Mind and God B
Latin American Testimony B+
Advanced Spanish Composition Workshop B+

I also met a couple of my other goals, including cooking for myself 4 times a week (I usually did this more than that), playing guitar at least once a week, and some other lovely stuff. I look forward to completing this summer's goals, which include:

-Get a job and earn $3,200.
-Get a driver's license (finally!).
-Create and follow a summer exercise regimen.
-Continue cooking for one's self.
-Continue playing guitar at least once a week.
-Continue writing in my books, as well as writing my books.

To a productive summer!

The Art of Persuasion, Part I

I'm thinking about blogging about how to persuade people. I'll post random tidbits that highlight some psychological principle, and explain how it relates to getting people to do what you want. Finally, I'll give an example of how the government has recently used these techniques to manipulate the American public. The purpose of doing so is not only to highlight the manipulative nature of American society, but also because I believe by bringing these principles to your attention, it allows you to become self-empowered in a responsible way, by allowing you to recognize these techniques when people attempt to apply them to you, as well as allowing you to use them in a good way. With those goals in mind, let's get started.

Tip I: Rapport

What is Rapport?
The textbook definition: "a relationship of mutual understanding or trust and agreement between people." More specifically, rapport is a sense of belonging, a sense of being "in on it," coupled with the belief that the mutual world that two (or more) people are sharing is true and real, usually as well as an expectation that said sense of belonging comes with certain priviledges (and, often overlooked, responsibilities). Ever been on a date that just "flowed," both of you "clicked," and there was a lot of "chemistry?" That's romantic rapport. I can remember dates where the next morning I couldn't remember for the life of me how in the hell I got from point A to point B; that's because I was in rapport, so everything came naturally without having to think about it.

So, in order to establish rapport, you must give the other party the sense that there is some sort of deep understanding between you two. After this is established, it is possible to very subtly guide the symbiotic nature of te relationship towards your objective. Unless you are extremely perceptive, emotionally detached, and a great actor, it is very difficult to establish rapport with someone without getting into a sense of rapport with them yourself. This is because rapport to a large extent is based on body language, which is outside the conscious control of most people. Those who are extremely perceptive, emotionally detached, and great actors, are usually psychopaths, in the clinical sense of the word. They also make excellent con-men. The charming man who comes into the widow's life like a beam of light, and then makes off with her fortune at sundown, is a master of building rapport--in the other person--while feeling nothing for the other person at the same time.

This leads me to make an important distinction. Rapport can be established on a conscious level by a manipulative mastermind, or it can be established on an unconscious level. The problem is that establishing rapport on an unconscious level is pretty hit-or-miss for most people, because people have to naturally have the same body language, interests, values, etc., for that to occur, and the odds are usually against that. So it appears that in persuading people, we are left with two rather unappealing options: firstly, to be manipulative without becoming attached (great for politicians), or hoping to randomly get the "luck of the draw." There is, however, a third option: if you are open enough, and desire to enter rapport with someone, you can generally do so without being manipulative through "empathy." Figure out what drives another person, what excites them, what makes them happy, how they communicate, how they sit, what their attitude towards life is, etc., and then communicate that to them. This can get very, very, complicated if broken down into detail, which I'll be saving for the advanced class, but the main point is this: develop your sense of empathy and use that to develop that sense of empathy with others by putting yourself in their shoes. I getting along with hard-core conservative mormons, astrology fanatics, crazies on the streets of Santa Cruz, your parents, etc., because I am open to understanding their perspective and respecting it, even if it differs from my own. It's all about compassion.

How to screw up rapport? Break that shared sense of reality; or worse, renig on their expectations; or worse, break that sense of trust. Breaking that shared sense of reality would be, for example, when you and your girl and some friends are hanging out, if you were to ignore her for the most part and chat with your friends all night. You have chose the rapport of your buddies over the rapport of your girl, thus damaging your rapport with your girl; conversely, had you stuck to your girlfriend and ignored your friends all night, you would have damaged your rapport with your friends. Going back on shared expectations would be when a marriend couple starts to fight because the husband isn't cleaning the lawn like it was originally agreed on when they got married. This one's a slow killer. If the expectations don't change, or the completion of the expectations doesn't change for the better, this one will poison rapport. Finally, cheating on someone (in the context of a closed relationship) would be a strong break of trust.

Another way not related to the definition of the word of destroying rapport that is quite common is thinking about it too much. If you overanalyze everything you do and say, you are likely to come off as disjointed, and this will kill any chance you might have had of landing that job at the interview. In fact, it would be better to saying anything, but say it comfortably and confidently, than try and figure out what the right answer would be and stutter over it, because then you just come off as false (you are). People will respond more positively to a person who is calm, comfortable, and confident, than they will to a person who may technically be right, but doesn't have charisma. Since women are social creatures, they tend to have a more highly tuned sense of subtlety, and can play it cool while analyzing a statement on multiple levels to get meaning out of it. This creates a problem with communication between men and women, since often women will overanalyze the crap out of what a guy says, when in reality, the only intended message was the obvious one, since men on the whole are not socially evolved enough to understand, much less pick up on, subtext. So, to review: have empathy, don't think too much, act comfortably, and be socially aware. If you can do this, you are more likely to establish rapport, which will in turn make someone more sympathetic to being persuaded.

That's my analysis of the definition of rapport; even more interesting, however, is the origin of the word: ""reference, relationship," from Fr. rapport, back-formation from rapporter "bring back," from re- "again" + apporter "to bring," from L. apportare "to bring," from ad- "to" + portare "to carry" (see port (1)). Psychological meaning: "intense harmonious accord," as between therapist and patient, is first attested 1894, though the word had been used in a very similar sense with ref. to mesmerism from 1845 (first recorded in E.A. Poe)."
For those unfamiliar with Shannon's model of communication, used widely in pretty much all intro communications courses, go study it here. The example sucks, because it makes it sound like encoder, decoder, and noise are all supposed to be technological, but more often than not, they are human elements. The encoding of information is usually the words chosen, the channel is they way the info is presented: verbally, through IM, mailed letter, etc., and the decoding is the other person's interpretation fo the intended message. Noise is any interference in the transmission of the message. On IM, noise could be a dropped internet signal; during a speech it could be a squeaky fan in the auditorium. So, based on this model, which words you choose to use, how much noise gets in the way, and whether or not the other person interprets your message the way you intended, all affect the level of communication.

To get back to the etymology of the word, it comes from the french meaning "to carry back." This applies to the model of communication, except that this model is missing the "carrying back" phase. Here's the model with this all-important phase: feedback. Look at figure 5 (and 6) on that page. To carry back the message=feedback=basis of rapport. Rapport is only established through, as the textbook definition explains, "a relationship of mutual understanding". So when you give feedback, assuring the other person that you understand what they are saying, you are creating rapport. When rapport works well, it is a fluid, ongoing process of clear communication, leading to feedback, leading to further communication, ad infinitum. This is why people sometimes feel like they are talking to a brick wall: there is no feedback. If you have empathy, and are not thinking to hard, you should be naturally creating positive feedback and continuing the communication stream.
The other fascination part of the definition is the psychological part saying it comes from mesmerism. For those who don't know, mesmerism was an early name for hypnotism. I will be covering hypnotism as a hypnotic technique in another tip, but for now, suffice to say that I can attest from personal experience that the fluid, focused state of communication going on in rapport is very, very much like hypnotism. Remember when I said I couldn't remember how I got from point A to B on some dates, much less remember what exactly we talked about during those dates? That sense of amnesia is very common in deep levels of trance. So if you know a thing or two about hypnotism, you will also know something about rapport, and vice-versa.

Finally, I said I woould give an example of rapport being used in the real world. Immediately after September 11th, the nation experieced feelings of rapport with the victims, as well as with the national community. How did this feeling of rapport make persuasion of the populace easier? Bush used the tragedy to justify a never-ending war on terror, which under normal circumstances would have been met with much more skepticism. But in their post-9/11 state, people were in a sense of rapport with the victims, and Bush used the technique of the next tip, Association, in order to channel those feelings of rapport into support for a never-ending war on a concept, an end which, in the eyes of the majority of a still-hurting american public, still justifies its terrible means of violence and bloodshed. I leave you with this to think about: do you think this so-called rapport between the current administration and the populace is based on true empathy, or cold manipulation?

This is HILARIOUS

Enough said. Watch and enjoy.

For more ridiculously nerdy hilarity, go google Chad Vader. No, really. DO IT!

State of the Universe

Why this world is fucked. Hint: we're animals too.
Also, why I'm a vegetarian.
Caution: clip is extremely depressing.

The Hobo Rebellion, or, What I Would Do In the US of A With Too Much Time on My Hands

If I had lots of free time, and was living in the US, I would establish a secret underground society of hobos. After all, there's a lot of them, they're all pretty much crazy and will believe whatever you say, and working together they would eat better and be safer, plus get a feeling of belonging, so assuming they aren't too loony, they'll probably join. Anyways, I would convince them all that Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes' baby is the anti-christ. By this point the organization would be nationwide and would have organized a covert intelligence operation. I would use this to find out where tommy boy is birthing his spawn. Then I would organize a giant hobo revolt. They would bum rush the hospital, and start yelling all sorts of strange obscenities, take the baby, and yell strange things at it, like "Vaginas will bite your dick off," or, "Satan enjoys a refreshing game of badminton" (Of course, I would tell the hobos that these were secret code-phrases that would exorcise the anti-christ from the child). Then, I would have the hobos draw a pentagram on the ground and put the baby in the center with candles all around. Then we would scatter into the darkness (like ninjas)!!!
What's the point you may ask? Well, I'm about to tell you, stupid, so shut up while I reveal the meaning of my master plan. Tom Cruise's idiot "religion" told him that you have to be COMPLETELY silent while giving birth and in the first few minutes of birth, or else the baby will remember whatever is said and associate it with childbirth, and that will somehow allow evil spirits to get in...riiiight. SO, if the Hobo Resistance Army says a bunch of wierd shit to the baby as soon as it gets out, and then he grows up normal (albiet a spoiled little shit, since he's the son of Tom Cruise), maybe THEN Tom Cruise will realize Scientology is for MORONS.

P.S. Hobo-ninjas would be AWESOME. Remind me to do that too.

Relax, Impatient Bitches.

People need to chill out. I am tired of everyone getting up in my space and making me uncomfortable in their endless quest to rush around and use up every second of every day doing nothing of importance. Mostly I don´t really care what other people do with their time, it´s when their shitty attitude affects me that I get pissed.

Case in point: I was walking towards the side entrance to the computer lab on my campus, past this big set of metal doors that swings open--very slowly--to let cars into the private parking lot. Well, as I went to walk by there, a car showed up and the doors started to open. I shuffled past, and the damn car revved its engine to go in, only to stop a second later because the door still hadn´t opened enough to let the guy´s car in. This guy is a moronic unthinking idiot. He is so used to pushing his way past other people to "get ahead" in life, that he now does it instinctually . Essentially the message he is conveying here is: "You should not have crossed in front of me in my big, powerful car. You stood in my way, and the .3 seconds you cost me to wait for you isn´t justified, because I am much more important than you. My day would have been better had you not existed." This subtle act conveys the whole of human self-centeredness and lack of concern for others.

Here´s another example: you are waiting on the bus, and your stop is coming up. You get up to go towards the exit door, but some guy who is also leaving pushes past you to get to the door. Even though it is obvious to any idiot with any IQ of 90 that you´re both going to get to the bus station at the same time, apparently this guy is desparate to get off the bus first. You see it all the time here in Spain. This country is fully of pushy old people who don´t say excuse me as they shove you over so they can wait by the door for a minute or two before they actually get to their stop, creating traffic jams and blocking you in. It´s really quite pathetic that people are so wired to "come first" in life that they will make an effort to be rude to you so they can get off a second earlier than you, because if they are the first one in line, then that means they win at life.

Honestly, people need to stop being mindless cattle, slow down, and start enjoying life and thinking about what it all means, and stop worrying about the petty details. I see people get so preoccupied with the pettiest little things all day long, or do nothing but preoccupy themselves with achieving more and more with their career all the time, that they ignore thinking about what it all means and never appreciate the miracle that it all is. Who, then, is really wasting whose time?

Masturbation isn´t funny

...unless it´s someone else who is doing it.

I rent a room out of a flat shared by two brasilian ladies and their nephew, Jefferson. Jefferson is 26 years old, lays wood for a living, and his favorite activity is listening to really bad music. He likes bad music of all kinds--techno, amateur rap remixes, Britney Spears, and what seems to be Brazilian Mariachi music. He enjoys listing to bad music so much, that he built giant speakers into the kitchen, so that the rest of the house could listen to his bad music and enjoy it with him. At first I found this intensely annoying, but after a while, I somehow developed a taste for it, kind of like how Australians like Vegemite. Now I know most of his songs by heart, so I will croon them as I go by his door, or dance to his shitty techno while cooking.

It was during one of my late-night cooking escapades that the awkardness began. I have a habit of staying up late and cooking when any normal sane person would be asleep. This particular night I decided to make fried potatoes with garlic, not only because they are delicious but also because it was pretty much the only thing I had in the house. As usual a little fiesta was going on vis-a-vis the inexorable speaker music: A bad portugese singer did his best to perform a sonata over a cacophpny of trumpets and accordions.

I had just finished cutting the potatoes when the music stopped. No sooner did I throw them into the frying pan than a new type of music started--a type much less innocent than the mariachi that preceded it. Yes, it was porn music.

It didn´t stop with the music. It sounded someone had thrown a can of nerve gas in a room filled with cheerleaders. This wasn´t just a porn--it was an orgy. No words can describe the feeling of being forced against your will to listen to what another guy masturbates to while doing something totally mundane. It was absolutely surreal.

I wasn´t quite sure what to do. Apparently he had forgotten to disconnect his speakers before he started going to town on himself. I couldn´t knock on his door and kindly explain his error; you just don´t bust a guy while he´s stretching his taffy. Besides, that would be waaay too awkward--I probably wouldn´t be able to look at him again. And I didn´t know how to disconnect the speakers, either.

So there I stood, frying potatoes, trying to decide when to add the garlic, while the sounds of groups of people whaling on each other wafted through the kitchen and out the open window.

It seemed to be an American porn, since occasionally you would hear some guy whisper, "Oh, yeah," but then again, may´be guys around the world say that while making babies. In either case, it was clearly part of a porn star´s bag o´tricks, since every few minutes SOMEONE would say it. The guys must have known what they were doing, because the girls didn´t sound like they were faking it. But then again, pornstars probably have a lot of practive making that shit sound realistic.

Apparently Jeffy-boy has quite a bit of stamina: I finished frying the potatoes, went back to my room, ate them, and when I went back in to clean my plate the porno was still going. Oh well, he´ll need that right-arm strength next time he has to lay down wood. No, that pun was not intended.

Setting up the Blog.

So this is DouG's blog space. This will be the only entry in which he refers to himself in the third person; he promises.

The idea behind putting a blog on the web is to consolidate the occasional mypace posts and the long-promised and longer-delayed "travel blogs" into one place. This way, those who want to read DouG's blogs can look at them whenever they want to, without recieving a long e-mail to links that don't work. Then images can just be URLs, which is more likely to work than the e-mail URL thingy, or at least look more pretty, since they will all be on the same page. At least that's the idea; hopefully it will work like DouG wants it to. In fact, he'll try it below to make sure it does:



.....my PRECIOUS!!!

Rap Music is OK By Me

To anyone who thinks Rap or Hip Hop isn't music:

Go try to sing the lyrics to "Bombs Over Baghdad" by Outkast along with the song. You will quickly realize not only how much talent these guys have, but also how incredibly cool this all is. If you are white, you will probably also realize how funny white people rapping is. I know I did.

If you ever bother to look up the lyrics to some of these songs, they are actually pretty intelligent, not only to fit words into a rhythm like that, but also what they are talking about, it's a complete chnge in perspective for a middle-class white boy like me. And no, it's not "alcohol and bitches"...at least not all of it. Just because Toby Keith is an ignorant asshole and Slayer sings about Genocide, doesn't mean all music in this genre is crap, does it?

In short, stop being so judgmental, stop being afraid to look at the world from a different point of view, stop living by generalizations and stereotypes and start examining the world for what it is. You'll come away a better person.