Chuck Barris, �Confessions of a Dangerous Mind�
So wow � that was probably the longest gap that there�s ever been between posts since this blog started. Of course, I have an excuse � I like drawing out the suspense.
Yeah, I wish it was that easy.
The reality is right about the point that I reached a level of comfort, working at the paper and at the bar, I came into work about two months back, ready to finish my assignments and move onto the next week. I don�t come in early. Coming in early is for sucks. Our Editor in Chief, or top level personnel was already there, as well he should have been since he has the higher position and bigger paycheck. I turned my computer on and got ready to fulfill my lower-level and lower paying duties. The EiC was chatting with a member of the advertising staff as I set up, and at one point he called over to me.
�Hey Dean,� he said, �I turned in my notice, and I�m leaving.�
�I totally believe you,� I said, continuing to set up my section.
He didn�t say anything.
For those who haven�t worked at a newspaper before, there is a hierarchy happening, a hierarchy with a vengeance. The people in advertising commiserate about how the editorial staff doesn�t write copy that�s advertiser friendly. The editorial staff talks about how the advertising staff are the whores of the world. The freelancers powwow about how the editorial staff are the butchers of the written word and the production staff fumes on how all of these departments would be irrelevant if they didn�t put out a visually appealing product. That�s all pretty much understood. So when a half hour had passed and our EiC was still chatting with a member from advertising, I suddenly realized he might not have been kidding.
See, if you�re on the editorial side, your day is pretty much made up of comments to each other about how we�re quitting, which is a statement that comes up about three times an hour. We�re the focal point of all the group dynamics. We�re the ones who have to soothe writer egos when we reword a sentence to make it legible. We have to explain to irate callers who paid for a twelve dollar ad that it doesn�t guarantee a front page cover story spread about how great their business is and why their economic efforts may or may not save the economic viability of Hawaii. Every time the phone rings, especially on deadline, is just about enough to make us all say, �I quit� before the second ring. It�s kind of an insider joke. This is what I thought he was doing. But hearing our editor talk about the logistics of getting rid of furniture, made me realize he wasn�t kidding.
And he wasn�t. He left two weeks later. A newspaper that I joined that had four editors at the time had moved down to two people. One of those people being me. So yeah, since September, there have been two people putting together a paper on a weekly basis. I�ve been busy.
A week before he made that announcement, I asked for permission to take a day off so I could go visit Kelly back in California. My plane ticket was bought by the time he announced his departure, and I was sticking to that, so I did what I could to make sure we wouldn�t be behind on copy.
While I was gone, my father, 80 percent of the reason that I moved here, decided to let his heart rate slow down enough to the point where he collapsed, leading him to be taken to the hospital and having a pacemaker installed.
So I got back and started work on filling in the sections from our now departed EiC and working with the hospital, which had a lot of questions about my father. They, working with him and seeing his lack of interest and near-suicidal nature, were asking about the fact that he lived alone. They contacted me and said that wasn�t a possibility now, and that he needed full-time care, suggesting hospice alternatives.
Which they wanted me to pay for.
The case worker outlined the whole program of what was available for him, once I made it clear that I couldn�t pay for anything past breakfast mints. Since he was old, meaning he had Medicare, Medicaid and Social Security, he could get set up with a host family who would collect all his benefits and then make sure he didn�t starve to death. But there�s a family in Hawaii who�s currently under court action for locking their own daughter in a closet and starving her, so the thought of another family taking on elderly patients and giving care above the quality level of say, a British nanny, seemed a little suspect.
�OK,� I said, �I live in a four bedroom house, renting out one of said bedrooms. That means he can�t move in with me, but is it feasible if I rent an apartment? I won�t be there at all hours because I�m working two jobs, but I can take care of things like making sure he takes the proper medication.�
�Oh no,� the case worker said. �His memory gaps are so bad that he needs 24-hour care. He didn�t even remember me when I visited him earlier.�
�Yeah,� I said, �but my father worked in the medical field. He doesn�t like any of you. And now he�s dealing with a constant barrage of people in a situation he abhors � interns, doctors, nurses and custodians � and so it figures that he�s stopped paying attention. You called me David when you first walked in, and yet nobody is questioning your mental facilities.�
That didn�t help.
They brought the doctor out to talk to me, and I explained my father�s disposition. �Well, that�s fine,� he said. �He doesn�t have to like me, or even recognize me. But the fact is, he had a pacemaker installed and he doesn�t remember that. That, to me, shows the signs of dementia.�
I didn�t have a smartass answer for that.
---
I�m off topic, which is to be expected when there has been such a long time lapse between entries. Kelly visited here, and we swam with sharks. I visited California and went to the ugliest hotel in the world, a place with rock-wall showers and entirely too much pink d�cor. I even have pictures of both of these events. But I haven�t had time to write these things down.
At the same time of those events, I�ve been swamped by the paper, meaning that even when I had free time (which wasn�t much), the last thing I wanted to do was spend more time typing, seeing how my fingers were worn down to the nerves as it was.
These few moments of downtime were/are probably the worst. I could have been reading. I could have been writing. Instead, I was/am passively consuming random things from of all places � the Internet. I�d check my e-mail. I�d look at bulletins on MySpace, I�d troll though Netflix. And all of those things ultimately made me hate the Internet.
---
�Marvelous technology is at our disposal, but instead of reaching up to new heights, we�re gonna see how far down we can go � how deep into the muck we can immerse ourselves!�
-Eric Bogosian, Talk Radio
---
Look, I�m sure it�s as trite to complain about stupidity online as making fun of spam, but it�s just too obvious, and unfortunately, nobody seems to be learning. And so, the point of this entry comes down to these points:
Basic copy errors will happen, no matter how severe the grammar Nazi, but the trend of acronyms and emoticons HAS TO STOP. To the people who type *LOL* after every sentence, I have to say I either doubt you are actually laughing out loud, which makes you a liar, or you�re retarded � either way, I�m probably better off not being around so you won�t cloud my gene pool.
The gradual acceptance of others of said acronyms and typing shortcuts, and the instant access to dissent or acceptance has led to a general disregard to accountability. Perhaps I�m romanticizing things, but I think I remember that people used to only want to assign themselves to. Now, however, with things like the community ratings on Netflix, people are perfectly willing to assign critiques that sound like they were written by a second grader who has been sucking nitrous. �Movie didn�t make sense,� they write. �Watched 10 minutes and shut it off.� You can�t judge a movie in the first 10 minutes, moron. Unless you�re watching Legally Blonde. The willingness these people have to attach their review to their name should apply to college admission requirements as well, if only so other student�s experiences won�t be as painful as mine.
Actually, that instant opinion is the biggest problem, and why I hate the Internet so much at this point. I was all for the camcorder revolution when it was being used to show police brutality. Now, however, it�s used for idiotic self-expression, and it�s made people famous. Consider Chris Crocker, the jackass who became famous for his plea for others to leave Britney Spears alone. A video that was obviously a joke became a media sensation, and spawned a multitude of parody videos that were equally unfunny (so much so that the original video is buried under search engines).
Worse is the comments posted after the video that started it all. The majority of them (over thirteen thousand when I first found the video) were less than five words, simply saying, �OMG that ruled!� or �u suk.� The effect is like filling out a survey that you find boring (which I know you do, because you repost them with titles like, �Stupid boring survey�). If they�re that stupid and boring, why do you feel the need to subject the rest of us to them? Are you that superstitious about not reposting, and if so, doesn�t the karmic implications of subjecting the rest of us to such drivel compel you to not repost?
So yes, I�ve been reading, but not writing. And during this time, I wonder if my tales of airline mishaps, family troubles and drinking shenanigans aren�t contributing to dumbing down of the culture? Who really cares what I think anyway?
This book is a perfect example of that � Barris, with his alleged connections to the CIA and his direct involvement of killing other idiot comes off as rather uninteresting. Personally, I�d rather hear about his stint on The Gong Show. Instead he concentrates on the fantastical elements, thinking that�s what we as a public really want.
Perhaps it just me, but I�d rather hear a story about real life experiences, told well.
And that, I suppose is why I�m still writing. Infrequent as it is as of now.
