I’ve been doing some thinking lately about job titles. Specifically, I think job titles need to be re-imagined to better reflect the job’s function. To that end, I propose the adoption of what I call “The Guy Title.”
For example, Joe the IT specialist will become The Computer Guy. Or if Ted specializes in keeping the network up and running, Ted becomes The Network Guy. Fred who keeps everyone’s email up and running? He’s The Email Guy.
Of course, the Guy Title system easily extends beyond the IT department.
Photographer? Meet the Camera Guy.
Web Copywriter? Web Writer Guy.
Marketing Analyst? Poll Numbers Guy.
Package Car Driver? Delivery Guy.
Pizza Delivery Driver? Pizza Guy.
It’s a pretty simple formula, and chances are you’re already using them in conversation anyway. I think, that by taking these conversational titles and turning them into official titles, employees will have a much better understanding of exactly what’s expected of them.
The Guy Title system also makes interoffice communications easier. Have a problem and you need it fixed? Shout the name of the problem and attach “Guy” and there’s little doubt who should respond.
Now, I know you’re wondering, “But what about management?” Well, that’s just as easy. Simply add a “boss” for department heads, a “suit” for division level, a “-y” for C-level positions. Thus, the Chief Marketing Officer becomes Market-y Guy. The IT Division Manager? Computer Suit Guy. Customer Service Manager? Complaint Boss Guy.
And ladies? Don’t want to be called a “Guy”? Think about it this way, if payroll is determined by job title, there’s not really anyway to be paid less for the same job.
Ah, the Franklin Mint. You’ve stood too long and produced too many “commemorative” items to go without some serious checking.
Wow! Don’t you feel patriotic! Don’t you want to own not one, but fifty pieces of American history? Well, let’s hope not, because then we couldn’t be friends. Let’s dissect a commercial, shall we?
I didn’t want my family to miss out…
Bandwagon
Ah, an appeal to emotion. It’s so passive-aggressive. Did you see what she did there? Here’s how it works based on a faulty premise – because she cares for her family, she bought them the product in this commercial. Because you have yet to do so, you don’t love your family. And she’s a better mother than you. Better start dialing now.
on a piece of America that’s valued today…
Appeal to Patriotism
Insert an appeal to patriotism. It’s worked before, and it’s technically true. Currency is technically a piece of America. As for value, we know that, it’s $12.50. Fifty quarters. That’s like a single person’s trip to the laundromat!
…and will be even more meaningful tomorrow.
Hasty Generalization
Define meaning. If you are equating “meaning” to “value” then you’re assuming that this set will be worth more tomorrow. And true, some coins will be more valuable tomorrow, but most won’t. Not bad, three logical fallacies and we’re only 9 seconds into the commercial.
So, thanks to the Franklin Mint, I gave them not one piece of American history, but fifty.
Questionable Math
Obscure Pronoun Use
No, thank you! Wait, since this is a work commissioned by the Franklin Mint, aren’t you self-congratulating there? So, it’s not a collection, a single entity, but fifty quarters?
The grammar nerds picked up on this one right away. In the above sentence “them” implies Franklin Mint, as that was the last noun used prior to the pronoun.
This is the complete collection of fifty commemorative state quarters from the Franklin Mint, a value never to be seen again.
Contradiction
Faulty Premise
And the first contradiction. It’s not fifty pieces, it’s a collection. And here’s the first use of the term “value.” Value is a really wonderful term, it’s not fixed or provable like “cost” or “price.” Value differs on a person to person basis. That’s some lawyered up language there.
That last bit “never to be seen again”? That’s a nice bit of false assumptions there. The Franklin Mint isn’t the only people selling these commemorative collections, but they would like you to believe they are, and that one day, they’ll stop.
These coins are in brilliant, uncirculated condition, have never been in circulation, and will never be minuted again.
Appeal to Authority
A fine example of making up a word that then turns a sentence into a redundant construct. The assumption at the end is a fairly safe one, but because an “authority” was used to make it (Jay W. Johnson, 36th Director of the U.S. Mint), we’re expected to assume it’s true. Mr. Johnson was the director of the U.S. Mint for one year (2000-2001), and since went on to work for both The Franklin Mint and Goldline International.
In fact, many have already increased in value, some as much as 400%.
Questionable Math
Yikes. This one is really bad. An increase in value of 400% for a US quarter is…are you ready for this?…$1.00. Seriously, do the math.
Oh, and were you able to read that fine print? Here’s how the Franklin Mint tries to cover their asses through tiny text: Historical increases in value do not guarantee that coins in this program will increase in value. So, even if those coins had increased in value before, there’s no guarantee they’ll be worth that much in the future, or even now. Because a lot of things can change the value of an object…like increasing the supply.
Why do I own these rare quarters representing every state in America? Because they’re a value I can pass on, that’s too good to pass up.
Straw Man
Appeal to Patriotism
Non-sequitor/Gambler’s Fallacy
Asking yourself a question is poor form in rhetoric. Why? Because when you do that, you frame an easier argument for yourself in the mind of the audience. By the way, did you catch the tasty irony I just used?
The answer provided can actually go one of two ways depending on how it’s punctuated. If Franklin Mint is playing it safe, and put a comma or period in that sentence, then it becomes a non sequitur. The first sentence says that the quarters are rare, and implies value. The second sentence asserts that the value would come from the ability to pass the quarters on.
If we remove the comma, than we fall into the Gambler’s Fallacy. By passing these quarters on, the speaker is saying that these quarters will eventually be worth money.
In today’s economy, who needs uncertainty? This is a solid, all-American value.
Appeal to Fear
Appeal to Patriotism
Questionable Math
Yeah, the economy sucks. That solid, all-American value? If you bust those quarters out of the case and take them to the store, you can buy $12.50 worth of groceries. Unless the economy collapses, at which point, they won’t hold any value beyond the usefulness of the metal. Have fun trying to eat quarters.
Call now and ask how you can be eligible to receive the first ten quarters absolutely free. We will also tell you how you can attain the remaining forty coins to complete your question, as well as a free display, this special collectors booklet describing each coin, and a certificate of authenticity. As a bonus, you’ll receive “Hidden Treasures Around You” a guide to valuable coins that might be in your home right now.
What a sick block of text. Here the Franklin Mint is trying to sweeten the pot by promising free things. If we take this block at face value, that means that the customer is only paying for the quarters. All fifty, you’re paying $12.50. Get ten free and the price drops down to $10.00.
Call now because many of these mint condition coins are scarce and many have increased in value, some as much as 400%.
Questionable Math
Unfounded Premise
Ah, that 400% number does sound impressive, doesn’t it? And you should call now, because many of these “mint condition coins” are scarce. Scarcity is the source of value in physical goods, isn’t it? But we’re presented with this claim without any proof. How scarce? Which coins?
Today, it’s almost impossible to find a complete set of these quarters in mint condition and they will never be minted again.
Contradiction
Appeal to Authority
First thing’s first. Impossible to find? Hardly. You’re contradicting that claim by selling these sets. And the second bit? Now you’re just repeating a second fallacy. Repetition of a falsehood does not make it a truth.
If only I had bought that back then, look what it’s worth now. Now I say, if only I had bought two or three of these collections.
Hasty Generalization
Appeal to Emotion
A double whammy!
The first fallacy is implied. The argument is as follows, “Some coins rise in value. These are coins. These coins will raise in value.” Or not. You never know. But statistically, they won’t.
The second is an appeal towards happiness, or more correctly, away from regret. Don’t regret not purchasing these coins, buy them and be happy instead.
Less than 1% of Americans will ever own this complete collection. Will you be one of them?
Questionable Math
Snob Appeal
Less than 1% of all American’s sounds really small, doesn’t it? I mean, since it’s “less than,” it could mean like thirty people. However, it could also mean one person less than 1% of the American population. Taking a recent round U.S. population number, 330,000,000, that means no more than 3,299,999 people can own the set. That’s more than the population of Iowa, the 30th most populous state.
Knowing the reality of that number takes the impact out of the next claim, but the motive is implied. Only a lucky few will own this set. Are you part of the lucky few? Text book snob appeal.
* * *
For those actually interested in buying a set of these quarters, street value $12.50, you can contact the Franklin Mint. If you catch a commercial while it airs, you can get the set for two easy payments of $19.95. If you order online, you’ll be paying $49.50.
Let me please preface this by saying that my friend Summer has a job that I am exceptionally enviable of – she works at the Hayden Planetarium in the American Museum of Natural History. That very museum has released a video using 4D mapping technology to impart just how little we are when compared to the grandeur of the entire universe.
Don’t be thrown off by that explanation, 4D mapping is just a method used to equate space and time as measured by light. I can’t crunch the math on it, which is why Summer is safe from me taking her job, but the theory basically states that time and space are the same thing.
The video itself is stunning, and can easily impart a sense of interstellar loneliness on the observer. And it made me instantly flash back to a video that probably had a far greater impact on my childhood than anyone at Warner Brothers Animation intended. Of course, I speak of Yakko Warner’s Universe Song
That song does a fairly good job of driving home an existential crisis, doesn’t it? To think, this show was aimed at grade schoolers.
For those who prefer to feel insignificant with a more upbeat tempo, and loads more British thrown in to boot, there’s always Monty Python’s Universe song from the classic film “The Meaning of Life.”
And I suppose I should say something uplifting now like, even though you got a parking ticket today, you can take heart in knowing that at that very moment, a star, somewhere in the far off reaches of space, was born. But really, that’s not my style. Instead, I’m going to be logging of the Internet in a bit to get back to work on my book.
My current goal is to complete the first draft of Project Kingdom by February 14th. Valentine’s Day. How many stars will be born between now and then?
The Internet is nothing if it ain’t a powerful resource for pranks. And why not? It allows large numbers of people to exert minimal effort to create powerful inside jokes. That, ladies and gentlemen, is what local TV news anchor, and friend of the blog, Ryan Nobles appears to be doing.
For those not local to Richmond, the city finally succeeded the diamond-shaped hole that was left with the Richmond Braves baseball team left town by bringing in a replacement. There was a whole mess of news stories and controversy about this attempt hinging first on where to put the stadium and then on the mascot.
Richmond's Terror That Glides From The Trees
Let’s talk about that mascot, and the no-goodery I promised in the title, shall we? It’s a Flying Squirrel. Not exactly an image that strikes terror into the hearts of visiting teams, but the company is trying to make Richmond baseball a family-friendly event and I’m okay with that. What I am really okay with, however, is that apparently the local paper, the Richmond Times-Dispatch, is holding a contest to name said mascot.
Enter Ryan Nobles. Apparently Ryan thinks that the mascot should be named after another local-legend and friend of the blog, one Weather Dan. So, Ryan put out the call today to have everyone vote along those lines.
So, Christmas is a scant three weeks away, and my mother is starting to get frantic. It seems I’ve gotten so used to recession living that I seem to have lost the ability to “want.” So, I figured you all know me pretty well, and you’re all forward-thinking snappy dressers with impeccable taste in movies, music, and books, why don’t you tell me what I want for Christmas?
The image above, Merry Sithmas, is the product of one powerpig on the Flickr.
The other night, I picked up what is perhaps one of the most futile card games ever as an iPhone application: War.
You remember the game, don’t you? A deck of standard playing cards is shuffled and divided into two armies. Each player overturns their top most cards, the high card “captures” the other, conscripting said card into the winner’s army. Stalemates are met with a “battle” in which four more thrown into the mix, and, again, the high card captures the low card and its reserves.
The entire process is largely determined from the initial deal, with a huge statistical advantage going to the player which happens to land three or more of the deck’s aces. Why? Since the cards are played in the same order, the concept of luck only factors in on that first deal, everything else follows a countable pattern. And since there is no actual skill involved, players can easily walk away after that deal and return for the results.
As a game, that’s horrible. It’s the exact opposite of fun. War manages to reduce a deck of cards to the same level of enjoyment as accounting balance sheets. Obviously, this has to change.
So, in order to make War fun again, I propose two slight modifications to the rules.
First, players do not immediately return their winners and conscripts to their playing deck. Instead, these cards are set in a second deck. When the playing deck is exhausted, the remaining cards are shuffled. This helps to randomize the game and makes it somewhat less boring.
Second, in the event of a battle, each player will draw four cards as in the traditional game of War. However, instead of always turning over the fourth card, the player will choose one of the cards to overturn. Again, this small change allows further factors of chance.
Because these two rules change the flow of the game, making it more random and, well, modern, I’m thinking of calling the new game Modern Warfare 2.
And yes, that was a punchline.
The answer to the obvious follow up question is: Dayquil.
As of right now, Saturday’s weather is looking to be sunny and in the mid-sixties, potentially marking it as the last friendly grilling day of the year. Which makes it perfect to be the first Grill League of 2009.
When and Where?
Location: Powhite Park (which is right next to Jahnke exits on 150) Custom directions.
Date: 14 November (this Saturday)
Time: 2ish to 6ish
This park does not have any amenities – no chairs, no playground equipment, and no bathrooms – but it is secluded, safe, and has plenty of parking. This means we can grill to our little hearts content.
What should I bring?
Plates/Utensils
Drinks
Chairs
Sidedishes
Blankets
Balls / Frisbees
Sense of adventure
Grill (if you can)
…and something to grill.
Remember with your grilled item, it should be something you can cut up into small pieces so that people can sample. This is, after all, a community event.
If you can’t bring a grill, but can bring charcoal or lighter fluid, that’s cool. We can keep any extras for future events.
One of the things I like most about Richmond is the perpesensity of locals to use social media to arrange real life encounters. Truthfully, it’s how I’m organizing Grill League, but there are dozens of social media events, complete with hash tags, organized via Twitter and Facebook. One such event is the Fireside Wine Chat (#FiresideWineChat) which is organized by my good friend Cristinia. The event is basically a weekly get together at Cristinia’s house which involves alcohol, laptops, and a fireplace.
Now, Cristinia lives a good half-an-hour drive away from my house, so on the way home from last night’s Fireside Wine Chat, I found myself flipping through the radio stations at nearly one in the morning. On the two local classic rock channels I was able to hear the Kinks’ “Lola” not once, but twice, but in flipping through through the “we play anything station” I managed upon this little ditty.
If you were alive in the eighties (as I was) and rode a bicycle (as I did), chances are you stumbled upon the campy film “Rad.” And not only did you stumble upon it, but you dreamed of riding your bike through a Kix sponsored cereal bowl on the way to winning the love of Laurie Laughlin. Yes, that is what we daydreamed about as babies of the eighties.
So, here, for your nostalgic pleasure, is Real Life’s video for “Send Me An Angel” which I caught in it’s entirety on the radio in 2009.
I am a fairly large proponent of the Andalusian concept of duende – the secret longing that seems to plague so many artists. The sense of hurt that exists below the skin, a malleable emotion which can be pushed and gently prodded to evoke the entire human gamut and allow audiences to tap into the sense of pure, albeit broken, humanity that ties us all together.
It was during a spoken word lecture by Nick Cave to the Poetry Academy in Vienna (full lecture in text – opening in audio) when I was exposed to the concept of duende and within the back of my drunken mind, my quest suddenly had a name. For years I had scoured art in myriad mediums, looking for scraps of what I suddenly knew as duende. That universal longing that seems to tie humanity together.
Even before placing a name to the concept, I knew my motivation – a working theory that if I surrounded myself with works imbued with what I wanted to portray, I could one day convey that type of experience.
Over the years, my album collection swelled. As did my library. And my film collection. Not to mention the sheer volumes of words I’d written. The bottles I’d emptied. The loves I’d lost. The cigarettes I’d reduced to butts and stubbed out. And from that mottled collection, I started to notice a trend.
A trend I’ve come to know as Maria.
Behind every piece of great art, behind everything that exemplified duende, there was typically a broken heart. Not the realistic end of a relationship, in which the good gave way to the gray, and the gray gave way to the pain. Not the kind of relationship which petered out. No, the holes created by Maria are different. These are the relationships which ambush the soul, which are not foreshadowed and which never grow to true fruition. They are comfort and connection and need which is too frequently snuffed out.
They are short, with passion that can only be described as explosive, if one is to dwell in metaphor.
You see, it isn’t possessing Maria which creates duende, it’s the brushing, the perception, the glimpse of what could be, of potential that marks Maria. Maria is the driving force from Linklater’s “Before Sunrise.” Maria is the focal point of numerous songs from the greater parts of Bob Dylan’s early catalog and the haunting he recalls for his later works.
Maria is the ghost which haunts the artist’s soul.
Josh Ritter altered Maria’s name, choosing the American “Marie” for his criminally overlooked “The Temptation of Adam.” (video) To attain Marie, to be with his Maria, Ritter was willing to risk nuclear war and the destruction of all of humanity if it meant a continued relationship. Melodramatic, to be certain. But understandable? I think so.
A careful look at Ritter’s lyrics shows the truth of Maria. Though the happy ending is occasionally fostered in works inspired by Maria, reality is never so kind. The truest concept of Maria isn’t the having. It is the potential. Maria is a relationship marked by loss. Ritter’s Adam didn’t cause the war, and was forced to live with the memories of nights spent making love and days spent “ransacking the rations.” He lost Maria, and it was the loss which, on second thought, would have had him launching the missiles.
Dylan never got his Maria, either.
No one ever does. That’s what makes Maria unique, she is able to exist wholly in the mind – free of flaws, of reality, of humanity. In that way, Maria becomes a God, a concept which can’t be touched, which can only be embraced by logic-defying faith. Maria becomes a vision.
And through that holiness, Maria becomes a ghost. Exalted, yet haunting in the same breath.
Yes, hearts broken for Maria do not stand a chance. How can they? The piercing of a fictional blade knows no remedies. Time might dull the pain, but it never removes it. That longing, that duende, is always there. Days can pile up and obscure it, but one awkward glance, one glimmer in a crowded place, one wayward phrase or familiar scent is enough to rip that wound back open.
The mind is a terrible lover.
So, artists who’ve encountered Maria do what we do – we create.
Sometimes the art is a direct attempt at healing, founded in the belief that working out the relationship with Maria, with exposing the fiction to reality, of “showing the warts” might somehow lessen the pain. Others, the truer attempts to capture the vision of Maria, are appeals lodged in the misguided belief that “If my art is true and honest and powerful, she will come back.” Neither work, but both offer some important truths.
The first truth in either motive for creation is that Maria will not return. And the artist will not feel better. Yes, the chances are the art will be recognized for what it is – a love letter to Maria (whomever he or she may be) – but in the end the artist will only have spent a considerable amount of time focused on what ideally should be forgotten.
The second truth is that others will find that art, because they too have visions of Maria. Those of us who spend our days and nights in constant searches, in quests to remember our own visions running in parallel to quests to forget them, we all form a sense of global community. A loosely organized federation of hearts addicted to seraphim, of soporic romances. Of that glimpse that could never survive reality.
But in the end, in both the first and second truths, the reality is that Maria will never be again. The joy is in having been exposed to the fiction, the purity, and having that come through the ether. The experience might have meant a constant longing, but in the end, it was something real. It was something. And today, who can argue with that?
Bradley Robb likes TV and books, and has an intense dislike for cinnamon. Once, Bradley stopped a Soviet T-60 with his middle finger. Bradley writes speculative fiction and edits Fiction Matters, and never really got the hang of talking about himself in the third person.