Media The Magic Man: An essay on "Framing" class and the disappearing act of the the American conscious

This is the title of the essay I'm working on. I'm going to pat myself on the back for this one, although I pretty much pat myself on the back (with a nice lil' TY to the JC) on everything.

This essay wasn't hard to write because I feel reallllly passionately about the subject i.e. how the media leads us to sympathize and (attempt to) emulate the rich, famous, and upper-class when in reality we're way more closely related to the impoverished and working-class Americans we reject and try to distance ourselves from.

HAPPY!

On that note, Halloween party tomorrow! I'm going as a modern vampire (pics will follow) with his fiery vampire bride. Ironically, this vampire bride also bakes exceptionally well-made cupcakes. Cupcakes that we're bringing to the Halloween party tomorrow that, sadly, none of you will be at :[

P.S. This is what I look like at 3:00 in the am after a day of essay writing.



Also, here is a little excerpt from my essay. If you love me, you'll read this. You're lucky I didn't copy and paste all of it in here.

"This practice of "social framing" by the media not only perpetuates guiltless consumerism and impassivity, but it replaces empathy and concern at a communal level. Consternation with the well being of one's local, national, or global well-being has been thoughtlessly replaced in American youth as well as adult audiences without blame or moral ramifications. Instead of being motivated to aid the less fortunate, intellectually menial and hard working common people, society has been deluded and coerced into fighting harder to further seperate itself from any association with the "bottom of a the barrel", decieving them into raising themselves insignificantly small incriments closer to the impractical "good" life depicted by well-placed advertisements and unfeasible broadcasted lives.
As Americans, we must work to undo these false standards orchestrated by the media. We must recognize the absuridity and self-obsession in trying to achieve the materially and socially unachiveable, all while allienating and neglecting the pauperized and losing any sense of urgency in the call to resolve these societal crisis. We need to put down the remote, leave the magazine on the rack, mute the commercials and reinstitutionalize a sense of reverence for the prosperty of our nation as a whole, not limiting our consideration to the wealthy and monitarily successful we wish to emulate. We must find conviction in our actions (or lack thereof) and work to save our impoverished and working class, not abandon it."

"Please, Baby, Please"

So as some of you may already know, David Bazan (aka the man who sings the song "Slow Car Crash", the song I made my latest YouTube video for) and his band manager want me to illustrate a music video for the single "Please, Baby, Please" from Bazan's new album coming out next year.

The deal is: I make video, if they like it they show it to their record label, if the label approves of it, they can get me paid for the video.

The coolest parts: they sent me the finished full instrumental cut of the song that is going to appear on the album, because it's only been played in live acoustic performances thus far. This makes me feel like a kid with a really great secret. The second part is that they gave me David Bazan's personal e-mail so I could reach him if I needed to have lyrics explained to me.

Honestly, I love this song they gave me. It's going to be hard because it's twice as fast as "Slow Car Crash", more upbeat and alive, ad it's a minute longer. Long story short: a buncha drawings.

But I also like what this song is about. It's about being on the road and away from the one that you love. It's also about the importance of honesty and sincerity to this person, and the end of the song covers the repercussions of failing at these things.

When I woke up the next morning,
You looked right through me
Through your eyes crying,
I could finally see

They said, "please baby please"

When I called you from Atlanta,
You refused to speak
Not three days sober,
Begging for a drink

And I said, "please baby please"

Those two pairs of big blue eyes
Stare me down, watching me fall
But what makes a man realize
That he's about to lose it all?

Sunrise at the County Lock-Up
Now our baby's twenty-three
She was out late drinking,
Killed a mother of three

And she said, "please daddy please"

"Please"

Everyone needs to be on a mac, already

I have been getting a lot out of that lil' MacBook Pro, lately.

Thanks to the winning combination of Andrew and Kyle, I now know about even more ways to realize that my mac r00ls.

Me and Aubrey seriously hosted a Stickam chat of us screaming at our macs to do stuff with the customizable speech commands.

And now I have Adium, the amazing all-in-1 program that lets me be signed into Messenger, AIM, Yahoo Messenger, and alll of these messaging programs from around the world that I've never heard of at the same time. And the level of personalization is fantastic.

jsdjkhaf

Man, I love this machine.

He was originally green, but I made him purple. (yeah, you can even change the color of the duckie!)


I spent too much time personalizing my window/What's this?? Aim & Messenger in the same window??

SLEEEP

I have had precisely an hour and 13 minutes of sleep. I pretty much want to die.

Also, I solved some problem challenged to us by my prof. in math class that I solved all on my own on the board in front of anyone. So she left the class to let whoever wanted to solve it. So after finishing the problem with help form no one, this jerk in the back row had the audacity to say "Well, I see you got the answer but I don't think it looks right."

To which I said "Trust me, it's right."

To which Mr. Jerk replied "Well, for the record, it doesn't look right."

*Prof. walks back into math class*

To which Prof. exclaims, "Hey, you're right!"

I felt so vindicated.

Lastly, here is evidence of my sleep deprivation-induced craziness.

I'm happy that you're happy!

Human beings are weird. There is no way around it. Our hearts and minds and souls and mouths make things that are so complicated and bizarre and beautiful and ugly loving and hateful and strong and proud and weak and shy and a whole mess of other things.

We are a paradox; both infinitely difficult to understand and yet blatantly simple to comprehend at the same time.

But let's get down to proverbial business.

Specifically, I'm addressing the idea of happiness. To be more specific in my specificity, I am specifically talking about our capacity (or lack thereof) to feel happy for one another. Because as human beings, we rock at empathy.

Main Entry:
em·pa·thy
Pronunciation:
\ˈem-pə-thē\
Function:
noun
1: the imaginative projection of a subjective state into an object so that the object appears to be infused with it

In more simple terms, empathy is the ability to project someone's emotions unto oneself to "feel" what they feel.

I say we "rock" at it because most speculate that human beings are the only creatures on God's green earth that really exhibit empathy. It is also speculated that our empathy for each other is what gives us our unique sentience that separates us from the other life forms on this planet. For example, in the animal kingdom, it's survival of the fittest. If you're sick and gangly and weak, your animal butt is going to be eaten by a lion. The lion is not going to look at you and say "aw, poor little guy. I know where he's coming from". He's going to eat you. Possibly with A-1 sauce. Nothing empathetic about it.

So that's why we rock. We're the only things on this planet that know what empathy is.

But we also really suck at it.

Here's a rhetorically-emphasized example: A friend calls you. They tell you about meeting amazing people at school. There was laughter, inside jokes, phone numbers were exchanged, and everyone left smiling and promising a reunion in the near future.

One can react to this scenario in two ways:

1. Feel empathetic towards said friend. Rejoicing in your friend's new social skills and telling them how stoked you are. Giving them a verbal pat-on-the-back. You leave the phone call feeling anxious and excited because you know exactly, or at least can imagine, how your friend feels.

2. Being the flawed people we are, we could also react with irritation and jealousy. Maybe you would feel offended that you weren't invited to this get-together . Instead of positively encouraging this person, and sharing joy with them, you find yourself annoyed, or upset that you didn't have some "amazing" night out for yourself.

Plus! You don't fool anyone when you act like this. When you are happy and you want somebody else to be empathetic and be happy with you, and they show no signs of interest or concern with what you feel, it sucks. No way to put it elegantly; it sucks and it's a freakin' bummer.

And this is why we are weird. Sometimes, we struggle with being happy for each other so much. Usually, it's because of our own insecurities, I'd say. In fact, a lot of us only want to hear about the good things happening in other people's lives if we have good things happening to ourselves that we can brag about, too.

It might not be something you ever thought about, but it's there in a lot of us. The unwillingness to be happy for others unless we are personally happy.

So in my efforts to being a better person, that I am sincerely trying to be lately, this is something I recognize that I want to work on. To be authentically happy for the joy and life experiences of others. I'm trying not to get caught up in jealousy, or insecurity or general bitterness. I want to feel stoked for you! I want you to feel like you can tell me anything, about your happiness and blessings and good fortune.

And I promise, I will do what I can to be happy for you, too.

:]

It's my party!

So I bought a bunch of new cool clothes today. Normally, I don't buy a whole lot of clothes so this is very out of character for me.

I got the following:

1x Super cool black coat. Would look good with a white button up and slim tie underneath.

1x Nostalgic, retro-style Star Wars shirt. With jeans and Converse, I'd say.

2x Flannel-looking shirts that are actually made out of thinner material, but have the same flannel "look". Aubrey very much inspired me to buy these.

1x Paper Towns by John Green. Because everybody else is freakin' reading it, might as well read it myself.

...What?? I don't have to make some deep, thoughtful blog entry every time I post in her, do I?

John: You're house looks so Oregon-y! Look, he's got a yard and trees. Where do you live, the forest?"

W.W.J.D...?

Meant to be read while "The Ballad of Love And Hate" by The Avett Brothers plays in the background.

But seriously, I've been wondering about this statement. Sure, there's a lot of WWJD bracelets and lanyards for keys and t-shirts, and WWJD is the butt of many-a-joke. But when you get down to it, WWJD? is an extremely profound question.

Lately, I've been making a serious effort to ask myself "What Would Jesus Do?". I mean, I could go at this question from a real surface-y level and use is as a reminder to be good. Like, imagine a first grader reaching out to take a cookie from another kid, but catching glimpse of his WWJD bracelet, and stopping to put his hands back in his pockets. There's nothing wrong with that, but I want to think of this question as more than a "shame-shame" moment.

To ask WWJD? is to put yourself into the perspective of somebody who loved the world so much that he died for it. As I said before, this is a profound thought.

To love somebody is not impossible. To love someone so much that we could certainly offer our life for them and more, isn't impossible either. Naturally, when we care about somebody, we hope for their well-being and safety and happiness. Yes, Jesus would do this.

However we must then ask ourselves: Would I love my mother when she yells at me? Would I love my friends when they can't make it to the movies? Would I love my sister if she used my art supplies without asking permission?

Or harder still,would I love my neighbor across the street enough to say "hello" or welcome them to the neighborhood? Would I love my enemy, even when they insult me? Would I love the beggar on the corner, or would I condemn him letting his life come to this point?

This is what I'm trying to work on. My unconditional love. I'm working on asking myself honestly, "What would Jesus do?" in every situation.

On a day like today where I had to completely take care of my two foster brothers by myself, one having epilepsy, no use of his legs, and cerebral palsy and the other having down syndrome and type-1 diabetes which has to be constantly monitored if I don't want him to go into a coma or worse. Or, in this same day, my sister coming home from the University of Oregon with chest/breathing problems, and driving her to the Urgent Care myself and having to wait in the hospital waiting room for over 3 hours without a single other person there.

And every time I stressed over it, I'd try to come at it from Jesus' perspective. I'd think about that unconditional love and willingness to sacrifice. And honestly, I would feel so much better about everything. A calm would wash over me, and I'd shrug because I'd think, "Well, if he could die for me, the least I could do is babysit and keep my sis' company."

So I guess what I'm asking you to ask yourself WWJD? and even if you're not a spiritual person, or a person who has absolutely no belief of any higher power, I urge you to honestly think about how unconditional your love is.

There's a lot of hate, prejudice, hostility, apathy, intolerance, and lack of caring about each other out there.

So if asking what Jesus would do doesn't really do anything for you, at least ask yourself this:

What Would Love Do?

You want to get married?

Not to me, sheesh.

Just letting you know that I do wedding photography. It's pretty much the most difficult, stressful thing I've ever done. Ever.

But these still give me lots of good feelings.



You have to click on this one to see the full "landscape"

WWW.Friends?

Meant to be read while Rocky Votolato's "I Remember Music" followed by Votolato's "Cut Me In Two" plays in the background.

P.S. I really hope you all make an actual effort to read these blogs to the songs I wrote them to.


Here is a unique scenario:

Me: So, (insert: John, Aubrey, etc.) was saying the funniest thing, they were like-

Friend: Who?

Me: Oh, somebody from YouTube. Anyway, they were saying-

Friend: So, an "internet-friend"

Me: Well, yeah, it's not really like that... But anyway

Friend: What do you mean?

Me: I mean... I don't call them an "internet-friend". They're just my friend.

...

Has this happened to any of you yet? I thank God that in the short amount of time I've been making videos for YouTube, I have met amazing people. No quotation marks around the word met either. I am at a point where the relationships I've started and developed through the internet have become significant, worth while relationships that I plan to hold onto as long as I can. People whose well-being I sincerely care about. People who have made me laugh, cry, imitate them, call, text, and plan on seeing.

A great example of this is John, aka DudeNeedaEaseOnUp. A person who can stay up past 5:00 in the morning, talking to me simply because I asked him to be there to talk to. During our talk, he asked me why these online relationships are so unique, and why many of us have these friendships that, sadly, aren't present in our physical lives.

Here is what I told him:

We have these friendships because we can't take them for granted. In your physical, "real" life, somebody can be there at almost any time. They're a phone call away, a 15 minute drive, or another school district away. The friendship is existent without any obstacles to challenge it, or test it. You don't have to worry about the next time you'll see them again, because you know that they aren't that far.

With the amazing people we've met across the country, or around the world... We have to fight for these friendships. Time zones and state lines, deserts and oceans keep us all appart from each other. Sometimes, all you can do is type in a username and a password and pray that somebody will be there when you are. So much stands in the way of our friendships and relationships, whether it be the physical obstacles or cultural and societal standards telling us that we should not be making these friends.

To fight for somebody like this, to consistently work past all of the things that could easily keep people apart, will build these totally unique and significant relationships. We make these friends because we work so hard to keep them in our lives, to learn more about them, to care about them and even love them.

We recognize all of the simple opportunities we'll miss. We can't go to the same schools, we can't wave from across the street, we can't plan a trip to the bakery, we honestly cant even have a day of sitting around doing nothing.

So we don't waste the time we have. We can't waste it.

And that's why it means so much.



<3's for you guys. I hope at least one of you can walk down this path, some day.

Oh, leave me a message.

BEEP.

I think I see it different.

Meant to be read while "Slow Car Crash" by Headphones is playing in the background.

There's a lot of beauty that is taken for granted. I can look at an abandoned, rusty truck on the side of the road, buried beneath pine needles and unkempt grass. and be captured because of the way it looks in the autumn light. I see the character the orange-brown rust, and I see interest in the defeated machine.

I stop walking and I wonder to myself, what is the story? Maybe somebody used to love this piece of junk... Maybe this forgotten monument used to mean something. Maybe it was some boys first car; his right of passage into freedom. Maybe this is the same car he drove to pick up his first date. Did his friends used to sit in the back, loudly banging on the sides and screaming at each other through the windows? Did he ever lay on the hood with anyone and stare at the stars? Did he ever drive home, drunk from a party? Did he take it across state lines and visit far away places he used to dream of going to?

Maybe, it just couldn't last. Maybe someone was supposed to fix a broken carburetor, but never got around to making the trip. Maybe money got tight, and he had to sell it to somebody who couldn't love it as much as he did. Maybe... He just didn't need it anymore.

I will never know this truck's story, and there might not even be one nearly as good as I imagined. I'm okay with that, though. I see the beauty in it, and I like to think I can see the beauty everywhere.

Don't take anything for granted. You will miss so much if you don't take a second's time to open your eyes. And God forbid it disappears before you thought to look.

...Is now in session.

What an amazing day. Simply put, I feel so artistically refreshed and inspired. Being back at The Art Institute of Portland just feels so good right now.

Let's start at the beginning. English with a professor that I reallly like. Always assigns good reading and always provokes me to think. I made a joke about my name and the class laughed. This is a good sign. I think this'll be a fun class.

However I am still extremely socially awkward with girls I don't know. This doesn't sound too bad, but I forgot over break that girls out number boys at my school in a 3:1 ratio. It's a sea of canvas, charcoal, knee-high boots, Photoshop and estrogen.

I got really baffled when the cute redhead from English sat across from me at lunch. Instead of making a nice conversation and talking to this girl who obviously wanted to be spoken to, I cowered behind my laptop and made Twitter updates about cowering behind my laptop and making Twitter updates. Super cool, Zack... Super cool.

And now, for the most mind-blowing part of my day, Basic Photography. The first thing we did was look at this amazing camera collection my professor had. He had everything from novelty Mickey Mouse cameras, to glass slides from the turn of the century, sealed off in plastic so we wouldn't ruin the antique. It was too much.

Thennn he went on to talk about his past work. 15 years at Nike, including doing/being in charge of the photography when they created Nike.com. Pioneering digital photography software for Apple when Photoshop wasn't even around yet. Creating holograms, doing the photography for the "Spruce Goose" and other famous aerial machines in museums, all sorts of nature photography, shots in Paris, Ireland, Volcanoes, etc. And even working at ILM!!!

Seriously, it was unreal. My jaw dropped to the floor and I could only think, "Wow. THIS is the guy who is going to be teaching my photography class. Job recommendations from him could open a lot o' doors."

So yeah. I am just so stoked on life/school right now. Can't wait to work my butt off to be top of my class. khasdfkjaskjdfha

No more words to describe it. Like I said, stoked.

Also, here's a picture I took of my school!

More Halloween junk

So Meghan told me to draw something fall-ish. And that's why I did.

Yes folks, you're looking at the costume that never was. Something that I still remember to this very day, and something that I'm sure many of you can relate to. You see, back in grade K, I vividly remember that for Halloween I wanted to be the red Power Ranger.

I remember excitedly getting the mail and finding a costume catalogue that I'd flip through over and over again, cover to cover. Of all the costumes of all the super heroes, I wanted to be the Red Ranger.

However, there was trouble in paradise. See, my parents were really uptight about Halloween as a kid. They weren't so much against Trick-or-Treating or anything like that, they just didn't feel a huge need to buy me a costume or anything. Horrible people, I know.

So I'd go to school on Halloween day, where our whole class would come to school in their costumes and have some big themed party. Including black and orange frosted cupcakes. Do you remember the little spider rings that they would put on top of those?

Anyway, during each class party, we'd all get into a line and walk around the school in our Halloween Parade. Do you know how embarrassing that is without a costume? It was more like a walk of shame. Think of the years of therapy I'll need to remedy this!

So each year I would go on costume-less, and each year my parents would remain uptight. Grade K, it was the Red Ranger. First grade, Batman. Second grade, Dracula. Third grade, Werewolf.

And then, for no reason at all, in Fourth grade my parents finally let me get a store bought costume. It was glorious. I still remember the trip to Party City, scouring the isles for what would be my first real Halloween costume.

I think I kinda went overkill, though. You see, all those years of repressed costuming made me pick out the craziest, most over-the-top costume in the store and I was Darth Maul that year. And none of that cheap stuff, either. I had a rubber mask, long black cloak, battery-powered light saber and everything. Oh, yeah. It was awesome.

So here's my question to you, folks: what's that one costume (or maybe more!) that your parents didn't let you get because it was too scary, or too expensive? You know you have one.

I want to know!

This is a face...

Meant to be read while "Along The Way" by The Honorary Title plays in the background.



This is a face that says...

I think I feel crazy. But I'm also content.

The face says...

"Why are we so full of restraint? Why do we not give in all directions? Is it fear of losing ourselves? Until we do lose ourselves there is no hope of finding ourselves."
-Henry Miller


(It also whispers "longitude")

They keep falling.

Meant to be read while "Maps" by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs plays in the background.

It is raining in Oregon today.

I feel that the great American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow put it best when he said “The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain.”

This is true to life. Maybe he was talking about rain, maybe he was talking about something more.

However you read it, there's truth there.


I like the rain more than I used to.