I was invited to go to a comedy club, Open mic night, in Dallas to see one of my friends perform. It was to be his first night. He was attempting something that many people dream about, but never actually do... and as witnessed by the few that DO attempt, only a handful actually get.
The actual club was nothing to write home about, but I think the small structure of it allowed for a more intimate performance from each comic that we saw. You got to see every sign of nervousness multiplied by the closeness and intensity of the lights. The struggle to find the next word, line, punchline of each and every joke they told. The strain to keep it together, remembering not to put their hands in their pockets or nervously playing the banjo and not actually telling a single joke but using his time up nonetheless.
There were other comedians with "schtick" like the one legged guy who came up with the brilliant "You might be a paraplegic if..." one liners that EVERYONE loves and enjoys to hear. Thank you Jeff Foxworthy. Then there were the obvous drunks who tried to make excuses for their drunkenness by attempting to turn 2 DWI into comedic gold. Next time run it by the judge and see how he/she feels about your act. Maybe he'll be lenient and ask that you choke yourslef as putting you to sleep would be a waste of taxpayers money.
There were a bunch of shitball comedians, who got up and spoke up about common topics that shitball comedians talk about" Weed, Alcohol, Divorce, and various redneck topics, which included one chick sharing with the audience that she once modeled Tractors. It was horrible. For my money, she should have modeled the inside of Ray Liotta's trunk from Good Fellas. That would have been hilarious!!!!
One guy was trying out new material. I get it.. it's open Mic night, if you're a regualr, then why not come on down to Open Mic Night and get all the crap out of your system before you acidentally commit career suicide by attempting that on a real comedy night?!? Good for you. Too bad his jokes were as useless as he is. His material was rough and he needed to change things up very fast. Too bad he didn't have the time necessary to douse himself in gasoline and light himself on fire right there.
I estimated that there were about 15-20 comedians there last night and out of all of them, 4 were good and decent, with enough competence to acvtually make a go of this wild ride called comedy, and of the 4 I witnessed only 1 who seemed to grab comedy by the throat, throw it to the floor and make it swallow the various pills of ecstacy that he himself had brought to the show.
His name is Nick Puentes. And he killed. He fucking murdered his first time up. He hit his marks, knew his setups and ran through his jokes as if you and I were sitting in a booth relating stories to one another. He was smooth and calm was in the moment. Every time he emphasized a punchline or threw out a setup, he was calm and acting like he was just talking to you. there was no nervousness, or shaking or uncertaintity like "Hey, I don't know if this joke is going to go over so well, but here goes!" look of terror on his face. He just went for it and he slaughtered the house.
After the show, we hung out for a while and he said something that I had been holding in the back of my head... that this was all therapeutic for him, and for the most part it was. I had seen a few weeks before and while he was normal, he did have some things bothering him, and after last night, I could tell from his demeanor that this was huge step towards excorcising a lot of demons.
I'm proud of him. He was fantastic. He got hired on to come back next week, and if all goes well, then he could become part of the rotating cast of comedians there, and then that's where all the big bucks come in. He'll start to make $20 a week!!! Watch out, cuase that vintage Van Halen t-shirt with all the sweat stains has just been put on hold!!!!
Great job Nick. You owned the moment and I hope you continue to do so.
Friday, August 01, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
The Dark Knight
Movie of the Year.
I fell in love with Batman when they would show the Batman cartoons in syndication, and then grew even more infatuated with the Character when the Campy TV show of the 60’s hit syndication. Soon after, I started to read some of the adventures of Batman through comic form and watched again as he and the rest of the Justice League took center stage in the many incarnations of the Super Friends, really not knowing who or what the Justice League was at the time, just knowing that the Super Friends rocked harder and harder with each interpretation.
I was 8. What did I know? As I grew older, I waned from Batman and all the campy-ness it wrought, never wanting to be seen as a kid who was uncool, because I had enough of that going since I read comics. It was my secret shame. So I switched to Marvels of the comic world, like the X-Men, the Avengers, Spider-Man. Comics for all intents and purposes were considered cool. I never lost my love for Batman, just never felt that the love was reciprocated.
Summer of 1989 came and I was 14, I remember my mom taking me to see the Batman movie that came out that year and it was both life affirming and life changing. At the time, it was a dark and sinister tale of a man out to protect his city, over a fantastic backdrop of sprawling architecture dedicated to both the gothic imagery in the mind of Tim Burton and the menacing imagery put forth by Batman himself. The city echoed his image and he responded in kind.
At the time, Jack Nicholson was the definitive Joker, with his maniacal, ever-to-giddy rendition of a man killing for the joke of it all. Trumped was Cesar Romero’s portrayal with the overly complex plan to thwart Batman, but yet easily disposed. No Nicholson’s Joker eschewed the Dark Underbelly of whimsy and imagination from Burton.
I wanted to say this because in effect, The Dark Knight has essentially taken everything that came before and not paid homage to, but spat in the face, poured kerosene, tossed match after glorious glowing match on it and dance around the bonfire in a lustful and engrossing tour de force.
This is the movie I wanted to see when I was 7, but didn’t know it. This is movie I thought I saw when I 14, but was completely and utterly clueless to. This is the movie that will lead to the undoing of all other “Superhero” movies to come. Nothing will be this sprawling Epic of Order and Chaos, of Law and Anarchy, of two forces that have to deal with each other. In essence, they NEED each other. In order to survive, they are required to constantly encircle each other, caught in each other’s gravitational pull, yet repelled like magnets by the others core nature.
And that’s only a minor part of the story. The movie fleshes out many more characters than ANY of the trailers would have you believe. You get to see what happens when good men are corrupted, you witness the depths that people will go through to hold onto what they perceive as important. You yourself will even be tested at one time or another throughout the film into thinking “Well, Obviously this happens!” and then BAM! The movie shifts positions, making you feel guilty for having had those thoughts to begin with.
The movie hits every mark with tension and drama and the story never leaves you wondering what just happened. When you see something happen you are engorged by the sheer will of the actors in it. Everything in this movie is damaged and that makes it perfect for a real life tale of grit and grime in a city that was once good, but has slowly been cored out by the Devil himself and is now just a festering cess-pool of crime composed of one immoral soul after the next, with the level of evil finally culminating in the Joker.
I won’t say that he will win the Academy for Performances, because on the surface many will llook and say that this is a “SuperHero” movie and we just don’t giv awards to those guys. But it’s not a Super Hero movie in the classic sense, this is an entirely new genre and it has been mixed with the great Greek Tragedies as well as Literary Drama. This is a story about people and it just happens to have a guy wearing a batsuit in it running around in it.
In short, this isn’t the movie we deserve because it looks good, this is the movie we need because it does what must be done.
I fell in love with Batman when they would show the Batman cartoons in syndication, and then grew even more infatuated with the Character when the Campy TV show of the 60’s hit syndication. Soon after, I started to read some of the adventures of Batman through comic form and watched again as he and the rest of the Justice League took center stage in the many incarnations of the Super Friends, really not knowing who or what the Justice League was at the time, just knowing that the Super Friends rocked harder and harder with each interpretation.
I was 8. What did I know? As I grew older, I waned from Batman and all the campy-ness it wrought, never wanting to be seen as a kid who was uncool, because I had enough of that going since I read comics. It was my secret shame. So I switched to Marvels of the comic world, like the X-Men, the Avengers, Spider-Man. Comics for all intents and purposes were considered cool. I never lost my love for Batman, just never felt that the love was reciprocated.
Summer of 1989 came and I was 14, I remember my mom taking me to see the Batman movie that came out that year and it was both life affirming and life changing. At the time, it was a dark and sinister tale of a man out to protect his city, over a fantastic backdrop of sprawling architecture dedicated to both the gothic imagery in the mind of Tim Burton and the menacing imagery put forth by Batman himself. The city echoed his image and he responded in kind.
At the time, Jack Nicholson was the definitive Joker, with his maniacal, ever-to-giddy rendition of a man killing for the joke of it all. Trumped was Cesar Romero’s portrayal with the overly complex plan to thwart Batman, but yet easily disposed. No Nicholson’s Joker eschewed the Dark Underbelly of whimsy and imagination from Burton.
I wanted to say this because in effect, The Dark Knight has essentially taken everything that came before and not paid homage to, but spat in the face, poured kerosene, tossed match after glorious glowing match on it and dance around the bonfire in a lustful and engrossing tour de force.
This is the movie I wanted to see when I was 7, but didn’t know it. This is movie I thought I saw when I 14, but was completely and utterly clueless to. This is the movie that will lead to the undoing of all other “Superhero” movies to come. Nothing will be this sprawling Epic of Order and Chaos, of Law and Anarchy, of two forces that have to deal with each other. In essence, they NEED each other. In order to survive, they are required to constantly encircle each other, caught in each other’s gravitational pull, yet repelled like magnets by the others core nature.
And that’s only a minor part of the story. The movie fleshes out many more characters than ANY of the trailers would have you believe. You get to see what happens when good men are corrupted, you witness the depths that people will go through to hold onto what they perceive as important. You yourself will even be tested at one time or another throughout the film into thinking “Well, Obviously this happens!” and then BAM! The movie shifts positions, making you feel guilty for having had those thoughts to begin with.
The movie hits every mark with tension and drama and the story never leaves you wondering what just happened. When you see something happen you are engorged by the sheer will of the actors in it. Everything in this movie is damaged and that makes it perfect for a real life tale of grit and grime in a city that was once good, but has slowly been cored out by the Devil himself and is now just a festering cess-pool of crime composed of one immoral soul after the next, with the level of evil finally culminating in the Joker.
I won’t say that he will win the Academy for Performances, because on the surface many will llook and say that this is a “SuperHero” movie and we just don’t giv awards to those guys. But it’s not a Super Hero movie in the classic sense, this is an entirely new genre and it has been mixed with the great Greek Tragedies as well as Literary Drama. This is a story about people and it just happens to have a guy wearing a batsuit in it running around in it.
In short, this isn’t the movie we deserve because it looks good, this is the movie we need because it does what must be done.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
I f&**ing HATE meandering busybodies with nothing to do!
Have you ever known that person who has absolutely nothig to do but is always there trying to make their job/life/complete and utter waste of an existence 'seem' imprtant?!? I have. I do. I am witness to it almost everyday now.
This person is so irritating that I can't imagine what a sham of a childhood she must have had growing up! 2+2+7! Good job, now go sit somewhere else away from mommy while she tried to get you a new daddy for the night!!! Or maybe based on how retatrded she was growing up her father murdered her mother in an angry drunken, blood-driven, orgy-esque rage that had him seeing her vagina as the direct conduit from which Lucifer enters our realm and tantalizes all things human with the promise of candy, only to realize once said candy is in our mouths, we realize that it is in fact not candy, but some fire-emblazoned, horned and bloodied penis with the carcasses of dead babies still hanging from it.
Bet that got your attention huh?
Anyway, this woman likes to complain. And complain. AND FUCKING COMPLAIN! About nothing and everything. Today's complaint? That the fucking Pepsi she got for a dollar out of a machine that is filled by some sad high school reject, hoping to make it big and marry the snack machine king's daughter in hopes of gaining some of his fortune tasted like... gasp... CHERRY PEPSI!!!!!
Someone rin ghte alarms!!! The Seventh Seal of the Apocalypse has been torn asunder! As you lay there having your flesh forcibly removed with all the subtleness of a babyy with no coordination and lobster claws for hands, and the vile horseman of Death comes to lay waste upon you and yours, then finds you extremely attractive, no skin and all, and begins to thrust himself upon you turning his body into a thousand erect probes willing to find any open orifice, even willing to make a few new ones, remember that all of this could have been avoided if only the Pepsi didn't taste like Cherry Pepsi.
I have to admit, this problem actually started yesterday. I listened as she complained about the whole ordeal and fell victim to the fact that she had been bamboozled and hoodwinked by the snack vendors and by PepsiCo. itself.
I sat there vehemently intent on ignoring her as she complained to ANY person that would listen to harrowing tale of hwo she had been cheated by the Soda machine gods and that ultimately, vengeance would be hers.
Many listened to the tale with no recourse or offer of help to overthrow the vast corporation that was Pepsi, no this undertaking would be her burden to bear and ultimately her greatest victory... if not. for. the. sheer. ridiculousness. of it. all.
This woman places a call to the vendors who fill this machine and reports that they have a bad supply of Pepsi in there. That she has had 2 and BOTH tasted like Cherry Pepsi to her. They guy offered a replacement Pepsi as well as his apologies.She accepted and left it that. Or so I had thought.
As the day went on though, the free Pepsi was but a slap in the face to her. Trying to appease her with a simple soda when she already been wronged by a simple soda?!? No, she wanted blood. And fresh blood spilled by a soda... which incidentally, turns out to be a simple soda. Never mind the logic, she had a lust in her one good eye and in her barely beating heart that I'm sure at this point pumps a think liquid gooey mixture of dirt and blood. So thick that one may liken it to mud or engine sludge. But no, this was her life support fluid.
The day ended with her seeming defeat... until!!!
Today, at lunch time, I noticed she was back with her Pepsi. It had not been opened, and as she sat down to enjoy it's life essence, she was quickly taken aback by... that TASTE!!!! WHAT WAS THAT TASTE!!!! Surely she had tasted it before and had left with displeasure the first time it occurred! But when and where had that occurred?!? Oh yeah it was yesterday! Idiot.
Anyway, she calls again, this time to complain not only about the taste of the soda but also abou tthe fact that perhaps the vending machine guy did NOT exchange all the pepsi's out of the machine like originally thought. Maybe he was laughing at her from afar as if to say, "you stupid old complainer, why don't you go somewhere and complain!!! HAHA LOL LULZ!!!!111!!!"
She exclaimed her displeasure with the service, taking int account that of course she is the ONLY PERSON in the world wh odrinks Pepsi and is single handedly keeping PepsiCo. afloat with grandiose bragging of "Let me tell ya, I drink about 3 or 4 of thses suckers a day! A DAY SIR!!!!" to hammer home her point that she indeed does keep PepsiCo. afloat all by her lonesome.
This is where the story turns!!! I, of course intrigued at this point scrounge up a dollar to go and see what the problem seems to be. I grab a Pepsi, immediately shove a huge swig of it's contents into my mouth and swish for a second.
Nothing.
I return to my desk and as she sees what I have purchased she IMMEDIATELY asks "what did you buy?"
I answer, "Pepsi." with a discerning look on my face.
She asks "is it CHERRY pepsi?" almost self grandizing and applauding herself on her efforts to fix the problem that on emore has fallen into her camp of "This shit tastes like Cherry Pepsi and NOT regular Pepsi!"
I say "no, it's regular pepsi!"
The she asks "what's the date?" as if to say that a different date would garner a different taste.
I tell her that the date on mine is "the same on hers."
She turns her head and nods in knowing sense that I too have been screwed over and proclaims an excited "Uh huh!!!" as if to say "I knew it!!!! Yours DOES taste like Cherry Pepsi!!!!"
I told her no. Mine tastes like a Pepsi.
What I didn't tell her though...
it tasted a little old.
Eh. She's still a fool.
This person is so irritating that I can't imagine what a sham of a childhood she must have had growing up! 2+2+7! Good job, now go sit somewhere else away from mommy while she tried to get you a new daddy for the night!!! Or maybe based on how retatrded she was growing up her father murdered her mother in an angry drunken, blood-driven, orgy-esque rage that had him seeing her vagina as the direct conduit from which Lucifer enters our realm and tantalizes all things human with the promise of candy, only to realize once said candy is in our mouths, we realize that it is in fact not candy, but some fire-emblazoned, horned and bloodied penis with the carcasses of dead babies still hanging from it.
Bet that got your attention huh?
Anyway, this woman likes to complain. And complain. AND FUCKING COMPLAIN! About nothing and everything. Today's complaint? That the fucking Pepsi she got for a dollar out of a machine that is filled by some sad high school reject, hoping to make it big and marry the snack machine king's daughter in hopes of gaining some of his fortune tasted like... gasp... CHERRY PEPSI!!!!!
Someone rin ghte alarms!!! The Seventh Seal of the Apocalypse has been torn asunder! As you lay there having your flesh forcibly removed with all the subtleness of a babyy with no coordination and lobster claws for hands, and the vile horseman of Death comes to lay waste upon you and yours, then finds you extremely attractive, no skin and all, and begins to thrust himself upon you turning his body into a thousand erect probes willing to find any open orifice, even willing to make a few new ones, remember that all of this could have been avoided if only the Pepsi didn't taste like Cherry Pepsi.
I have to admit, this problem actually started yesterday. I listened as she complained about the whole ordeal and fell victim to the fact that she had been bamboozled and hoodwinked by the snack vendors and by PepsiCo. itself.
I sat there vehemently intent on ignoring her as she complained to ANY person that would listen to harrowing tale of hwo she had been cheated by the Soda machine gods and that ultimately, vengeance would be hers.
Many listened to the tale with no recourse or offer of help to overthrow the vast corporation that was Pepsi, no this undertaking would be her burden to bear and ultimately her greatest victory... if not. for. the. sheer. ridiculousness. of it. all.
This woman places a call to the vendors who fill this machine and reports that they have a bad supply of Pepsi in there. That she has had 2 and BOTH tasted like Cherry Pepsi to her. They guy offered a replacement Pepsi as well as his apologies.She accepted and left it that. Or so I had thought.
As the day went on though, the free Pepsi was but a slap in the face to her. Trying to appease her with a simple soda when she already been wronged by a simple soda?!? No, she wanted blood. And fresh blood spilled by a soda... which incidentally, turns out to be a simple soda. Never mind the logic, she had a lust in her one good eye and in her barely beating heart that I'm sure at this point pumps a think liquid gooey mixture of dirt and blood. So thick that one may liken it to mud or engine sludge. But no, this was her life support fluid.
The day ended with her seeming defeat... until!!!
Today, at lunch time, I noticed she was back with her Pepsi. It had not been opened, and as she sat down to enjoy it's life essence, she was quickly taken aback by... that TASTE!!!! WHAT WAS THAT TASTE!!!! Surely she had tasted it before and had left with displeasure the first time it occurred! But when and where had that occurred?!? Oh yeah it was yesterday! Idiot.
Anyway, she calls again, this time to complain not only about the taste of the soda but also abou tthe fact that perhaps the vending machine guy did NOT exchange all the pepsi's out of the machine like originally thought. Maybe he was laughing at her from afar as if to say, "you stupid old complainer, why don't you go somewhere and complain!!! HAHA LOL LULZ!!!!111!!!"
She exclaimed her displeasure with the service, taking int account that of course she is the ONLY PERSON in the world wh odrinks Pepsi and is single handedly keeping PepsiCo. afloat with grandiose bragging of "Let me tell ya, I drink about 3 or 4 of thses suckers a day! A DAY SIR!!!!" to hammer home her point that she indeed does keep PepsiCo. afloat all by her lonesome.
This is where the story turns!!! I, of course intrigued at this point scrounge up a dollar to go and see what the problem seems to be. I grab a Pepsi, immediately shove a huge swig of it's contents into my mouth and swish for a second.
Nothing.
I return to my desk and as she sees what I have purchased she IMMEDIATELY asks "what did you buy?"
I answer, "Pepsi." with a discerning look on my face.
She asks "is it CHERRY pepsi?" almost self grandizing and applauding herself on her efforts to fix the problem that on emore has fallen into her camp of "This shit tastes like Cherry Pepsi and NOT regular Pepsi!"
I say "no, it's regular pepsi!"
The she asks "what's the date?" as if to say that a different date would garner a different taste.
I tell her that the date on mine is "the same on hers."
She turns her head and nods in knowing sense that I too have been screwed over and proclaims an excited "Uh huh!!!" as if to say "I knew it!!!! Yours DOES taste like Cherry Pepsi!!!!"
I told her no. Mine tastes like a Pepsi.
What I didn't tell her though...
it tasted a little old.
Eh. She's still a fool.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Hmmm, I thought he was supposed to be the Heir Apparent?!?
So I've been told by a few of my friends that Kobe Bryant is the Heir Apparent, or if you want to use the pun, "Air" Apparent to Michael Jordan, who for all intents and purposes is/was the greatest basketball player. EVER.
I've heard argument ranging from "look at his scoring titles, look at his leadrership, look how he carried his team to the playoffs/second round/Western Conference Finals/NBA Finals!"
Horseshit. Complete and utter horseshit. I have always argued that Kobe Bryant wants to BE like Mike, but that will never happen because he's too selfish, he's immature and WAY too cocky. This is not to say he isn't a good player. He's a great player, just not the greaterst. Sure he has the stats to prove his worth, but he doesn't like to work with teammates. WIth him it's always me, me, me!
If you watched the Finals, then you saw that last night was probably the point at which the Kobe/Jordan comparison's get put to bed. FOREVER!
Last night was a complete and utter failure for Kobe. He allowed the greatest comeback in Celtics history to allow on his home floor! On his watch! You're up 24 points and you let the Celtics come back and win the game?!? That never would have happened with any of Jordan's teams. Ever. He just wouldn't allow it.
Kobe failed on the greatest stage of Basketball. His legacy is forever damaged by the performance last night. Jordan would have possibly had the same fiurst half, but then damn it all, he would have found a way to carry his team with his scoring in the second half, or he he would have continued on his charitable ways of helping teammates get open shots. What I'm saying is Jordan would have found a way to win. Something Kobe will never understand because he's too self-centered and never wants to be laible for his teammates short comings.
It's sad that he is so good and yet for all selfish reasons, he continually makes himself the bad guy.
Fail.
Friday, December 28, 2007
A Place the Devil would call home... if not for all the pieces of shit already there!
I have worked in some shit holes in my life, from fast food to construction to menial warehouse jobs that only required you to have a strong back and weak mind. Never once did I complain really, because honestly, I wasn't as skilled to work in any other part of the co. (complete horseshit, I was more skilled than half of the office staff to begin with, it was just I was a male and young and eager, so they tested me to see how eager).
Enough about that though. I didn't write this to tell about all of those places... no, no, no, I wanted to focus on ONE place in particular.
The place where all hell can and probably will break loose. The place where there is no control over anything, however if you speak out against someone, get your things packed, because more than likely, you WILL be let go. Their nice way of saying FIRED. The place where kissing ass gets you promoted over the uber-qualified person in the office. The place where you think everything is fine, but a closer inspection shows the REAL hidden truths, that nothing is in fact fine and that the inmates are indeed running the asylum.
What wonderful place am I speaking of?!? Why it's the Wacko Tribal-Heroin of course. (name changed to protect the innocent)
Now I am going to be specific, because this may not affect or relate to you, but my story is for ANY person (read: artist/designer) that is considered a graphic designer in this company. Being a graphic Designer is, in fact, listen closely and read carefully at this point, A HUGE WASTE OF YOUR TIME!!! Not only is it a huge waste of your time, it will also no douibt be a giant waste of your life, talents, goals, aspirations, dreams, desires and relationships... I'm reaching on that last one...
What I am saying is don't get too comfy there. Always be refreshing in your work. But save all the good work for your portfolio, because at the Trab, you will never be anything more than a Lead Designer, and that is if you're lucky enough to have a certain Lead Designer who will remain nameless either get fired (which won't happen because I think she chomps on the vag of one or more of the managers up there.) or leaves for a better position elsewhere (again, which will never happen, because she is a talentless husk of rotted flesh that has no clue of what it means to design)
This place and these people who are 'lifers' are cutthroat son of a bitches. They're not leaving, and they're going to try to make it so you never leave either, by telling you shit like 'you have a bright future here!' or 'You're gonna go places in the company!' All rhetorical bullshit. They don't care what you do, so long as you do it their way. ie., dance for the man, shuck and jive, soft shoe and smile!!!!
I used to work there... I know how it is... the decent pay, the semi good hours, the insurance, the 401k (those last two were the ONLY benefits I got out of that place, btw). But no one who works there ever, EVER looks beyond. Seriously, do you WANT to be there like some of them for the next 20-35 years and looking like you're dying from some form of AIDS mixed with Colon cancer and herpes?!? Take a good look around you and tell me that's not what some of those people look like up there.
It's an illness. You get too comfy, you buy into what they're selling and the next thing you know... you are drinking their brand of Kool-Aid, complete with death of life and career. You will work on items that will lead nowhere. Gain nothing for much of the hard work you put in save for a pat on the back and an atta boy while the sales reps and managers gain all the bonuses and praise from higher ups. You sit there and watch.
And don't ever assume that anyone there is ever, EVER on your side. The only person who is really on your side, is the one that stares you back in the mirror. Those people, again, are cutthroat, ruthless sons of bitches and will do whatever it takes to make sure their job is protected. I know. I went through it. My manager LIED right to me in saying one thing for a director there immediately after he was supporting me to my face. That knife in the back hurt.
I had given this manager almost 6 GREAT years of my abilities and in the end I was no more than an insubordinate, trouble-making racist... which is funny, because I was fighting against a good old boy system in this place, yet I was the racist... go figure.
Look, the bottom line is this, you want to work there forever, go right ahead, no one is stopping you, just be prepared for ALL the bullshit when it comes. Make no excuses for staying there when it looks like the deck stacked against, because they probably are. Hold on for a sad ride because it will only end in misery.
If, however, you were to want to move on, I'm sure that you could, granted you were able to produce high calibre work and maintain the integrity of the piece and insert it into your protfolio IMMEDIATELY vefore it was change to have some ridiculously lame 'SAVE BIG SUNDAY' or 'DEALS, DEALS, DEALS" type of shit gracing the work that you put love into.
Good luck to any and all who read this... except for you. You know EXACTLY who you are.
Enough about that though. I didn't write this to tell about all of those places... no, no, no, I wanted to focus on ONE place in particular.
The place where all hell can and probably will break loose. The place where there is no control over anything, however if you speak out against someone, get your things packed, because more than likely, you WILL be let go. Their nice way of saying FIRED. The place where kissing ass gets you promoted over the uber-qualified person in the office. The place where you think everything is fine, but a closer inspection shows the REAL hidden truths, that nothing is in fact fine and that the inmates are indeed running the asylum.
What wonderful place am I speaking of?!? Why it's the Wacko Tribal-Heroin of course. (name changed to protect the innocent)
Now I am going to be specific, because this may not affect or relate to you, but my story is for ANY person (read: artist/designer) that is considered a graphic designer in this company. Being a graphic Designer is, in fact, listen closely and read carefully at this point, A HUGE WASTE OF YOUR TIME!!! Not only is it a huge waste of your time, it will also no douibt be a giant waste of your life, talents, goals, aspirations, dreams, desires and relationships... I'm reaching on that last one...
What I am saying is don't get too comfy there. Always be refreshing in your work. But save all the good work for your portfolio, because at the Trab, you will never be anything more than a Lead Designer, and that is if you're lucky enough to have a certain Lead Designer who will remain nameless either get fired (which won't happen because I think she chomps on the vag of one or more of the managers up there.) or leaves for a better position elsewhere (again, which will never happen, because she is a talentless husk of rotted flesh that has no clue of what it means to design)
This place and these people who are 'lifers' are cutthroat son of a bitches. They're not leaving, and they're going to try to make it so you never leave either, by telling you shit like 'you have a bright future here!' or 'You're gonna go places in the company!' All rhetorical bullshit. They don't care what you do, so long as you do it their way. ie., dance for the man, shuck and jive, soft shoe and smile!!!!
I used to work there... I know how it is... the decent pay, the semi good hours, the insurance, the 401k (those last two were the ONLY benefits I got out of that place, btw). But no one who works there ever, EVER looks beyond. Seriously, do you WANT to be there like some of them for the next 20-35 years and looking like you're dying from some form of AIDS mixed with Colon cancer and herpes?!? Take a good look around you and tell me that's not what some of those people look like up there.
It's an illness. You get too comfy, you buy into what they're selling and the next thing you know... you are drinking their brand of Kool-Aid, complete with death of life and career. You will work on items that will lead nowhere. Gain nothing for much of the hard work you put in save for a pat on the back and an atta boy while the sales reps and managers gain all the bonuses and praise from higher ups. You sit there and watch.
And don't ever assume that anyone there is ever, EVER on your side. The only person who is really on your side, is the one that stares you back in the mirror. Those people, again, are cutthroat, ruthless sons of bitches and will do whatever it takes to make sure their job is protected. I know. I went through it. My manager LIED right to me in saying one thing for a director there immediately after he was supporting me to my face. That knife in the back hurt.
I had given this manager almost 6 GREAT years of my abilities and in the end I was no more than an insubordinate, trouble-making racist... which is funny, because I was fighting against a good old boy system in this place, yet I was the racist... go figure.
Look, the bottom line is this, you want to work there forever, go right ahead, no one is stopping you, just be prepared for ALL the bullshit when it comes. Make no excuses for staying there when it looks like the deck stacked against, because they probably are. Hold on for a sad ride because it will only end in misery.
If, however, you were to want to move on, I'm sure that you could, granted you were able to produce high calibre work and maintain the integrity of the piece and insert it into your protfolio IMMEDIATELY vefore it was change to have some ridiculously lame 'SAVE BIG SUNDAY' or 'DEALS, DEALS, DEALS" type of shit gracing the work that you put love into.
Good luck to any and all who read this... except for you. You know EXACTLY who you are.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Merry Christmas everyone. I just wanted to take this time this year to do something that I have always talked about doing but have failed on so many attempts to do so... I wanted to make a christmas card.
I hope that you all enjoy my efforts and if not... too bad, I'm going to give it to you ANYWAY!!!!
I hope you and yours have a very merry christmas, happy chanukah, happy kwanzaa festival, feliz dia de los reyes and any other nationality/ethnic celebration I may have forgotten.
Good tidings to you and yours
D
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