The Anatomy of Principles

Principles are tricky things. The entire basis of a principle blends unwavering resolve with fluid judgement of variables. Those that do it right, are never at an impasse; think of a strict principle that you believe you would always stand by.

"I would never buy an SUV."

You're stranded in a small village where the only two working vehicles are SUV's, that you cannot borrow, but must purchase for use. If you do not cross the desert by nightfall, a man will die.

Take the same statement, but apply it to your life as it lies at this very moment. More than likely, you're a young professional, with a perfectly running vehicle, in a city with public transportation, and mild climate. More than likely, yes, you would never, and have no reason to every purchase an SUV.

Variables. Situation. Adaptivity to the given circumstances. You cannot ever hold true to a principle absolutely, but you can hold true to your principles.

To be a person of faith, or a dear friend, or a leader, or a confidant, you must hold to your principles wholly, without lax or doubt. Your morale constitution must be stout, and courage despite doom or ill will, unquestionable. These are strict guidelines, but guidelines nonetheless. 

What allows for these excursions from your set principles then; to be truthful to your beliefs, yet allow for your beliefs to bend without breaking. 

Principles are not all equal.

"I don't eat non-organic foods."

"I do not kill babies."

Two, very, different levels of principles. Would you eat a farm-raised salmon to save an infant's life? Would you take a life to enjoy an organic meal? 

The greatest measurement of one's resolve is what principle sits atop all the others in their life. For some it's money. For others, love. Loyalty. Public regard. Survival. Happiness.

Principles may be the most important part of being an individual, but careful you don't choose them and make bars instead of paths.

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Horse Feathers - Mother's Sick

Ending Note: Draw up your own Principles Pyramid. You may just learn something about yourself.

My Day and My Circles

I've a backlog of things to post, pictures to upload, and even a video staring a forklift - how cool is that?! Playing catch-up, though, so all that wonderful media will have to wait.

A long overdue thanks to all my friends that made it out for my birthday nearly two weeks ago now. Red ambushed me with a surprise gathering of all my circles, which was quite odd and wonderful all at once.

Two of my traits that I hold to be very strong characteristics are my aversion to attention, and my favor towards one on one relationships. I've never thought either of these two to be good or bad, but simply a part of my makeup.

Birthdays just aren't my thing - never have been. Too many conversations about myself, too many eyes when a present comes out, too much attention for my comfort. Not to say I'm a convert, but the night was well enjoyed, and I'm thankful for all that made it out for a drink. Red especially.

When I say that I meet with friends, it usually means only one person, two at most. I don't exactly try to keep my Venn Diagrams from crossing over too much, but it's just what I'm comfortable with. I've always felt that I bring more to the table when it's me and another - one on one; less static, more sincerity. Seeing my friends mix it up, talking and interacting, was a bit surreal and dreamlike, as I always have them in separate sections of my brain. Was good though, to see them all laughing together and smiling at stories. Makes sense though. If they vibe with me, why not with one another?

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2Pac - Can't C Me

Ending Note: Venn Diagram simile provided by Logan Lo

Roots and Webs

The person above is a filmmaker. I've known her for a number of years now, and at times, we understand each other clearer than we do our own selves. Of this project, and her passion for film, there is no understating her love for what she does.

Believe that when you watch the video, you're taking part in something greater than yourself, because she has the capability to take this project and run further than you probably ever will with anything in you entire life.

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Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros - Mondo Bongo
Ending Note: The Kickstarter program is a wonderful thing.

Finding Home: Part II

Hell with it, tomorrow's Friday, I can go without some sleep. I gots words to share, so listen up.

Back in high school, I was a good kid; grades weren't half bad, didn't drink, no drugs - just kept pretty quiet. Had a best friend, didn't run in any circles, cool or nerdy, was on the swim team a couple years, was the A&E editor of the paper, got invited into the running for homecoming king by a technicality - for the most part I was an unknown, a shadow at best. 

One night I received the end result of a stupid mistake with another guy's girl. This spiraled into three days of one entire class against another, property damage in the night, a couple near-brawls, and two kids getting expelled from a class. I was in the wrong, the entire time, I started all this, and by way of association, everyone near me bore the brunt.

In the middle of all these happenings, with various friends telling me to let it go, acquaintances ready to throw a punch on my behalf, teachers near tears in concern, and my folks, blindly reaching for their son, I found myself in the loneliest place I've ever been.

So many people were intertwined in the mess I had made, but I felt completely alone.

Sitting in my old '83 Nissan Stanza, a baseball bat in the passenger seat, I stared down a dark suburban street in Fremont. It was cold, but my windows were open - my body heat had started to fog the windows, and I didn't want the added attention. I was searching the darkness for someone that I'm thankful I never found. 

Through all the horrible strain of those three days, I was watched by the entire school, and for the first time I felt connected. I learned what your relationships mean, no matter how small or big. I found out I "fit" into that world, and how everyone else belonged, despite allegiance or right or wrong. Just as much as summers running through the sprinklers at home, or walking the dog down to the park with my girlfriend, the three days born from my wrongdoing made that place my hometown.

Home is found in the good and bad of hindsight.

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Jose Gonzalez - Teardrop

Ending Note: Thanks to forgiveness and friendship.

The Dryer Ate My Homework

I swear, I'll post something soon.

Right now though, I have to fend off these two looming piles of laundry. So clean and fresh, yet so daunting.

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Damien Rice - Eskimo

Ending Note: Friday Night Light, the series, is pretty damn good.

The Sum of Our Parts

Birthday post to follow. For now, some news...

There's dangerous stuff happening in London. These idiots thought they were in a movie or something. And these two have betrayed so much by their actions.

Criminality comes in many forms, with differing degrees, that can only be even remotely decided by a justice system that is never perfect. Individuals make up the criminals - individuals make up the society that has been injured by these acts. It boils down to one person, making a decision that impacts us all.

As a people, we've lost sight of the value and importance of honor. It's a largely antiquated idea that smells of hokey sentiment, but is the simplest aid in these criminal times. 

To be held responsible to yourself. Holding weight in principle above an end result. Searching for the right answer even when there appears to be none. Making choices that transcend their impact to you alone. Doing good.

There's a rule I follow when dating women:

"Leave 'em better than when you found 'em."

I think this can be taken out of the bubble of dating, and given room to apply to people in general. If this one little rule was followed even 1% of the time, the impact on our societies would be monumental.

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Daughter - Your Kisses

Ending Note: Being good is hard, but try.

Finding Home: Part I

Spent this morning back in SF, taking a tour of a couple studios for rent. I wasn't expecting to find a place of interest, and that's exactly what I accomplished. Despite this fact, I still felt a bit deflated and disheartened at the start of my lackluster search for a new place of residence; so, I went to my cafe to find some solace.

You seen Garden State? There's a line that goes:

"Maybe it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't ever have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I don't know, but I miss the idea of it, you know. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people that miss the same imaginary place."

So what does living on your own mean? If you've not anyone to share the imaginary place, then do you have family? This brings us to another point from Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events:

"And remember one thing, my darlings, and never forget it: that no matter where we are, know that as long as you have each other, you have your family. And you are home."

This quote actually speaks to me a greater deal; it removes the requirement that a consensus be reached between a group about the same idea. Instead, all you need are your loved ones, and you have a home - geography, physical confines, mutual agreement, they're not needed as long as you share care and fondness with others.

Working backwards, went to brunch with Red yesterday at The Hobnob, where they tried to convince me that this is french toast:

Me: "That's not french toast."

Red: "That's french loaf."

It looks like three fillets of trout, I know, but they assured me that this was a plate of french toast. If you ever happen by the place, I suggest you try their Three Cheese Baked Mac 'n Cheese.

Lastly, during the trailers before watching The Trip, we caught one for a film was saw in Sundance. It's dark, powerful, and epic. Keep an eye out.

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Blind Pilot - Two Towns From Me
Ending Note: Trout is a funny word.

Old and New, Here and Gone

Why hello there.

I think I'll call you Mandy. You're pretty.

In more somber news, there's been the growing smell of decay coming from the other end of the warehouse. The Boss went  to investigate and found Clyde's mother behind a pile of wood; we speculated that she had gotten hit by a car, came back to the shop, and hid to recuperate. The wounds were too sever it seems.

The Boss usually comes up with some nifty names for the fluffies, but he could never figure out one that really applied to this one. She was small, with greenish eyes and a grey coat matted with browns and blacks. More skittish than any of the others, The Boss could only remember petting her once, and she could only be caught in a trap by using her kittens as bait. She had three litters of kittens in the shop during her time, so he defaulted at naming her, Mom.

The world's a rough place for feral cats.

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Daughter - Landfill

Ending Note: Here one day, gone the next. Do something special tomorrow.