Applies to everything, really. "Every writer faces rejection. There are two practical things to take from rejection. 1) the entity doing the rejecting is either stupid or didn’t need your thing. 2) you’re not good enough yet.
These are practical takeaways. Look at the thing you sent, a month after you sent it, and see how many flaws you can find in it. You can do better. I can do better. You might not be ready yet. Also, maybe you sent it to the wrong place. Perhaps it didn’t fit their editorial tone. Perhaps the humans there are just bloody idiots. That’s fine. At no point are you being officially declared Someone Who Should Not Write. Even if, as happened to me, an important editor does in fact tell you that you should consider another career. If this is what you want and you have something to say, keep going. Keep learning. Keep trying again.
There are undoubtedly still things in this life to submit to, but some random person telling you that you may not speak through art is definitely not one of them." - Warren Ellis via the Orbital Operations Mailing List
“They can do whatever the f*** they want”: Inside the FBI’s disturbing quest for domestic terrorists - Salon.com: "In 2007, then 26-year-old Eric McDavid was sentenced to over 19 years in prison on charges of conspiring to commit environmental terrorism. Nine years into his sentence, on Jan. 8, 2015, he walked free, it having emerged that federal authorities withheld information pertinent to his case. Just as improbable-seeming as McDavid’s release, 10 years ahead of schedule, are the circumstances that he and his lawyers say led to his conviction in the first place: His romantic feelings for a pink-haired, 18-year-old activist, “Anna,” who spent months encouraging him and two others to join her in committing acts of eco-terrorism — and who also happened to be a paid FBI informant...
According to the FBI, McDavid was the ringleader of an ELF plot to blow up California’s Nimbus Dam and other targets. According to McDavid, all the incriminating things he was caught saying on tape amounted to mere talk — and it was all instigated by Anna."
...it was she who gave the group a book of (fake) recipes for firebombs, also provided by the FBI. The group did experiment with building a bomb, but maintains that they never made solid plans to blow anything up. Each time they showed signs of balking, recordings played at the trial showed, it was Anna who urged them to keep going."
Generational generalities are goofy, but some of this resonates. Generation X’s journey from jaded to sated - Salon.com: "...when you’ve grown up knowing there’s a big red button that can be pushed to end the world (and all of your toys were choking hazards), you tend approach things with equal parts bitterness and ballsiness...
So. How did Gen X end up so Zen? Allow me to paint in broad strokes and offer up these [...] theories...
Gen X had witnessed what its parents had done in the name of Mercedes or making ends meet (depending on economic class), and we pledged to set our sights on careers that we weren’t beholden to. We wanted jobs that helped us to live but weren’t life itself. Today, in the same way the Boomers were driven by fortune, the Ys seem awfully enamored of fame. And who can blame them? They grew up with both the Oprah mantra of “finding your passion” and more child stars than you could shake a pageant baton at. For them, The Hills are very much alive, and if they can’t be famous, they’d at least like a dream job. We Gen X kids didn’t have this sort of temptation. We fantasized about becoming Flash Gordon or Pat Benatar, but adults told us, and rightfully so, that our fantasies were nothing more than pipe dreams. Thus, we never clamored for a spot on a Nickelodeon show; we just hung our posters of Bo Derek and Larry Bird and wished them well in their alternate realities. Then we put on our pirate hats, got in our Buick LeSabres, and headed to work at All-American Burger. So now, here we Gen Xers are, more or less in our 40s, with neither fame nor fortune, just the freedom that comes with what we do being quite different from who we are. “Hey, Joe. How’s work?” “Doesn’t suck.” “That’s great.”
We Can Warm a Bench
I never got a medal or a letter in sports. Why? I didn’t deserve one. If you go find the basketball and soccer benches from my youth, they are still as warm as toast and as worn as Colosseum marble from my expendable ass. I was always good enough to make the teams I tried out for, but only good enough to be put IN the game if someone got decapitated. I recall one fifth-grade basketball game where the clock stopped with three seconds remaining. I had yet to go in, but Coach saw his chance. “Martin!” he yelled, motioning to the court. I threw off my sweats, ran beneath the basket, listened to the buzzer blare before the opposing team could even complete a single pass, and voila: GAME OVER. I think I logged 14 seconds that season. Which is actually pretty good considering no one was beheaded. Back when I was young, an athletic season either ended abruptly, without fanfare, or the Phys Ed staff threw some crappy banquet with paper bowls and food service-chili where the superior athletes got a lousy plaque. We had one of these banquets once for my seventh grade soccer team. I think it was the first time all season the parents actually showed up. I recall hearing a bunch of dads snort: “My kid played soccer?” And then they all laughed and stayed inside to smoke. If you tell this story to a Millennial, they think it’s sad. “But my dad came to EVERY game,” they gasp. “AND every practice. AND he brought his zoom lens.” If you tell this to a Generation Xer, they stare and say: “You had a dad?” (I don’t know what happens if you tell this to a Boomer. Probably: “Ahh, yes. Smoking.”)
My son currently has a Nintendo 3DS. This little machine spews out more verbal encouragement and gold redemption coins and psychological incentive in 30 minutes than my generation heard in 15 years. Sports of the 70s and early 80s were just like the arcade games of the same era. You got a couple of chances at an event that was unforgiving and hard to master. And if you lost, you lost. GAME OVER. Now move out of the way, there’s a pedophile with a roll of quarters who’s been waiting to play.
We Accept Impermanence
Is “hapathy” this a word? I don’t know. I just think the overarching theme for Gen Xers is one of happy apathy. The whole Buddhist approach to living teaches non-attachment, in that “attachment is the origin, the root of suffering; hence it is the cause of suffering.” Well, Generation X sure got its Zen on by watching marriages dissolve, the Berlin Wall fall, the stock market crash, a president get shot, the Space Shuttle explode, and Fonzie jump the shark. We grew up accepting that nothing was permanent—not the economy, not the Metric Conversion Act of 1975, not even the lead singer for Van Halen...
For a prototypical Gen-Xer midlife crisis started in High School and hasn't abated since."
Brutal. After Alzheimer's Diagnosis, 'The Stripping Away Of My Identity' : Shots - Health News : NPR: "Alzheimer's, he says, is like "a death in slow motion." "It's like a plug in a loose socket," he says. "Think of yourself, wherever you are in the country, and you're sitting down and you want to read a good book, and you're in a nice sofa chair next to a lamp at night. And the lamp starts to blink. "You push the plug in and it blinks again and you push the plug in. ... Well, pretty soon you can't put the plug back in again because it's so loose, it won't stay there. And the lights go out forever."
Sixty percent now of my short term memory can be gone in 30 seconds. More and more, I don't recognize people. And now people understand that and, God bless them, they come up and introduce themselves to me. These are people I've known since childhood. In addition to my short-term memory loss, there are times when I've hurled a phone across the room, a perfect strike to the sink, because in the moment I didn't know how to dial. I'll smash my lawnmower against an oak tree in the backyard in summertime because I don't remember how it works. I cry privately. It's an emotional thing, the tears of a little boy, because I fear I'm alone and the innings are starting to fade. "
I need your help: I like your writing and I... - Digital Baubles: "//I know using it for the title of your new work is supposed to be challenging and radical//
Whoa. Hang on! You don’t know that. You think that. Which is fine, but for the record, I’m neither being, nor trying to be challenging and/or radical in using that title. I chose it because I think it’s hilarious. I’m trying to be funny. …I’ll leave it to others to evaluate my success in that pursuit...
Look, here’s the thing: I don’t know how to make something not offend you. If it’s problematic for you, don’t read the book. We can still be friends. And honestly, if that word triggers you, then what you find on the pages therein is going to be lot more problematic than the cover. (And I appreciate your desire to support independent work, but PRETTY DEADLY ain’t gonna be your cuppa either. And that’s okay. Not all books are for everybody. No biggie. Doesn’t mean anything about either one of us.) My feeling on this sort of thing: words are powerful. Some words we ask children to abstain from because they can use them to hurt themselves or someone else."
Hedberg Wins.
MORNING, COMPUTER | Warren Ellis on Greenwich Mean Time: "Stephen King doesn’t write ideas down because he believes that if he doesn’t remember the idea later, then it wasn’t interesting enough to be in a book. You are not Stephen King. I, and other writers I know, fetishise notebooks because we work in them a lot and we eventually get picky about them and have disposable income for that sort of thing. We don’t get out much."
Fat Head » The Wisdom Of Crowds Is On Display At The Grocery Store: "A lot of us have very legitimate complaints about the food supply, with all its processed garbage and meats that come from grain-fed animals raised in what amount to meat factories. A question I’m asked now and then is How do we change this horrible system? We don’t have to change the system. All we have to do is buy foods that enhance health and help spread the word to the crowd. You can complain all you want about the evils of capitalism, but even the greediest capitalist can only sell you what you’re willing to buy — the exception being when government takes your money and does your buying for you. Remember when every damned thing on the grocery shelves was labeled low-fat or zero cholesterol? That was the market responding to consumer demand. Yes, the federal government helped create that demand with lousy dietary advice, but it was nonetheless consumer purchases driving what was produced. That’s still how it works. But now the Wisdom of Crowds effect is kicking in and changing what people demand. When food trucks are offering grass-fed burgers, it means somebody in management noticed a change in consumer preference. When restaurants add a new Gluten Free section to their menus, it means somebody in management noticed a change in consumer preference. As more and more people choose grass-fed meats and other healthier foods, that’s what the producers will produce."
How to reform (and how not to reform) laws governing police raids - The Washington Post: "Under the Castle Doctrine, suspects are presumed innocent until proven guilty. The Supreme Court began chipping away at that presumption in 1963 with Ker v. California. In that case, the majority allowed for a home entry without announcement if police encountered one or more exigent circumstances, specifically if the police believed that announcing themselves would give suspects the opportunity to destroy evidence or to arm themselves. As Justice William Brennan pointed out in his dissent, the majority opinion does “obvious violence to the presumption of innocence.” That is, it begins its evaluation of when police may enter a home without announcing by presuming that the suspects are guilty — not just of the crime of which they’re suspected, but that they’re also capable of committing the additional crimes of destroying evidence and/or assaulting or attempting to kill law enforcement officers...
If you’re asleep in a bedroom, there’s little difference in whether the police burst in without knocking; announce themselves as the door is coming down; or even knock, announce and wait a few seconds before applying the battering ram. The entire point of “dynamic entry” is to take the occupants of a building by surprise — to overwhelm them with force and violence before they have an opportunity to do much of anything, much less come and answer the door. Once you’ve decided to use dynamic entry tactics, you’ve already dispensed with the entire purpose of the knock-and-announce requirement. In fact, when the police do knock and announce, any resident who does manage to open the door before it is blown open is probably subjecting himself or herself to a lot more danger. "
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