Mira el joto

Just got back from pulling a double at Shane's today, and it was great to see Ethan (shoutout to that kid), who claims he's checking out the blog today. That's why Ethan's my boy, and also because he messed up his thumb beating the hell out of that one kid. Good thing he works at the deli, because that kid goes ham.

"'I am afraid,' replied Elinor, 'that the pleasantness of an employment does not always evince its propriety.'

'On the contrary, nothing can be a stronger proof of it, Elinor; for if there had been any real impropriety in what I did, i should have been sensible of it at the time, for we always know when we are acting wrong, and with such conviction I could have had no pleasure."

(Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility)

This quote stuck out to me today because I was thinking about how much I enjoy working at Shane's Deli. I concede that it is menial labor, but I enjoy making sandwiches, I have a reasonable boss, and I have a great time with my coworkers. And there is a certain satisfaction in providing people with a quality product that they immediately appreciate. More importantly though, I've found myself exposed to a group of people of whom I'd otherwise have limited interaction. 

Yeah, it's been nice to get to know some really great guys like Ethan, Joe, Mike, and Matt Drabik, Chin, Kaela, Shane, Fiske, Holly, and Betsy, but I feel like I've really gleaned some valuable life lessons from the amigos: Pancho, Esse, and Chavo. Even though I studied spanish for five years, the language barrier between us would've been too imposing for me to ever even start a conversation were it not for our forced proximity in the work place. But the amigos really helped me out, both with understanding the shockingly intricate nature of prepping, making, and wrapping sandwiches and as a remedial presence in my recollection of Spanish. 

This probably seems like a complete non sequitur, but I promise I will tie it in to the quote shortly. I can proudly say that I can effectively verbalize 90% of what I need to during my shifts, and I comprehend the majority of what is said to me; although, as most of it is sexual innuendo, I just nod my head and laugh. However, these three diligent and perseverant men have had a more profound impact on my life outside of my work, too. While Chavo and Esse have always been friendly to me outside of work (Esse even snuck me some free buffalo wings from Moldoun's one time), Pancho has gone well out of his way to be a true friend. 

The first instance of this was his invitation to his Monday night basketball games with his friends (which I soon came to realize were his brother, nephew, and other family), and I gladly took him up on his offer. I eagerly arrived at the courts off of Gunderson near his place, and waited for well over a half hour, but was not disappointed when Pancho's crew finally arrived. We played a rough, yet mostly friendly, game to 21. The cement court was cracked and in these spots rose up in tectonic upheveal. The rim was suffocated in rubber, and if not for the strange no-take-backs rule the game would've never ended, as every shot outside of a five foot radius careened harmlessly off the bulky, orange bastard of a hoop.

It was after this game that I truly appreciated what Pancho's invitation meant. The other basketball players did not seem to appreciate the presence of a white, yuppy stranger with an absolutely horrendous accent and Spanish comprehension, and I don't blame them. I'm also awful at basketball, so there was honestly no real reason for me to be there. But Pancho cooly shrugged of these superficial concerns and really made my day by inviting me to play. I'd like to think I repaid Pancho by helping his team win the prize-or more appropriately, avoiding paying the price of losing (i.e. paying for post-game beers)- but it definitely had more to do with him raining threes than my modest contribution of a couple tip ins. But anyway, his meaningful offer to play certainly initiated a friendship between us that I truly value.

Now that I've established the nature of my enjoyment of my job, I can connect it with the quote. I realize that in the passage, Elinor is not referring to a literal employment, but that just got the ball rolling in my head. The interesting question that I drew from the quote is how do society's expectations shape our own expectations? Elinor claims that even though Marianne feels no remorse for her actions, they are still inappropriate. Marianne opposes this claim, stating that we have in us instilled a moral code of right and wrong, and that if she felt nothing wrong, then, indeed, she had done nothing wrong. 

A very interesting debate to say the least, but I find myself concerned more with the inverse of this argument; meaning, can my moral compass be so swayed by external factors that I initially regret actions of which, when further pondering, I find myself in the right? The example here is my job at Shanes. I have clearly shown that I enjoy the job, and have found a certain fulfillment in the occupation and with my coworkers. Yet, I have to admit feeling ashamed when casual acquaintances come in while I'm working, and ask me why I'm not in school, or if I'm going to get a real job. 

This constant barrage of negativity has fostered in me a resentment of my job, and motivated my search for getting back in school. I'm not too naive to claim that I don't need to go back to school to accomplish my goals that I have for later in life, but it is startling to me to see such a mutinous shift in my thinking towards something I really enjoy. It is the same kind of idea of people denying favorite books or artist because they are viewed as something short of being cool or socially acceptable. It is interesting to sit back and try to picture what I would be doing if I was making a decision completely void of external interference. Some interference is healthy, as I have an infinitesimally limited exposure to the world, relative to the collective exposure of society. But is bigger always better, so to speak? I find it imperative that I keep tabs on how much my notions of things important to me are impacted my own empirical reason, and how much is due to that of suggestions by the community around me. 

The song i picked for today is from the immensely-talented Merril Garbus, a.k.a tUnE-yArDs. The mustachioed mujer's first single Bizness of w h o k i l l, out April 19th, is a hella-upbeat track that's just awesome. I definitely thought this was a dude on first listen, but nope, definitely a burly, Oakland-based woman that belts it out like it's her job. Which I guess it pretty much is. And she is damn good at it. 

tUnE-yArDs- Bizness

download here

This isn't a blog, this is a lymph node

"The novel is so formidable a mass, and it is so amorphous- no mountain in it to climb, no Parnassus or Helicon, not even a Pisgah. It is most distinctly one of the moister areas of literature- irrigated by a hundred rills and occasionally degenerating into a swamp. I do not wonder that the poets despise it, though they sometimes find themselves in it by accident. And I am not surprised at the annoyance of the historians when by accident it finds itself among them." E.M. Forster (from Aspects of the Novel)


When I first saw this quote, I didn't follow at all, mostly because it was missing the second half of the quote that clarifies how the hell the novel is a "moister area of literature". And also because the word "moist" always seems to me nauseatingly sensual, almost onomatopoeic- just saying it sounds like it requires an inordinate amount of saliva sloshing around one's mouth. A hundred rills of saliva, if you will. But E.M.'s always been my boy, so I'm willing to let this instance of lewd word choice slide.


I had to look up those three references in the first sentence; Parnassus and Pisgah are both mountains, and the Helicon is a river. Parnassus, pertaining to Greek mythology, was seen as the home of the Muses, and Pisgah is believed in the Hebrew tradition to be the mountain which Moses climbed to view the Promised Land for the first time. The Helicon, located in the Macedonian state Dion, is also a figure in Greek mythology, known most prominently for receding completely to prevent the woman who killed Orpheus from washing her hands of his blood in its pure waters.


With that in mind, I really enjoyed the idea of the novel being a pervasive figure whose impact transcends the intellectual audience. I am certainly eager to believe that, being an english literature major who worries not a little about the practical application of my studies. Forster, in my opinion, is portraying the novel as something not only substantial, but also as, at its core, natural- the novel recurring so prominently in nature that even "historians" are irked by it's intervention in their arena. This claim has obvious merit, as the three extremely historic locations mentioned in the first sentence all have literary significance dating way back. With this view, I find myself being able to take pride in the study of literature, and not trivialize it as a mere diversion from reality.


“The sensitive tale of a sensitive young WASP who’s just had this midlife crisis that’s moved him from coldly cerebral analytic math to a coldly cerebral take on fiction . . . which also shifted his existential dread from a fear that he was just a 98.6°F calculating machine to a fear that he was nothing but a linguistic construct.” David Foster Wallace describing The Broom of the System


I threw in a quote of Wallace describing his 1987 debut novel, The Broom of the System, which I just finished today. More extravaganza then novel, I thoroughly enjoyed it, and my enjoyment was amplified by listening to it on audiobook. If anyone has read the book, I'm sure you would agree with me when I say that the outlandish dialogue becomes even more ridiculous when being read outloud by the misfortunate narrator. Personal favorite of my being the narrator having to impersonate Judith Prieth's ventriloquial screeches at the expense of her morbidly obese cat. *sigh* Is it pathetic to be overcome with nostalgia for fictional characters? The question is a bit more appropriate in this context, as the book's premise hinges on the allegedly fragile membrane between fiction and reality, asking whether we are comprised of atoms and molecules, or whether we are simply "nothing but a linguistic construct".


My immediate impression on concluding the book, however, was not entirely favorable. The close of the novel is shockingly abrupt and left many tantalizing questions unanswered, its climax leading up to the peak of giant Parnassus (full circle, baby) and leaving us to stare down the unscalable side opposite. Yet upon backtracking and heeding Lenore's dimensional concerns, the non-resolutions make the novel an adroitly-constructed picture of reality. Having things go terribly awry, having expectations go horribly unfulfilled- is that not what life is all about? I say that in a bit of jest, but truly, what separates our day-to-day from the romanticized versions that we entertain ourselves with is fucked-up shit that stays fucked-up, protagonists that end up being unabashedly self-absorbed, and just the kind of general sense of something missing like cold, unfinished basements. God, that book was awesome.


Anyways, here's what I've been bumping lately. Been on a huge Das Racist kick. Even those these cats are such major goons, my love of their music should not in any way be confused as a guilty pleasure; these guys are creative, innovative, and sometimes even viably moral. In terms of being a joke,  "that's not how Das Racist roll: they kid because they are deeply and madly in love with hip-hop, and Sit Down, Man is an infinitely entertaining result of extreme reverence toward rap and irreverence toward everything else, themselves included" (Ian Cohen, Pitchfork Reviews).  They are just the kind of guys to not take themselves too seriously, which is very refreshing in the hip-hop game. Peep the vid below (if for nothing more than Kool A.D. posting stark naked and showing some mad pubeage) and check the download, if you are so inclined:

Das Racist- Rainbow in the Dark


cop that shit here



and get both of DR's mixtapes for free here