Three Things Everyone Should Know About Comics and Politics

1) To know Glorious Godfrey is to understand the modern Republican Party.  Godfrey is a reverend of evil who preaches to his followers that belief in a Dark God justifies their ability to discriminate against, despoil, and kill all those who are different from them.

2) Likewise, the 2008 election of Barack Obama is the most Forever People moment in American political history.  The Forever People represent the eternal spirit of youth, that questions everything because they refuse to accept imperfection and compromise and believe that life can be a beautiful paradise.

Seriously, just look at this picture.  Don't you wish you read more comics?

3) Jack Kirby created both Godfrey and the Forever People in about three months of comics.  There's a reason Kirby was the King and why The Fourth World Saga elicits such glee.

BONUS THING: Now is a great time to start reading DC Comics again, because Iris West has adopted a new identity called Pandora and is going to ask the Justice League to help her stop her husband Wally, who has turned evil and is using the Speed Force to destroy the universe.  FLASH FACT

The Black Swan, Speed Racer, and Why Good is Overrated

Last night, I watched The Black Swan for the first time.

Dawg, HER ARMS TURNED TO WINGS.

It has come to my attention that some fools didn't like this movie.  Specifically, some fools be saying that this movie is melodramatic camp filled with ridiculous imagery.

Fools, STOP BEING FOOLS!!  Of COURSE it's melodramatic camp!  Some among you might recognize that there's nothing fundamentally wrong and a lot right with well-executed melodrama.  But I'd argue that The Black Swan is cool and amazing beyond any camp elements.  I love a well told, well executed plot as much as anyone, but to me, that's not what movies do best.  Movies have the ability to take advantage of image and movement.  Where a movie like Frost/Nixon, which I also love, uses plot as the device to engage the intelligent viewer, The Black Swan uses imagery, psychology, and melodrama.  The Black Swan people spend just as much time thinking about what Natalie Portman should look like as the best traditional playwrites thought about crafting a coherent plot.

Besides, in the postmodern world, do you really care about why a really cool image hits the screen?  Of course you don't.  You care whether the sheer specter of Cthulhu coming out of the water is the most terrifying, nightmarish image you can think of, precisely because it comes from a place that doesn't entirely make sense to you.  Does it hit you on a really primal, pre-rational level?  Does it get into your dreams at night?  Does it mess with your head, stick with you, blow open your mind to new possibilities about things that crawl around in muck hidden from everyday experience?  These are the questions that matter for the most meaningful art of our age.

That might seem to lead to down the road where I'm apologizing for the Michael Bays and James Camerons of the world, but nothing could be further from the truth.  Those lazy hacks are just playing to people's expectations and giving them comfort food.  In of themselves, special effects do not blow people's minds, because special effects have become the expectation for a certain type of film.  The people behind movies like The Black Swan, Speed Racer, and other such movies are working as hard as they can to expand our horizons.  In true postmodern/hip-hop style, The Black Swan blends genres to create the effect.  I can't imagine how the jerk marketing executives at Fox Searchlight felt when they started watching what they probably thought was going to be a beautiful little dance movie with Queen Amidala that they could sell to families at Christmas only to realize that it became a psychological piece about 30 minutes in and a complete psychedelic mindfck for the last half hour.

Look, man, I don't know how many ways to say it: the organizing principle of TWEDP is that human perception is limited, and that anything that gets us out of our rational mindset to consider what we have previously excluded is a great thing.  I could never, ever, ever have imagined that a movie like The Black Swan, or the images within it, could be imagined by people.  That makes it a win.

College: Is Rick Santorum Right?

Santorum called Obama a "snob" because he thinks everyone should go to college.  Yes, this is the same Rick Santorum who is running for the presidential nomination of the party that screams "class warfare" at the first hint of any government policy that helps the 99 percent.   This stump speech is rooted in basic resentment of fancy book learnin that attacks the supposed right to impose wrong beliefs about evolution and global warming on America's children.   If you choose to roll your eyes and move on with your day, I ain't mad at cha.

However, at the core of this particular bit of Santorum nonsense is a real debate that the United States should be having.  For my dissertation I interviewed a nationally known superintendent and scholar who lamented the same trend.  He served a rural school district that saw its mission not just to get students ready for college but also to make sure that students stayed healthy during high school and could get jobs after.  In other words, he recognized a real educational dilemma that Santorum's rhetoric only points to and exploits.

At most, only about 60 percent of kids finish college, and the numbers are well below 50 percent for black and Latino students.  We need to do better for these kids, and part of that effort should be increased opportunities to go to school and increased support for students for whom college may be more difficult than the average.  But especially with the price of college going up, I'm not sure that our society can afford to get everyone to college.  Even if we can, we need to ensure that those students who choose not to go to college have acceptable life opportunities.

My 600 Pound Life on TLC

I just discovered My 600 Pound Life on TLC.  If you haven't seen this particular show, you've seen one like it.     I guess The Biggest Loser qualifies, but I've never watched it.  The show portrays an incredibly obese person who is trying to lose massive amounts of weight.  Usually these shows end in some version of success, with the person losing a great deal of weight.

First, big ups to all the people portrayed on shows like these.  Whatever reason they end up on these shows, they're taking an incredibly difficult step to improve their lives, one that I am not sure whether I or many other people could take.  They know exactly how society sees them, and yet they still allow cameras in their life.  Even if the weight doesn't stay off forever or if they don't meet their goals, they're still doing the thing.

Why, then, do these shows leave me feeling uneasy?  I don't ask that question rhetorically.  Do these shows have a rubbernecking element to them?  As in, are we watching these shows because they show incredibly debased people in times of deep crisis?  Do these shows focus too much on the individual and not enough on the societal conditions that have led our entire nation to overweight?

You Only Get What You Give

Is yoga spiritual?  Sure.

So is running.

So is knitting.

So is accounting.

So is any activity, pastime, occupation, whatever.

Where "is" equals "can be."

Why are you doing it?  How are you doing it?  Are you doing it mindfully?  Does it help you engage in the most rigorous possible self-examination?  Does it make you question your every relationship with the world?  Finally, are you prepared to do it for a really, really long time, until such point where it provides the answers to everything, until it encompasses everything?

All of those questions are much more important than what the it is.  In my completely elementary view, those questions, or some more eloquent, comprehensive, and advanced statement of them, are the most important thing with which a person can concern themselves.

Those questions are everything.

So are kittens.

Something for the Ether

the only
sound you
make
never
gets the old world done.

hurry into still
prance in nothing but silence
regale at the noise others make on your way back up
jump
be

Perkasie, or the Yoga of Running

Perkasie Runner and I are usually on the same level, so it's not surprising he and I wanted to write about the same thing today.  That bastard got to it first, but that's not going to stop me from writing about a lot of the same stuff.

Hey, he uses it as his Twitter avatar.  This picture is fair game.

When I first started going to the Greatest Yoga Studio on the Planet, I was neurotic about how many times a week I should be practicing.  A few Google searches took me to Baron Baptiste's website, where I found out that for optimal results, I should practice 5-6 times per week.*

I called bullsh!t.

Perkasie Runner is a far superior athlete to me, but I know exactly what he's talking about when he says 100 percent maximum effort day after day is not a good idea, and I bet you do too.  Whether your physical activity is running, yoga, or something else, if you have a max-effort session one day, your body is going to be tapped out.  The classes at most US yoga studios are no joke.  If you come off the street not in your best shape and try to hit six classes a week, by the end of two weeks you'll be miserable, and you'll probably have torn, blown out, or broken something.  You need to give your body time to recover.

The standard yogic response to such claims is that yoga is about respecting your limits and that one of the great lessons yoga can teach you is that you are allowed to take child's pose and rest in the middle of a class.  I could not agree more.  Yoga has taught me how to go to my limits but to accept when I can go no further.  However, that's been one of the hardest lessons to learn.  We live in a culture that preaches that surrender is for the weak.  It's irresponsible and unrealistic to tell people to practice 5-6 times per week in a roomful of beautiful, fit people but to curl up in a little ball when it gets to be too much.  In most people's minds, you might as well ask them to wear a giant sign announcing they are a giant wimp.

The right amount of yoga, or running, or any aspirational activity you are just beginning is a little more than is comfortable.  You want to do enough so that you build strength and see improvement, but not so much that you can't enjoy the positive effects the activity should be having in your life.  I don't think anyone should do more than 3 power yoga courses a week when first starting out.

The postscript to this paean to responsible exercise is, like Perkasie Runner implies, you will eventually get to know your own body and understand what it needs.  I am up to the point now where I do yoga about 4-5 times a week, but I understand when to back off and try to make a pose look perfect and when to just say fck it and curl up in a little ball.  When I'm really on my game, I have days like today, where I was so stressed and fired up about a million different things before I got on my mat.  Once I started to concentrate on my breathing, everything slowed down a bit, and I understood what I needed to do to get right.  Even better, in losing myself in my breath, I lost the stress that I started the practice with.

Pretty cool stuff.  It's not something I could have done even a year ago, and it's a gift you get only when you've devoted yourself to something for a long time.

*To clarify, this information is taken directly from the Baptiste website.  I have no idea how much yoga Baron Baptiste or his staff recommend in individual conversations.  As for Franklin Street, you will not find more patient or realistic set of teachers than Lori Burgwyn, Mike Lyons, and the rest of the Get Fresh Crew at FSY.  All of my experiences there let me know that they will never push someone too far beyond their comfort level.

The Three Best White Breakup Songs

Yes, we are going to Jim Crow this category, for a couple reasons.  As we'll see, a song by a white artist inspired this list, so I'm in a white artist kinda mood.  Besides, picking the best breakup songs by black artists is exceptionally easy.  Marvin Gaye conveniently collected them all on one record.

These songs are ranked by my love for them, and the rankings conveniently dovetails with their place on the continuum of "how far along are you in the breakup?"  The further we go down the list, the further into despair we descend.

3. "Never Talking to You Again" Husker Du: It's gotta kill Bob Mould that the best Husker song was Grant Hart and an acoustic guitar, right?  Especially since this song might be about him?  This is the song you bump when you've tried everything to fix the relationship, but it only gets worse.  You're just too exhausted to try anything else, and you just want the other person to go away as quickly as possible, but "as quickly as possible" takes years too long.

2. "Serpents" Sharon Van Etten: Admittedly, I just found this song within the last two weeks.  It hasn't passed the test of the time like the other two, but I complete confidence it will, since, like, I haven't stopped listening to it for the last 72 hours.  This song is a brilliant, confused mess.  Van Etten is alternately magnanimous and furious but always bitter and resigned.  She's trying to convince the listener that she's done with this arsehole, but you both know she's lying.  She might want to be done, but not enough lamps have been smashed yet.  You're living this song when you're smack dab in the middle of the awful breakup.  You kind of suspect things have to end, but you can't do it yet, and you are a complete and utter emotional train wreck.  Believe it or not, Van Etten and her band (especially the drummer) pack all this confusion into three minutes of mid-tempo rock perfection.

1. "Rid of Me" PJ Harvey: Ultimately, though, Van Etten can't displace her heroine, at least not at the top of my list.  With this song, words utterly fail me.  I might as well try to describe enlightenment.  Imagine Surfer Rosa without a smidge of humor, channeled through Howlin Wolf and John Lee Hooker, and taken to a very, very dark place.  Then imagine a broken heart can transform quiet, unassuming Goth girl into a malevolent force of nature.  There's simply no way to stand against "Rid of Me."  If Polly Jean wants to destroy you, she will, and I can either pray for you or organize a wake for you.  Unlike the first two songs on this list, this song contains not an ounce of resignation.  This is the sound you make three days after she tells you and it finally sinks in, if you were capable of anger that could summon the gods.

Please note: I am only referring to the album version.  "4 Track Demos" sucks.

The One Path

So I've decided that Buddhism is not for me, at least for now.

I fully accept what I believe to be the Hindu notion that many ways exist to reach heaven, nirvana, the tenth level, Barbelith, whatever you want to call it.  Hermann Hesse said that people who reach such heights will often say things that seem to directly conflict with the teachings of other enlightened ones, but that's only because teachings are words are concepts that cannot possibly express the whole of Truth. It's all one thing.  I believe that with all my heart.

But while the Truth might be singular, I am a flawed finite vessel.  As I've read different versions of the One Truth, I've often found myself more and more confused.  Should I be going through my day with the intention to spread joy, equanimity, compassion, and kindness, or should I strive to be unattached?  What about when I meditate?  Even though that I'm sure an enlightened being knows beyond all doubt that there is no difference between the approaches, I do not.

I recently had a conversation about the necessity of giving one's self over to a teacher.  At the time, I thought we were talking about the need for discipline and the subsuming of one's ego, but now I'm pretty sure that limits are part of that equation.  If all paths lead to the top of the mountain, the only mistake one can make is trying to take multiple paths at once, because then you are always returning to the beginning of the journey.  I'm not claiming this approach is correct for anyone other than me, and I reserve the right to change my approach when the situation dictates.  The Buddha's definitely right that if you hold fast to a fixed doctrine, you will see it fail you eventually.

But for me, now, I need to take one path and look forward to the top of the mountain, where I'll meet people who say completely different things that all mean the same.

The Joys of Turntable

Homes, have you heard the Good News?  Old people can be cool again, all thanks to a little web site called Turntable.  

I know, I know.  Turntable is not exactly breaking news to a lot of you, and you've probably heard me sing its praises sometimes since I joined 7 months ago.  This message is not for you, however.

Old folks like myself tend to miss when new music technologies break.  I got in on Pandora about two years late (as Joni Klopp will be happy to remind you), and stuff like last.fm and Kaaza are still mysteries to me.  As a consequence, the new music I found was limited to whatever I could scrounge up from my friends' blogs and radio shows.  It is a very distressing part of getting older when you start to be not that good at the things that used to matter a lot.  There's only so many times a thirtysomething can talk about the new album by that band they loved in college before s/he feels lame.

But there is hope, and it's Turntable.  Turntable is nice in part because it's so approachable.  Instead of a soulless interface, you get cute little avatars like the ones pictured above.  When you DJ, if people like your song, they hit the "awesome" button, and you get a point.  As you get more points, you can get cooler avatars.  It's a brilliant idea, because it creates an incredibly positive atmosphere.  Everyone wants points, so everyone pretty much awesomes every song.  All that happens if someone doesn't like your songs is that they head over to another room with a different theme.  

So old heads, we can get on and play our My Bloody Valentines and our Gang Starrs, and we'll get head nods, and we'll feel good because we haven't lost it THAT much.  And because we're feeling good and listening to music theme that we like, we're hearing new stuff from the type of people who seek out and awesome MBV and the Foundation.  Combine that with Spotify or Google, and all of a sudden you're up on the new sh!t once again.  Once again, you will impress the cooler friends at your very adult cocktail parties.

Afterword: Right now I'm spinning hip hop in the Shaolin Temple, and the crew wants a shout out.  If y'all want to hear some real hip hop, come on in.  I'll awesome whatever you play.

Awareness

Just finished Buddhism: Plain and Simple.  Obviously, I'm a beginning scholar of Buddhism, and if you are as well, I highly recommend this book.

One the more interesting parts of the book is the importance of being in the moment.  To hear Steve Hagen tell it, that is the essence of Buddhism, and regardless of my feeling towards Buddhism, it's damn fine advice.

What I figured out today while wandering around the Houston Airport was that being aware of the moment meant that very moment.  I had been evaluating what I was doing once I found myself doing or thinking things that I didn't want.  But that's not it, at least to me, at least now.  The key is to be thinking about the moment and your intent while you go through the day.

Penn State, Anusara, and the Group Trap

There is nothing better than being part of a group.  We crave connection with other people as much as we crave air, water, and food.  When we're lucky enough to find a group that welcomes us and gives to us and helps us become better people, we're usually willing to recognize it as one of the rarest and most precious gifts.

And at the exact instant, we're vulnerable.

Over the past four months, I've watched as two groups for which I have great affection have imploded.  I'm a lifelong Penn State fan who still believes Joe Paterno was one of the best human beings to ever walk the earth, and I've attended and grown from classes with several Anusara yoga teachers.  The details of the Penn State tragedy are well know.  If you want some background on the awful situation facing Anusara and its practitioners, click here.

(Now seems like a good time to indicate that I am NOT equating anything that happened with Anusara with the evil the victims of Jerry Sandusky experienced.  I am not ruling it out, but even the most disturbing public rumors don't indicate that any of John Friend's alleged misdoings rival Sandusky's in scope or depth of depravity.)

Beyond my interest, a lot of things link Penn State and Anusara.  Both were run by charismatic, larger-than-life figures who preached that they, and their organizations, cared about more than the primary task usually associated with their job titles.  Both preached the virtues of living an ethical life in service to others.

And both Joe Paterno and John Friend were able to inspire others to greatness.  People looking for a way to live a better life were drawn to both of them, because both of them seemed like the real deal.  Both Paterno and Friend seemed to create a world that welcomed and celebrated those who wanted nothing more than to be the best, most ethical people they could be.

And a lot of people found good in themselves that they attribute to the experiences they had in the worlds that Joe Paterno and John Friend created.  A lot of people went on to do wonderful things that benefited the world and served the good in the name of both men.

A lot of people ask why no one at Penn State came forward earlier, just like a lot of people are asking why no one associated with Anusara came forward with information about Friend's alleged wrongdoings until now.  To me, people who ask those questions have never been part of a group that becomes central to one's identity.  To go against a group like that takes exceptional moral character, particularly if an individual believes the group now in the wrong had a formative positive impact on that very moral character.  To any person close to Penn State football, turning in Jerry Sandusky was the equivalent of turning in the oldest brother of a family that had provided nothing but exceptional moral guidance up until that point.  To a senior Anusara yoga teacher, telling the world about the real John Friend must have felt like calling the cops on your father.

Let me clear: I am not excusing Joe Paterno, John Friend, or anyone who knew about the wrongs committed at Penn State or within the Anusara kula.  If your older brother (allegedly) molests little boys, you call the police.  If you know your dad is (allegedly) harassing his students and forcing his subordinates to commit crimes in his name, you call the police.  This post is already getting long, so I'll save a full discussion of culpability for tomorrow.  For now, know that I strongly believe that everyone who knows of grievous harms bares full ethical responsibility to do whatever they reasonably can to stop it.

All I'm saying is, if your heart has room, spare a little compassion for both the Penn State and Anusara families, even if they did know and did nothing.  They were wrong, and we can and should hold them fully accountable for their wrong.  But every living thing deserves our compassion, and the Penn State and Anusara mistakes, while allowing truly awful things to happen, were all too human.

It is excruciating to confront your heroes, even if you know they're wrong.

Especially when you know they're wrong.

A Valentine for You

Having done a lot of gratitude posts lately, I was a little hesitant to go forward with the following concept for Valentine's Day.  I'm also conscious of not blowing up anyone's spot.  I guess it's ok to put people's names in these blog entries, but I do want to respect the privacy of everyone, especially the people for which I am most grateful.

But then I thought again.  The world needs nothing so much as it needs joy, equanimity, compassion, and kindness.  In that spirit, Happy Valentine's Day to everyone, but especially to the following people.  I'm keeping names out of it, but I'll be as specific as I can so you know when you're getting shouted out.

The Anthem.  Get Your Damn Hands Up

• To my family, for everything ever but especially for their support over the last year.
• To my professional colleagues who have stood by me through the last year.  I learned that the upper boundary of the best behavior from caring, dedicated professionals is much higher than I had thought.
• To my friends  who have been with me from the jump.  I could not have made it through without you.
• To my friends who I just connected with over the past year.  You've made life in North Carolina richer and more fun than I thought possible.
• To everyone who has contributed to my yoga practice ever.
• To all the students I have had the pleasure of teaching.
• To the airplanes and internet providers that keep me close with all of the above.
• To the sun, the moon, the sky, the earth, and the spirit.
• To Lindsey Andrews, whose former FB profile pick I've been looking for an excuse to steal for months.  Words to live by.

Block of Wood

I have severe writer's block, at least with TWEDP.  Part of it is everything else that is going on in my life, which includes writing for other outlets.  Part of it is a desire not to make this blog entirely about yoga and transcendental weirdness, because...well, I guess because I have knee-jerk reaction against allowing myself to be pigeon holed too easily.

I've also become convinced I need to stop with all the first-person pronouns.  There's no real reason to stop using I.  Bloggers before me fought and won that war.  However, the voices of Bob Hollenbach and Bruce Stoneback, aka the grammar police of Pennridge High School in the early 1990s, will not be stilled.

All of which to say is, I'm sorry I don't have anything more interesting to write to you today.  I waited all day for inspiration to strike.  The only idea I had the piqued my interest was a possible rambling essay on the difference between act and actor, which might be a way for us to learn how to discuss race again.  So, when some silly white boy says some fcked up sht, we can sit them down and say, "Tommy, you have an act/actor thing going on today.  I know you're not a racist, but that thing you just said was some racist bullsht."  That way, we could call out dumb stuff people say without them getting all self-righteous, because, remember, we're not allowed to call anyone a racist anymore.

But I didn't like that idea that much.

Hopefully I'll have a good idea tomorrow.  Now, to watch the Sixers hopefully not screw this up.

How to Publish

Many young scholars worry about how to get published.  I can't claim to be an expert on the topic, but I have had some success, and I think my advice could be helpful.  Any insight I have gained has been the process of long period of trial and error with far more failure than success.  If one person can see this post and avoid even one of my mistakes, I will count it as a win.

When you're getting ready to begin a project where the goal is to yield a publishable piece of writing in the social sciences, you should ask yourself four sets of questions.

1) How important is my central question?  To put it more precisely, do others recognize my question as important?  If not, how effective can I be in convincing them of its importance?

2) What is the quality of my data?  Do I have direct measures of the central concepts?

3) Am I able to execute the analysis and write up in the most professional possible manner?  Have I checked with peers and mentors that my methodology is the best possible way to address this topic?  Have I studied the format of articles in my target journal and replicated that format as closely as possible in my own write up?

4) How compelling are my results?  This point is related to point 1.  Will someone who reads my article think that its findings are important?

I am pretty sure that if you can nail all four of these points, the world is yours.

11 Things For Which I'm Grateful

1) The grammatical constructions "for which," "to which," and so on.  They make me feel smart.

2) Pitchers and catchers in eight days.

3) Lavoy Allen balling out.  If they really wanna do this thing, the Sixers need toughness and physical play.  Lavoy isn't enough, but he's been a pleasant surprise.  He battles his man on defense on every position, he rebounds, he hustles, and he makes open jumpers.

4) Recently, the Alliance for Student Activites, an organization dedicated to the promotion of the value of student activities for middle school and high school students, launched its "When X=Student Activities" campaign.  This presentation and its accompanying parts are a grassroots effort that will change the public education debate in this country, and I am proud to be a part of this effort.  Please click on the link above and "like" us.

5) The opportunity to work with Bob Tryanski on #4

6) "Postcards from Hell" by The Wood Brothers

7) The staff of the PASC Grove City Gold Workshop

8) David Uzumeri says that Frank Quitely is almost done with his issue of Grant Morrison's Multiversity, which may come out this summer.

9) A semester of leave, which allowed me to submit on Sunday the best article manuscript I have ever written and researched.

10) "This too shall pass, so raise your glass to change and chance.
And freedom is the only law.
Shall we dance?"

11) New opportunities

Where Eagles Dare

Did I title this post just to get Philly peeps and Danzig fans to click on the Facebook link?

Would I do something so underhanded just to drive blog traffic?

Click on the link for MORE PANDERING

But this post is not about the NFL franchise that is most painful to support.

Nor is it about 80s punk-metal goodness.

This post is about my new favorite yoga pose.

Because I've got a fairly high center of gravity and long, spindly legs, yoga poses where I balance on one leg are relatively challenging for me.  The challenge is double for eagle pose, which I fondly remember Rodney Yee once calling "wobbly."  

You don't have to have ever done yoga to appreciate how funky Eagle Pose is.  Just look at that picture.  Legs and arms wrapped around one another and jutting out at all angles, and one is supposed to stay upright on one leg?  One is supposed to hold that for 30 seconds?  Especially when yoga teachers love to save it for the last 20 minutes of class, when my poor, spindly legs are already dying?

What I remembered during today's practice at The World's Greatest Yoga Studio is that when I adopt the attitude I just described, my Eagle Pose is doomed before I move a single muscle.  

And that Eagle Pose is a metaphor for life.

Think about it.  What makes Eagle Pose, or any pose, difficult?  Gravity?  The ground?  Your mat?  Friend, those things are constant.  Rain or shine, good practice or bad, gravity will always pull down and your mat will always be the same color and texture.  Isn't that a little bit like the world?  When I go outside, the world will still be the same as it was yesterday and as it will be tomorrow.  Jerks will still be jerks.  Traffic will still be traffic.

The real difficulties in both Eagle Pose and life are mostly a function of things we do to ourselves.  In Eagle Pose, I always want to make sure that my arms and legs are as twisted as they can be, that I'm as low to the floor as possible, and that my back is straight as can be.  In short, I try to do too much.  And, inevitably, when I'm trying to be Super Yogi, Eagle Pose kicks my ass.

Life?  Dawg, I have a job and am going to have a job well into the future.  I've got money enough to pay the rent, eat, drink, and fly somewhere whenever I please.  So why am I so worried about job security?  Why do I get myself twisted in knots trying to make sure I'm doing everything perfectly?  Why do I have to find the exact right step for my future, and why do I have to find it now?

I don't.

I can relax into the pose and into life.  

When I am not trying to be Super Yogi, Eagle Pose is bliss.  When I relax, I'm not sure that there's a pose that feels better for my hips and my shoulders.  

In life, I will do the best I can do today and trust that all is coming.  That means I work hard each and every day to maximize my chances at the best possible future, but I recognize I can't wave a magic wand and make all of my problems disappear today.  I will do the best I can today, in this moment, and that is always enough.

And if you made it this far, you've earned your punk-metal awesomeness.

Three Songs Worth Your While

I've been wanting to write about music but can't settle on any one topic, so you get more bang for the buck.

1) "Hymn Eola (Southern Nights Remix)" TONSTARTSSBANDHT: I guess I am kind of surprised that I haven't heard more bands doing the Animal Collective thing since Animal Collective got so popular with the last album.  I'm not the hugest Animal Collective fan, but I'll support anyone that wants to go off the psychedelic deep end.  The title of this track is pretty evocative of its sound: pretty, distant, vocals and a relatively sparse background track that centers around a "bass line" that is actually just dudes singing through a very mild autotune effect.  I like to listen to this track and stare out the window thinking abut summer and puppy dogs.

2) "Marshmellow Yellow" Peaking Lights: Did someone say psychedelic?  Look, when you make a psychedelic dub record, I am all in.  Repetition, mood, and esoteric sounds are the name of the game here.  You're going on a weird little trip to a place where the bass line is just a little unsettled, where little snatches of Moogs and guitar peak in and out at unexpected places, and a guygirl croons one word for eight minutes. Don't be scared.  The whole effect is pretty trancelike and fantastic.

3) "Sweet Louise" The Belle Brigade: Something for those of you aren't as down with the far out sounds.  This is about as straight ahead folk rock as you can imagine.  It's also the song you want to fall in love with and to.  Impossibly pretty.

The patron saint of all music posts is Paul Westerberg.

All Tomorrow's Parties

Yesterday, I finished an article, did some job stuff, and worked on some student council stuff.

Tomorrow, I will start an article, do some job stuff, and work on some student council stuff.

Today, however, I will relax and try to listen.

Thanks to Jane and Lori for the image.

Attachment: Why I Didn't Write Every Day

I could point out that I wrote plenty yesterday, just not for this blog.

Shoot, I just did.  Is that defensive?  Must consult ancient texts and exalted masters.

But even after I got done my stuff yesterday, I fully intended to do a blog post, because I felt like I had to.  I didn't want to, but I felt an obligation to be persistent in my practice.  I felt good about not having missed a day, and I wanted that feeling to continue.

Is that an attachment?

See, we yogis are very big on letting go of our attachments.  We value the good things in our life, but we know that everything is temporary and almost nothing is essential except walking the mindful path.  One should never compromise or let go of the mindful path.  One should be prepared to let everything else go that is not central to that path, because everything that is not central will pass away and will become a distraction at some point anyway.

I don't buy that logic in its entirety.  Some things, I will hold onto until the bitter end, no matter how bad or distracting they become, because I know in my heart they are the good and right things with which to connect myself.  Maybe that means they're not attachments at all.  I don't know.

What I do know is, I am at a crossroads in my life.  I have to give up a major attachment.  It's an attachment that has helped shape and define who I am for a long time, and for the most part it has served me well and fairly.  It has helped me walk the mindful path, most of the time.  But it isn't any more, so it's going away, and I am scared of what that means.  Now I need to define who I am in the absence of the attachment.  I think I know that who I am does not change just because my situation does, but who I am is being put to the test.  In order for me to ace that test, I need to let go.  I need to move on.

Moving on--letting go of the past--can be very, very difficult for me.

All of this was running through my mind yesterday as I sat down to write a blog entry, which I really didn't want to do, and which was going to cause me a lot of stress.  What better time to practice letting go?  With my other actions this weekend, I served the goals I set for myself with TWEDP.  I have actually done a pretty fantastic job being mindful the last week or so.  And if I skip a day of blogging because it feels like the right thing to do, it certainly doesn't mean I won't get back on the horse today.

Maybe letting go is a practice too.  If I start with the small stuff, maybe I'll get better at the big stuff.

On that note, I think I'll go pack up some more books to take to the used bookstore.  If anyone wants an old but functional gas grill, holla.

Humility and Respect

I have resisted the urge to make any TWEDP entry a link dump, because I don't think such entries would be true to the spirit of the project.  Today, I am going to make an exception.  I can be prideful, so any act where I can be humble and acknowledge that the amazing efforts of someone else exceed what I could do serves life and praises God.

A particularly ugly yoga scandal came to a head yesterday.  The accusations are awful, and people are already picking sides.  I had planned to write my thoughts on it, but I am still not quite sure what to say and especially how to say what I know to be true.  Just now, I read a piece by Ben Ralston of the Prem Center that expresses everything I would want to express for myself better than I could have done.

It's also about far more than the latest boring yoga scandal.  It's something everyone should read, particularly those of us who are facing a period of transition.  If you were willing to read my long blog post, I hope you'll read his piece instead.

Namaste, Ben.  You nailed the situation and, in the process, wrote about something much more important.   I am going to spend the time I would have spent writing meditating on integrity and compromise.

Pho: The King of Soups

Been a lot of nonsense on the Internet this week.  Yoga scandals.  Lana Del Rey.  Hobos.

Yet nothing has been more nonsensical than Grantland's Souperbowl, which invalidated its existence the moment it chose French Onion Soup over Pho.

No.

No.

Fellow white people, I am ashamed of you.  We're not going to discuss this.  Pho is the King of Soups.  

In protest of this travesty, for lunch today I went to Lime and Basil, which does a damn fine job delivering Vietnam's finest output in the middle of Chapel Hill.  I ordered vegetarian Pho with chicken broth, which I'm pretty sure you Pho purists will say is a complete sellout because, dag, don't be vegetarian with something so awesome.  

Whatever.  It was bliss.  I nailed the chili sauce to broth ratio.  The tofu and noodles were perfect.  I woofed down every solid in that broth, then sat there drinking the broth even though my eyes were in tears from the heat.

Because that's how good Pho is.

The Watchmen Prequels

Y'all beat me to it.  When the news broke yesterday that DC was putting out prequels to Watchmen, I thought the Internet would melt.  I thought there'd be vigils at the stately English manor of Alan Moore, the author of the original.

But a funny thing happened on the way to the vigil.

Everyone on the Internet was reasonable.

Miracles never cease.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with more Watchmen.  I tend towards the view of Alan Moore's self-styled antagonist and fellow comics legend Grant Morrison, who sees culture in general and comics specifically as mythology that is the product of no one man.  In the case of Watchmen, this is certainly true, since Moore's inspiration for the story came from the characters of Charlton Comics.  Moore didn't come up with the idea for Watchmen from thin air, which makes it fair game for other creators.

As for Alan Moore, whatever.  Those of us who read comics on a regular basis know that however great Moore was or is, he is a miserable misanthrope who is only happy when he's not.  I guess he can be mad that he doesn't own the rights to anything and won't see much if any money from the prequels.  I'd care if Moore hadn't made his bones in the 1980s working with a series of DC characters (Batman, Superman, Swamp Thing) whose creators never got paid a fraction of what those characters made for DC.  Now that Moore is fat and rich, he's going to claim the path of moral purity?  Fck outta here.

Not to sound to cool for school, but the whole controversy kind of makes me yawn.  The people who get most excited about Watchmen seem to be the kind of people who have only read three "graphic novels" in their lives and thus miss the really amazing comics that come out every week.  As a medium, comics has moved passed Watchmen, in content and scope if not in quality, because, yes, Watchmen really is that good.

Maybe the most exciting part of the Watchmen prequels is that the original story will now become less of a boring old Bible and more of a living document upon which other good writers can build, which will only bring greater glory to original story.  I'm so excited that a broader audience is about to discover how awesome Brian Azzarrello is.

January in Review

Analytics?  Analytics.  This will be a recurring feature in which I hold myself accountable and review how I did the month before, all in an effort to do better in the future

Days Blogged: 31 of 31, for a 100 percent blog rate

Days Missed, January: 0

Days Missed, 2012: 0

Southern Rap Classic Earned?  Oh, indeed.

Most Viewed Post: Her and Me, January 1st

My Favorite Post: How To Change The World, January 28th

Post I Wish I Had To Do Over: The Ice Cube/Yoga post from yesterday.  I'm in the middle of finishing an article submission of my scholarly work, and I was way too fried to take on something that ambitious.

Three Things I Learned

1. Writing about magic does not go over with my initial audience.
2. TWEDP can be a way to highlight the wonderful things that my friends are doing, and those stories seem to connect with readers.
3. Writing every day is something I can manage.

Three Goals for February

1. Clean up one of my yoga pieces and submit to Elephant Journal.
2. Write about the work to which I am contributing for the Alliance for Student Activities.
3. Write every day.

Reader Ratings: Super.  Thanks for your time and your support.