Online platforms have been good to me in regards to networking. I am not where I want to be in my career yet, but I get the impression that when I do get there, it will have a lot to do with the relationships I built starting online, as opposed to the ones in person.
Such platforms, despite their pitfalls are valuable to me because they eliminate all the bullshit. (And no matter what anybody tells you, 80% of traditional networking is nothing but bullshitting, end of story.) If I see a blog post I like, I leave a comment on it. It's self contained and obvious what the blog is about, and it is clear that the author is expecting people to approach them about it. They respond to my wonderfully specific initial contact, and in many cases, instant new network connections result. I can right away start opening up my highly inquisitive mind and ask all sort of questions about what they do, who they are, how they arrived at their opinion. Right to Final Jeopardy without the pointless cocktail party small talk for warm up.
But when it comes to learning about specific topics and discussing the nature of one's field, there are certain types that are very difficult for me to engage online or offline. One such group that often puts up barriers to my preferred method of exploring a new relationship are consultants. To be more specific, consultants in such categories as social media, public relations, marketing, and other mostly intangible fields.
What follows is a professional, not a personal assessment. It has nothing to do with how wonderful a person you may be if you are a consultant. But I do continue to hit a snag professionally whenever I try to get to know one. Try to network with them, as it were.
The difficulty I have with establishing a relationship with these people is that one can't really explore the nature of their work, aside from the basics. They can talk about previous accomplishments, and perhaps show me a portfolio of their work which I suppose is sort of okay. It tends to get boring after a while, though, as I like to talk to people not resumes. But many consultants passed a certain point won't discuss ideas or brainstorm with you because they "don't work for free." Given the nature of their work this barricade is often thrown up even in social situations that would otherwise be unconnected with career advancement. It is an understandable but very unfortunate defense mechanism that consultants throw up, which tends to discourage people like me.
And therein lies the problem with networking, or sometimes even socializing with consultants. Unlike other occupations, they have to place a limit on how many questions they can answer about what they do. What is worse, they have to place a serious cap on answering questions pertaining to what they would do in any given situation. And that type of conversational limitation can really dump cool water on a developing idea exchange with me, because I love asking people, "if this happened, how would you handle it in your position?"
Not to mention it tends to sound the slightest bit smug when somebody says, "I can't offer anymore on that unless you pay me," during a conversation. Fair as it may be to one's personal bottom line, taking this position is going to sound unfriendly and rude to a lot of people.
I'll illustrate my frustrations.
Let's say I encounter a nature photographer on Twitter. I can ask her what sort of camera she uses. The type of photos she takes. She can actually show me some of her pictures. I can ask her, without feeling under threat of taking food out of her mouth, "I always have a hard time taking pictures of moving objects, what shutter speed do you suggest?" Matters of her art, her science skills, how she picks subjects, what she would do in that tasty hypothetical situation I mentioned. The answers to these questions often determine how interested I am in establishing a relationship. And unless she has other reasons, she is perfectly at liberty to answer all of them. Because she is paid to take photographs, not to talk about photography. Ergo, by talking about what she does, and what she can do, she isn't robbing herself. She and I can feel free to brainstorm about taking pictures. (And if she reciprocates, I can brainstorm with her about, say, writing a novel.)
Ask that same set of questions to an internet marketing consultant. The conversation would be much shorter. Because they are paid to brainstorm. They make money by assessing a situation and coming up with solutions. The exploration of photography I had with the photographer would be something for which I would have to be charged by the hour with the marketing consultant. That is because the exploration of the ideas is the very thing for which the consultant gets paid. And whether I opt to pay the consultant for her hour's worth of suggestions and ideas, or if I opt to bid them good day and discontinue the conversation, I'm bound to feel let down by the whole experience.
"You'd never ask your photography friend to take pictures for your magazine for free would you? So why the hell should I as a consultant offer my services for free? Answer me that, Mr. XYZ Guy."
Okay, here is your answer. No, I wouldn't ask a photographer to take pictures for free. And I wouldn't expect a consultant to work for free either. The issue isn't the legitimacy of charging people. I could charge people for the right to shake my hand. There is nothing stopping me. But it would certainly put a damper on my social life.
The difference between the photographer and the consultant is I am free to explore the expertise of the photographer through the most basic of human functions; by speaking to them. And by being directly exposed to the artistry, the acumen, the aspirations and advice of the photographer, even if I don't have a prayer of matching her in skill and accomplishment, I am improved. Inspired. With a consultant, I am warned I may be on the clock. Makes it tricky.
Look, many consultants do great work. Like any profession, kind, generous, helpful, brilliant people consult for a living. And they naturally have passions outside of their chosen field. People are more than what they do for a living. God knows I shout that truth every chance I get. But in professional as opposed to the personal arena, where our toehold is often established through conversation about our contributions and why we make them, I think consultants are at a bit of a disadvantage. They are when it comes tome, anyway.
Maybe if they eased up somewhat on what they will and won't talk about off of the clock. In order to network effectively they may have to actually give away some of their products and services for free during the course of regular conversation. After all, to an extent even the photographer does so. I may not own the photo, but once I see it, it's in my mind and in my heart wherever I go. If photographers attempted to charge for every time that happened, they'd be out of business.
Showing posts with label conversation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label conversation. Show all posts
Friday, February 4, 2011
Monday, August 30, 2010
Be Interesting, But Allow Others to Be So Too: By Laryssa Wirstiuk
I like to listen to stories. If you can tell me a captivating story, I will probably want to be your friend. However, listening for long periods of time can be exhausting.
Very few people understand the art of conversation. Have you ever felt completely drained by a chatty, self-absorbed storyteller? These people don’t know how to ask questions - they just know how to talk.
I also love to tell stories, but I'm better at sharing with people who make me feel comfortable or seem genuinely interested in what I have to say.
Otherwise, I don't open up easily. If my companion is dominating the “conversation”, I shy away. Trying to fight for speaking rights is almost as tiring as having to listen to a non-stop talker, and it’s seldom worth the effort.
So, how can you and I have better conversations? Find a reason to be genuinely interested in the other person, even if you don't think you share anything in common.
If you dig deeply enough, you can find something interesting about anyone. Make discovering another person a game you play with yourself. Dig until you find something interesting, and you will ultimately gain more respect for the other person.
Take turns. Keep track of how long you have been talking. Limit yourself to your most compelling stories. Before you open your mouth, ask yourself - if I were the other person, would I really want to hear this story? Pick and choose what you share. If you share only the best stories, the other person will most likely find you more interesting and ask you questions too.
Ask follow-up questions. If you struggle with this, pretend you’re a journalist for the New York Times who has been assigned a very important story. You want to impress your editors. What questions can you ask your subject to extract the most interesting information?
Try to avoid hot-button issues like politics and religion, unless you're prepared for conflict. Sure, these topics can ignite a stale conversation, but you should be ready to face the consequences.
Please, for my sake and for everyone's sake: be self aware. We all want to share, to feel like our presence is acknowledged. If you do catch yourself talking excessively about yourself, make a joke about it.
Laryssa Wirstiuk is a writer and teacher in New Jersey. Her recently revamped blog is Comma 'n Sentence.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Obsession to the Point of Obsession
I want to talk about obsession. The actual thing, not hyperbole for being fond of something. In fact that is part of the point I hope to make; that you can be fond of something, even love it, and not be obsessed with it.
Yet I face some challenges when it comes to writing this post. I realized that there are way too many examples from which to choose in this society of things with which people are flat out obsessed. And I don't mean that everything is the object of someone's obsession. I mean that there are numerous examples of entire obsessed communities and sub-cultures devoted to one thing. One doesn't even have to research to find them. One can walk done the street and probably see some of them. (I bet you already have an idea in your head about what subjects could fall into this category.)
The fact that there are so many such communities proves my point to a degree. But for this post I had to pick one example, for illustrative purposes. So I did. But not just at random. One that I have determined to be by far the most egregious example of obsession I have ever encountered. One that can start a fight and end friendships quicker than any other. Believe it or not, I am not referring to religion. (Another big one.) I am referring to Star Wars.
I promise you that I know church goers who are less obsessed with God than some people are with this movie franchise. There are other things which illicit similar regrettable behaviors, yes. But this one seems to be at the top of the dubious list. So Star Wars is the focal point.
As a contrast, I offer up my passion for the works of Shakespeare. I intend to use that as an example of a passion as opposed to an obsession. Because you see, the first thing that people who are obsessed tend to do when you point out obsessive behavior is to mention that there are all kinds of things other people love. That Star Wars is just another thing for people to love, like Shakespeare. But in so doing they confuse the topic with the degree. The fault, dear reader, lies not in Star Wars, but in ourselves that we become obsessed. As I intend to show, passions are but one facet of our lives. Whereas in the case of obsession, areas of our lives end up being facets of the object.
I see four major indicators of obsession. The first is what I call excessive display.
In 4th grade there was a kid who wrote, "I love Stars Wars" on every line of every page of a notebook he owned. It wasn't for class. He just carried that with him to fill it in with "I love Star Wars" while we would hang out at lunch and recess. I was only 10 and I still knew that was a bit troubling. Not that the kid loved Star Wars, but that he had to fill up a whole notebook in public with him explaining same.
You see, a person obsessed with something has to make sure everyone knows that they are. And in case you are tempted to think it was merely the actions of a sheltered child, consider the pewter collector pieces of the Millennium Falcon worth about a grand that I have seen used as the centerpiece for a formal dining room.
I have Shakespeare books on my shelf. If there was a funny t-shirt with him on it, I'd wear it to the theatres I frequent. I still look for a suitable print of a scene from Shakespeare to hang in my hallway. When asked about my passions, I will say Shakespeare among others. But I will not write at a table full of fellow students, "I love the Bard" over and over in a book when I am supposed to be working. I won't get a bronze sculpture of Yorick's skull, or a bust of Shakespeare to place right in the middle of my table, and point it out to guests during the first (and last?) time they choose to visit me.
Furthermore, if I did these things, most people would find it odd to say the least. Even the people who have the Falcon on their table. (?)
Another concept of obsession is daily encroachment.
Have you noticed the sheer number of things that the Star Wars franchise has wedged itself into over the years? And I don't just mean the usual. (Posters, t-shirts, action figures.) I mean stuff like this. Even if that is just for kids, (which I think is wishful thinking) do we need Star Wars in the kitchen? If I had children that loved the movie, I would want to make sure they could separate that love from the enjoyment of cooking and baking with me. There are areas in life that don't need to be touched by Star Wars. And yet just a brief scan of any online store will reveal that no area of life can't be connected to it. Toilet seats, linens, pencils, shoes, credit cards. On and on.
Even concerts. Star Wars in Concert is basically spending inordinate amounts of money to do what? To go someplace and watch Star Wars. Again. Only this time there is a live orchestra to play the soundtrack as you watch. It's not a tribute to John Williams at the Boston Pops or something that may pass as a legitimate homage to a gifted composer. It's watching the movie again, with live music. (Or scenes from it, I don't know how it works exactly, and it wouldn't change my point if I did.) Did you see all of the people during the trailer on that website scream in near ecstasy as the music began? Is this love of the English horn at work, or a obsessive need to get even closer to Star Wars? It's like a Rocky Horror midnight showing flipped on its head. And four times as expensive.
Did the franchise really need yet another venue?
I can't promise that there are no Shakespeare cookbooks. But if they do exist, I imagine they are usually found in an obscure corner of the Folger Library, and are likely more scholarly than culinary. Certainly they are not on prominent display at Borders. Furthermore, I wouldn't buy one if it were, because I don't enjoy having Shakespeare in every facet of my daily life.
And while operas and symphonies exist with Shakespearean themes, they were designed that way. That is the media from which they come. A more apt comparison would be if Playstation 3 were to suddenly announce a video game version of each of Shakespeare's plays. 80 bucks a pop. I wouldn't pay money for them, because again I don't want my love of Shakespeare to be injected into anything and everything I could possibly do. Encroachment. Five yard penalty.
Lack of critical objectivity is another sign of obsession.
The first three films, (which people will always remind you are actually "Episodes 4-6") were modest entertainment, and were considered ground breaking by most movie historians. For the special effects and music, if nothing else. It brought the space genre out of the realm of the B-Movie. Sort of. Fine. So stipulated, your honor.
But by any objective metric, those three prequels were trash. Period. Acting, cinematography, screenplay, pacing. They were bad films. They made billions though. Of course they did. They had "Star Wars" stamped on them, and millions of people, fans and obsessed alike, had waited decades to see "how it all began." The films were guaranteed hits regardless of their low quality. Hence the problem. Borrowed gravitas.
I know people who are mere fans of the first Star Wars films who pretend like the prequels don't exist. Why? Because they know that the prequels are in fact garbage, and don't have a problem saying so. They not only are poor films in their own right, they tend to infringe on what the first three films accomplished, more than one grounded fan has told me.
If those same three movies had been their own trilogy, and called something like "Space Battles", most Star Wars people would rightfully rip them to shreds, and they know it. The movies certainly would not have made billions if they had been exactly the same, but with name changes.Yet the sheer amount of energy, time, and sometimes blood put into defending these terrible films because they are Star Wars is staggering.
As for me, I think the play, Love's Labor's Lost is trash. And I was once in the damn thing. It's rambling, awkward, boring, flowery to the point of incoherence and possessed of a humor so topical to the 1600's that not even scholars know what the hell half of the jokes are supposed to mean. Few companies ever perform it, and I have no problem seeing why not.
They do however frequently put on As You Like It and that one sucks too. So does Titus Andronicus. I haven't bothered to ever read the epic poem "The Rape of Lucrece" because it just doesn't interest me in the slightest.
And yet all are the creations of William Shakespeare, a man whose other works have been a major influence in my life. But he wasn't perfect, and his name being attached to something doesn't make it brilliant. It just makes it by Shakespeare. If only more people would adopt that view for things made by George Lucas.
Finally, the trait I think is most indicative of obsession is taking it personally.
Back in May, a new "holiday" was initiated. It was "Star Wars Day" among fans and obsessed alike. To be exact, it was on the fourth. Why the fourth? Because, dear friends, people could then walk around saying, "May the fourth be with you."
This hearkens back a bit to "daily encroachment" in that these people are in so much need to attach a Star Wars celebration to yet another part of their daily lives that they declared the fourth of May their own day because when said in a certain order, it vaguely sounds like one of the catchphrases from Star Wars spoken by someone with a lisp.
COME ON PEOPLE!
If you are going to use a terrible, asinine almost-pun like that for something so silly, at least have the ability to laugh at yourself about it.
Yet, I found out the hard way, people obsessed with Star Wars cannot.
On my Facebook that day, I mentioned something about thinking it was one of the most desperate, unfunny, half-assed excuses for a holiday that I had ever come across. And let's face it, it is. The vitriol and anger that came out of some people after I did that was sickening.
"Why are you so hostile to people who love something? Don't you love anything?"
"What's with all of the hate?"
"A theatre geek that has a problem with Star Wars? I call bullshit on your attitude."
"How long are we supposed to put up with your narcissism?"
"What sort of fear are you really hiding by lashing out at Star Wars fans?"
I'd like to point out that 90% of the time I could put, "I just broke my arm" on my Facebook status and not one person would respond with anything. But mess with Star Wars and suddenly it's on?
Or the time when I learned of one of my former friends, (note, "former") was going to the previously mentioned Star Wars in Concert. This girl always prided herself in "telling it like it is" and "not pulling any punches. What you see is what you get." You know the type. Pursuant to that she would have no trouble telling you if your shoes were ugly, or if your writing was boring and not worth her time. (Which she told me more than once.) Yet when I ribbed this frank, allegedly fun loving, down-to-earth and "I don't care what people have to say" Star Wars fan that her going to Star Wars in Concert was "pathetic", the literal end of our friendship began. The nastiness. The defensiveness. The sheer hypocrisy of being able to hold up Star Wars as a legitimate passion that I had no right to mock while going out of her way to tell me my writing was no good or letting people know she "hated" the bands that appeared on their t-shirts?
I don't talk to a lot of those people anymore. And it's all because they feel as though they have a personal stake in a stupid movie series. A movie series. They didn't write it, direct it or appear in it. They have nothing at all to do with any of the people attached to it. Yet when they are silent and apathetic about everything else I say and do, they suddenly have all the energy and interest in the world to reply to my thoughts when I dismiss Star Wars kitsch. (Not dismissing them as people.)
And that's the problem. If you cannot hear criticism of a movie you like without feeling as though someone is attacking your whole way of life, you are obsessed. (Or you secretly know that your level of love for the movie is inappropriate but you don't want to admit it to the world when somebody calls you out for it.)
I am disappointed when people say they do not like (or even hate) Shakespeare. But if I took it personally every time somebody said it, I'd never leave the house. Because a lot of people hate his work, and for some reason have little problem in expressing it loudly and often. As though they are rebelling against their parents during the senior prom or something. Interestingly, many of the people who take pleasure in always telling me they hate Shakespeare are Star Wars fanatics. (Yes, the very people who do not like to be told that they perhaps may be just ever so childish for building their own light saber handle out of spare car parts.)
Shakespeare isn't for everybody, and I know that. Nor do I care. I think most people who hate his work do not understand him, but that is my view. I know that it doesn't take away from what the plays do for me. And I didn't know Shakespeare personally. So what's it to me if you don't like him?
If someone tells me, "I hate King Lear", what if I came back with, "Oh really? Why? Is it because you're a stupid illiterate backwoods gun toting inbreed that is afraid of, or unable to think for himself? I guess so."
Overkill, don't you think? Yet mention in passing to a Star Wars fanatic how goofy you find the movies to be and see if you get treated any better.
In conclusion, it doesn't bother me if you enjoy watching Star Wars anymore than it bothers me if you enjoy eating celery. But there is a line between enjoying and obsessing. I have tried to point out that line here in this post. Excessive displays, daily encroachment, lack of critical objectivity and taking it personally can be signs of being obsessed with anything, whether it be Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, football, political candidates, or anything else. I would advise anyone who may recognize this behavior in either themselves or in someone else to ask what it is about either the person, or their lives that makes such excessive fandom so necessary. Is it really only a love for something, or is it a misguided attempt to fill a void of some sort?
Be passionate and share those passions with others. Partake in things you love. But at the end of the day there is so much out there to learn from and observe, so many people that like and dislike so many other things. Make sure you leave room on your shelf, literally and figuratively, for new things. To put it simply, life is too short to be obsessed with anything.
Do you know anybody who is obsessed in this way with something? Are you? Does it bother you in anyway? What causes obsession? How do you distinguish between a passion and on obsession? (Or do you?)
Yet I face some challenges when it comes to writing this post. I realized that there are way too many examples from which to choose in this society of things with which people are flat out obsessed. And I don't mean that everything is the object of someone's obsession. I mean that there are numerous examples of entire obsessed communities and sub-cultures devoted to one thing. One doesn't even have to research to find them. One can walk done the street and probably see some of them. (I bet you already have an idea in your head about what subjects could fall into this category.)
The fact that there are so many such communities proves my point to a degree. But for this post I had to pick one example, for illustrative purposes. So I did. But not just at random. One that I have determined to be by far the most egregious example of obsession I have ever encountered. One that can start a fight and end friendships quicker than any other. Believe it or not, I am not referring to religion. (Another big one.) I am referring to Star Wars.
I promise you that I know church goers who are less obsessed with God than some people are with this movie franchise. There are other things which illicit similar regrettable behaviors, yes. But this one seems to be at the top of the dubious list. So Star Wars is the focal point.
As a contrast, I offer up my passion for the works of Shakespeare. I intend to use that as an example of a passion as opposed to an obsession. Because you see, the first thing that people who are obsessed tend to do when you point out obsessive behavior is to mention that there are all kinds of things other people love. That Star Wars is just another thing for people to love, like Shakespeare. But in so doing they confuse the topic with the degree. The fault, dear reader, lies not in Star Wars, but in ourselves that we become obsessed. As I intend to show, passions are but one facet of our lives. Whereas in the case of obsession, areas of our lives end up being facets of the object.
I see four major indicators of obsession. The first is what I call excessive display.
In 4th grade there was a kid who wrote, "I love Stars Wars" on every line of every page of a notebook he owned. It wasn't for class. He just carried that with him to fill it in with "I love Star Wars" while we would hang out at lunch and recess. I was only 10 and I still knew that was a bit troubling. Not that the kid loved Star Wars, but that he had to fill up a whole notebook in public with him explaining same.
You see, a person obsessed with something has to make sure everyone knows that they are. And in case you are tempted to think it was merely the actions of a sheltered child, consider the pewter collector pieces of the Millennium Falcon worth about a grand that I have seen used as the centerpiece for a formal dining room.
I have Shakespeare books on my shelf. If there was a funny t-shirt with him on it, I'd wear it to the theatres I frequent. I still look for a suitable print of a scene from Shakespeare to hang in my hallway. When asked about my passions, I will say Shakespeare among others. But I will not write at a table full of fellow students, "I love the Bard" over and over in a book when I am supposed to be working. I won't get a bronze sculpture of Yorick's skull, or a bust of Shakespeare to place right in the middle of my table, and point it out to guests during the first (and last?) time they choose to visit me.
Furthermore, if I did these things, most people would find it odd to say the least. Even the people who have the Falcon on their table. (?)
Another concept of obsession is daily encroachment.
Have you noticed the sheer number of things that the Star Wars franchise has wedged itself into over the years? And I don't just mean the usual. (Posters, t-shirts, action figures.) I mean stuff like this. Even if that is just for kids, (which I think is wishful thinking) do we need Star Wars in the kitchen? If I had children that loved the movie, I would want to make sure they could separate that love from the enjoyment of cooking and baking with me. There are areas in life that don't need to be touched by Star Wars. And yet just a brief scan of any online store will reveal that no area of life can't be connected to it. Toilet seats, linens, pencils, shoes, credit cards. On and on.
Even concerts. Star Wars in Concert is basically spending inordinate amounts of money to do what? To go someplace and watch Star Wars. Again. Only this time there is a live orchestra to play the soundtrack as you watch. It's not a tribute to John Williams at the Boston Pops or something that may pass as a legitimate homage to a gifted composer. It's watching the movie again, with live music. (Or scenes from it, I don't know how it works exactly, and it wouldn't change my point if I did.) Did you see all of the people during the trailer on that website scream in near ecstasy as the music began? Is this love of the English horn at work, or a obsessive need to get even closer to Star Wars? It's like a Rocky Horror midnight showing flipped on its head. And four times as expensive.
Did the franchise really need yet another venue?
I can't promise that there are no Shakespeare cookbooks. But if they do exist, I imagine they are usually found in an obscure corner of the Folger Library, and are likely more scholarly than culinary. Certainly they are not on prominent display at Borders. Furthermore, I wouldn't buy one if it were, because I don't enjoy having Shakespeare in every facet of my daily life.
And while operas and symphonies exist with Shakespearean themes, they were designed that way. That is the media from which they come. A more apt comparison would be if Playstation 3 were to suddenly announce a video game version of each of Shakespeare's plays. 80 bucks a pop. I wouldn't pay money for them, because again I don't want my love of Shakespeare to be injected into anything and everything I could possibly do. Encroachment. Five yard penalty.
Lack of critical objectivity is another sign of obsession.
The first three films, (which people will always remind you are actually "Episodes 4-6") were modest entertainment, and were considered ground breaking by most movie historians. For the special effects and music, if nothing else. It brought the space genre out of the realm of the B-Movie. Sort of. Fine. So stipulated, your honor.
But by any objective metric, those three prequels were trash. Period. Acting, cinematography, screenplay, pacing. They were bad films. They made billions though. Of course they did. They had "Star Wars" stamped on them, and millions of people, fans and obsessed alike, had waited decades to see "how it all began." The films were guaranteed hits regardless of their low quality. Hence the problem. Borrowed gravitas.
I know people who are mere fans of the first Star Wars films who pretend like the prequels don't exist. Why? Because they know that the prequels are in fact garbage, and don't have a problem saying so. They not only are poor films in their own right, they tend to infringe on what the first three films accomplished, more than one grounded fan has told me.
If those same three movies had been their own trilogy, and called something like "Space Battles", most Star Wars people would rightfully rip them to shreds, and they know it. The movies certainly would not have made billions if they had been exactly the same, but with name changes.Yet the sheer amount of energy, time, and sometimes blood put into defending these terrible films because they are Star Wars is staggering.
As for me, I think the play, Love's Labor's Lost is trash. And I was once in the damn thing. It's rambling, awkward, boring, flowery to the point of incoherence and possessed of a humor so topical to the 1600's that not even scholars know what the hell half of the jokes are supposed to mean. Few companies ever perform it, and I have no problem seeing why not.
They do however frequently put on As You Like It and that one sucks too. So does Titus Andronicus. I haven't bothered to ever read the epic poem "The Rape of Lucrece" because it just doesn't interest me in the slightest.
And yet all are the creations of William Shakespeare, a man whose other works have been a major influence in my life. But he wasn't perfect, and his name being attached to something doesn't make it brilliant. It just makes it by Shakespeare. If only more people would adopt that view for things made by George Lucas.
Finally, the trait I think is most indicative of obsession is taking it personally.
Back in May, a new "holiday" was initiated. It was "Star Wars Day" among fans and obsessed alike. To be exact, it was on the fourth. Why the fourth? Because, dear friends, people could then walk around saying, "May the fourth be with you."
This hearkens back a bit to "daily encroachment" in that these people are in so much need to attach a Star Wars celebration to yet another part of their daily lives that they declared the fourth of May their own day because when said in a certain order, it vaguely sounds like one of the catchphrases from Star Wars spoken by someone with a lisp.
COME ON PEOPLE!
If you are going to use a terrible, asinine almost-pun like that for something so silly, at least have the ability to laugh at yourself about it.
Yet, I found out the hard way, people obsessed with Star Wars cannot.
On my Facebook that day, I mentioned something about thinking it was one of the most desperate, unfunny, half-assed excuses for a holiday that I had ever come across. And let's face it, it is. The vitriol and anger that came out of some people after I did that was sickening.
"Why are you so hostile to people who love something? Don't you love anything?"
"What's with all of the hate?"
"A theatre geek that has a problem with Star Wars? I call bullshit on your attitude."
"How long are we supposed to put up with your narcissism?"
"What sort of fear are you really hiding by lashing out at Star Wars fans?"
I'd like to point out that 90% of the time I could put, "I just broke my arm" on my Facebook status and not one person would respond with anything. But mess with Star Wars and suddenly it's on?
Or the time when I learned of one of my former friends, (note, "former") was going to the previously mentioned Star Wars in Concert. This girl always prided herself in "telling it like it is" and "not pulling any punches. What you see is what you get." You know the type. Pursuant to that she would have no trouble telling you if your shoes were ugly, or if your writing was boring and not worth her time. (Which she told me more than once.) Yet when I ribbed this frank, allegedly fun loving, down-to-earth and "I don't care what people have to say" Star Wars fan that her going to Star Wars in Concert was "pathetic", the literal end of our friendship began. The nastiness. The defensiveness. The sheer hypocrisy of being able to hold up Star Wars as a legitimate passion that I had no right to mock while going out of her way to tell me my writing was no good or letting people know she "hated" the bands that appeared on their t-shirts?
I don't talk to a lot of those people anymore. And it's all because they feel as though they have a personal stake in a stupid movie series. A movie series. They didn't write it, direct it or appear in it. They have nothing at all to do with any of the people attached to it. Yet when they are silent and apathetic about everything else I say and do, they suddenly have all the energy and interest in the world to reply to my thoughts when I dismiss Star Wars kitsch. (Not dismissing them as people.)
And that's the problem. If you cannot hear criticism of a movie you like without feeling as though someone is attacking your whole way of life, you are obsessed. (Or you secretly know that your level of love for the movie is inappropriate but you don't want to admit it to the world when somebody calls you out for it.)
I am disappointed when people say they do not like (or even hate) Shakespeare. But if I took it personally every time somebody said it, I'd never leave the house. Because a lot of people hate his work, and for some reason have little problem in expressing it loudly and often. As though they are rebelling against their parents during the senior prom or something. Interestingly, many of the people who take pleasure in always telling me they hate Shakespeare are Star Wars fanatics. (Yes, the very people who do not like to be told that they perhaps may be just ever so childish for building their own light saber handle out of spare car parts.)
Shakespeare isn't for everybody, and I know that. Nor do I care. I think most people who hate his work do not understand him, but that is my view. I know that it doesn't take away from what the plays do for me. And I didn't know Shakespeare personally. So what's it to me if you don't like him?
If someone tells me, "I hate King Lear", what if I came back with, "Oh really? Why? Is it because you're a stupid illiterate backwoods gun toting inbreed that is afraid of, or unable to think for himself? I guess so."
Overkill, don't you think? Yet mention in passing to a Star Wars fanatic how goofy you find the movies to be and see if you get treated any better.
In conclusion, it doesn't bother me if you enjoy watching Star Wars anymore than it bothers me if you enjoy eating celery. But there is a line between enjoying and obsessing. I have tried to point out that line here in this post. Excessive displays, daily encroachment, lack of critical objectivity and taking it personally can be signs of being obsessed with anything, whether it be Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, football, political candidates, or anything else. I would advise anyone who may recognize this behavior in either themselves or in someone else to ask what it is about either the person, or their lives that makes such excessive fandom so necessary. Is it really only a love for something, or is it a misguided attempt to fill a void of some sort?
Be passionate and share those passions with others. Partake in things you love. But at the end of the day there is so much out there to learn from and observe, so many people that like and dislike so many other things. Make sure you leave room on your shelf, literally and figuratively, for new things. To put it simply, life is too short to be obsessed with anything.
Do you know anybody who is obsessed in this way with something? Are you? Does it bother you in anyway? What causes obsession? How do you distinguish between a passion and on obsession? (Or do you?)
Thursday, June 3, 2010
I Hate To Interrupt, But Maybe I Should? (A Featured Post on Brazen Careerist)
I really detest being interrupted while I am trying to have a conversation. I hate when people jump to another subject before I am finished my point. I hate it when people believe they know what the end of my sentence is going to be and finish it for me. And in general I hate to be in the middle of talking to someone else only to be approached, without pause or deference, by another person.
Which means, in turn, I am very unwilling to do all of this to other people. And as a rule, I don't. I was raised not to, and even as an adult, I see very clearly the reasons why I was raised not to do these things. It's disruptive, rude, and shows a lack of respect to the other person talking.
Exceptions exist of course, even for me. When I am with some of my oldest friends just goofing around we talk over each other about the dumb crap we usually talk about. A football game or the lame ass we used to know back in school. That's part of being good friends I dare say. But only when you know someone well enough, and even then, only when the subject matter is not of particular importance, do I feel that over talking and cutting off is acceptable.
But when I am first meeting new people, I consider it very rude to not be allowed to finish what I am saying.
And yet sometimes I wonder if that is the only way people know how to converse anymore. And if that is true, is it the only way to clearly present the parts of you that are most interesting to a new acquaintance?
Anyone who follows me here, on Brazen Careerist, or on Twitter knows that I despise standard networking, and that I don't do much of it. But some of the reasons I hate it I think have an effect on my interactions with people even when I am not networking. Namely, I like to let people finish their points before I offer something to a conversation.
But more and more, people don't know how to finish their point, or are otherwise unwilling to just stop talking long enough for there to be any kind of pause to fill. As though people are afraid to stop talking. And so when they meet me, they end up talking in an unbroken string for 15 minutes, and I simply nod. That is because it is in my DNA not to interrupt someone new while they are speaking to me, if otherwise they are not being offensive, and not preventing me from doing something important. (And usually, they are not doing either.)
I wonder if the overall effect is that I seem like a boring person that hasn't done much, or doesn't have anything of interest to say. After all, if I had any passion for anything, I would interrupt once in a while, right? Maybe? And hence no connection is made.
I do hold other people responsible as well in this. The art of conversation, especially with people you have just met, dictates that you give and take. That you ask questions as often as you express an opinion or tell a story. But setting that aside, does the world find people who interrupt, and talk over, to be more interesting or engaging somehow than those that do not?
If so, I don't know if I could ever adjust to doing something to others that I hate being done to me. (This is perhaps why I much prefer written communication.)
Nonetheless, what do you think? Do people like me need to become comfortable with talking over, or cutting off people, or finishing their thoughts in order to make more of an impression during a conversation?
Which means, in turn, I am very unwilling to do all of this to other people. And as a rule, I don't. I was raised not to, and even as an adult, I see very clearly the reasons why I was raised not to do these things. It's disruptive, rude, and shows a lack of respect to the other person talking.
Exceptions exist of course, even for me. When I am with some of my oldest friends just goofing around we talk over each other about the dumb crap we usually talk about. A football game or the lame ass we used to know back in school. That's part of being good friends I dare say. But only when you know someone well enough, and even then, only when the subject matter is not of particular importance, do I feel that over talking and cutting off is acceptable.
But when I am first meeting new people, I consider it very rude to not be allowed to finish what I am saying.
And yet sometimes I wonder if that is the only way people know how to converse anymore. And if that is true, is it the only way to clearly present the parts of you that are most interesting to a new acquaintance?
Anyone who follows me here, on Brazen Careerist, or on Twitter knows that I despise standard networking, and that I don't do much of it. But some of the reasons I hate it I think have an effect on my interactions with people even when I am not networking. Namely, I like to let people finish their points before I offer something to a conversation.
But more and more, people don't know how to finish their point, or are otherwise unwilling to just stop talking long enough for there to be any kind of pause to fill. As though people are afraid to stop talking. And so when they meet me, they end up talking in an unbroken string for 15 minutes, and I simply nod. That is because it is in my DNA not to interrupt someone new while they are speaking to me, if otherwise they are not being offensive, and not preventing me from doing something important. (And usually, they are not doing either.)
I wonder if the overall effect is that I seem like a boring person that hasn't done much, or doesn't have anything of interest to say. After all, if I had any passion for anything, I would interrupt once in a while, right? Maybe? And hence no connection is made.
I do hold other people responsible as well in this. The art of conversation, especially with people you have just met, dictates that you give and take. That you ask questions as often as you express an opinion or tell a story. But setting that aside, does the world find people who interrupt, and talk over, to be more interesting or engaging somehow than those that do not?
If so, I don't know if I could ever adjust to doing something to others that I hate being done to me. (This is perhaps why I much prefer written communication.)
Nonetheless, what do you think? Do people like me need to become comfortable with talking over, or cutting off people, or finishing their thoughts in order to make more of an impression during a conversation?
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Making Friends vs. Becoming Friends
We often see those terms as being interchangeable. Indeed when I am speaking casually I often use them as such. But they are not.
According to Merriam-Webster, the first listed current definition of "make" is;
"to cause to happen"
The first current definition for "become" given by the same dictionary is;
"to come into existence".
Despite there being some overlap in the secondary meanings of both words, these two initial definitions are quite distinct. They are the definitions I am using pertaining to friendship.
It could be truly said that I almost never truly make friends.
This doesn't mean I have social anxiety, per se. I walk in crowds all the time. I order food, give directions and such. Nor am I anti-social. I respond to small talk that is initiated by someone else. A little bit. But I am just not in the business of "making" things like that happen. It isn't me.
I do not go to bars or clubs with the express purpose of making new friends or even acquaintances. When invited to a party I converse almost exclusively with those I already know, unless introduced to someone else. If I know only a few people at a very large party, I usually will not attend at all. I don't strike up conversation in elevators, and I do not start chats with people in check out lines.
Again, in short, I do not make friends.
They do, however, often "make me" as I say. But when I want to write in the active voice, (as we are supposed to), I say "Jane and I became friends."
This is usually do to me and "Jane" engaging in the same activity. It is no coincidence that 90% of my current friends are people I met through theatre. Theatre is one of the only social activities I engage in on a regular basis that involves large numbers of people who are initially strangers. Also, being in the trenches of rehearsing and performing a live show can bring people together quite efficiently. Friendships "come into existence" on and behind the stage due to mutual struggle and passion.
I engage in no other activities that consistently bring friendships into existence. (One of the cons of freelancing.)
My relationships are always built on mutual activity. They form as a result as pursuing something else with others because the inner natures of both me and the other people are more accessible that way.
Now, I can practically here all of my new Twitter and Brazen Careerist acquaintances choking on their coffee as they read this one. I can hear word for word what they would say; both as individuals, and collectively as some sort of Gen-Y Borg Cube:
"You need to acquire the ability to make friends. How can you not be out there, exchanging your business card, talking up your freelance skills, shaking hands, exchanging phone numbers, going to tweet-ups? You may not like it, but you are doomed to failure in this day and age if you can't go into bars, group activities, even libraries and just start introducing yourself to people around you. The world turns because of extroverts. Be one of them."
My new contacts are good people. I like them. I have learned much from them in the 6 months or so I have been engaged with them via various new social media. They mean well in most cases, and I appreciate it. And in many cases they are correct.
But not in all, and probably not in this one.
For I am Too XYZ to be like that. I fully realize that being that way does make things happen faster in many cases. And as has been the case with many people, I am doing more "virtual friend making" thanks to the internet. It allows me to behave more like the hand shaking conversation starting extrovert at Starbucks. But I will never BE him.
I am sure I will attend a Tweet-up one of these days. But even if I do it will not be like it is for most people, because I just do not posses those skills or that personality. I think those that have it really don't understand that people like us that are Too XYZ can no more evolve out of some of our traits than we could suddenly turn into another race or gender. It just isn't there.
I am not ashamed of this. Too often we are asked to rewrite our DNA because we are told "that's just the way it is, like it or not." Those words are often spoke, with ease, by people who were born to be the way they are asking me to become. I long to improve, but I do not long to change, and there is a difference.
So my goal is to seek out, learn about, and if needs must, personally create new means by which people like me can make the connections that need to be made, while not feeling like we are wasting our time trying to be something we are not. I have spent a lifetime doing this in small degrees, so now it is simply a matter of enlarging the scale of it. My "tweeps" have already helped me do this in some regard. But I know in large degree it is up to me to dig that unorthodox path myself. Or at least with the help and advice of fellow Too XYZers out there.
Is this you? I want to hear how you maneuver in the world of friends if it is. Comment me.
According to Merriam-Webster, the first listed current definition of "make" is;
"to cause to happen"
The first current definition for "become" given by the same dictionary is;
"to come into existence".
Despite there being some overlap in the secondary meanings of both words, these two initial definitions are quite distinct. They are the definitions I am using pertaining to friendship.
It could be truly said that I almost never truly make friends.
This doesn't mean I have social anxiety, per se. I walk in crowds all the time. I order food, give directions and such. Nor am I anti-social. I respond to small talk that is initiated by someone else. A little bit. But I am just not in the business of "making" things like that happen. It isn't me.
I do not go to bars or clubs with the express purpose of making new friends or even acquaintances. When invited to a party I converse almost exclusively with those I already know, unless introduced to someone else. If I know only a few people at a very large party, I usually will not attend at all. I don't strike up conversation in elevators, and I do not start chats with people in check out lines.
Again, in short, I do not make friends.
They do, however, often "make me" as I say. But when I want to write in the active voice, (as we are supposed to), I say "Jane and I became friends."
This is usually do to me and "Jane" engaging in the same activity. It is no coincidence that 90% of my current friends are people I met through theatre. Theatre is one of the only social activities I engage in on a regular basis that involves large numbers of people who are initially strangers. Also, being in the trenches of rehearsing and performing a live show can bring people together quite efficiently. Friendships "come into existence" on and behind the stage due to mutual struggle and passion.
I engage in no other activities that consistently bring friendships into existence. (One of the cons of freelancing.)
My relationships are always built on mutual activity. They form as a result as pursuing something else with others because the inner natures of both me and the other people are more accessible that way.
Now, I can practically here all of my new Twitter and Brazen Careerist acquaintances choking on their coffee as they read this one. I can hear word for word what they would say; both as individuals, and collectively as some sort of Gen-Y Borg Cube:
"You need to acquire the ability to make friends. How can you not be out there, exchanging your business card, talking up your freelance skills, shaking hands, exchanging phone numbers, going to tweet-ups? You may not like it, but you are doomed to failure in this day and age if you can't go into bars, group activities, even libraries and just start introducing yourself to people around you. The world turns because of extroverts. Be one of them."
My new contacts are good people. I like them. I have learned much from them in the 6 months or so I have been engaged with them via various new social media. They mean well in most cases, and I appreciate it. And in many cases they are correct.
But not in all, and probably not in this one.
For I am Too XYZ to be like that. I fully realize that being that way does make things happen faster in many cases. And as has been the case with many people, I am doing more "virtual friend making" thanks to the internet. It allows me to behave more like the hand shaking conversation starting extrovert at Starbucks. But I will never BE him.
I am sure I will attend a Tweet-up one of these days. But even if I do it will not be like it is for most people, because I just do not posses those skills or that personality. I think those that have it really don't understand that people like us that are Too XYZ can no more evolve out of some of our traits than we could suddenly turn into another race or gender. It just isn't there.
I am not ashamed of this. Too often we are asked to rewrite our DNA because we are told "that's just the way it is, like it or not." Those words are often spoke, with ease, by people who were born to be the way they are asking me to become. I long to improve, but I do not long to change, and there is a difference.
So my goal is to seek out, learn about, and if needs must, personally create new means by which people like me can make the connections that need to be made, while not feeling like we are wasting our time trying to be something we are not. I have spent a lifetime doing this in small degrees, so now it is simply a matter of enlarging the scale of it. My "tweeps" have already helped me do this in some regard. But I know in large degree it is up to me to dig that unorthodox path myself. Or at least with the help and advice of fellow Too XYZers out there.
Is this you? I want to hear how you maneuver in the world of friends if it is. Comment me.
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