I’d like to take this opportunity to clarify my thoughts on what exactly this blog’s purpose is:

1. To amuse myself when I read back over my rambles.
2. To have a single place to store all my portfolio stuff (my real-world portfolio is getting a little weathered).
3. To keep up my writing skills. Practice makes perfect, after all.
4. To comment on various subjects when the mood hits me.

I’ve figured out from working with book cover designers that it’s helpful when you have an idea to not only articulate what your idea is but also what your idea isn’t. So, this blog isn’t:

1. Intended to augment the already plentiful information available on (insert topic here). I know a little bit about several areas, and I’m always happy to give my opinions on stuff. I just don’t feel a burning need to always add my voice to the massive armies of people already talking about advertising, account planning, crafts, books, etc.
2. Meant to be a “destination” spot. If I were an expert on something, or I was really driven to make some money, I’d use this blog to hang out my shingle and hope for all the adoring masses to come flocking to receive my words of wisdom. But I’ve always been a generalist (or as one prick in college said, frivolous) so don’t expect to come here every day for the “Anitra Report” or some shit like that.
3. A website blown out into a resume. Like I said, I won’t always write mini-theses on different topics, but nor will I just use this as a platform to talk about how great I am. I find it slightly skanky when people set up entire websites that’re just glorified sell-sheets for themselves. Just join an online portfolio service and leave well enough alone.

Okay, I’ve got some time to sit down and talk a little about Laughter: An Essay on the Meaning of the Comic. Bergson, a French philosopher, wrote this in 1901 but it’s amazing how easy it is to come up with modern-day examples that fit his theories.

Basically, Bergson proposes that laughter is society’s way of correcting inelasticity in individuals. The reasoning here is that inelasticity, or the inability to adapt and be flexible, is antithetical to natural life. Since society’s primary goal is in maintaining the life we all know it instinctively attacks anything that might harm it. So for example, when someone’s walking along with their head in thc clouds and they suddenly trip, our impulse is to laugh as a way of shaming them into correcting their mechanical actions.

Bergson explores this theme of “the mechanical encrusted on the living” in really surprising depth for such a little book. He explains how even words can be considered comical when they’re used in a “mechanized” way, such as puns or double entendres where words and meaning can be interpreted in multiple ways.

But for Bergson the essence of comedy really boils down to a collective correction of the most comedy-inducing characteristic of all: vanity. Vanity, according to Bergson, is the ultimate mechanical act because when people are vain, they’re forgetting their natural, human qualities. Vanity is for people who can’t adapt and can’t acknowledge their own humanity, which is why it’s inherently comic.

There are a number of other examples of this idea, but I’m getting a little sleepy. Plus I’m looking back at what I wrote and realizing it’s probably clear as mud! Oh well. Anyway, do read this book, it’s really helpful for the many conversations you’re likely to have about comedy in your life. And no, I don’t mean that facetiously.

I just finished re-reading Laughter: An Essay on the Meaning of the Comic, by Henri Bergson. It’s a book I had to read for a class on ancient comedy. I hadn’t read it in years, but since I’m always mentioning it whenever the topic of comedy comes up I figured I should read it again, to make sure I still remembered it correctly.

I have every intention of writing a review of it, because as Carol told me when I suggested she read it, “Oh honey, I just listen to your rundowns of books like that. That way I don’t have to read them.” She might be onto something there; it’s a great little book, but slightly dense and high-falutin at times.

So long story short, until I get a moment to write a decent review so other people don’t have to wade through this book, here’s a haiku about it:

I, Living Robot,
do make myself an object
of jeers when I trip.

Okay, I’ve finally come down long enough to write about this: I didn’t suck in the APSOTW assignment! In fact, I did way better than I expected! Hell, I’m so excited I just might take Andrew up on making a full brief out of this.

I know I shouldn’t have done this, but I was putting a tiny bit of pressure on myself (alright, a lot) to do okay on this assignment. I kept thinking, “God, if you don’t get this right, you might as well just chuck the whole planning idea right now.” Yup, that’s me, Little Miss Sunshine.

Anyway, I’ve posted the assignment in my portfolio. Comments from the “teachers” are here, as well as everyone else’s assignments, which were fantastic across the board.

Two days ago I started a list of book ideas in the new blank book I did up last week:

One of the ideas I’ve been contemplating for about three years. Basically it was to create a cookbook geared toward music lovers. Cutesy recipe names, fun facts in guitar shaped boxes, recipes/meal times coordinated to track lists. Can’t miss, right? And then I read about this in the new issue of Readymade, which I only got around to opening today:

Now, what’s the lesson of this? Well for me it means that great ideas, even though some truly do have that evergreen, always smart, pretty much a guaranteed safe bet quality, do indeed have expiration dates. Take it from me, I’ve had several ideas for clothing designs, recipes, books, you name it, only to see it everywhere in like a year’s time. If you have an idea you think has some potential, try it out as soon as you can. Even if you just make a little headway (a few pages of a manuscript, a sketch of a prototype), you’ll get a feel for whether the idea has legs or not and you’ll have a basic sense of what resources you’ll need if you decide to continue. Hell, if I’d just gotten off my ass and stopped thinking, “Oh, that idea’ll keep,” I’d be a cookbook millionaire by now! Well, maybe not that great, but you get the idea.

Today’s prompt: Invent a character who sees a phone number on a restroom wall. Describe what happens when he or she dials it.

————-

Long Distance

“Hello?”

“Mom? It’s me.”

“I know who it is sweetheart, I did spit you out after all.” Her voice was a Manhattan: all smoke and clinking ice. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“Just figure I should call every few years, make sure you’re not dead.”

“You’ve always known what I am, Charlie. I never made a secret of it. So you’ve got two choices: accept it, or go to hell and quit calling.” Click.

No Mom, I thought as I slid to the restroom floor. There’s another way. I started redialing the bold black digits on the wall.

First, by way of explanation, I wanted to try out some flash fiction since it’s a form I really enjoy but don’t know much about. So I’m going to try to get into a routine of writing one short short (100 words or less) every day or two based on a prompt from my “Writer’s Block” book. Today’s prompt is just a word, “Deadline.” Here’s hoping this little project doesn’t get too tedious.

———–

The Bag

A pack of girls scattered in front of me. Twisting to the right, I thought I saw an opening. But crowds move like the ocean, angry and impenetrable.

Suddenly I was there. I raced to front of the line, not caring who got shoved aside. “The plane,” I panted, “Please.”

“Shirley” behind the desk just raised a finger. My eyes followed it, along with the plane slowly gliding out of sight.

For the first time in four days of running I started to cry. The bag in my hand just throbbed, waiting for my next move.

I’m by no means the most polite person on earth, but I do like to think I have a certain grasp of manners. Maybe that’s why I’m so fascinated with “advanced manners,” or etiquette, because I’m at more of an intermediate level.

Anyways, I encounter many, many instances in the course of daily events that make me wonder, “What would be the polite thing to do in this situation?” So, I’m going to start keeping track of these and who knows, maybe eventually they’ll wind up in some kind of book of modern manners.

Okay, first one: Since I don’t know how to drive I take the bus pretty much everywhere. As anyone who’s been on a bus knows, there are certain seats near the front of buses that’re reserved for the elderly and disabled. But what happens when you’re on a full bus and there’s only one seat available? It sounds crazy, but I’ve actually been on a bus when a hyper-obese man, elderly woman, and younger blind guy came on the bus at the same time. Luckily there were enough seats for all of them, but what if there hadn’t been? Who should’ve rightfully had first rights to a seat? Does seniority matter, or relative frailty? Ah, these are the inane questions that plague me!

This might sound terrible, but recently I’ve been fantasizing about just taking a few months off. Not just taking a vacation mind you, but actually checking out of my life for, say, three or four months. For all you reality show fans, it’s the same feeling you often get near the beginning of a season–there are so many contestants and so many possible winners that it’s hard to sift through the pile, so you start to think, “Well, maybe I’ll just take a little break and come back when they’ve narrowed down the field.” I swear, sometimes you see a stretch of time in front of you and all you can visualize is a wasteland.

I’m sure I’m not the first (or millionth) person who’s longed for human hibernation, so I really think there’s a missed business opportunity here. Cryogenics people, I’m looking squarely at you to provide some kind of pioneering solution. Unconscious vacations? Cryo rental facilities? Freezer spas? The possibilities are endless.

I’m sitting here having yet another one of my patented Fake Epiphanies(TM). I figure that maybe writing it down will help me learn this particular lesson once and for all, so here goes.

Say for instance that there are two Anitras: Generous Anitra and Selfish Anitra. Sorta similar to Goofus and Gallant from Highlights.

Generous Anitra just loves volunteering her time. She can’t do enough to help people. Doesn’t matter if it’s signing up to be a grad school mentor, taking on freelance publicity assignments when she clearly doesn’t have the time, or contemplating making baked goods for the elderly on a monthly basis–just so long as it’s unpaid, time-consuming, and for a good cause, Generous Anitra is there.

Then we have Selfish Anitra. She’s fully aware that the laws of time and space dictate certain unmutable parameters, namely that one cannot stuff more than 24 hours into a single day. At least not without the use of mind-altering drugs or a time machine, both of which can get very pricey. Selfish Anitra is the one who slaps her forehead a day or two after Generous Anitra has volunteered to edit a friend’s resume or make cupcakes for a work function and realizes, “What the fuck? When exactly am I going to get that done? Note to self: Never help anyone. Ever!!”

The conudrum between our two Anitras is that they both make the other feel terribly guilty: Selfish Anitra chides Generous Anitra for perpetually taking on too much and letting people down. Generous Anitra makes Selfish Anitra feel like a narcissistic bitch. And the circle of life continues.