East L.A. Makeover: Stage 5, the Laundry Room Closet, video intro

Last week I decided I would kick off Stage 5 of my illustrious East L.A. Makeover series. This project has stagnated, partly due to laziness, partly due to the distracting Holiday season.

Who am I kidding.

Mostly due to laziness. And a good dose of apathy.

So tonight, with the help of my trusty videographer, I recorded the videotaped “introduction” to Stage 5 (The Laundry Room Closet), a normal segment I record prior to the beginning of each stage.

It was late, the sun had disappeared behind gray, stormy clouds and the bulb in the laundry room blew out about 3 months ago. In other words, the lighting sucked, the laundry room closet is small and cramped and barely warrants any kind of videotaped notoriety, and I frankly didn’t know how to fill the dead vocal air.

Didn’t stop me from persisting, however.

As I reviewed the video priot to uploading it to YouTube, a horrible thought occurred to me:
I’ve subjected those who have been bold enough to read Phoenixism (or whatever it is you wish to call them) with some truly God-awful videos. Bad.

Terrible quality, terrible scripts. The grade school caliber of my videos would embarrass me if I had a normal human sense of shame. Only if

I find them amusing.
And bad.
Amusingly bad.

These videos, in their frightening abundance, cannot go unnoticed.

They cannot go unnoticed in the same way a dog carcass cannot go unnoticed after it’s laid in the second lane of the Santa Monica Freeway for 5 hours.

My video collection is prolific. Or something.
After I watched the video intro to Stage 5 tonight, there is no denying the fact. It doesn’t get any worse than this!

And this East L.A. Makeover. It’s become a great source of frustration and repressed goals.

I had great aspirations back in September. I wasn’t messing around man. I was going to turn this place upside down and transform it from hovel into sleek bachelor pad.

Mmm…OK, this is still happening.

But in the six or so months since I started, I have very little to show.

So now I have 3 concurrent stages in progress.

Stage 3, the Kitchen, start date of October 26, 2009.
Stage 4, the Dining Room, start date of December 5, 2009.
Stage 5, the Laundry Room Closet, start date, any minute now.

The pace of this project can best be described as “going nowhere fast.”

Also, in order to give my collection of videos their due, I am creating a production company which will lay claim to all their mediocrity under the guise of a professional production, a rather shameless and ironic move on my part.

Introducing Ch’ E-Z Productions.

Stage 5 intro, The Laundry Room Closet.
Enjoy (or at least act the part)!

Pointlessness as an antidote

What is the point?! he griped angrily.

And as with all accusations, I react reflexively to such a statement. I spring into Defensive Mode. An accusation. “What’s your point” is a passive accusation.

Its gist?

If someone responds “what’s your point” in response to a thought you’ve laid out, the implied accusation is “what you just said isn’t important” or “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say, hence, why did you bother saying it?”

The point.
The almighty point.
The idealogical destination.

The point is the Western mind’s left-brained requirement that all intellectual expression must possess a map, a linear one-way path, a sequential chain of events with a timeline represented as beginning>middle>end.

If a, then b, and if c, then either d or e depending on the weather conditions or any other multitude of extraneous factors. Such a thought process does not take kindly to the disruptive, and many times decidedly non-linear, extraneous factors. And as such, attempts to account for extraneous possibilities by designating these various possibilities with labels, thus controlling and intellectualizing them. The unknown or unknowable thumbs its nose at us and we seek to draw it into the stodginess of our rigid equations and control.

Control the uncontrollable. And thus, manipulate the Point.

Our Western mindset, solidly linear. Our intellectual framework, firmly ensconced in a large, mass-produced cookie cutter Box. This is how our cognitive journey unfolds. Within walls, guided by straight lines, and if we are feeling a little edgy, we might even throw in some turns (but only the 90 degree kind).

What’s the point?
Maybe there is no point.

In fact, especially on this blog, there usually isn’t.
I have a tendency to be absolutely pointless in much that I do or say.
I don’t believe a Point is nearly as important as some would have us believe.

It’s the path that I value. The process in itself. Not the goal, not the conclusion, not the resolution.

I find satisfaction in the self-discovery, the revelations that my mental gymnastics can uncover.

Treasure the journey.

The Means frequently have very little in common with the Ends. In fact, the less similarity or logical extension the Ends share with the Means, the more interesting and intriguing they are to study.

Open Pandora’s box and run!
Who cares to stick around while everyone rushes to put the lid back on. Knowledge and discovery are the timeless gift.

For me.
My point.