Wherein I Attack the Word “Blessed”

January 26, 2014 by J. Nelson

Excessive use has reduced the word to a good-for-nothing air kiss.

I’m blessed, you’re blessed, she’s blessed, those kids are blessed, the Seattle Seahawks are blessed, blessed-blessed-blessed! Since when did so many people start benefitting from divine intervention? When did “luck” morph into into a Vatican Press Office buzzword? Don’t get me wrong, it’s perfectly fine to cram the annoyance of an entire Christmas letter into a single word, but could you do it with this one a little less often?

And while we’re at it, for the love of all things peaceful and plain, don’t ever throw it at me as a projection of good things to come. Don’t use “Blessings!” as a goodbye salutation. Nothing makes you sound less employable.

Yeah yeah, it’s just terrific as hell that gratitude has gotten fashionable, but isn’t gratitude supposed to be shown, rather than flaunted? We’re supposed to give thanks, not blab thanks.

Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present without giving it – yes, I have heard that one. But while some small dogs are cute, the ones that bark in order to be paid attention to are more or less the worst creatures on earth. And way too many people use the word “blessed” as an excuse to ~~announce~~ bark their personal status. Read more

Ever George Washington Bridge Someone?

January 12, 2014 by J. Nelson

Have YOU ever deliberately “inconvenienced” co-workers or enemies?

A mayor declined to endorse his state’s governor during an election, so the governor’s top aides ordered a shutdown of lanes on a heavily used bridge. Delivery, maintenance, and fire trucks, as well as school buses, ambulances, and commuters, were mired in gridlock for days, causing outrage, scandal, and backlash. The perpetrators, who joked about the resulting chaos in emails, have since been found out. Check your local internet.

So what are your excuses for inconveniencing adversaries on purpose?

Oh, come on. Payback? You’ve never done that? No, I don’t mean shut down a bridge – I mean, impeded someone intentionally. Haven’t you ever waited to send your print job to the office copier until right when a co-worker needs it to prep for a meeting? Ever put off booking your boss’s flight ’til only middle seats at the back of the plane were available? How about crankin’ the thermostat? If any of this sounds familiar, you’ve George Washington Bridged someone. (Now let’s abbreviate that down to “you’ve GWB’d some fool,” or “you pulled a GWB.”) Read more

Dumping Toxic People vs. Loser Management

January 6, 2014 by J. Nelson

Dumping all the so-called “toxic” people in your life is an excuse.

In line for coffee the other day I overheard a woman urging her two companions to rid themselves of all the “toxic” people in their lives. It sounded like a New Year’s resolution conversation had collided with an annoying friend story, but who knows and who cares?

She was off and running, listing relatively intimate evidence that proved a certain friend was a “guilt trip assassin.” This person had to go, she reasoned. And the relief and freedom she’d soon be experiencing by taking action would no doubt be something her two companions would want to get in on. Of this she sounded sure, if vulnerably so.

Now, maybe it was the hand gestures, the loud-talking, or the sequined fedora, but this young lady sounded like a mosquito in my ear canal. Following a life-coach testimonial with gossip as your example of why Friend X should be dismissed only demonstrates your poor coping skills.

Get rid of the toxic people in your life? What, you have a list? And you’re gonna push the button on all of ’em? Have any idea how much demented resolve that takes? I’ve seen it done on prison yards, but never in coffee shops.

Besides, what monsters are we talking about? Psychic hostages? Emotional cripples? Abusers? Followers? Manipulators? Martyrs? Excluders? Stalkers? Downers? Demanders?

Making Better Bad Decisions

December 31, 2013 by J. Nelson

There are many excuses for failed NYE resolutions. These are mine.

Resolution: Get more rest. I can’t afford a Tempur-Pedic® TEMPUR-Topper (but why so stupid a name?), which would make spending eight hours on my bed much easier, but in the face of a 2007 study by British psychologist Richard Wiseman, this excuse falls short. A tired brain is more susceptible to temptation, Wiseman found, making the value of a night’s rest a serious priority with regards to willpower. Problem is, willpower and one’s ability to control impulses are located in the prefrontal cortex, just behind the forehead, and I’ve bashed that in enough to qualify for some of that NFL money. The “better bad decision”? Hello! Discount foam!

Resolution: Lose weight. I need to lose about 15 pounds, but with everything I’ve learned about myself and the (same) 15 pounds I needed to lose last year, hell, I’m going into this with such an advantage that I might not even have to modify my food choices. But just in case, I’ve got a fallback position. It’s a “better bad decision” to eat a few dozen less of the things I love, so I’ll just buy ’em every other time I’m at the grocery store. Lesson learned: self awareness isn’t enough. Read more

Affluenza: Ass-Backward Social Conditioning

December 17, 2013 by J. Nelson

As a trapped society are we now chewing off our own leg to survive?

Amidst the dumbing down and de-waging of America, are we now also agreeing that if a child is raised in a household where excuses are the norm, this in itself is insurance from liability? Holy crap! Are there no limits to the a-hole ethics and diminished expectations we’ll sign off on?

Whatever your answer, we’re probably still going to be arguing about this five years from now, so get used to the term “affluenza.”

Welcome to Where Excuses Go to Die’s 2013 Excuse of the Year.

After killing four people, Ethan Couch –a lethally spoiled 16-year-old drunk driver– got off essentially scot-free: not because he’s rich, but because of complications resulting from wealth. What complications? Well, for starters, mom and dad never taught him right from wrong. Also, being raised in a monstrously overprivileged environment provided freedoms that Ethan’s child brain was incapable of processing. Unsupervised access to disposable income and empty luxury homes didn’t help, as they conditioned Ethan to remain separate from his peers, i.e. immune to the lessons learned in moral training grounds teenagers tend to create for themselves. The kicker, far as I see it, is that, as a child, Ethan learned if you hurt someone you sent them money. Read more

Cops and Cathedrals – Part I

December 8, 2013 by J. Nelson

For me, really embracing Detroit means being a wreckage dork first

I’m in Detroit this week and have assorted free days to leave the safe confines of my host’s Grosse Pointe neighborhood for Mad Max Island, aka downtown.

I’m sitting at a table with coffee now, preparing for the 21º weather and listening to police scanner feeds covering Wayne County, which itself is like sticking my hand into a bucket of ice water before it’s poured over my head.

Off Waverly Street, a policewoman reports, a fight between two women has just ended with one holding the other’s hand in a car door and breaking it. A suicidal man is offering to kill himself, but through police observations from across the street, he has a severely autistic adult in tow who is resolutely unwilling to step away.

“Daughter is threatening mother with a gun over a check” crackles over the air, followed by an officer in another location answering a call involving “a group of people” attempting to “force their way into a home” where workers are inside. Aside from that literal siege, a mile away, an actual home invasion is announced as being “in progress.” Read more

What’s a Mitzvah?

November 24, 2013 by J. Nelson 2 Comments

Performing a kind act solely because you’re in a position to do so

I don’t know many Hebrew words, but Mitzvah is one of my *favorites. Technically, it means “commandment,” but it also goes by the above definition, which is how it was broken down for me. I think about the word often ‘cause I’m almost always in a place in life where my right-now resources are relatively rich. Yet shedding comparisons, quieting the noise, ditching conditions, excuses, and all those countless words I’d use to describe my otherwise good intentions only leaves “because I can.” So, “help that person because you can” has become a personal commandment.

Right. Well, nobody wants to hear about how I threw a dollar at a homeless dude as I exited Breakfast Coma Café, so don’t worry, that’s not where this is going. You probably don’t really care what I do; more relevant is how one can be coerced into developing character. Read more

“Hi, I used to rob bookstores.”

November 17, 2013 by J. Nelson

Even with that opener, some indie authors have it worse than I do.

I get a lot of questions about what it’s been like to bring my story to market. I hear a lot of gripes from writers about agents, the traditional publishing industry, and whether or not the stigma of self publishing has decreased with our digital all-access passes.

Being congratulated on publishing a book is cool, though what I hear is, “Congratulations on not being a talker” and “Congratulations on learning what follow-through means.” You see, having come as far as just getting the thing out there is a big deal for me, because for too many years I was incapable of establishing and maintaining a relationship with delayed gratification. Today, I feel it’s important to be a resource for other aspiring authors who are navigating the many choices, pitfalls, and publishing models now available. The following opinions are based on my experience. To some in publishing, they’ll probably show what little I know about the very journey I’m on, but others may find ’em helpful.

Life’s Simpler Things: Salvation or Swindle?

October 28, 2013 by J. Nelson

We all have excuses for ignoring the simple things. Here are mine:

Here’s part one of an ongoing series in which our rationale for taking life’s simplicities for granted are admitted to – and mocked.

Sometimes, stopping to smell the roses is boring.

Let’s face it, some of life’s simpler things are real snooze-fests. Take nature watching, for example, or going for a walk. I’ve never been one to just up and stroll around aimlessly. I mean, I enjoy walking, but it makes a lot more sense to me when there’s a destination. Also, I like to look like I have a destination. It’s all good to get into your head, appreciate your surroundings, sit on a bench, or listen to birds, but I’d rather get something out of it, like the clarity needed to make hard decisions or work through tough problems. Call me tightly wound, but a mental payoff is required.

In the rare times I find myself walking on a beach, I always pick a point and head toward it. That way, on the return trip, I can at least relish a building sense of accomplishment and follow-through. I don’t need to stop and smell every rose or stand in awe beneath every majestic tree. I’m walkin’ here: they aren’t exactly whizzing by.

Breaking the Narcissist Richter Scale

October 20, 2013 by J. Nelson 2 Comments

Goofing on cosmetic surgery martyrdom and Justin Bieber’s toolface

If I look like Justin Bieber, I’ll live like Justin Bieber, goes the thinking of a sick, dumb animal.

When humans are psychologically backed against a wall, they often do silly things reminiscent of the crazed stumble of mad cow disease. Narcissism is like mad cow, in that infected animals’ brains and spinal cords get wonky after eating too much of themselves.

At 33 years-old, “songwriter” Toby Sheldon is one such sick, dumb animal, thanks to his diseased missteps in pursuing the surgeried likeness of Justin Bieber’s pout. He may not have succeeded in turning his mug into a copy of The Bieber’s, but he has broken the Narcissist Richter Scale and become this month’s poster boy for GET CHARACTER OR BECOME ONE.

Perhaps it’s unfair for me to pick on one of God’s mixed up creatures, one whose likely next move is stumbling in a circle until it dies. But God commanded me to write this blog, and I can’t be blamed for self-poisoning narcissists who shudder, shake, and stagger madly before my oncoming truck.

Maybe the rule of thumb should be that, if you’re such a delusional cosmetic surgery pigeon that becoming a laughing stock is a minor consequence, you should be entitled to special insurance coverage or perhaps your own island residency. I favor the island, a zero-liability environment where you can immolate yourself with a can of gas, invent a chainsaw radio, or stagger delusionally off a cliff, all free from the legal or social judgments of others.