Seriously Joking

 

Humor has always played a role in my life. My father always said I was smart...a smart aleck. Ever since I was young, I would always be cracking jokes. My pursuit for comedic enjoyment also led to countless points of amusement in my life. As several of my tales have shown, I have a knack for getting caught up in misadventures and hijinks due to my decision making. This is due to my attitude that I should not take myself so seriously. Whether it is blasting Hilary Duff, figuring out how to escape from handcuffs, and sending get well cards to hypochondriacs; my antics to amuse myself are numerous. But my constant comedy also serves a purpose. It is a very centering endeavor. Anxiety and apprehension have a way of dissipating when laughter arises. In my mind, I always form laugh inducing scenarios to calm myself in moments of tension. From public speaking, to melee skirmishes with other humans, to fleeing angry mobs, and of course awkward attempts at romance, my joke formulations have prevented panic attacks. This habit led me to try my hand at stand up comedy:

 

My efforts are sophomoric at best but the results were very enlightening. Being on stage attempting to tell jokes was very rewarding no matter what the outcome. It reminded me directly of my martial art activities. Comedy was simply another craft that I was trying to cultivate through practice. Though vastly unskilled at both, I realize the importance of constant practice at both. The more I did stand up, the more comfortable I became and it proved to be quite a rewarding task. My growth at the skill became a more important goal than simple success. On the jokes themselves, the more I inspected at the catalyst for my humor, the greater the realization that comedy was all around me. Anything in life can indeed be made into comedy. This made me even more comfortable with my state of mind. Even in situation where my world view can seem quite bleak. Where doom and despair seem to be what should be on my mind. I am slowly but surely building a comedy fueled flashlight that pierces the darkness. Especially on the day to day grind that life can become. For me, life is such a short epoch of time and my own existence is so miniscule that I cannot help but laugh about it. Others can easily call my outlook on life, crazy. However for me, I am very serious and steadfast in my belief that I will always be joking. No matter what. Hope my life induces laughter to you as well, dear reader. 

The Path to Mastery

The growth of skill is a rather deceiving one. It is not constant or linear at all. Instead it is a series of plateaus that coincide into an asymptote. The more well-versed one is in a skill, than the harder it is to improve. Quite simply, it is hard to get good at something. True masters have realized the secret to getting better. Failure and lots of it. Specifically failing forward, the act of not letting negative aspects hinder one's process. This makes sense logically. Similar to how pressure either crushes a rock into smithereens or transfigures it into a diamond. It is how one reacts to the pressure of failure that dictates how one will progress in life. Because without risk, then there is no reward. It is the simple binary nature of life. There is eustress and distress powering every situation. If there was no strikeout would a homerun be as rewarding? On a grander scale, the same is true with wins and losses. OK, all things one should be aware of, there are countless stories of people overcoming adversity. Tales of Albert Einstein struggling in school and Michael Jordan being cut from his high school team. However both these tales proved to be fictional. Einstein actually performed quite admirably at school and in reality Jordan was only demoted to the junior varsity team his sophomore year. Rather small things and people might argue that the tales lose their allure due to truth. I instead argue the opposite. The significance of these tales is in fact the insignificance of them. There was no movie moment that led to Einstein and Jordan's success, they simply went out and did it. Despite the regular drag of life. They sought out the path of mastery. So back to the original question, why is mastery so elusive. Let us examine exhibit 1:


Situated above is the video of my first Mixed-Martial-Arts fight. I lost. Post fight I heard all the right things, knew that I had to move on and not linger. It resonated and was something that I knew was right. How much of a difference did this make? Well personally, I was still emotionally devastated. It truly hurts. Not in the physical sense but a loss takes its toll mentally. I wanted to win with every fiber of my being. To come short dealt a very harsh blow to my enormous ego. It is not easy. Watching this fight still haunts me and will probably do so until the day I pass. However the adage, "When you lose, don't lose the lesson." This rings very true with my scenario. I understood before hand that failure is a possibility going into any competition. To feel it first hand is a completely different feeling than simply knowing. Though still affected today, I move forward on the path. Because I refuse to let my past dictate my future. Will I succeed? That is unknown. Will I fail again? Maybe so. But none of that matters to me. Because I do not pursue comfort in this life. What I am after is truth. Do I have what it takes to become a master? I truly do not know. One thing I do know is that I will not allow myself to let uncertainty stop me. My struggle as real as it is to me is rather insignificant in the grand scheme of the universe. I do not let this get me down, rather it empowers me. Despite being a mere speck in this world, I intend to live my limited speck life to the fullest. Here's to you reader and whatever path you are on.

She Probably Needed to Be Sedated

The story begins when there was a science project assignment during my middle school years. For the aforementioned assignment, one was to construct a poster with the topic being one of the elements from the periodic table. Our goal was to then present the element akin to how a salesmen presents a product. I recall my teacher stated "Sell the sizzle, not the steak." Years later, I still have no idea what he meant by that. I ended up showing up to presentation day with no poster to show for. When I got called up to present, I thought fast and grabbed a random poster from the pile of submissions. As a preface, I was student body president at my middle school, so I was well versed at lying in front of peers and staff members. Sold so much sizzle on that poster that I got full marks for the project. Until the end of the day rolled around and another kid happened to present the same poster. Then came an issue of priority controversy, with me at first coming out on top. I ended up fessing up so I landed in detention.
So in my state of scholastic confinement, I was tasked with the menial activity of writing an essay outlining the faults that led me to this point. A riveting exercise I assure you. At the conclusion of detention, one was to then share what one wrote with the fellow adolescent troublemakers. It was incredibly exciting, I assure you. About as exciting as the prospect of headbutting a desk repeatedly until unconsciousness gratefully took me away. Which is almost what transpired amidst listening to my delinquent peers stumbling through their essays much akin to a car with no wheels traveling a dirt road. That is until a most exotic juvenile troublemaker took center classroom.
She rocked neon green hair, a scowl, and an acoustic guitar. Most of all, her aura was overpoweringly full of swagger. I was not the only one to take notice. All eyes were glued to Punk Girl (PG) as she stared down at the floor and tuned her guitar. Then she coughed slightly, took a deep breath as she strummed a note, and then belted out profanity riddled rant against public education. All the while her fingers concocted an equally powerful sound that blended into a perfect storm of anger and aggression. Her performance was punctuated by her exiting stage left and leaving the stunned audience' mouths' agape as she strode out while firing a double barreled middle finger salute.

Anyone with a brain stem could tell that girl was trouble. So of course, I sought her out immediately as detention commenced. Like a moth traveling to flame. This moth found his flame at the bus stop smoking a joint and playing Joan Jett's "Bad Reputation." Her attention turned to me as I walked up to her.
With my presence known, I said "Hey, I like your style." She brushed off a bang as she responded,
"I like the way you represent the student body." Touche. Thus our companionship began.
Our time together was a short one. And it ended predictably in a rather violent fashion. It was at one of PG's planned performances at small cafe. I was watching in the audience when my vision was abruptly blocked by another viewer. I asked him politely to move. He refused and dropped some rather inflammatory comments. I took matters into my own hand, socked him hard in the face, dragged him out of the venue, and walked back to my viewing spot. All eyes were on me as I returned. PG looked at me angrier than usual (which is saying something) and then threw her electric guitar at me as she screamed, "That was my brother!"
Needless to say, I did not see much of her again. The bruise from the instrument turned projectile healed but her mark was already made. So the moral of today's story is do all of the work on your homework assignments.

Making a Difference

There are over 7 billion (and counting) people on this tiny planet, nestled in a single star solar system, that occupies a mere speck of the Milky Way galaxy. It is rather easy to feel very small amidst the large scheme of the universe. However to feel such despair is not a worthwhile endeavor. Because such thinking negates action. Life is defined by Merriam-Webster dictionary as "an organismic state characterized by capacity for metabolism, growth, reaction to stimuli, and reproduction." Note the reaction to stimuli portion of the definition. With no stimulus there is no life. Back to the fear of not feeling important in this world, consider nature. Does the bird question why it sings, does the dog wonder why it runs, does the ant ponder why it works? In the perception of these creatures, these inquiries do not take form.
However as seemingly sentient beings, humans can indeed suffer from the thought  of what purpose they serve. Not too recently, I came face to face with this dilemma myself. Specifically on this blog itself and what I serve to accomplish. Doubt crept into my mind akin to an assassin in an unfortunate target's abode. In my case, my motivation to write was skillfully snuffed out by my thoughts. To the tune of "What do I know? Does anyone care? I am not that good a writer anyway, so why bother?" Thankfully after much deliberation, I came to the conclusion that none of those questions matter. What is vital to my continued task of electronic typewriting consists only of my own wanting and doing. Am I setting out to make a difference? Not really, I am merely pursuing my passion for perfecting the craft of transcribing thoughts. This thinking really sets me at ease. These words are here because I wish for them to be. Likewise dear reader, you gaze at these sentences because hopefully you wish to do so as well. And really that is all I could hope for. Thank you everyone for your time. You all have certainly made a considerable difference in my life. I am sure you will all go the distance in your respective pursuits. Do not get flustered, keep going, I am pulling for you.

In the Prescence of Giants

I am very blessed to be surrounded by a plethora of amazing individuals. People of Wizard-like ability with knowledge as if they existed from the Future. Some are Mouse-like in stature but are Mighty nonetheless. Their bodies are Speedy in nature and Solid in constitution. To the public eye, they may appear to be Psycho, Angry, or filled with Rage. But from my time with them, I know that though they as fierce as a Dragon, compassion lies in their hearts as well. For even one known as Mankill is known to care for feline companions.
These characters stand out to me in my life because they represent what is possible and what is still to come. When life gets me down, I look above to see individuals who used to be in my position and the lofty laurels they posses. An understanding occurs to me that despite the long road ahead, I do not walk alone.

Upon my reading of Mastery by Robert Greene, the book's look on apprenticeship really resonated with me. For this new knowledge allowed me to gaze at my life and realize the giants all around me. This provided both comfort and prodding to my mind. Though the road to mastery is winding and confusing, life has situated myself with guides who traverse a road similar to mine. And from this viewpoint, I encounter that in every aspect of my life there are giants. Especially to those who read these very words. I might appear to have knowledge but actually know little. For in the illuminating world of knowledge, I am still blind and merely feeling my way out. I heartily thank you dear reader for being a fellow traveler on my journey. Though the quote is often brought back to Issac Newton, Bernard of Chartres made the metaphor that one is able to see further by standing on the shoulders of giants. Here's to you for being a giant in your own way.

Smeckledorfed by the Bait and Switch

Back in the day when I was even younger and more naive than I am now, there was a girl that I was romantically interested in. Lo and behold, one evening the aforementioned girl invited me to an outing at the movie theater. This invitation set my heart aflutter with the fury of 10 thousand butterflies. Before that fateful event, I had been at wit's end on how to approach her and now this opportunity happened to just fall on my lap. So I dropped my initial plans to peruse my local comic book shop and instead set out to movie cinema center. Upon arrival at the theater, I then bide my time at the lobby. While awaiting the movie showtime, I received notice from the girl that she had invited friends as well. This flew quickly over my head. Quite frankly I did not care if she brought a barrel of monkeys with her, I was just going to concentrate on her regardless. So with my blinders firmly in place, I barely acknowledged the friend that did arrive. I muttered a greeting to the other girl and went back to killing time. The feature presentation would soon be playing, yet there was no sign of the girl that invited me who will now be known as Bait. The other girl, let's call her Switch, and myself made our way into the theater and our seats. I made sure to leave in between the two of us for Bait. As the previews rolled by, in my mind I was at the movies by myself. My solitary reverie was broken by Switch whispering to me. She informed me that Bait unfortunately could not make it tonight due to last minute happenings. My heart fell faster than Krillin in any meaningful battle in Dragonball Z. Switch then closed the gap between us physically by occupying the seat next to mine. I on the other hand lengthened the gap between us figuratively and for the rest of the evening my dialogue consisted of one word sentences and grunts. At the show's end, Switch and I parted ways, briefly before that though she invited me to go bowling at a later date. Honestly I would rather hammer myself in the groin before going bowling. I murmured "Maybe" before I went off into the night very disappointed.
After a week of putting that failed outing well out of my mind, I got an invitation from Bait to go bowling. Like a moth flying straight into flame, I responded that I would love to go bowling. I had been looking forward to watching a marathon of Gundam Wing episodes but dropped those plans. Once again, Bait did not show up and my only companion for the night was Switch.

Once again not the desired result that I wanted. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. So I set out to talk to Bait one-on-one. I invited her to the park and we messed around with a soccer ball. While we were kicking it, I told Bait straight up that I liked her. In an M. Night Shyamalan twist, Bait revealed that Switch liked me so she had been attempting to play matchmaker. I was shell shocked. After our talk, my psyche was shattered. I then proceeded to be a mature person by proceeding to never communicate with either Bait or Switch again. Moral of the story from my opinion is that I should have been honest from the start about my intentions.

The Paintbrush of Warriors

A peer of mine once asked me where was the art in fighting, what warranted the word art to follow martial. My peer noted fighting had a simple end goal, to win, so a fight boiled down to merely executing the proper moves to win. This question bothered me greatly. It stewed in my head for quite a time as I grappled with how to convey the beauty of martial arts. To me beauty is the quality to be so intrinsically in-tune with nature that it transcends the mere space and time it occupies. Do musicians merely manufacture notes to induce listening? Does a painter simply scribe on a canvas for others to view? I argue that such is not the case. Instead I present the case that martial arts such as any art requires the heart and soul to be the driving factor. It is not mere movements that drive an artist but rather an entire metaphysical wave sent from the universe. When I myself partake in the martial arts, despite whatever adversity I might encounter, I feel not only my body moving freely but my mind is soaring as well. The sensation of practicing it is so aesthetically aligned with my being that the euphoria is mesmerizing. Those who have ever felt one with any art can attest to how amazingly in sync with reality one can be. My thoughts are still juvenile, my writing still infantile, so I still do no justice to how truly the martial arts affect me. I will say that it is an art form and will continue to make stride to prove my statement true.

The Dunning-Kruger effect in fighting aka "Just punch 'em in the face"

As a result of my passion for martial arts, I find myself a frequent observer of live Mixed-Martial-Arts events. Without fail, there are always martial art experts there that shout golden bit of knowledge such "Stand up and fight like a man!" and "Use the muay Thai!" While I appreciate the enthusiasm of these fans that they wish to impart their wisdom, their words are rather futile. It would be similar for me viewing a basketball event whilst screaming "Put the ball in the basket!" or "Get the ball from that end of the court to the other!" I would be correct fundamentally in my endeavored goading but I am sure the players on the court could easily do the actions without my support.
What I mean to highlight though in my observation of this phenomenon is that it is a clear example of the Dunning-Krueger effect. According to Wikipedia, "the DK effect is a cognitive bias in which unskilled individuals suffer from illusory superiority, mistakenly rating their ability much higher than average. This bias is attributed to a metacognitive inability of the unskilled to recognize their mistakes." Essentially, because of one's inexperience in a particular area of study, one does not realize the actual difficulty of that field. Let's consider that one could view a cooking show on television. The dish looks appetizing and delicious so one sets out to emulate the TV chef's work. However upon practical approach, one realizes that what appears simple to an expert is actually quite a layered and complex task. So I do not fault the audience martial art experts. They simply do not know how wrong they are and that it is quite difficult to accomplish any muay Thai techniques on the ground. That is why I propose the idea of a new organization called the AFC or Armchair Fighter Challenge. In this organization, loudmouth audience members could do battle with each other. So all parties at play could see exactly how easy it is to stand up and fight like a man. That's all for today. Now if you excuse me, I am about to attend a cricket match equipped with my sign that states "Hit the ball thingy with the paddle thingy."

Welcome to the School of Hard Knocks

Ever had a rather poor decision turn into one of the big turning points of your life? Here's a little story of how a proposed street scuffle turned into the discovery of one of the most important stomping grounds of my life.
The tale begins with my run in with a rowdy Australian exchange student. I am not sure what exactly is up with Oceania that causes its citizens to have such an established disposition to fight but it was clearly present in this young man. He wanted to "Break my face" over an unknown matter at the time. Hindsight is 20/20 and looking back on the whole incident; I can deem it stemmed with the Aussie's affection for a girl in our class. The man from a land down under clearly saw me as a rival for the girl's attention. Honestly, I just happened to sit next to the girl. Much more important things occupied my mind such as video games and comic books.

My lackadaisical attitude did little to cool Aussie's temper towards me. He made constant unveiled threats toward me during lunch. I was more concentrated on playing Pokemon but got the gist of what he was saying in-between my battles with unending streams of Zubats in a cave. The Aussie student said he knew Mixed-Martial-Arts and his mastery of these skills would enable to easily crush. Tired of his pointless banter, I agreed to fight him after school so he could let me train my Pokemon in peace. Fast forward to the end of the school day, I walked over to our proposed battleground, only to find no opponent waiting for me. I loitered for 15 minutes before taking off. Searching through my memory, I recounted the name of the martial arts academy that Aussie trained at. A fight was agreed upon and I intended to make it happen, so I trekked to the parking lot of the martial arts academy. The building was closed at the moment, so I waited until an instructor came strolling to the entrance. Noticing my presence, the instructor asked if I was there to check out the place. I stated that I pretty much was and scoped the place out. Then I decided to sign up for an orientation class the next day so I could get the drop on Crocodile Dundee Jr. Tomorrow rolled around and I partook in the orientation. I found myself fascinated in the technique that was presented. Another day passed and I eagerly participated in the classes at the martial arts academy. Throughout the week, I did not see my Australian schoolmate. However I did become hooked into educating myself in the ways of the martial arts. Days turned into weeks and then eventually months. I completely forgot about my scheduled scrap with the international student. So now many years later, I apologize to you, Mr. Aussie. We never did get to fight back then. I take full responsibility. Thank you though for telling me about the martial arts academy and MMA. Plus I still want to take you up on your challenge if you are still available. Take care now.   

Spidey's Web of Influence

Image courtesy of Marvel

Disclaimer: Spider-Man is a registered trademark of Marvel. I stand to make no monetary value from this content

Spider-Man has always been one of my favorite superheroes. My initial encounter with the webbed wonder was through the TV show, which led me to the comics and eventually a deep appreciation of the medium as a whole. However the arachnid hero has always stood out from the pack. It is hard to relate to Superman and Batman. One is an alien with nearly godlike ability while the other is a billionaire with limitless resources.Even in the Marvel universe, Thor is literally a god, Iron Man is a high flying playboy, and Captain America is a super soldier. Despite this stiff competition from his peers, the wallcrawling do-gooder is by far the flagship character of Marvel. Not bad for a nerd from Queens. Let's explore what makes webhead stand out:

• Origin: OK, picture that you are an awkward adolescent who is suddenly vested with enormous power. Do you go out and fight evil for the good of mankind? Or do you attempt to see what your new gifts can do you for maybe more selfish purposes? Give a teen a sports car, you can expect a joy ride to happen. So it is no surprise that social pariah, Peter Parker, before donning his alter ego, looked to cash in on his newly found talents. A pretty realistic thing that one would expect of a high school student. But then, life deals a harsh lesson to the young man with great power through the loss of his beloved uncle. Given a state of clarity via this tragedy, a boy became a man who learned never to shrink from responsibility. Spider-Man reminds the reader that the life of a hero is not living above society but rather taking society to new heights.
• Everyday life: Let us run through the Marvel gallery of heroes and their day jobs. When he is not Iron Man, Tony Stark is a freaking billionaire. Thor's mortal guise of Donal Blake is a doctor. Captain America once again is a super soldier who is backed by the US government. Hell, even the X-Men live in a mansion. What does Peter Parker do? He's newspaper photographer. And his boss absolutely despises Spider-Man and would wish nothing more than see the hero go down in majestic flames. When not living with his aunt, Spider-Man has occupied several crappy apartments in New York City. Spider-Man's humble living standards makes him accessible to common everyman.
• Superhero antics: My favorite thing about Spider-Man is his constant stream of comedic one-liners even in the most dire of situations.
  
  
  
  
  So for all these reasons and many more, make Spider-Man a staying point of my life. Until next time true believers. Excelsior.

Where is home

The picture above is the sleepy town of my youth, Marikina, my home along the river. This image alone evokes emotion from my memory. Plus it causes me to consider the idiom, "Home is where the heart is." A simple phrase at first glance but what exactly makes up one's heart and where is it located? Does the heart reside in the past? From where one has been? Is love merely constructed from the time and experience one spends in an area? As my mind drifts on this it wanders into time itself. What of the present, the area where I currently am located. Does my presence at this current spot make it my home? But with logic, that cannot be right. Because the present soon becomes the past. So my gaze sets sight to the future. My heart will continue to wander this plane of existence as it continues to beat. And inside my heart will reside the people and places that I hold dear. So no matter what the time or distance my journey takes me. I can rest assure that this tiny floating blue and green rock in the universe will be my home forevermore.  Thanks for joining me, housemates, until next time.

The reason for the journey

Every person is a traveler that is venturing on a journey known as life. Due to a meeting with several knowledgeable companions, I pondered what exactly I am pursuing on my journey. To settle this matter, I first figured what I do not wish to seek. Riches do not pop up on my immediate radar. Wealth for simply wealth's sake means little to me. Piles of shiny metal and pieces of paper with dead figureheads are only useful for exchanges. Then I considered if goals and outcomes were what I wanted in this life. However a goal is a rather fickle thing to pursue. Goals are merely the output of work. Then I realized what I truly wanted was questions. Because of my curiosity, questions captivate me to know end. Thus the reason for my journey is to seek questions. The first one that comes to mind is, "Who am I?" For my own purposes I will dictate my discoveries on this question on this blog. Join me if you wish.