To be more specific, I'm relearning these things about myself, only correctly this time.
I hope you get so far into this piece without figuring out what the heck the title's about.
Assumptions
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| Zachary Kanin, The New Yorker |
And yet every day, I assume, and I'm not sorry for it. As much as I love it, the quote fails to relay the fact that assuming works almost all of the time (if you're looking for the numbers to support that, google "hyperbole").
I'm going on loads of tangents, so hang with me.
One of the most powerful elements of language is connotation. Ever wonder why there are so many words that mean the same thing? Oftentimes it's because each word carries a different connotation with it.
For those who may recognize the word, but not the meaning, "connotation" is the non-literal, emotional attachment that a word carries with it. It's the difference between being "youthful" and "juvenile." If someone were described as "youthful," they're depicted as being innocent, energetic and fun; there's a charm to "youthful." If the same person were described as "juvenile," the polar opposite image would be created -- an image of immaturity and failing socially as a person in a way that a troublesome child would. However, literally speaking, the words mean exactly the same thing: showing traits of a younger person.
So back to my point on assumptions: the word "assume" itself carries a negative connotation, or more correctly, it's earned its negative connotation. Assuming often leads to trouble and misunderstandings, and that's what we remember.
What we fail to remember is the times when assumptions worked in our favor. When you deeply understand something, you inherently should start assuming some things in relation to it.
To give an example, I live with two dogs right now. Every couple of hours, they need to go to the bathroom. If I fail to take them outside and realize the fact five hours later, I assume they've had an accident somewhere in the house, so I begin looking for crime scenes and treading the apartment cautiously -- taking extra care not to place my foot in a puddle.
Assumptions are good. They save us time, heartache, irritation, etc. There's an interesting dynamic that it plays in relationships, too.
Assuming in Personal Relationships
**In other words, when I talk with these select people, I speak without regard for whether or not they misconstrue what I say as something more aggressive than I intend. I can openly express my thoughts in their raw, unrefined state.
**I almost deleted this section, but since we're on this topic, I figured I'd explain why; this is something that I hope Extra Pulp OJ reflects:
When I write for you, I make it a priority to stay genuine. If I write something and it sounds phony, it goes out the window. I delete a lot of sentences that are crafted too perfectly -- no one can relate to that. I believe there has to be a better way that I can explain this thought, but in this case, I'll allow it.
I believe it's incredibly important to have these types of relationships, too. We as humans cannot possibly achieve a higher level of understanding in any area without a vulnerable dialogue, and these are the people we'll have these dialogues with.
I know, I'm getting preachy, I'll truck through this section.
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| Unearthed Comics |
Do we need to have this type of relationship with ourselves?
I have no idea. I claim to know and believe a lot, but I don't here. I do have this relationship with myself, though.
I haven't always, and this kind of [obviously] ties in with my last piece. Lately I've pushed my boundaries in a lot of media-indulging areas of my life. I have conversations now with people who don't immediately interest me, and I watch television and listen to music that I initially wrote off.
Before I did these things, I lived many contradictions. When any one of my beliefs were challenged, I defended them instead of allowing a challenging dialogue to happen.
I know this sounds incredibly general. I need it to because what I'm about to talk about is so much more shallow than the life-altering choices I made with this philosophy. That's another post for another time; possibly not for here.
Anyway, here's the title.
I Like Slice of Life
...but for a long time, I believed that I didn't.
The concept of a slice of life show contradicted so many things that I found I valued in a story. A slice of life show, by definition, is a show about nothing spectacular. It's a show that mimics the minutiae in life, and I understood that I couldn't possibly find that interesting.
I saw a lot wrong with the genre, and unfortunately, I assumed that I didn't like it based on this viewpoint. Again, I don't believe that I was wrong to make this assumption (even if it was wrong), the blame instead falls on my persistence to stay ignorant. But can you blame me? If I listed off some of my favorite television shows, I think you could make the same case:
I like Steins;Gate, a drama and tragedy that asks questions of morality and what makes an experience carry weight; Scrubs, a touching comedy focusing on the specific hardships tied to balancing life and relationships with an overwhelming work life -- I could give you an innumerable list of shows that seemingly prove that I valued things that slice-of-life couldn't possibly offer me.
And yet, I never considered a favorite show of mine -- one that shaped my taste of comedy:
I very recently realized that Seinfeld may be the epitome of a slice-of-life show. I mean, the point is made in the most meta of fashion in an episode of the show.
As I type this, I can't believe I never realized it. It's a brilliant show, and it's one that I felt has never been replicated. Though it seems contradictory, I still believe that. How many other show about nothing have surpassed 180 episodes? Regardless, the broad idea isn't unique [any longer].
Seinfeld does however mimic a very important set of experiences that we have throughout our lives. To bring up a previous point, we should have relationships where we remove filters and disregard social standards in order to grow, and though it may handle these relationships in a purposefully crass way, Seinfeld does offer the viewer a look into other people constantly having these vulnerable dialogues.
Every single one of us starts out ignorant, and that makes these conversations and experiences messy. We as humans are initially wrong (and inherently evil) so often. Whether it's because we're tied to our own experiences, or that we were raised in a specific culture -- statistically we're going to be wrong a lot more often than we're right. (Rather, we'll never fully understand anything completely without being introduced to the ideas in a consumable way.)
deep breath
By the finale of Seinfeld, the audience realizes the cast of characters were really terrible people. Though that may be viewed as a concept that eventually led to the "unlikable protagonist" phenomenon that our culture is obsessed with (examples: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Arrested Development, our obsession with the Joker, Breaking Bad, Deadpool, the list is huge), I confidently believe that wasn't the intention. The characters were designed to reflect the nastiness inside of us.
Again, connotations. It's okay to be ignorant at first, and it's also okay to have nasty bits in yourself if you're bringing them to light and dealing with them (we're inherently evil, not doomed to be so).
The cast of Seinfeld is shocking at times. They express ideas and act out mundane plots that would be despicable in real life, but I think we can all relate to that. Luckily, most of us were set straight privately before it got to that point [publicly].
This is a concept that I believe can only be represented in a mundane setting. Perhaps it's different for other people, but I personally am very cautious when it comes to accepting seemingly unnecessary change. I find myself pumping the brakes when an alternate to a system that already works for me is suggested.
This isn't an epic tale either, it's in the basic, daily decisions I make. I can immediately think of a handful of times where a new idea has been brought to a group and I've been the only one to ask the "why change?" questions. I first ask "What has caused our current situation to work as well as it has?" and questions similar to it. I think there's value in consistency, and I live by a couple of philosophies that challenge change for the sake of change (ie. "Don't fix it if it isn't broken").
Seinfeld shows instances where this frame of thought fails -- where the obvious is placed before the characters, and they stay fast in their original thought. I missed the value of the genre because I was stubborn in the same way the characters in the show were, and refused to accept it.
The concept of a slice of life show contradicted so many things that I found I valued in a story. A slice of life show, by definition, is a show about nothing spectacular. It's a show that mimics the minutiae in life, and I understood that I couldn't possibly find that interesting.
I saw a lot wrong with the genre, and unfortunately, I assumed that I didn't like it based on this viewpoint. Again, I don't believe that I was wrong to make this assumption (even if it was wrong), the blame instead falls on my persistence to stay ignorant. But can you blame me? If I listed off some of my favorite television shows, I think you could make the same case:
I like Steins;Gate, a drama and tragedy that asks questions of morality and what makes an experience carry weight; Scrubs, a touching comedy focusing on the specific hardships tied to balancing life and relationships with an overwhelming work life -- I could give you an innumerable list of shows that seemingly prove that I valued things that slice-of-life couldn't possibly offer me.
And yet, I never considered a favorite show of mine -- one that shaped my taste of comedy:
I very recently realized that Seinfeld may be the epitome of a slice-of-life show. I mean, the point is made in the most meta of fashion in an episode of the show.
 |
| Owlturd |
Seinfeld does however mimic a very important set of experiences that we have throughout our lives. To bring up a previous point, we should have relationships where we remove filters and disregard social standards in order to grow, and though it may handle these relationships in a purposefully crass way, Seinfeld does offer the viewer a look into other people constantly having these vulnerable dialogues.
Every single one of us starts out ignorant, and that makes these conversations and experiences messy. We as humans are initially wrong (and inherently evil) so often. Whether it's because we're tied to our own experiences, or that we were raised in a specific culture -- statistically we're going to be wrong a lot more often than we're right. (Rather, we'll never fully understand anything completely without being introduced to the ideas in a consumable way.)
deep breath
By the finale of Seinfeld, the audience realizes the cast of characters were really terrible people. Though that may be viewed as a concept that eventually led to the "unlikable protagonist" phenomenon that our culture is obsessed with (examples: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Arrested Development, our obsession with the Joker, Breaking Bad, Deadpool, the list is huge), I confidently believe that wasn't the intention. The characters were designed to reflect the nastiness inside of us.
Again, connotations. It's okay to be ignorant at first, and it's also okay to have nasty bits in yourself if you're bringing them to light and dealing with them (we're inherently evil, not doomed to be so).
The cast of Seinfeld is shocking at times. They express ideas and act out mundane plots that would be despicable in real life, but I think we can all relate to that. Luckily, most of us were set straight privately before it got to that point [publicly].
This is a concept that I believe can only be represented in a mundane setting. Perhaps it's different for other people, but I personally am very cautious when it comes to accepting seemingly unnecessary change. I find myself pumping the brakes when an alternate to a system that already works for me is suggested.
This isn't an epic tale either, it's in the basic, daily decisions I make. I can immediately think of a handful of times where a new idea has been brought to a group and I've been the only one to ask the "why change?" questions. I first ask "What has caused our current situation to work as well as it has?" and questions similar to it. I think there's value in consistency, and I live by a couple of philosophies that challenge change for the sake of change (ie. "Don't fix it if it isn't broken").
Seinfeld shows instances where this frame of thought fails -- where the obvious is placed before the characters, and they stay fast in their original thought. I missed the value of the genre because I was stubborn in the same way the characters in the show were, and refused to accept it.
What Are We Living?
As I've said before, I don't know if broadening horizons and expanding your tastes is objectively good or bad -- there's plenty to value in assumptions and leaning on what you already know -- but I think that being narrow-minded is bad.
I lived this hypocrisy for a long time (that I didn't like Slice of Life, despite adoring Seinfeld). It was too specific and under-examined to ever be questioned, and yet I regret that it wasn't. I've put my foot in my mouth on this subject so often that I'm legitimately afraid to admit my hypocrisy to my peers.
Coming to this conclusion wasn't as quick as I've made it seem, either. In fact, I put the "Seinfeld is a slice-of-life" pieces together after I had already understood the value I find in the genre. It was a process, where I justified "this", and made an exception for "that" before finally, I understood that I was denying something that I loved.
I said earlier that I'd go on a lot of tangents, and this is far from my cleanest piece, but they are my raw thoughts.
Final Note: I've had a lot of trouble getting these #XPOJ pieces to come together lately. My mind has felt chaotic and impossible to organize. Everything I'm writing seems to envelope an incredible number of things, and I seem unable to explain that depth coherently.
Mostly, I'm just unsatisfied with how my deep understanding of specific things comes out as unorganized ramblings. My mind feels like one of those "detective's crazy walls" where everything is so interconnected that I can't properly express one idea without fully explaining the intricacies of another which relies on separate knowledge of it's own.
It's as hard to explain as that is to read.
So anyway, I am deeply sorry if you get lost in this piece! I feel like I wrote it lost.
And yet, I think even that has value. I think someone could possible read this and connect with it on a level only a messy work can reach.
I lived this hypocrisy for a long time (that I didn't like Slice of Life, despite adoring Seinfeld). It was too specific and under-examined to ever be questioned, and yet I regret that it wasn't. I've put my foot in my mouth on this subject so often that I'm legitimately afraid to admit my hypocrisy to my peers.
Coming to this conclusion wasn't as quick as I've made it seem, either. In fact, I put the "Seinfeld is a slice-of-life" pieces together after I had already understood the value I find in the genre. It was a process, where I justified "this", and made an exception for "that" before finally, I understood that I was denying something that I loved.
I said earlier that I'd go on a lot of tangents, and this is far from my cleanest piece, but they are my raw thoughts.
- I think it's okay to assume things, it just sucks when your assumptions are wrong.
- Connotations are going to affect you communication whether you realize it or not. I would hope that you're mindful, and forgiving of them.
- I still believe everyone should talk about their opinions with someone they trust -- even weak opinions. You need it.
- I constantly reevaluate my stance on things. That may cause me to appear unable to take a solid stance; I haven't figured out how to deal with that yet.
- Seinfeld is a great show, and it's somehow more meaningful than the masses realize.
Thanks for reading, guys. I hope you enjoyed this glass.
Final Note: I've had a lot of trouble getting these #XPOJ pieces to come together lately. My mind has felt chaotic and impossible to organize. Everything I'm writing seems to envelope an incredible number of things, and I seem unable to explain that depth coherently.
Mostly, I'm just unsatisfied with how my deep understanding of specific things comes out as unorganized ramblings. My mind feels like one of those "detective's crazy walls" where everything is so interconnected that I can't properly express one idea without fully explaining the intricacies of another which relies on separate knowledge of it's own.
It's as hard to explain as that is to read.
So anyway, I am deeply sorry if you get lost in this piece! I feel like I wrote it lost.
And yet, I think even that has value. I think someone could possible read this and connect with it on a level only a messy work can reach.
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