The Beauty of Sarcasm

Here is a story about a Mexican fisherman; classic chain-email material. It's a story with a great ending. What's just as great is a reply from one of the readers immediately after.

Link here

And the pasted text here:

An investment banker was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna.

The banker complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.

The Mexican replied, "Only a little while."

The banker then asked why didn't he stay out longer and catch more fish?

The Mexican said he had enough to support his family's immediate needs.

The banker then asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?"

What Matters Most? (aside from bad & cliched stock images?)

The Mexican fisherman said, "I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siestas with my wife, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine, and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life."

The investor scoffed, "I am an Ivy League MBA and could help you. You should spend more time fishing and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat. With the proceeds from the bigger boat, you could buy several boats, and eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. "

The investor continued, "And instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would then sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing, and distribution! You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then Los Angeles and eventually New York City, where you will run your expanding enterprise."

The Mexican fisherman asked, "But how long will this all take?"

To which the banker replied, "Perhaps 15 to 20 years."

"But what then?" asked the Mexican.

The banker laughed and said, "That's the best part. When the time is right you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You would make millions!"

"Millions. Okay, then what?" wondered the Mexican.

To which the investment banker replied, "Then you would retire. You could move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siestas with your wife, and stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos."



[And the reply....]

Matthew Gonzalez:

Ohmigod. I never knew how happy I was being dirt poor! Thank you, intenseexperiences.com, for showing me how exciting and fulfilling a life of destitute poverty can really be! Truly, you have shown me the way.

~

A Work In Progress

 I am sorry.

 

Sorry that I have failed to live up to your expectations.

 

Sorry that despite your efforts in molding me and scolding me and guiding me and deriding me, the projection of your energies have been in vain.

 

Sorry that at the age of 24, going on 25, I have yet to attain what you seek of me.

 

I won’t pretend to be the dream you sought when you made me in an act of love. I am not a personification of perfection. I am not a divine creation. I am not Galatea. And you are not Pygmalion.*

 

I am not a building you can tear down and rebuild from scratch. I am not an immaculate statue given life. I am here; I have been born, and I have been made. Now it is time for me to make myself.

 

In the process of that remaking, I may be scratched and scarred; knocked down and showed up; played out and pushed in. I may thrive or fail. I may find an easy path. Or learn the hard way.

 

What can I say? I was not born complete. I was born of flesh and blood and intention. Or perhaps inattention. Perhaps an accident. Either way, I was born of you.

 

I came forth with your flaws, and to make things more interesting, I brought my own.

 

I am a wanderer finding my way.

 

I am a dreamer finding my dream.

 

I am flawed despite your efforts.

 

I am a work in progress, and I do not know when the work will be done.

 

Perhaps it never will.

 ~ ~

 

*Galatea was an ivory statue made by the sculptor Pygmalion, and given life through his prayer to the gods. He built her as an ideal woman, one who would rise above all others – a paragon of  perfection. In many ways, that is how we make children. We create them in an act of love and believe with all our hearts that they are just as we dreamt. But even dreams take time to come true. And sometimes they never do.

-

It Erases All Traces Of Your Life!

Hello, folks. This post could potentially damage my career, or not, depending on whether this thing even gets read at all. I have exactly 6 followers - that's more than one hand; woohoo! - but then again, I know quite a few people who stalk bloggers silently and invisibly. So.

Anti-Aging Products. Ladies, who wants to talk about their age? No? Honestly? Ma'am, you may look 30 but let's not kid ourselves. GETTING OLD IS WRONG! It is not enough to have healthy skin. Let's get real. Let's get immortalised, cryogenised, sanitised and Botoxised. Who knew you could look like a Photoshop image minus the toxins? Well Now You Can!

According to a recent advertorial (This Just In!) "The passing of time is every woman’s worst enemy." No shit, Sherlock. Ain't the passing of time every mortal's worst enemy? Do you wanna die? I don't. But the point is this: the ad ain't just telling you to make yourself happy by having fewer lines - if that rocks your boat, by all means. No, the ad is telling you that Aging Is Now Your Worst Enemy even if it wasn't five minutes before. Is that hammered into your pathetic geriatric skull yet? Good! Now we can sell you some creams.

A certain accomplished Asian celebrity has already been sold. Sold and bought. For copious amounts of money (hell, why not?) to spout lines that aren't hers about why W.A.W.: Wrinkles Are Wrong. She goes on to talk, in authentic-looking quote marks, about a miracle product or two that allows you ladies to be just as radiant if not as wealthy as her. Because wealth, fame, talent and a trim booty just ain't worth a crap without 20-year-old skin.

Here's some trivia. I found out about two years ago that it is perfectly legal to have brand ambassadors say whatever you want them to in printed materials (or situations where the actual ambassador is not present) without them ever having said it. "SHITE. You mean my dentist didn't really say those things about the toothbrush I've been using for five years?" Guess you'll have to ask him in person eh?

Of course, I shouldn't be saying this. I'm in bloody advertising. But here's what I do love about advertising: giving people ways to feel good. I enjoy getting into people's minds, finding out what they want, what they need from a brand. (Is it manipulative? Perhaps. Come on; if you hated it, you wouldn't buy it. Don't look at me that way.) What I don't enjoy is telling people that This is Wrong and This is Right. "What you thought of as annoying but natural is, in fact, Bollocks!"

But what's even sadder is that thousands of readers are gonna eat it up. If not consciously, then in the back of their minds that already worry about how they no longer look like they left school yesterday. Hmm. Not exactly a mood-lifter. But why lift your mood when you can lift your face?

A face unlined is a life unlived. And now there are products that will eliminate the evidence. To wipe out all traces of what I have been through is like a kick in the head. A facial concussion that denies you ever laughed, cried, made love, sang, smoked pot, baked in the sun, went crazy at a rock show, nicked your chin in a friendly fight.

What will it take to make a change? Well, if we can simultaneously and collectively ignore all calls to look younger and instead look great - two things that should not be confused - I think the world might actually tilt on its axis a little bit. Y'know, from the weight of women NOT reaching for the nearest miracle anti-aging cream. Or the card with Dr Botox's number on it.

Now at this point, some smart-ass will point out that for all my ideals, I just breached some serious ethics by speaking against brands that we are helping to endorse. But look; it's marketing. Marketing is about getting people to buy, think or react. Success depends on the reaction of the consumer. Am I committing a crime of contradiction? Or am I reacting as a consumer?

But heck. Who am I to talk, you ask! I turn 25 this November. By the time I reach my 40th November, I might be singing a different tune. But for now, here's something from Mark Twain - a dead guy who lived well.

"Life is short. Break the rules, forgive quickly, kiss slowly, laugh uncontrollably, and
never regret anything that makes you smile."



~ ~ ~

Scars are evidence that you have fought, and lived.
Serpent 5:11



_

For want of grace

Read the above. I've just discovered the title to my life as a movie.

I was inspired by the humorous pictures and captions in an article titled "19 Awkward Signs for Common Moments." Especially when I realised that yes, I relate too much to these. As in most of these.

You can take a moment to scroll through this awesome Cracked piece I'm talking about so we can lol together (I'm a bit --OK, a lot-- of a Cracked addict) ....

http://www.cracked.com/article_19188_19-warnings-signs-common-awkward-moments.html




Done?

My awkwardness used to make me cringe. It used to make me want to bury myself alive. I mean it. Hand me a shovel and some ground that wasn't cement, and see what I try to do.

But naturally, wisdom (that comes with the old age of 24) tells me I should cringe less and laugh at myself more. Hellyes. I love my inner sage.

I was a clumsy child, now I'm an awkward adult. If the world can learn to live with me, we will all be happier. If it can't, I will be a bit lonelier. But hopefully lonely with a sense of style.


Speaking of style, there was a complaint recently that I should dress a little more professionally.

...

....

.....Ya think?





~ ~ ~

Don't just say grace at mealtime; pray for it. That you may move smoothly to dessert without ruining your favourite shirt.
~Serpent 2:26



_

Take what you can.

The serpent munches on Cheezels, her favourite teatime sin. Her new skin hums a happy tune under the leather jacket it will shortly shed. She looks to heaven and thinks maybe it will give her a shot.

What if it doesn't? Well, there is always today. And today should be enjoyed.

She has learnt not to take things for granted.

Just for now, all is right with the world. Shades of smoke and purple adorn her contemplative eyelids.

I must stop this talking in third person, she thinks. It sounds so godawfully egotistic.

And lock away the Cheezels for now. The steroids they pumped you with in the hospital already made your face a wee bit tubby. If you continue, the gods may punish you for making fun of fat people by making you one of them. A tubby serpent is somewhat of an aberration, considering don't eat my cows whole but rather in medium-rare cuts.

Then again, the favours of gods are random at best. Sometimes you win and sometimes...

Sometimes, you just have to enjoy what you can.

Jai guru deva om.



~

The World Needs Guts

Stand up for what you believe in. Learn to say yes. Learn to say no. Learn to be stupid. Learn to be brave. Make crazy your normal. Make normal an option (not a must).

Put some steel in your spine. Put some spine in your stance. Grow some balls (even if you're a woman). Walk with one foot in the clouds. Walk like you're dancing. Dance like no one's watching. Be eccentric. Be bold. Be brave. Live without apology.

Live honestly.

- - -

...it is better to be sincere than silent.

Serpent 6:67