Archive for January, 2008
The Art of the Insult
Jan 31st
I’ll come back to this after some reflection, but for a quick end-of-the-week read, here is a piece of brilliantly pointed writing from Slate.com’s review of Meet the Spartans:
Isn’t it massive consumer fraud to charge $10.50 for a barely hour-long movie? Perhaps, but it would’ve been unforgivable to make Meet the Spartans any longer than an hour. This was the worst movie I’ve ever seen, so bad that I hesitate to label it a “movie” and thus reflect shame upon the entire medium of film. Friedberg and Seltzer do not practice the same craft as P.T. Anderson, David Cronenberg, Michael Bay, Kevin Costner, the Zucker Brothers, the Wayans Brothers, Uwe Boll, any dad who takes shaky home movies on a camping trip, or a bear who turns on a video camera by accident while trying to eat it. They are not filmmakers. They are evildoers, charlatans, symbols of Western civilization’s decline under the weight of too many pop culture references.
Feel free to weigh in with why you think this is (or is not) good (or funny) criticism. (I love the line about the bear.) I’ll come back to this theme later…
[tags]Ike Pigott, Occam’s RazR, Meet the Spartans, movies, movie reviews, writing, criticism[/tags]
Three Essences of Writing
Jan 31st
Good writing sometimes happens by accident — but writing well is a function of discipline and purpose. Know what you want to say, know what you don’t want to say, and get there with minimum delay.
My Kung Fu background introduced me to a conscious outlook: that every person exists in three realms, the physical, mental, and spiritual. I say “conscious” outlook because deep down I already felt that way, just never expressed it as such. Our connection to those realms involves the three parts of our person: body, mind, and spirit. Perhaps no single spiritual or religious tradition can “own” that thought, as it exists in so many cultures and histories.
Extending the notion to the process of writing, we have three planes of comparison, three axes by which we can measure improvement.
Physical writing: More than just the layout of the words on the page, the physical aspect of writing is revealed in the way it sounds as you were to read it. Short sentences set tone. Punctuation dictates. Rhyme, rhythm, and meter matter. Even unspoken, the visceral nature of the written word may echo in the mind of the reader.
Mental writing: Beyond mere words, this is the exercise of deciding which concepts must introduce your grand conceit – which ones bridge as evidence – and which ought to close the argument. The selection of individual words for both denotation and connotation is part of the mental realm.
Spiritual writing: Good writing informs, great writing elevates. Often, it does so through the use of analogy and metaphor. The introduction of a concept through the prior understanding of something else builds up the reader instead of tearing him down. 
It also stretches the most out of communication – like teaching a child about a parallelogram by showing a rectangle that leans.
Good writing stands out. Great writing sneaks up on you; it makes you smarter and wiser, it inspires without calling attention to how. Great writing pleases the ear, the brain, and the soul.
(Thanks to Rich Becker for the post that got me thinking…)
[tags]Ike Pigott, Occam’s RazR, writing, Kung Fu, language[/tags]
I’m no longer a blogger
Jan 30th
I’ve had it. I’m done. Don’t want to deal with it any longer.
As of this day, I am no longer a blogger.
I’m tired of the hassles of “coming up with something for the blog.”
I’m tired of explaining to people what a “blog” is.
I’m tired of others jumping to conclusions about what I write, or how it should be written, or whether I should have comments, or a list of pretty blogroll links.
So today forward, I’m no longer blogging.
I am Isaac Pigott, but you can call me Ike. Lots of people do.
I am a communicator who likes to figure things out, and share what I’ve learned. Sometimes, that involves “writing.” But I am not a professional writer.
I will continue writing for a website called “Occam’s RazR”. Just for fun, I will also be the site administrator. But I will not be a “blogger.” Not sure what that word means anymore, because it either has no relevant context or too much baggage. I will also continue contributing regular essays over at a website called “Now Is Gone,” at least as long as they will have me. I may write about blogging sometimes, but I’m not a blogger. (I spend more of my day sending e-mails, but that doesn’t make me an eMailer now, does it?)
Because I am open to ideas and opinions, I will allow some of you to contribute to this website. You can comment on the various essays I write here. I will be happy to facilitate the publishing of most of them.
What I won’t do is continue using the word “blogger” as a noun. A “blogger” is a writer. Well, some are. The standard isn’t necessarily a high one. I also won’t use the word “blogger” as an adjective. “Blogger” ethics, “blogger” relations; most of the time, it is a useless modifier that either demeans, demotes, or lowers the expectations thereof. Like people with websites are somehow in need of a different set of ethics than anyone else. It’s a little condescending, if you ask me.
There. I feel better. I hope that clears away any lingering expectations you might have as to what this website is, who I am, or why I write.
[tags]Ike Pigott, Occam’s RazR, blogging, writing, communication, language[/tags]
Social Media Power Suit
Jan 29th
“Social Media is like a power suit: either get it tailored just for you, or look like everyone else who bought off the rack.”
(from a post at Now Is Gone)
Wal-Mart’s Vision
Jan 28th
I didn’t set out to become a customer service benchmark. It’s just the product of being a consumer with a blog.
Those of you with glasses might know the name of those little oval pads that rest on each side of your nose. I’m too tired to look them up. But I needed one on Sunday, because one of those little pads tore completely free, rendering my glasses quite painful. I managed to get it back on long enough to make the drive to Wal-Mart, which was going to be my best bet on a Sunday afternoon.
I was surprised to see the Vision Center open on a Sunday, and gravitated there instead of the pharmacy section. The woman manning the desk didn’t notice me until I got right up to the counter. I pointed to the empty rack where the oval pads would be, and noted that the tiny circular pads would not fit my glasses.
She asked to see them, and I handed them over. Maybe out of reflex, she peeled the straggling pad off the hook and tossed it into the trash. She walked back into an office, rendering me blind for a couple of minutes. It dawned on me that if there were no compatible pads in the store, I would be in for a challenge getting home.
She came back with new pads installed, and refused to allow me to pay for them. “You needed those, and we didn’t have them in stock,” she said. “Don’t tell anyone, I don’t think I was supposed to do that.”
She fixed my glasses, and refused to charge me for that. Did I mention that I didn’t get my glasses at that vision center? I might just get my next ones there, though…
Wal-Mart? Are you listening? Promise me she won’t get into trouble!
[tags]Ike Pigott, Occam’s RazR, Wal-Mart, marketing, customer service, eyecare[/tags]