Warrior

Taking sibling rivalry to a whole new level.

    It's a movie. About a winner-take-all ($5 million) mixed martial arts tournament. Watch it. Not into violence, ladies? Two of the fighters are brothers, each with their own reasons to fight, and they share a father who's a recovering alcoholic, so there's plenty of drama for you to feed off of. I don't care who you are, you need to watch this movie. I laughed, I considered getting a little teary, and I even put my hands up to my mouth like a little girl does when she's not sure whether there's a mound of candy or a bear trap in that bag her parents put in front of her. I mean, did you hear the clunk it made?

     I took a risk in that simile, but I know it's slightly off. If I figure out how to explain that it's more of a car-rolling-up-and-it's-either-Dad-or-a-kidnapper-from-Taken thing while maintaining a certain fluidity to the passage, I'll change this post.

     Now put the 2011 Action Drama masterpiece of Warrior into your Blockbuster or Netflix queue, or watch it right now if you're particularly technologically savvy. On the other hand, if you're so much of a savage that you need to drive to the nearest blockbuster to get the movie, I won't think less of you this time.

     Happy Solstice, merry Christmas, happy Hanukkah, happy Kwanzaa, and happy New Year.

A Second Blog?

I'm thinking about creating a second blog. See, I've found that almost everything I've written recently has wanted  to be about controversial topics (my essays have personalities, don't yours?), like religion or ethnic minorities' effects on America. Stuff like that. I didn't want to write about religion in this blog (the educational, graded one), because it's impossible to debate, but I need to write about it. So, dear reader, I need your advice. If you've made a second blog, is it worth it? I'm not going to ask for your approval of the subject matter, because the point of controversy is you don't get to control the other opinions. Deal with it.

Thanks for your answers!

I'll Show YOU Risky Business...

     Risk is always present in our lives. Always. It is pretty obvious that every action has consequences good and bad, and thus it's apparent that every action involves risk. Think about Freakonomics, since we've all read it. There are incentives to every action, a  reward that would make it worth doing. It only makes sense that there are negative results of the actions that happen as well. Also note that both "positive" and "negative" incentives are not often guaranteed, and that's where risk comes in.
     Every time we make a choice in life, it's after some consideration of whether the possible benefits outweigh the possible undesirable consequences (These considerations are usually hasty or short-sighted, but that's not what I'm gonna talk about. Sorry; just keep it in mind, I guess. Meditate on it.). We make a surprising amount of choices every day, so we're almost always calculating risk. For instance:

Choice: Should I format my title the same way I format my acknowledgement of sexual innuendos?
Incentive: It'll be funny to me and anyone that's heard me use a similar joke, especially because it's going on Cardona's blog.
Risk: If no one's heard it, the joke will fall on deaf ears. Also, I may get in trouble.

So, to mix things up a little, I DARE you to think of an action that doesn't involve incentives or risk and put it in the comments so I can prove you wrong. Or severely edit my post.

What's so funny?

An example of ridiculousness. Note
that the caption's incredibly formal
tone is ridiculous in itself.

     We all have ideas of what is funny. Some people like slapstick, some people like wit, and some people like other kinds of humor I'm too lazy to copy off Wikipedia. But what matters is that every form of humor is based on nonsense and ridiculousness. This is called the Incongruity Theory. In short, we only perceive things to be funny because they don't make sense or they surprise us by challenging the norm. Think about it. Tom and Jerry? Every time Tom is crushed by a piano, you don't expect him to end up like an accordion only to pop back into shape after a second. And need I mention the dead baby jokes?

     So, if humor is funny because it's nonsensical, why are nonsensical things funny?

     Because they make us feel uncomfortable.

     Laughing is a defense mechanism used to relieve the laugher of some discomfort. The perfect example of laughter's use is as a response to tickling. When so many nerve endings are stimulated at once, it is physically uncomfortable. The brain forces us to laugh to divert our attention from this unpleasant feeling. The exact same phenomenon can be seen when we are surprised by a joke's punchline. The brain would prefer to laugh off the uneasiness than let us stand around babbling in disbelief. This is why there's a moment before anyone laughs after the joke, when the brain makes the connection, and decides to laugh off the awkwardness.

     For example: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iRZ2Sh5-XuM

     I've developed my sense of humor by cutting the fat of  one-liners and acting purely nonsensical. It works, but before you go around trying to be funny by shouting nonsense, realize that being nonsensical is an art, and it requires practice. A few tips:
     1. Relate to the situation; branch off of it rather than going on an opposite or irrelevant topic. If you're in a dog park, don't talk about an airplane unless a dog's flying it.
     2. Different voices can help, just don't make them too obnoxious. Same goes for dances.
     3. Share this special kind of humor with close friends, so it's not too awkward if a joke goes wrong.

My Musical Stockpile

     Between my bedroom door and my desk, I have a corner reserved for my collection of musical instruments. I've placed them edge-to-edge to save space, but they still extend a good three and a half feet from my wall. In my collection, I have three saxophones, a fake saxophone, and a trombone. I don't just have all of these for fun (maybe a little, more on that later), but rather I keep each for a specific purpose.
     First my Vito Alto Saxophone. This is THE recommended saxophone for anyone that decides to take band for their required middle school music course, the perfect saxophone for someone that has about a 50/50 chance of continuing band pass ninth grade. Some people are content with playing a Vito all through high school, but luckily, I don't have to.
     Next, I have my pride and joy, the Selmer Super Action 80 Series II Alto Saxophone. I am the pied piper with this bad boy/girl. Yep, he/she's a boy/girl. It's custom to name one's instrument (usually only if you're a tad off, like I am), and I plan to once inspiration strikes. I'm certain I'll spend less time naming my firstborn son than I will my saxophone. I am the Pied Pier with this horn; its tone is so sonorous, so silky smooth, like Dove chocolate. I can turn three simple notes into the most longing, melancholy tune ever heard.I love my Selmer Super Action Series II Alto Saxophone, and I'm sure it loves me, too.
     Behind my saxophones and closest to the door (as it's my newest arrival) I have a tenor saxophone, on loan from the school. Since I've been drafted into the Blue Jazz Ensemble to play the second tenor (with the GODLY Thomas Strommen), this saxophone is very nice, it has a nice sound if not a little more brash than my Selmer.
     Sitting in the corner and receiving much less use (than my saxophones and than I'd like) is my trombone. I wanted to expand my musical skills past a very exclusive class of woodwinds, and I thought the trombone would the most different instrument I could get my hands on for a reasonable price. I was right. There is literally nothing similar between saxophones and trombones, and I'm still working on buzzing, using the slide to correct pitch, and even reading music (bass clef is kinda stupid).
     I also have a few instruments for fun. I have a "Chinese bamboo saxophone" ad well as a few of what I call noisemakers. On his way to a meeting whit a factory manager, my dad was ambushed in China by a "saxophone" salesman, who convinced him that a bamboo "saxophone" belonged in my collection. I am very grateful for the gift, but, as you can tell by the quotation marks, it's not really a saxophone. It's more of a recorder with a reed, and I had figured I was done with recorders after fifth grade. Also, I have yet to play a song on the bamboo; I can't figure out if I need an incredibly loose jaw or a very tight one. Finally, I have three "instruments" capable of playing only one note each, a conch shell, a cow horn (think Native American war horn) and a vuvuzela. These are plain novelties, and I almost never play them at the request of my family.
   
If I think of a nice sounding ending I'll put it here.
Love, Ryan.