Friday Free for all #49: Tech, annoyed, coming, wish

The next in an ongoing series in which I answer random questions generated by a website, although it’s been on hiatus since the Christmas Countdown began. Here, I resume with this week’s questions. Feel free to give your own answers in the comments.

Which emerging technology are you most excited about?

Without a doubt, it would be CRISPR, which uses gene-editing in order to mitigate or cure serious diseases, many of them genetic. One way to think of it is that CRISPR functions as a pair of scissors that allows scientists to literally edit genes, and genomes.

It gets all kinds of sciency, but the short version is that this technology could one day achieve things like undoing genetic birth defects, curing inherited diseases, or even reverse aging by lengthening the telomeres on the end of our chromosomes.

What is something that is popular now that annoys you?

Influencers. Okay, not so much them per se, because I do find a lot of their videos entertaining. Rather, it’s their followers, who make the same mistake about this particular media that all the rest of us, when we were that young, did about whatever was the prominent media of our time.

I.E. that these people are our friends and care one bit about us.

Nope. They only exist to turn you into product for whatever corporate overlords they’re shilling for. It was the same when your parents were hanging on everything that (corporate) MTV VJs said and they geeked out over how “edgy” all the (corporate) videos were, or when your grandparents totally ate up rock and roll as it was sold to them via… ta-da… corporations like radio stations (the streaming service of the day) as well as corporate shills like Ed Sullivan, who was the old man influencer who brought the Beatles and the Rolling Stones to the U.S.

Even your great-grandparents wound up listening to all the big bands and singers who were radio approved during WW II, and probably also performed overseas, but only in government sanctioned USO shows.

See a pattern there? If you’re under 25 and it’s getting shoved in your face through tech, it’s probably an illusion created by your corporate overlords. I mean, after all, how is it otherwise possible for some just-turned-18 dude with no apparent day job to buy a warehouse, or for a 27-year-old-douche to be able to own properties in L.A. and Florida and to capriciously buy and destroy multiple vehicles, a Tesla among them?

I won’t mention any names, but if you know, you know.

What are you looking forward to in the coming months?

This question has been in the queue for a while. BTS clip: I’ve compiled a list of 42 questions from the website in question and use a pair of random number generators to reorder them, then give a suggestion, although I don’t always take the first suggestion. It’s a combination of random and mood.

This question kept getting suggested all through 2020, and I kept ignoring it because my answer was, “Hell if I know.” Now it’s 2021, and I finally have an answer. Well, two.

On the grander scale, I’m hoping that in the coming months the U.S. can fix the terrible mistakes of the last four years, as well as get us to a point where we’ve dealt enough with this plague to be able to return to some sort of normalcy.

Now, I have no illusions that live theatre, or indoor restaurants, or large public gatherings will be a thing before late 2021 or early 2022. But what I do hope is that every single negative change made by the previous administration is quickly undone by the current one.

Bring back protections for the environment and various marginalized classes of people. Resume agreements meant to protect the climate and wildlife. Ban drilling on protected lands. Then go further. Move away from fossil fuels and toward renewables, work on raising the minimum wage, providing a universal basic income, adjusting the tax structure so that the wealthy pay more than their fair share and the working poor pay next to nothing, and provide universal health care, student loan forgiveness and a reform of that whole corrupt system, then reform policing by reallocating fund so that police departments have mental health professionals and social workers to send out on cases more appropriate to them, leading to fewer young POC because the only police response they got was a knee on the ncek.

Oh… and statehood for DC, Puerto Rico, and the Virgin Islands, abolishing the Electoral College, increasing the number of Senators per state and making those numbers proportional, increasing the ability of people to vote early and by mail, pushing for a national system of redistricting via algorithm instead of partisan committee to kill Gerrymandering, and kick it all off with ending the Senate filibuster.

Somewhere along the way, either pack the fuck out of the Supreme Court, increasing its size to thirteen members to match the number of Federal Circuit Courts plus one presiding judge, or create a separate Constitutional Court and limit the jurisdiction of the Supreme Court.

Pauses to breathe. Okay. Did I forget anything?

My personal goals for the coming months are much simpler. I’ve suddenly come into circumstances where I will soon be able to have a dog in my life again, so that’s on my radar for somewhere around May. And that will make everything better again, whether or not everything in the first part of this entry happens.

Although almost everything in the first part of this entry damn well better happen before late 2022.

What do you really wish you knew when you were younger?

The same thing that everybody should know: Everyone else is just as insecure and scared, so you might as well be the bold one who does not give a single fuck. Be outspoken. Be ballsy. People will follow.

Just look at the history of pop stars over the ages. Which ones became enduring icons? The ones who said “fuck it” and marched to the beat of their own drummer.

David Bowie, anyone? He was a gender-bender from Mars from the beginning. Parents hated him and called him a freak. By the time he died, he was one of the most respected artists in the world. Q.V. Liberace and Elton John — flamboyant queens from two very different eras, but both went on to be ridiculously rich and famous.

This even includes the ones who maybe later went down in scandals, i.e. Boy George and George Michael.

If you don’t stand out from the crowd, you’ll never stand out, and there’s the lesson. Actually the lesson is this one: Never fear standing out from the crowd, because the more different you make yourself while being confidant in your difference, the more you’ll make everyone else want to follow.

Key word: Be confident in your difference. Announce loudly and proudly, “This is who I am,” and then just fucking be you.

Friday Free-for-all #20

In which I answer a random question generated by a website. Here’s this week’s question Feel free to give your own answers in the comments.

When was the last time you climbed a tree?

I don’t remember any times distinctly as an adult, although there must have been a few times in my 20s, but I do remember the last time I climbed the tree in the backyard of my parents’ house. Well, not the specific date or anything, but the general details.

I was fifteen, in high school, and had been climbing this tree since I’d been tall enough to jump up and grab the lowest strong branch. The trick was to grab this one, swing my legs up to grab it as well, then turn myself around until I was sitting on it.

From there, a couple more branches formed easy steps, and then it was a matter of finding the footholds up toward the top, which was a nice crow’s nest surrounded by foliage, about forty feet up.

The funny thing, too, was that all of the good climby parts were on the southwest part of the tree. On the north, the branches were too thin, and on the east the good ones didn’t start until too high because that was the side that grew against the wall that separated our house from the neighbors the next street over.

Part of the reason I loved to climb that tree, which was the biggest one in the yard, was the challenge of it, and I remember that it took a few years to progressively figure out and/or be brave enough to go up another level. Physical size and strength also had something to do with it.

Once I got up there, there wasn’t much of a view, since it was in the middle of a suburban housing tract made up of about four different floor plans — two single-story and two two-story — which were made to appear to be more variations by virtue of having a mirror-image of each. There were also minor differences, particularly window style and little things like that.

So the view, even from the top of the tree, was pretty much my parent’s roof, the roof of the house across the street, and the trees behind it looking west, more of the same looking east, and nothing but trees and hedges looking north and south.

But it wasn’t about the view. It was a place I could go that my parents couldn’t, somewhere I could hang out and just think and enjoy being surrounded by nature.

It was also the only climbable tree we had. The only other tree in the backyard was a plum tree my parents had planted when I was a late tween, and it was still basically a sapling even by the time I moved on to college. Likewise, the one tree in front of our house on the strip between the sidewalk and street was a plum tree and, while it had been planted when the place had been built decades earlier, plum trees just really aren’t climber friendly.

The last year that I climbed the tree in our backyard, in fact, was the same year that our next door neighbors planted their Christmas tree on the south side of their front yard, so another not-climbable thing. Twenty years later is a different story — that thing grew into a monster to rival my favorite tree in height and girth, although not in climability.

Oh, I’ve never tried, but the thing basically turned into a thick trunk and a giant primary branch that grew out of it like an arm and elbow. Maybe a good place to jump up to and sit, but otherwise like trying to climb a fat lamppost.

My favorite tree was a birch, by the way, and the last time I climbed it was one day when I was fifteen. It may have even been a while at that point since I had climbed it, but I jumped up, grabbed that faithful first branch and then swung my legs up and held on.

I made it a few more rungs up, and then hung upside-down to a higher branch I didn’t usually use to climb, but I was experimenting. This one was probably about twelve feet up, and didn’t have any branches below it.

I hung onto this one, totally trusting “my” tree and then heard a loud crack. Then I felt the fall and I swear to this day that while the trip down in reality probably took no more than two seconds, in my mind it lasted at least a minute, if not more.

I remember my distinct thoughts. “Oh fuck. I’m falling.” And then “I’m going to wind up dead under this branch and what if no one finds me?” The world really went into slow motion, and I swear that I could feel the breeze in my hair, watch the tree above me slowly recede, and then… thump.

I was lying on the ground with a large but not heavy branch on top of me, and I stayed there for a while until I realized, “Okay, I’m not dead.”

Then I went inside and left my tree-climbing days behind me. What? I had to focus on something just as risky and stupid — playing keyboards in a band, of course.