Dog Daze

Thanks to all of you—all one of you—who responded to the Angry White Loner's latest post. He didn't receive any questions to base any future blog posts upon, so he supposes at this point that he'll just have to continue to come up with his own dithering ramblings about life, the universe, and everything for the time being.

The AWL has taken the past couple of weeks off from blogging—not because of the aforementioned fact of not getting any responses, but because he's needed some time to think. About a lot of things. It's been his longest gap between new posts since he began this blog a year-and-a-half ago.

It's the dog days of summer right now. I do not know if there is a specific timeframe to them. Personally, I consider it to fall somewhere between the end of Pioneer Day in July and Labor Day in early September. In other words, it's basically the entire month of August.

No offense intended to those of you who get excited for August, for whatever reason. But I just can't. It's my least favorite month of the year. The only good thing about it for me is that autumn is right around the corner.

I was all ready to post something new earlier this week, and then Robin Williams's suicide happened. I read the news online Monday evening, and I was crushed. Like many of you, I spent several days reading various blog posts and retrospectives about the life of one of the most unique talents we've ever seen.

I'll spare you my going into much more detail on the matter, because others have already done so and have done it well. If it affected you or caused you to think in any way, shape, or form, then I say: Congratulations. That means you're a member of the human race, and you give a darn. Whether or not you personally or someone close to you struggles with depression, substance abuse, or Parkinson's disease, then at least there is something of a desire inside you to want to understand and to help others who fight those battles.

It's one of the most important lessons we can learn here in this human experience.

Depression is not something that you just "get over," like a cold or measles or having your tonsils removed. It is something many people have to battle on a daily basis, and it can, at times, feel like a dark, bleak, and hopeless fight.

Nevertheless, there is hope, and there is healing. I had to learn this the hard way, but I'm glad that I know now that such a thing exists. I feel like I've said this before here on the Angry White Loner, but if you're dealing with depression and need someone to talk to or someone who will lend a listening ear, please count me in as one of those who will drop whatever he's doing to help. However I can.

Carpe diem, my friends.

How Does *He* Know?

I was listening to the old iPod the other day, shuffling through my playlist of Disney songs, when a familiar voice began to sing. It was the melodious voice of my favorite Disney princess, Giselle, played by Amy Adams—who hasn't really left the Church, ya know. She's just been inactive for past few decades.

Anyway, the song I refer to is "That's How You Know" from Enchanted. "Does he leave a little note to tell you you are on his mind?" she inquires. Does he "send you flowers when the sky is grey?" Or "does he take you out dancin' just so he can hold you close?" Or "dedicate a song with words in just for you?" "Don't treat her like a mind reader," she adds. Don't take her for granted!

All of these are valid and important questions in a relationship, Giselle and/or Amy. A man should do all of these things to let a woman know that he loves her, or else really really really likes her a lot, with chocolate syrup and a cherry on top.

Fair enough.

Generally speaking, though, men also tend to have a difficult time figuring out whether, after they've followed Giselle's advice and have done all of these things, or have at least attempted them, whether she loves him back, or even really really really likes him back.

This is partly due to the fact that women, often by their own admission: (1) tend to drop hints rather than to say directly what they are feeling or what they want, (2) can be driven by emotion more often than men are, and (3) can be confusing, as one tends to come from Mars, and the other from Venus. (Yes, ladies, I'm sure we're equally as confusing to you sometimes. Maybe more!)

Now, don't get all upset and write me nasty comments or e-mails. The Angry White Loner has said in the past that women are the world's biggest mystery, and he's just trying to figure out this part of their personalities right now. On this night, in this blog post. (No one person should take any of this personally.) He is actually looking for some practical advice, generally speaking, and is trying to foster a positive discussion on the topic, because his friends and readers, all six of them, give pretty good counsel. He would, in fact, welcome answers to any or all of the following questions:

Does she want to spend time with you, or is she just scared of being alone?

Does she see spending time with you as a priority or as an obligation?

Does she often claim to be "busy," or does she go out of her way to include you in her extracurricular plans?

Does she, you know, pretend like she acknowledges your existence out in public, and, if so, will she approach and/or talk to you when others are around? Are any and all dates carried out only when she's checked an re-checked the neighborhood for spies and gossipmongers?

Are you plan B, C, or D because her girlfriends happen to be busy that night?

Does she get excited for the next date because, just as Café Rio employees get excited on your 11th visit, a "Free Meal!" is coming?

Inquiring minds want to know.

Flippin' Heck

A little more than a week ago, nominees for the 2014 Academy Awards were announced. Unfortunately, in the Angry White Loner's humble opinion, Hollywood tends to get these things wrong far more often than it gets them right. Harrison Ford, for example, who was absolutely amazing in the role of Brooklyn Dodgers owner Branch Rickey, was completely robbed of a Best Supporting Actor nomination for 42. Tom Hanks, likewise, certainly deserved a Best Actor nomination for the title role in Captain Phillips, which is hands-down the best film of 2013. No Best Animated Feature nomination for Monsters University, either.

But still, the Angry White Loner pays attention to things like these. One of the categories that caught my eye was Best Adapted Screenplay, because one of the nominees was Terence Winter, who wrote The Wolf of Wall Street—a script that included a staggering total of 506 F-bombs over the course of a 179-minute movie, or about one F-bomb for each 20 seconds of screen time. That's not even mentioning the graphic sexual content, which I understand is explicit and frequent.

This is what Hollywood calls award-winning filmmaking.

I mentioned something to this effect on Facebook the day that the nominations came out. People, as they are wont to do, opined on the subject. While many tended to agree with me about the objectionable content, a few brought up the fact that people swear everywhere, and filmmaking that uses a great deal of swearing is "realistic" and simply a product of our culture.

You're a prude, I felt some of them were saying in essence. You're a Prudy McPrude Pants with a Prude Casserole, with Prude Sauce on Top, Served with a Tall Glass of Prude Juice. And Prude Cake for Dessert.

Even America's (or Canada's) "sweetheart," Justin Bieber, is now making a name for himself with the potty talk. At least, according to the transcript I saw on the news following his arrest last Thursday for drag racing and driving while intoxicated (with an expired license, to boot), every fourth or fifth word out of his mouth was reportedly an F-bomb.

Which is the kind of intelligent talk we've come to expect from a genius such as him by now.

Though cursing may be realistic, it doesn't mean I want to be around it. I believe that the words we choose to use do matter, and they reflect our minds and character. And I've been around all sorts of cursing. There are plenty of other things that actually happen in the real world every day that I don't want to be around, either.

Twerking, for example.

President Hinckley, I believe, summed things up very well in the April 2007 general conference:

"Be clean in your language. There is so much of filthy, sleazy talk these days. Failure to express yourself in language that is clean marks you as one whose vocabulary is extremely limited. . . . A filthy mind expresses itself in filthy and profane language. A clean mind expresses itself in language that is positive and uplifting and in deeds that bring happiness to the heart."

If following this counsel makes me a prude, then I'm proud to be one. Cursing not only offends the ears; it is the product of a filthy, lazy, uneducated, and impatient mind, too.

Or so I've been told. Now, it's Netflix time for me. I'm going to be watching "Christmas with the California Prudes."

The Condescension of Friends

As a follow-up to my last post, which was on the topic of bullies, today I'd like to address another form of bullying: condescension.

For those who may not be familiar with the term, condescension means, for lack of a better sentence or a simple definition: "I'm better than you, I'm smarter than you, and, doggone it, I'll go out of my way to point that out to you as often as I can, you moron."

Those who are condescending to you may not necessarily be smarter than you are, but they act like it regardless of that fact. Not surprisingly, when I conducted a Google search for images relating to the topic of condescension, several photos of President Barack Hussein Obama came up. I'm not kidding.

To back up their vast array of knowledge, the condescending trot out their college diplomas and say, "Look at this, stupid!"; they quote from a scholarly book no one has ever heard of except for them and their best friends, who happen to run MENSA; they reference a random class they once took a decade ago and were so immediately skilled at that the professor was fired, and they stepped up and began to teach; or they may even resort to name dropping about the famous folks or celebrities they pal around with.

The motto of the condescending person may as well be, as Dave Barry once wrote: "Everybody has their opinion, and yours is wrong."

Most people who fit the above description of the condescending person are not people whom I would want to be nor am I friends with. Naturally, these people should be avoided like the plague.

It's a much more subtle thing, however, when condescension appears in the form of your own circle of friends. These aren't people who necessarily maintain a friendship with you because of how well you get along or how much time you spend together currently but are nonetheless affiliated because you went to school or worked with them, or you lived in the same neighborhood growing up, or you both happened to be members of a memorable college or institute class, or the like. Past shared experiences of one kind or another bond you as "friends" even though they may do less-than-friendly things to you in the present, such as point out in front of a group what an idiot you are; write things on your Facebook wall that may attempt to be funny, pithy, or clever but come across only as rude and insensitive; single out the flaws in your creative efforts while giving little (or, in many cases, zero) positive feedback or encouragement; and on and on.

To be fair to people who fall into this category, I don't think they mean to do it, or at least they don't recognize exactly what the effects of their behavior are. To paraphrase Cole Sear (Haley Joel Osment) in M. Night Shyamalan's The Sixth Sense: "I see condescending people. Walking around like regular people. They only see what they want to see. They don't know they're condescending."
Now, I'm not saying that it isn't good to be smart, to have a good education, to read a lot of books, or anything like that. What I am saying is that it is more important to be charitable than to be smart, because it is possible to be both - but charity is the greatest. Condescending people tend to mix up the order of these two qualities, putting being smart above being charitable.

For an example to illustrate this point, I think back to when I was called to be deacon's quorum president in my ward at age 13. I was set apart to this position but was not given any sort of training as to what a deacon's quorum president should do or how he ought to act. At that vulnerable young age, I stood up to conduct my first deacon's quorum meeting and made some announcements before sitting down in my chair. One of the counselors in the bishopric, who was sitting in on the meeting, then proceeded to lecture me - in front of the entire quorum - about what I had just done wrong and how a deacon's quorum president should act and pointed out multiple things I should have done differently, all to my great embarrassment.

This man wasn't wrong in the sense that I could have done a better job or that I had not presented myself well, but to do it in front of the entire quorum, to me, was not only condescending but very hurtful and wrong. It was the kind of thing that makes some people drop out of church attendance and go inactive.

In the Book of Mormon, Jacob spoke of those who “when they are learned they think they are wise . . . wherefore, their wisdom is foolishness and it profiteth them not." He also added: “But to be learned is good if they hearken unto the counsels of God (2 Nephi 9:28-29)."

I got over my little episode as deacon's quorum president. I hope that the counselor in the bishopric did, too. I've since met many people and had friends come and go, and I've known many humble people, as well as a few who, like the aforementioned well-intentioned but poorly executing counselor in the bishopric, were also condescending and who are now people I largely try to avoid. I'm always most impressed by those who really are far more educated than me and have every right to be condescending but who don't act like it, whatever office or position they may hold. Instead, they choose to be humble and are down-to-Earth enough to speak to me as an equal and on my level.

Mr. Nice Guy

What's so good about being nice? Sometimes, we members of the male gender are left to ponder deeply on that question.

The problem with being told that we are "nice" or "great" or some sort of equivalent of the term is that it is so often followed by the conjunction but and then a less-than-flattering or backhanded compliment such as, "I'd rather drink a whole bottle of ipecac than go on another date with you."

Okay, to be fair, I've never been dumped with those exact words. But when a girl tells you in no uncertain terms that she's not interested in continuing to pursue a relationship with you, being the gentleman that you are and all, it can sure feel that way.

I don't know if women are naturally programmed to tell you you're "nice" as a means of softening the blow, or whatever their motivation may be. To the guy who is about to get dumped - and, believe me, he knows it's coming - it is something of a death sentence. It's like walking into the dentist's office. You know that an unpleasant experience is about to happen, but you know that you have to do it. The times I've been told I'm "nice" or "a good person" just before a breakup, it honestly does not make me feel one bit better about myself.

I think I should state for the record that I also don't think women intend to be cruel when they do this. I think nature or society or whatever programs us to be this way - both the woman telling the man that he is "nice" and the man feeling like, as gentle or polite as the woman may have been in telling him this, he has just been the victim of Mola Ram's tearing-your-still-beating-heart-out-of-your-chest Thuggee ritual in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

Keep in mind that when actor Christian Bale went on his now-famous rant on the set of The Dark Knight back in 2008, he first told the lightning director or assistant gaffer or whoever it was who had ruined his shot: "You're a nice guy!" He then proceeded to rip the man's head off, deep fry it in vegetable oil, smear it with buffalo sauce, and then take large bites out of it. In a verbal sense.

What to do, then, boys? If being "nice" is actually such a bad thing, what should be our course of action? Is the solution to stop being "Mr. Nice Guy" and become a jerk? This is another question that keeps many in my gender puzzled. Quite often, we look around us and see guys who are jerks to us, as well as to many others, with no lack of female companionship on the weekends. I feel sorry for those female companions, because sooner or later they're in for a world of hurt.

I honestly don't know the answer, so perhaps that is why I pose these questions. One thing I do know: It is better to be kind. It is better to strive to be a good person. It is perhaps best of all to love others as our Savior would. Our actions should not be motivated by what we either expect to receive from others or how we expect to be treated in return but from a sincere, personal desire to love our neighbors as we love our Father in Heaven.

One final thought: Someone who sees the goodness in you and recognizes that as something attractive rather than something repellent is really the kind of person we're all, deep down, looking for anyway, isn't it?

Movie Review: "Red Dawn" (2012)

Up until now, do you feel like movies have really failed to capture the excitement of a half-dozen guerrilla warrior teenagers robbing a Subway sandwich shop at gunpoint?

I know that I certainly have felt that way. Fortunately, Red Dawn accomplishes this and much, much more.

The plot is quite similar in nature to the original Red Dawn - which was also, for you trivia buffs, the first PG-13 film in film history - that came out in 1984. Without warning, communist soldiers from a foreign land parachute into a small Western town as part of a nationwide attack. All heck breaks loose, but a group of high school students, aided and advised by one of their older brothers, who is a Marine, band together to wage guerrilla war and to take back their town.

The differences? It's North Korea invading us and not Russia; the setting is Spokane, Washington, instead of Colorado; and Chris Hemsworth (aka Thor), rather than Patrick Swayze, plays the older brother/Marine. Also, there's no Charlie Sheen in this one, so that's a plus.

In addition to the aforementioned scene of Subway pillaging, there's plenty of good actions sequences this time around - a lot of urban warfare in and around Spokane, if that's your idea of entertainment. Even so, it doesn't quite measure up to the original, Charlie Sheen's absence notwithstanding. There were a couple of times when the people around us were chuckling at a few unintentionally funny bits.

At one point, I actually expected a cameo from one of the Wolverines from the original film. Picture, say, Charlie Sheen throwing grenades at North Korean commies while shouting out his catch phrase: "Duh! Winning!" Well, at least that's what I half-expected.

It's definitely a feel-good movie (you know, when people aren't getting blown up and stuff) that makes you think about this country we live in and the freedoms we enjoy here. I would even dare say it's a patriotic film, as the group of high school kids have to think seriously about what it means to be free and learn to cherish those who, in the past, fought for the very freedom they inherited at birth.

Also, as clips during the opening credits attest, Obama is still the president when this all happens. (Insert your own punchline here.)