Finding others of my Tribe…

Have you ever met someone and just instantly clicked? I am not simply talking about whether you liked them, I am talking about that communication short cut where you just get what they mean pretty much immediately. You understand their point of view and their raison d’être (while I like the concept of raisin d’être, I can’t help but think of those little raisin filled pies whenever I hear the phrase). Usually there is a bit of overlap in interests, but usually, there is more a sense of the same kind of energy.

WARNING: Badger neglected to bring ‘the funny’, today. Having one’s cat cough up a fur ball right in the middle of a fresh home made pizza does tend to lead to a mirth light sort of blog post. You may be thinking that a mirth light blog post is like light beer; kinda ‘what’s the point of that?’ Well, I had a peanut butter sandwich for dinner and am feeling quite okay with you lot being left grumbling and muttering in grizzled dissatisfaction. 🙂

So. Back to where I left off. I am increasingly inclined to think of people who I meet that I really connect with as being of my tribe. Being around people of your own tribe is intoxicating. Having a synergy in your perceptions and ambitions is a heady thing. If you look around through the calendar pages of history, you’ll find instances of many individuals of the same tribe getting together and doing amazing things. The Algonquin Round Table is such an example. Perhaps, too, the Manhattan Project (just because something is awful doesn’t mean that it can’t amaze). Music scholars could cite examples as could entrepreneurs, engineers, artists, etc.

I think that there is a coterie of same tribe folks who have found each other and are doing some pretty nifty stuff in new media. Members of this group include Joss Whedon (creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer), Felicia Day (creator of The Guild), Wil Wheaton (yes, I know he was Wesley Crusher, but he was an actor, he was given his lines, he didn’t write them. Read some of what he writes, then gauge the mettle of the man). Where was I? Oh yeah, there are several others to mention, Sandeep Parikh, Jed Whedon, Maurissa Tancharoen, and probably a bunch of others who I am unaware of. As individuals and in occasional collaboration, these people have used the Internet as a delivery mechanism for their material and have redefined how things have to work in terms of television, movies, and even music. They are creating hugely successful shows without big studios or networks being involved.

To get a sense of what I mean, download  Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog and check out geek and sundry at http://geekandsundry.com/

But there’s a yin to this yang. What happens when you don’t find other members of your tribe? For my part, I am an expression-geek. A slightly curmudgeonly one, I admit, but an expression-geek nonetheless. I fiddle with words and graphics and play around with computers and games. I gravitate towards science fiction and fantasy like a moth to a flame. I revel in communication in all of its forms and manifestations. If I wasn’t so abysmally ill suited to graceful motion, I’d be cheerfully willing to do an interpretive dance routine to get a point across. Fortunately, I am self aware enough to know that all I would manage to communicate with Dance would be the concept of lumbering clumsiness (bad luck for any witnesses come the day that I find myself wanting to convey the concept of lumbering clumsiness).

There aren’t any other expression-geeks in my neck of the woods. I have friends, very good ones. Some are even geeks, too. But there aren’t any other expression-geeks (yes, I made up that term, but it suits. Geeks are normally somewhat socially… out of step. Expression-geeks can talk to anyone. That said, we’re still geeks). So. Do you have a sense of being the only one of you’re particular tribe in your neck of the woods? When you’re a soloist looking for a choir, do you sing your choral part in isolation? Or do you belt out a mildly satisfying solo number and just get on with it?

I’m afraid that I don’t have an answer for that. I am in the right place at the time that I need to be here. But doing that solo singing bit isn’t my little raisin filled pie. So I guess I will do my choral bit in isolation (slightly off key, I’m sure, but in no way involving interpretive lurching) and I will keep being a slightly curmudgeonly moth about science fiction and fantasy. That said, I am interested to know what you think. What are your thoughts and experiences in terms of tribe.

My guess is that the normal style of badger blithering will resume with the next post. At the very least, I can promise to endeavor to do my blog post before I make a pizza for my cat to contaminate.

Badger

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The Driveway of Death…

There are people who vehemently assert that they NEED the new(ish) 4WD Porsche Cayenne (or whatever it’s called) simply because they quite frequently need to park their car on their lawn, or because thereare an awful lot of leaves and branches on the lane that they live on. Or worse still… because they have a gravel drive. <Cue gasp of horror>.

Look, sunny jim. Unless your driveway is frequently a slurry of mud, clay, and free running water, AND is so steep that you keep having Sherpa guides enquiring if there are any positions vacant, then you don’t get to claim that you need a 4WD because of your driveway.

My driveway is steep. It also turns into a clay soupy fun slide whenever it rains… which in NW Tasmania is somewhat frequently. There have been times when I have been out and about and come home and known that somebody has visited. Not because they left a note, but rather it was the huge churned up slide channels in the lower part of my driveway (Henceforth referred to as the swampy bit). It’s mildly amusing, actually.  I usually hop out of my truck and have a quick look to see how close they came to the neighbour’s fence and to wiping out the world’s most pointless shed.

I can claim ownership of the title ‘World’s Most Pointless Shed’ because the shed has no doors. I don’t mean that the builders did three walls and a roof and then thought ‘bugger it, that’ll do.’ No. They did four walls and a roof. Why they didn’t put in a door isn’t the big question, though. The big question is why they put 20 bales of hay and half of a shower cubicle into the shed while they were building it. Seriously. 20 bales of hay and half a shower cubicle. Then they finished walling it all off.

Perhaps it’s the One Shower. Sauron’s ablutionary furnishing walled off (with some hay) to protect the people of Middle Earth. I meain, something had to be used to wash the crack of doom, it just stands to reason.

So the World’s Most Pointless Shed sits amid the swampy bit at the end of the Driveway of Death. So. I have to figure out how to deal with all of this. The One Shower (and the hay, though I have promised my mum a couple of bales for her chooks), the swampy bit, and the Driveway of Death. I have taken the first step already. I and a friend went all barbarian beserker on the Most Pointless Shed in the World and tore off a wall.

It’s amazing. Suddenly I care if visitors smash into the shed while careening wildly out of control. Fancy that. A simple point of egress and the structure is magically transformed. I have also been scraping and cleaning up the driveway with my tractor, it’s mildly less homicidal, now. Soon I will put a couple of truck loads of gravel on it so that it doesn’t get so infernally muddy. Gosh. A gravel drive. Good thing I have a 4WD.

Badger