Watch this episode in Quicktime at this here link.

I did mention that this was an old routine, yes? You didn’t think I’d throw it away in such a cavalier manner, did you? Of course not. Reduce, reuse, recycle.

Last night I had a dream where I found myself having to seize control of a high-speed Winnebago as it barreled down curvy highways. I ended up skidding violently into a guardrail on some complex interchange outside of Chicago. When I woke up, my back was killing me. Somehow, my dream gave me whiplash. This is a first for me, and possibly for the world.

In any case, you are likely reading this sometime after the American Turkey Holiday. When I decided to switch to a Thursday update schedule, I sort of forgot that it meant updating on Thanksgiving. Not that I mind; Thanksgiving has never been an “important” holiday to me. And true: this particular one sees me working at the movie theater for all of the prime bird-eating hours, so it’s not much of a holiday at all, really.

Still, I do feel a little weird posting a new video on a holiday when the video has absolutely nothing to do with said holiday. Not as weird as the creators of the detective show LIFE must have felt when their brilliant episode about a murder in a shopping mall on Black Friday aired a week and a half before Thanksgiving. But weird nonetheless.

I note that Xmas also falls on a Thursday this year. And, if I do my math right, episode 320, the season finale, is scheduled to appear on that very Thursday. Which means… well, which means I need to start writing new fake holiday music. And, perhaps, contemplate the possibility of gearing the episode so that it serves as an entry point for the show. Because, after all, the movie theater does have a digital projector. And there is a long-standing tradition, now sadly dormant, of having short programs before the main feature. Hmm…

But to the giving of thanks. I… I have to say, I’m thankful to the people who smile. Especially those who smile at me, or because of something I did or said. But overall, smiling people make the world a bit better. So thanks to them.

And thanks to any and all who are reading these words. It’s hackneyed, I know, but you are the reason I keep doing this. It’s not like I make any money from this ridiculous experiment. Thank you for your patience and kind words. My life is resoundingly better because of you.

What else should I be thankful for? It’s hard to say, as my back meds have just worn off and I’m feeling a bit cranky. Remind me of anything important in the comments, would you? And save me some leftover turkey. I want sammiches.

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• Number of messages sorted through: 170
• Number of spam messages missed by filters: 7
• Number of real messages marked as spam: (2)

I am often disturbed by my spam.

Oh sure, it’s occasionally unsettling to get email from yourself proclaiming great advances in member-hardening technology.

It’s even yet still more heebie-jeebie generating to get an email with nothing in the subject line OR THE ADDRESS LINE, saying merely, “Hi John!” That had never happened to me before, and I admit it gave me a bit of a shudder. But that’s not the kind of disturbance I really mean.

No, every week, I must admit, the numbers reported above are ever so slightly skewed. Because every week I have to make a choice as to how to classify the email forwarded to me by my elderly relative in South Carolina.

I have never really known my father’s side of the family. It was an intriguing prospect when I found one of them was online, despite his advanced and further-advancing years. We exchanged a few brief email pleasantries, and I fully intended to get a longer conversation started when I had a chance.

Within a week, I received my first “FWD: I CAN’T BELEIVE IT.” (That probably wasn’t the original subject line, but it conveys the general impression of similar, familiar subject headers.) It was, if I recall, a mildly conservative rant presented in a vaguely humorous style. I deleted it without too much thought, thinking the occasional email forward was a price I was willing to pay to have access to that branch of my family tree.

Soon, more FWDs arrived. Mildly off-color jokes. Aggressively Christian anecdotes. No personal messages attached; always forwarded three or four times before reaching me. All the messages were very right-wing Republican; for a time I would read them in order to get a better idea of how the other side thought and felt. I saw it as a way of learning more about this relative, too; it was clear we were of two different worlds, and his was a very conservative, old-school Southern viewpoint.

Unfortunately, it further became clear that it appears difficult to adhere to such a viewpoint without accompanying doses of jingoism and bigotry.

Messages began arriving around Christmas of 2006 calling for, of all things, a ban of the Christmas stamp offered by the Post Office because it had an image of a Christmas tree illustrated with Arabic letters. The message was filled with hateful misapprehensions about Islam and awful, awful things about those who practice said faith. It was then I first felt the disturbance I’m feeling today.

More hate-filled messages arrived, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. This is a relative I could barely remember, whom I have not talked to in 20 years. What would I be able to say that would be contextualized well enough to have any lasting effect? I doubted I would be able to influence this relative in any way without first making an effort to become a greater part of his life, and yet I found the idea of knowing him at all more and more distasteful.

Then the messages stopped. It was a curiosity, to be sure, but I was also relieved. Had he passed away, I would have heard, so I just assumed that the messages were tapering off naturally.

Some months later, clearing out my spam filter, I realized the truth: they were all being shuttled off into the spam corral instead of finding their way to my inbox. I discovered this last year. I still haven’t done anything to correct it.

All the messages from him are now labeled as “might be spam” and held in my special reserve box. It makes it incredibly easy to ignore, to delete without pause, to just shake my head at the fact that after all these years, I discovered a racist older relative I never knew I had. Welcome to the Generation, kid. We’ve all got one somewhere.

But this newfound project of actually paying attention to my spam has given me pause; what is the correct course of action, here? It’s clear that this relative is incredibly distrustful of any non-white, non-Christian folks. He’s rabidly pro-American (in that way that is actually fiercely un-American if you know anything about history). He’s ultra-conservative. I have yet to see a homophobic email forwarded, but I’d be incredibly surprised if he were tolerant at all of anything other than strict hetero-normative sexuality. In short, judging by the things he sees fit to forward my way, he doesn’t seem like someone I want in my life. And were he to know anything about me, I severely doubt he’d want me in his.

In my younger days, I likely would have written him a polite email asking him to stop forwarding me hate speech. Now, I’m not so sure. He’s old. He’s very old. So are many of the people like him. His particular brand of violent terror is dying out. I could just go on letting my spam filter keep his messages out of my day-to-day life until they come to a natural end.

Or I could say something. Recently I keep composing angry responses in my head, violently disputing each and every claim of each email. But I don’t write them down. I don’t see a violent response doing any good. But maybe it would. Maybe the shock of having the boychild reject every principle you hold dear might actually lead to… or cause bitterness and pain, or do nothing. Such an action on my part is purely selfish, no matter the reaction.

So to respond with love? To attempt to address the issues in a calm manner? What would that do? Would it do any good? Would it change his mind? SHOULD I attempt, at this point, to change the mind of a man I barely know, simply because we share some DNA somewhere? What’s more, how to generate the love necessary to pull it off? I don’t care how closely related you are to somebody; it’s actual closeness that matters. I can’t automatically love someone I wouldn’t recognize in a small, not terribly crowded room. And without a love to transcend my automatic dislike, I doubt anything gentle would be persuasive or sincere.

Should it be done? A response is a commitment on my part, a commitment to try and forge a relationship with this long-lost relation. To do so would allow me access to a deep history of my father’s family, something I’ve never had. On the other hand, if my father’s family is filled with hateful bigots, perhaps it’s history best left undiscovered.

I got that Christmas stamp forward again this week. The spam filter missed it. I kept it on my phone for a day before deleting it. I just don’t know how to react.

What say you? Opinions, anecdotes, similar dilemmas, all welcome in the comments.

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Watch this episode in QuickTime.

Two weeks without a computer. That’s exactly the sort of thing I was thinking of when I built two extra weeks into the season schedule. Of course, I expected the time to be used for sickness or sudden travel, but being without a computer works, too. Or doesn’t. QED.

I haven’t talked about NaNoWriMo in a while (this is where I’d link to some posts on the old Forum discussing various NaNo issues; that is, had I not entirely borked the Forum while setting up this current website). It’s interesting to note that the year I started doing these videos was the same year I quit NaNo, probably for good. Before that, I had participated successfully for three years. What I found in year four was that I had learned everything I needed to know from NaNo — I had taught myself how to self-impose deadlines for personal projects, how to reach certain difficult goals in an unreasonable amount of time, and how to be creative despite feeling not at all in the mood to be creative.

Which is to say, the Jigsaw Video Thing is a direct descendant of my time with National Novel Writing Month. Strange but true. To be sure, I got halfway through my fourth NaNo and realized I just didn’t want to write anymore… partly because I already had what I thought was a pretty good first draft of a novel (from a previous NaNo), and felt that if I were going to spend a bunch of time working on a novel, I should probably spend the time on that as opposed to writing something new. And partly… NaNo was taking time away from the things I was actually working on. I discovered that, because of the way NaNo had made me think about fitting in creative time into a busy schedule, I was essentially doing weird versions of NaNoWriMo all year round. I didn’t really need it anymore, because I had absorbed it.

So no, this isn’t an autobiographical entry; I don’t know that I even know a single person still participating this year (feel free to correct this misapprehension in the comments). But I do still have utmost respect for the experience, and am happy to give Baty and the rest another plug, such as it is.

Plus it was a nice segue into next week’s episode, which I also filmed today. It will be posted on Thanksgiving, but it has nothing to do with turkey. Or Turkey. But more words on 316 when 316 is realized.

And because I like to show off, this is one of those episodes I’ll remind you that I did the whole thing with only two hands. Wire is your friend.

1 comment…

• Number of messages sorted through: 172
• Number of spam messages missed by filters: 3
• Number of real messages marked as spam: 1

From: Chiefjusticemohammed Uwais
Subject: GOOD DAY

You know what? You’re right. It IS a good day. It snowed today. That probably does deserve all caps.

From: Anita Mansah
Subject: PLEASE READ WELL

Oh, I intend to. Thanks for looking out for me.

From: aw-confirm@ebay.com
Subject: Phishing: eBay Unpaid Item Dispute for Item #29025…

My, it was nice of you to tell me you were Phishing. Saves me the trouble of ignoring you.

From: “Desmond Clayton”
Subject: Your new female guest will love that you are blessed.

I’m sure she will. Did you intend to write a rhyming couplet? Kudos.

From: danceaward2009@tiscali.it
Subject: DancEurope2009: The way to show your dance competition performances in the best theatres of Europe’s Capital Cities.

Um… what? I think maybe you’re looking for Bill T. Jones. Or, really, anybody who gives a crap about dancing.

From: AccesD
Subject: Participez au concours « AccesD au Cirque du Soleil »

Oui? Non.

From: BLOCKBUSTER
Subject: GET SMART and KUNG FU PANDA are at BLOCKBUSTER®

Well, there’s a mighty fine reason to avoid Blockbuster. Not that I needed another one.

From: Shell Oil Customer Service
Subject: YOU ARE NO(5)

I AM NOT A NUMBER, I AM A FREE MAN.

From: Mrs. Mimi Kirian
Subject: OK?

…yeah, I am. Though I could use some more tea.

On the subject of spam, comments are always appreciated.

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A quick note, because I have mostly been ignoring you.

My computer is finally back from the shop, and all appears to be well (apart from the mysterious switching on of system noises). Actually, potentially better than well; only a few days of hard use will tell for sure, but the new logic board may be actually making the system run, you know, better than before. Which is to say, my computer may now work as it’s supposed to, as opposed to the two-legged cheetah it was impersonating before. We shall see.

In any case, I owe you some videos. Rest assured, I haven’t been completely slacking off in the interim. The next three episodes are plotted out, and there will likely be a quick address from Kranium tomorrow or Sunday on matters philosophical.

Also, I now have a part-time job working for the Vinegar Hill Theatre, meaning I come home smelling of popcorn. This is neither here nor there.

In the meantime, here is a photograph of my pal Mike Keenan playing guitar for John Brown’s Body in Richmond a few days ago. Taken with the Goophone.

1 comment…