Influence

True to the stereotype that plagues anyone who graduated from my beloved alma mater, I found myself sipping coffee in a lobby of a five-star hotel last weekend listening to some lounge music. While I have certain reservations of perpetuating that tag roughly translated to female genitalia, good music and pistachio cake made it all worthwhile.

The topic was somewhat strange considering present company at that time. While Mama San is your typical workaholic honor-student, I never figured her to be one who would appreciate mor abstract topics of art and literature. On the other hand, Jay, while not without depth, rarely discusses anything of philosophical and artistic value outside of his shirt business and forays into the realm of romance. Yes, the relationship challenged people were at it again, overANALyzing silly details of our inability to find significant companionship other than our crazy little troupe.

I find it somewhat strange that just because we were situated in a place of supposed sophistication and "class" that our discourse would touch upon high brow subject matters. It's quite awkward discussing my influence admiration to the works of Alan Moore, Jim Lee, Chris Avellone or Neil Gaiman outside of an online forum. Pleasantly surprising was Jay's wonderment for Vincent Van Gogh and the late George Carlin, something that was a totally unknown to me, despite knowing the douche bag for nearly a decade. People can indeed, surprise you from time to time. We needn't ask Mama San's literary influences, for fear of having to remember some overbearing statistical business drivel of a certain multinational corporation. Either that or I simply didn't give much of a damn simply because the lovely Mama San prefers romance novels, something that I wouldn't even consider good bathroom reading. No offsene meant Mama San.

I've alwasy considered sharing one's artistic and philosphical influences good coversation material. It presents me the opportunity to try and outgeek everyone else while throwing obscure internet culture in a real world setting. It also allows one an in-depth analysis of other people's personality and psyche. While it doesn't necessarily paint the entire picture, a small teaser is more often than not a good launching point for further inquiries and discussion. While this may sound like a bunch of new age hipster talk associated to Mactards who sip coffee in Starbucks while updating their Friendster/MySpace/Facebook/Twitter in their overpriced plasticky gadgets, it does have merit.

Assuming that influence is anchored on admonisihing the rhetoric of that person or that body of work, certainly we can derive an idea of how to place this person in our personal lives. While perception and adoption of such concepts aren't fully accurate, the notion that such beliefs can embed themselves in our minds presents an interesting, and sometimes amusing, dynamic.

Of course, that doesn't mean that influence alone can tell you of a person's ideology or belief system. Obviously it is just one aspect, and as I've said, merely a launching point for further investigation. To do so would create a situation ripe with conflict.

But what about the self? Would reviewing the various influences, and the changes in one's own view of such influences offer an appropriate venue of self-assessment? I don't see why not. Growth is best measured by seeing change or the lack thereof. What compromises that have been made or whatever conviction remains can tell us a lot of what we've become.

Thinking about it now, it seems that sharing one's influence is a selfish act with the positive externatily of learning about those who we share with. Besides being able to show who's got the bigger intellectual penis, we can step back and ponder on what we've just shared just then and compare and contrast from what we would have said years before. It wouldn't be too weird to shit bricks after realizing how much has changed or has remained the same.

Kicking the Habit

I type this smoking probably (and hopefully) the last few sticks of cigs I will ever smoke in this lifetime.

Strange that the idea of quitting a habit as unhealthy of smoking hit me recently. Granted, most people would plan and pain themselves considering how and when to quit. I figured that in the spirit breaking such a habit, it would be best to do it abruptly, if not out on a whim. That's just my style I guess.

No matter what the motivation behind such an idea would be, the fact of the matter is doing kicking a habits is a means to an end. Habits are nice, sometimes they can identify us, differentiate us, and even endear us to certain people. I doubt however, that the habit of smoking falls under such a category.

Granted, the biggest obstacle is perhaps psychological. I've embedded it into my head that smoking stimulates my mind and imagination, perhaps as a switch of sorts to turn stimulate my writing.... but really, looking at it now, I seem to have used that only as an excuse to prolong my addiction to nicotine. No more.

There's something to be said about habits and how it affects us. We use habits as a means to put ourselves in a place of comfort, a zone of certainty wherein we are the masters and we know exactly how things will turn out. Habits can be good or bad, that much is true. However habits should never define us. People might remember us because of certain quirks and habits, but I daresay that such things are never truly part of our inherent nature. After all, to be human is to realize our flaws, our quirks, and to the ability to chose to keep them, encourage them, or to do away with them entirely.

Going cold turkey is never easy. In fact the odds of succeeding seem very minimal given the statistics of quitting smokers. But all things must come to an end. My only motivation is that this was a choice made selfishly. Not for anyone and not for anything but myself. Perhaps I will succeed, eventually, or fail, but will surely try again. Still, the idea of deciding on something easily without contemplation gives me a good feeling. In the grander scheme of things, this isn't just about preservation of health, but a challenge of the mind. An inner-struggle to prove that I am not bound by habits and that I have control over my self.

It all sounds oh so melodramatic, but it doesn't have to be. As I see it, inner-struggle is an everyday thing, we all act normal and go on about our usual days, but in reality, each and every person battles conflicts within themselves. The surface may seem all calm and serene, but underneath lies a maelstrom of reason, emotions and inklings. Sometimes we may not even be aware of our own battles with ourselves.

While this started out as narcissistic blabber on my decision to kick the habit of smoking, it eventually, and expectedly shifted to narcissistic psycho-babble about man's nature and the conflict within, all the while stubbing out a stick not even half-way through.... I suppose I'm off to a good start.

But it'll be a cold day in hell before I think about quitting coffee though.