Is it so wrong that I love it?

The beauty of vertical integration.

Someone just yelled across the room right now on her way out of the door.

“Are the crop sweaters selling enough that we should make more?”

Silence for a good five seconds.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay!”

And that’s how things are done in a vertically integrated environment in the U.S. No Chinese translator necessary.

If you haven’t read Abraham Maslow’s A Theory of Human Motivation, do yourself a favor and give it a look.

I don’t know if I’ve quite reach that point of his self-actualization, but I’ve got the feeling that I’ve got to be damn near close. Discussing it with someone that I consider a mentor of sorts recently, we got onto the point of transience after the pinnacle of the hierarchy of needs is reached.

I’ve written in the past how I often turn into a blubbering mess when I never was before. I’ve become an advocate for those with less opportunity than me, in terms of immigration. High taxes and welfare socialism still irk me, sure, but compassion, understanding and communication are now my central motivation. Self-actualization shouldn’t be the final step; it’s just natural to feel the need to want to do more, be a part of something greater than yourself, after you have found your convictions. So when I spied the impassioned speech of the AFL-CIO’s Secretary Treasurer Richard Trumka, it was more than his evocative delivery that delivered.

This presidential election—and my own personal struggle with connecting with people that I meet every single day—stems from this irrationality that Trumka is talking about. My obsession with this election stems from my passionate stand against this: the complete and utter disregard for the appropriate valuation of intelligence and logic from large swaths of the American population. Confidence and faith are solid stepping stones for a strong, personal character, but they cannot be the building blocks for cooperation or community. They cannot be proven wrong, they never “blink” and they polarize too readily.

And that’s where my transient campaign lies. It often leads to defensive exchanges, but I feel like I am doing a disservice to friends and family if I hear excuses for evading self-reflection and common sense. Beyond self, I would hope that those around me would feel responsible to hold me accountable for my convictions. Motivations are personal and true, but, if you truly care for someone, I implore you to set the bar high and question their reasons when they seem flimsy. Help them find their Fight Club Moment. Hold people accountable for consistent understanding without hyprocisy.

Trumka isn’t just talking about racism. He’s attacking the tenets of a culture that knows no political party or religion. He’s not only preaching tolerance of ethnicity, but also promoting the deconstruction of an attitude rooted in irrationality. For the first time ever, I take my vote seriously, and it isn’t because of flag-waving “Vote or Die” pseudo-patriotism. It’s because of a personal responsibility, one that is important to me, to promote the virtues of knowledge and rationality with my vote. Governor Joe Sixpack is literally insulting that idea and it literally makes me sick.

(I’m hyped on Vicodin. Just had knee surgery today. The crutches chaffe and the drugs have got me feeling drunk.)

My fridge looks like it belongs on MTV Cribs. Lots of juice and beer. But it’d all be empty and unnecessary if I had a vacation.

Too much work, and no vacation,
Deserves at least a small libation.
So hail! my friends, and raise your glasses,
Work’s the curse of the drinking classes.

- Oscar Wilde

I’d rather be in the city for my mindless entertainment. Or just a solid cart food gyro. That’d do it.

Science fiction author and distant relative of John Wilkes Booth John Scalzi wrote this on the Tor Books blog today:

I’ll let you into a little secret of mine, which is this: I’m the sort of dude that gets wrung out about emotional scenes in books and movies and TV. I date this tendency back to a specific event, which was the birth of my daughter. Before then, I could read or watch a scene of complete heartbreak and go “eh”; after her birth, I get choked up watching very special episodes of SpongeBob SquarePants. I hate it, man. Among the reasons I hate it is that when I go out in public to do a reading, there are entire books of mine that I can’t read aloud, because I can’t get through them without sobbing.

This totally resonates with me. I was as indifferent to everything as anyone could be before. Once you start learning about yourself and figuring out what things really mean to you, I think it’s easier to have a stronger connect with the things around you. It’s just a guess, but the numbness is gone now.

Instead, I feel like I’m actually present, an active participant in the here and now. In hindsight, it is truly unreal, especially considering I never bothered to even consider working towards this state before, but it makes all the difference now. And it is absolutely amazing.

I’m not the type of person to find substance in lyrics. But things that I think are often put better by other people. From “Labor Days”, Aesop Rock’s “No Regrets” pretty much embodies my part-time perfectionism, an idea based in sober reality.

No Regrets – Aesop Rock
Look, I’ve never had a dream in my life
Because a dream is what you wanna do, but still haven’t pursued
I knew what I wanted and did it till it was done
So I’ve been the dream that I wanted to be since day one.

If you’re not working towards that everyday or fearful that you might lose that focus, you’re doing it wrong.

(A note: I often reference past posts of ideas that keep me going. This is a reminder to me. I need it as much as anyone else. Find ways to remind yourself of what you want. It’ll empower you to do more than you could ever think you could.)

Opportunities in marketing and relationships come from unusual places. Last week, somebody posted an interesting comment on a site writing about American Apparel. I ended up contacting him and it turns out he’s a great guy. He came down to the factory this week and I showed him around. He wrote about it at his blog yesterday and said some awesome things about me.

Shawn Shahani of American Apparel gave me a tour of the headquarters and factory right here in downtown Los Angeles. Shawn is a real dynamic, up and coming marketing guru and I have faith that he will help lead the web 3.0 revolution…

Leading the revolution. That’s me. Maybe I should dress up like these guys.

I don’t like to post novelty things that I find interesting. It often ads nothing. But Julia Childs, chef extraordinaire, was a WWII spy. And this needs to be shared with everyone. The lede and some Childs brilliance:

WASHINGTON (AP) — Famed chef Julia Child shared a secret with Supreme Court Justice Arthur Goldberg and Chicago White Sox catcher Moe Berg at a time when the Nazis threatened the world.

They served in an international spy ring managed by the Office of Strategic Services, an early version of the CIA created in World War II by President Franklin Roosevelt.

This. woman. was. a. spy.

[Probably NSFW. Unless, you know, you work at American Apparel too]

I wrote before about the July 4 squirt gun video we made over here. I thought that one was okay. Just for fun, sure. This last one? I love it. Though it annoys me that people are calling it “viral”. You can’t make a viral ad. You just make an ad. EVERYBODY else makes it “viral”.

I’m pretty damn sure we get that over here.

(Update: YouTube took the damn video down. I’m sure we’ll get it up in some capacity soon.)

(2nd Update: We got it back up, but it had to be censored. Lame.)

I haven’t been posting much. It annoys me. Simultaneously, it annoys me that it can even affect how I feel. I’ve actually been writing a ton, but I haven’t been happy with the end results. My Drafts folder is getting filled up.

Thinking about it, I figured out my problem.

As my last substantive post suggests (still stinging from Favre), I’m still in the midst of a full move into an apartment. Work has been really rewarding, but also doubly maddening. My social life is fair, though I’m usually too exhausted to really try to be too adventurous.

So what’s the issue?

I’ve wrote before about how I felt dependent upon other people for my success, how I was waiting for my big break. And then I resolved that I had to make it happen myself.

Now? Things are going really well in just about every facet of my career and life right now, but I still get the nagging feeling that they can be much, much better. Anything that comes my way, I feel like I’m absolutely killing. Sure, I’m pretty satisfied with that, but there’s obviously a problem.

I’ve become entirely reactive.

Everyone is now fairly familiar with Google’s infamous 20% side project rule. Gmail, Adsense, Google News (which kind of blows, sorry) were all created this way, among other Labs graduates. They’ve institutionalized the idea of innovation among their workforce, while still juggling whatever the hell it is that keeps them busy in Mountainview.

Entering the workforce with an obsession for success (like I have), it’s good to remind yourself not to rest on your laurels. Things are looking up, but I haven’t been reading, innovating, thinking enough. It’s easy to say that I don’t have enough time with everything else on my plate, but I’ve got to make time. Force your reputation resume to proceed you. It’s easy to chalk things up to inexperience, but there’s a big difference between the intern that’s working for resume-building and the wunderkind that brings real success. A big difference between a recommendation that reads that you were a good student and the one that says you were an absolute prodigy.

The distinction between the two is substantive, but the means of getting there is minute. It just takes a concerted obsession with constantly innovating yourself and your strategies. If all of your advancement and success is dependent upon the beck, call and adulation of someone else, you might be lauded, but you won’t be the master of your own success.

Don’t be reactive. Be proactive.

It worked for her, after all.