Our existence is surrounded with opportunities to make life altering decisions. If we choose to make a huge purchase, pursue a new career, or partake in a different way of living— they are all sitting right in front of us, just waiting to be chosen. Often, most people are afraid of the consequences of rapid change, the shock of having to adjust, or that a new endeavor might fail.

Confronted with such decisions myself, I try to squash my fears and work hard towards things I want and that inspire me to be a more productive and creative person. Sometimes projects don’t work out exactly the way I plan, and regrets can loom above.

But I try to remind myself that you always have to come back to appreciating effort— that trying is what matters. On the flip side, you could live an ultra-safe life, and never venture out of your comfort zone. Ultimately, this becomes a life altering decision as well, because you have chosen to remain the same… which, when the end comes, will fill you with more regret than having tried and failed dozens of times.

I’ve made lots of huge mistakes in my life, and I imagine I will make many more before the Big Sky comes crashing down on me. But no matter what, I know the biggest mistake would be to not embrace change. Keep evolving, people. Peace.

Yeah yeah, I know the web is a composite of servers everywhere. But of course, since nothing in this life (or the next one for you reincarnated blokes out there) happens without cash flow, it got me thinking— who really owns the web? And I mean own in the sense that if a corporation withdrew all of their green paper influence from the web, how much would it affect everyone else?

In a sugar sweet world, we’d all like to say we’re online for the sake of aesthetics, or because we want to communicate with the world. But in truth, we’re still consumers in this realm just like in the real world… news, music, video, fashion, porn, and of course art. It used to be that geeks and hackers ran the web, but consumerism has forced them to the underground. Ads and product links fuel the web’s existence now. But who has the most control?

Of course, I leave that to you to ponder. Even with 2 cups of coffee and that ringing in my brain like Daffy just got his bill blown off by a Fudd shotgun, I’m not awake enough to drop names. Or maybe I just don’t want to. Nobody is paying me to do so. Peace.

The morning’s thoughts have made me interested in getting a question on the next national census— “If given the chance, would you rather meet God or your favorite celebrity of all-time in their prime?” You might think this is an obvious answer, but maybe it isn’t.

Of course, I pondered such a premise myself. It would certainly verify a lot of theological quandaries to meet God, but then what would you talk about with him/her/it? Since God would already know what you’re thinking, that wouldn’t allow for much conversation. To boot, would God answer all of your burning questions (like “Who shot JFK?” or “Who ate the last slice of cold pizza?”) or would he just give you impossible riddles to solve? Of course, this all is based on the assumption God would even show up.

Equally, to meet the Beatles after the 1965 Shea Stadium concert would be a trip, or Albert Einstein when he came up with E=mc2, or Michelangelo after he finished painting the Sistine Chapel ceiling. But when you take away all of the cameras and glitz and make-up, celebrities aren’t that different from the rest of us. We admire them for their talents, because they can do things we cannot like sing, dance, act, draw, paint and write. But other than that, big deal.

The media and history books give famous people an aura of invincibility, just as the Bible gives one to God… thus making my choice difficult. So perhaps instead of answering the question, I’d just ask for the equivalent cash prize. Why? Because when it’s over, you can say you met someone of cultural worth, but it’s not going to help you in your everyday life.

I was thinking about why people get depressed and go insane and so on. Don’t ask me why, man… it’s just my nature. Anyway, I was waxing how our work systems have all of these provisions built in that in the event of someone going crazier than a coconut, there are fail-safes which can be enacted like counseling and prescription drugs. It’s like it’s expected.

I met a man yesterday who had moved his wife and 2 kids from Chicago to Jersey City, just so he could start up a new division for his company here in NYC. While I admired the sacrifice, I also recognize how risky it is. He wasn’t that high-strung or anything, but I imagined the strain he is under has to be a lot.

All of that ultimately led me to this thought— when people are listed in the news as “addicted to painkillers”, isn’t that a nice way of putting it? I mean, come on, you don’t think a guy who smokes pot or drinks a fifth of whiskey after work isn’t “killing some pain” as well? I just love how we can put a nice spin on things like that.

The moral: if things are too stressful, then cease doing them. Implement change. This service broadcast has been brought to you by the nice folks at Unsung Fu Publishers. No shark removals please.

Ever since I entered into the decision to start a publishing/artwork business, the last 7 months of my life has been a blur. It’s tough to branch out on your own, even tougher if you’re trying to do it while working a 9-5 desk job as well. I had tried to kick my caffeine habits about a year ago, and if I tried that today, I think I might crumble away like that guy in the 3rd Indiana Jones film when he drinks from the wrong Holy Grail.

Did you know, according to the SBA, that over 50% of small businesses fail in the first year and 95% fail within the first five years? So, put that math to work and you get this— if 1,000,000 businesses started the same time as Unsung Fu Publishers, then by 2009 only 5,000 of them will still be around. That’s a totally insane statistic.

But my motivation for it all is this: we all get wrapped up in our lives where the routines cause us less stress, and thus we accept it because we become comfortably numb. Change can be overwhelming at times, but it is the spinal cord of existence. To truly be alive, you need change. Thus I say, who cares about stress? We’re all going out somehow— I’d rather know my life ended crashing into the sun, instead of decomposing in the dark.

So, pour me another cup and keep the broken nose to that creative grindstone. Peace.

The eternal question continues to burn in the hearts and wallets of artists everywhere— Is art made for the sake of the people, or the artist who makes it? If you think it’s for the people, then that would presume that the art must be mass-produced so it can be purchased by the rich and poor alike. If it’s for the artist, then the art can only be sold for extravagant prices which few can afford. So which to choose if you’re a young struggling artist trying to make a living?

I guess the answer lies in your beliefs. Any artist who tells you they don’t like a payoff is full of that fragrant stuff you find in sewers. But to only have your art owned by wealthy people seems holier-than-thou to me. I think the point of being an artist is making an impact on people’s lives, on their way of thinking. Part of that impact is being able to hold the art, touch the art, damn well destroy the art if you paid for it. You can’t do that when the art is on a museum wall behind a burgundy velvet rope with a security guard to the side.

Maybe I only see it this way because I’m young and unsung as an artist. Supply and demand determines a lot. Money can corrupt even the strongest mind. But I’m going to try to do the right thing, and make art that everyday people can afford. If I ever blow up, I hope I have the sense to remember that. Peace.