origin

The Theory of Everything (Defining Logos)

Posted on by Tim Kuefler

Throughout my life I’ve heard the same mantra over and over again.

Many people state that the english language is intuitive for native speakers, but very difficult to learn when you already have another language or two under your belt. Not counting all of the weird cultural idioms that have developed over the centuries, and the regional dialects that exist inside of countries like England, the United States, Australia, and Canada. But what about the differences across states, provinces, and cities? Not to mention the fact that the english language is full of grammatical problems, oh so very many problems – the kind that can drive a professional writer into a state of madness.

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And not the shit-kicking kind of madness which induces literal pitfalls from Gerard Butler, but brain madness from literary pitfalls that are more worse than a brain freeze but less worse than a lobotomy.

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But now you’re probably thinking about what a lobotomy would feel like aren’t you? But that’s not really what this post it going to be about.

Well not literally, anyway.

No, I wanted to dig in a bit more, and poke around with a word that is near and dear to my heart, the word LOGOS. You’ll see why shortly. If we consider the words etymology, which I just get a kick out of writing, but more on that later, you’ll begin to see where the opportunity is for you to think about the principles of language differently as a creative professional.

Origin Stories

The study of the origin of words can be a downward spiral all to itself, but let’s take a tour of the word LOGOS. The word has Greek origins, and is one of those words with numerous English word equivalents, all having their own meanings – thought, speech, meaning, reason, proportions, standard, logic, order, wisdom, truth, and word (of all things), as well as a few others.

When we layer in the field of philosophy, LOGOS brings life and order to the known universe. Taking the mythical, the unknown, the fantastic and making applying a principle of organization guided by state of change.

And as someone with Christian roots, it’s compelling to learn that the term became significant in Christian doctrine to define the role of Christ within the created world. I mention this not because I want to go down the road of religion, spirituality, et al., but because as creators ourselves it is important to figure out how we order and shape our own personal created worlds. Do we created self-contained universes that only materialize once? What about sharing stories across works? Or what happens when you intertwine a series of work with yet another and bring a new level of connectedness through the broader framework?

Ultimately, what I’m really looking to share is that in the beginning was the LOGOS, and the LOGOS was with THE CREATOR, and the LOGOS as THE CREATOR.

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Of course, none of this development is going to come to you easily dear readers – I can guarantee you that much. Defining something so complex as the direction you should be headed in takes time, but I think there are ways to arrive at the destination while maintaining enjoyment of the journey. As Aristotle defined in his Ars Poetica concerning the three modes of persuasion. LOGOS is an appeal to logic, PATHOS is an appeal to emotions, and ETHOS is an appeal to ethics.

Not one of these methods is more or less relevant than the other, but we have to start somewhere. And defining LOGOS is a good place to start. In the future I will spend some more time demonstrating how to articulate a LOGOS using my own art practice as an example, but PATHOS and ETHOS will definitely factor is as well.

It’s all important in the development of your creative voice, at least that’s my theory.

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Having said all of this, that doesn’t mean that the definition of LOGOS is fully and complete resolved yet, and much like the English language, it’s not the pack leader for most the difficult ideological concept (or language) in the world either. And did you know that Russian, Japanese, Mandarin, and Arabic all hold some difficult aspects that make them strong candidates? Fun tidbit right?

I’m just about out of theories for now my friends, but come back tomorrow for an album review of 2x mothers.

Tim!

Dat Mask (The Costume – A Shocking Expose, part II)

Posted on by Tim Kuefler

Previously on timotheories… We continued to watch in anticipation as the Winchester brothers Dean and Sam were hot on their father John’s trail, travelling the back roads and small towns of the continental United States in in hopes of finding him and killing the demon responsible for all of their family troubles!

Nope, that’s not right.

That’s definitely the update on Supernatural I was saving for my next livejournal entry – I seem to have misplaced some copy, which I’m only slight sorry about (read: sorry, not sorry). Just kidding, I don’t use livejournal folks – I use a moleskin. Anyway, it is true that I have very recently have gotten into that show in a big way and am kind of hooked now. I might have started last week, in fact. Interestingly enough, there are some minor correlations between that show and part 2 of my post on mascots and comic books.

Well, the correlation is moreso about what the show represents.

If you really think about it, urban legends and ghost stories have just as much power and hold nearly as much cult interest as the broader and older mythologies that we are all familiar with. And I’m sure you’ve heard the theory that today’s mythologies have become the stories told to us through the platforms of superheroes and supervillains.

No? Well, dear readers, I ask that you try to sit still for a minute because I’m getting ahead of myself again, and that is a theory we need to dig into at some point. But first, we need to finish the story that I just left hanging there in the ether from last week’s post. Then I can begin to tie all of these little ideas together in a nice made-for-TV movie message.

So where were we? Right, I had just been yanked off the dance floor.

…But then something happened. My conscience knew immediately what that arm on my shoulder meant. I was being slowly herded out of the gym by two guys who I thought, in my moment of hyper paranoia, were probably going to throw me outside and beat me up.

Or worse, haze me and take pictures.

“Screw you, Jill and Dustin,” was all I could think of in that moment. Well that, and that one-hit wonder by Lifehouse.

To be honest, getting beat up probably would have been an easier fate than what was about to unfold. I was going to face one of my worst fears, failure and disapproval from an authority figure whom I trusted and admired. All of my power was leaving my fingertips, that euphoria of coolness and mystique was gone. We started the slow march back to the SU room, and my feet felt like weights, but I had no choice, I was going to have to face reality soon.

One of hired guns inquired to my “friends” about who was in the costume. I thought maybe they would at least lie or something fortunate like a disaster of inner-ear damage would disorient them and free me from their grasp. Maybe if I made a break for it, left my personal belongings behind, and just ran home, I wouldn’t be in any trouble. How would they pin it on me? There was no proof I was actually in the costume, right?

Nope, I couldn’t get away it, plus my CD player was in my coat, and I needed that to function on a daily basis.

For those of you who hit your teens after 2005, a CD player, or compact disc player, is a smaller version of a car stereo with earbuds. And this is what we used for quite a while in western society in order to listen to music, before we had the option of digital files that could be housed in our phones. Yeah, I know, crazy right?

So I finally admitted that I was in there. Which got a decent amount of shock because I didn’t really do stupid things at school or at least I didn’t execute them myself, I was lucky enough to have friends who would happily experiment with these types of scenarios for me. But that was neither here nor there. I pulled off the mascot head and felt the kryptonite of accountability slowly engulf my system and leave me a paranoid android. And I didn’t even like Radiohead that much yet, so that fantastic reference was lost on me.

I only knew that one song Creep, I was so naïve. I felt like a creep too. Ugh.

Both of the teachers were in a decent amount of shock, but now I had to deal with the teacher in charge. We put the mascot costume back into the storage locker and headed towards the cafeteria for the trial.

I paced back and forth for a good 15 minutes of living hell while we waited for the SU teacher advisor to show up. I assumed he had called the cops.

A few people tried to comfort me, talking about the future and how when it was over I could go dance with some girls. There was no way that was happening. I was too concerned about the fan and all of the fecal matter everywhere, nothing was going to detract from that disgusting reality. I mean, even if I WANTED to dance with a girl, which was the last thing on my mind now, had they not read the beginning of the story? I was awkward with women. I was using the suit to mask my identity and pretend I was someone else.

I had been unmasked and was now prepared to die. Mr. SU Teacher Advisor had arrived.

Now that he had arrived, he was very direct. He didn’t sugarcoat the situation and definitely didn’t cut corners. I was given a reprimand and something about “my file” was brought up. Another of my associates was given his second strike. Later on he would get his very hilarious third strike, and kicked off the SU council, but that’s a story for another time. As for the third student, which is the way it usually goes in stories of fiction, he had no repercussions despite being the true mastermind behind this escapade. And he never admitted to it, not once, to this very day.

After it was all said and done, I can say I learned a very valuable lesson – mascot costumes smell, but the sweetness of their concealing power is far greater. Would I go through this experience again? Of course.

That was so emotional for me. Mostly because I decided to first reread the original story I had written for the high school newspaper, and man, has my writing improved since then. Fun fact, that article I have now shared over these two posts was called “The Costume – A Shocking Expose”, and you should be ever so thankful for the revised and expanded edition. Trust me on that.

So why was this particular story my Uncle Ben you ask?

You guys are so perceptive, you can’t even wait for me to weave this together organically. In that case, I’ll sate your curiosity.

Well the truth is this – had this experience not happened, I wouldn’t have started the subconscious trek through identity analysis and self-improvement. This moment in time effectively killed the old me, the child who was happy to avoid most human interaction and instead focus his time on activities like reading, playing video games, and absorbing copious amounts of TV and music.

Another great example of this concept of identity management comes from an awesome 90’s movie; mostly because I love to make associations with pop culture.

The Mask, which is fairly loosely based off of a Dark Horse comic book of the same name, is incredibly irreverent on the surface, but like most satire, it holds a powerful message when you look closer. One of my favourite parts comes from this clip below.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7C6Bx0OwUk

And remember how I mentioned that the word mascot was slang for “witch” and “spell” at one point, but now refers a symbolic figure that brings good fortune? There may just be some sort of magic or illusion association between those costumes and what we are really thinking behind our social masks. The only way to know is to find out for yourself.

I hope you enjoyed these theories, dear readers. Let me know what you think! Share some mascot stories! Tell me, what supeheroes do you like to read about?

Tim!

My Uncle Ben (The Costume – A Shocking Expose, part I)

Posted on by Tim Kuefler

Well it WAS inevitable.

Or maybe I should say pre-destined?

We all knew I was eventually going to have to write about comic books – That treasure trove of fantastic images and storytelling, a figurative well that I will always come back to, no matter how far away the journey of life takes me through the sands of time. And I think I just remembered my Uncle Ben.

Guys and gals, I am not sure that you realize how much I love comic books, but after this post is all said and done, I think you will have a much stronger idea of what I am talking about. But because this is timotheories and not some two-bit nexopia account from the early 2000s (playful teasing really, as I lived that life myself for a while), plus the fact that I cannot ever seem to write or talk about one subject without jumping into something else, we are going to use the medium of advanced puppet armour, or “the mascot” if you prefer, to dive into some interesting ideas and see what we can find.

First, let us have a history lesson. Did you know the etymology of the mascot is pretty broad? And reaches back almost 150 years? Yeah that’s the truth. Real talk even.

The word “mascot” was first popularized in an operetta called La Mascotte, which was, obviously, translated into English as The Mascot. Even more interesting is the notion that the word was meant to be used for a person, animal or object that is a symbolic figure for an organization, in particular, one that would bring good fortune. Pretty cool right? Previously though “mascot” was slang for the word “witch” and potentially also “spell.” We’ll come back to this seemingly minor anecdote further down the line dear readers, I promise.

Now that I’ve told you about the origin of mascots, and fortunately for us, origin stories are not an uncommon theme in a superhero story, I’m going to share with you some of my own experience with mascots. Specifically in thinking of their potential and then taking up the mantle on my own terms.

Once upon a time…

I had never wanted to be anyone other than myself, to be perfectly honest. I DID want to be a more interesting version of me and way more accessible to my peers though. High school was a pretty shitty time for me. But let’s be brutally honest, like Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter honest. I was singing that same tune that’s being covered so poorly a thousand times before, and I thought I was special. I thought I was Johnny Cash doing his rendition of Hurt by NIN and that it meant something. I thought I was pretty enough and funny enough and smart enough and that I just needed something life-altering to immortalize my unique image.

So not only was I going through puberty, realizing I was incredibly introverted, but my hormones had made me certifiably insane.

And yeah, it was just another dance at a high school full of intoxicated teenagers who were happy to get high on low grade marijuana and Bacardi breezers they had snaked from their “mature” older siblings. Nothing out of the ordinary there. In my mind though, I was finally starting to live life. I had made it through grade 10 and 11, and was a big man on campus.

Less than two months into senior year and I was one of two publicity chairmen on the student’s union. I wasn’t given the title of grand wizard, which actually happened to someone, but I was happy to be part of something larger than myself.

So when two of my new friends suggested that we head into the Student’s Union room to find something to bring out for the party, I was on board. We got into the locked room with our fancy SU keys and my pals immediately uncovered some awesome party beads. They had also brought lays for themselves and immediately put them on of course. Then Jill and Dustin, whose names have been altered because I didn’t ask their permission, had a brilliant idea.

Keep in mind I was 17, an introvert, who wanted to be cooler. Basically every 17 year old you’ve ever met.

The idea was that one of us should dress up as the high school mascot because it would build up school spirit, and given that I was the least vocal of the three amigos, it made sense for me to do it. That and the dinks wouldn’t let me wear their Hawaiian lays unless I did it. Apparently peer pressure worked that time. Also, as I’ve learned over the years, I get adrenaline rushes from the weirdest things. So I suited up.

The fan in the head barely worked, so I was immediately pretty damn hot. Also I was very sure no one had cleaned it out in at least a year or 2, despite the well worded lies of the teacher advisor who was voluntold to keep us in line. I mention this bouquet of smells because I think both heat stroke and nausea factored into my next few decisions.

We were heading into the dance.

While I was walking down the hall with my entourage it started to make sense why vigilantes in my favourite stories wore costumes. Whether they were good or bad, they had a special kind of power. The seemingly absolute freedom to act in ways I normally could not; it overwhelmed me at first. I WAS Rambo the mascot.

That walk awakened something in me. I was a superstar, more beautiful and graceful than any model living or dead. I was being cheered on by teachers and students alike as I did my exaggerated walk. There were so many high fives and hugs. And for a 17 year old boy with almost no social ability with the opposite sex, those hugs from girls felt amazing.

I began to dance gloriously to the music, and it felt right. I wish I could remember more of the sights and sounds inside the gymnasium, but I was pretty much blind in there. And the low hum of the fan combined with the heavy bass was not doing me any favours.

But then something happened. My conscience knew immediately what that arm on my shoulder meant. I was being herded out of the gym by two guys who I thought, in my moment of hyper paranoia, were going to throw me outside and beat me up…

Dear readers, I need to take a break right here.

It’s just occurred to me that we can’t have a healthy discussion about superheroes, costumes, and origin stories without employing a very powerful model of the medium.

The cliffhanger.

So I am going to exercise my right as the author of this story to keep you on the edge of your computer chairs, until next time. That’s right, we’re doing a post told in two parts folks. I promise it will be worth it. We’ll all learn a valuable lesson, and in the end, life will go on as intended.

Do I have any more theories today? No, unfortunately I’ve handed them all out. But now you can clip them, post them on your fridge, and then use them the next time you are out on the town and want to save someone the trouble of spending too much time and money on small talk.

Tim!