Gifts and Recommendations

Gifts are a problem for minimalists. A well-meaning gesture can leave you stranded with an unsolicited material object: another slight infringement upon your space and liberty.

The oft-cited solution is to encourage consumable gifts, like meals, booze, tickets, charity donations, experiences, and fruit. This largely removes the material problem without having to cancel Christmas.

Today (and this will seem like a digression, but there is a point to this) I spent several hours reading 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami. I find this author’s work utterly absorbing; and, assuming I do not die before finishing this latest book, I’ll have read every one of his published works. The one I am reading now isn’t even released until next month, but I was able to acquire a rare pre-publication proof. That is how much I love this author.

I learned about Murakami from Laura. Her recommendation was a superb non-material gift. It cost no money and did not involve a material object, yet it had a profoundly personal affect and has been received with gratitude. Who knows how long it would have taken me to find this author otherwise? Perhaps when I found him of my own volition, it would have been too late. You have to come to some things at the right time.

Can recommendations be the true post-materialist alternative to gift-giving? A thoughtful recommendation can enrich a friend’s life in a similar way to a properly thoughtful gift without adding weight to their inventory.

Recommendations (of books, films, techniques, experiences, places) are strikingly similar things to gifts and, unfortunately, they come with precisely the same challenges. Just as a gift must be utilised or ornamented for a socially-acceptable period of time, there’s also an obligation to engage to some extent with a person’s recommendation.

In the past, I have found recommendations frustrating. They derail trains of thought, snag at attention spans, add items to to-do lists, increase expectational debt and anxiety. In 2010, I rather eccentrically planned my year’s reading in advance. Part of the reason was that I’d have an excuse not to accept people’s recommendations and to quickly change the subject: “Sorry, I can’t read that book. I’m doing this crazy reading experiment. Let me tell you about it…”

So recommendations don’t remove the social problem of gift-giving, but they can replace the material problem. Let’s try it. Have a pact with a friend to exchange recommendations (tailor-made for the particular individual) on birthdays instead of gifts. You’ve got a year to come up with the perfect recommendation so it shouldn’t be too trying. I imagine it will help you get to know your pals better and see how well they know you. If you want a material embodiment of this ‘gift’, you could write a library shelf-mark in a nice card.

Teaser for an upcoming event

Hello Emilia,

Rob
www.newescapologist.co.uk

An Escapologist’s Diary. Part 29.

Every weekday morning, at about 10:15, the postman buzzes the ground floor intercom.

As the only unused person in the building, I have become responsible for letting him in. Sometimes I’m preparing the breakfast when he buzzes, but sometimes his buzzing wakes me up and I have to get out of bed.

This morning, I decided to ignore his buzzing. I’d been up late attending to the pressing business of watching Jeeves & Wooster videos, and was far too sleepsome to worry about activating leg muscles and so on. Someone else would have to deal with it.

But they didn’t. Nobody let the postman in. So there was no post today.

I’ve only been living here for six months. How did the postman ever deliver his load to these flats before I was here to let him in? Did they only start receiving post six months ago? What did they think was happening? “Something’s just come through the door, Jeff. It’s all wrapped up in brown paper. And what’s LoveFilm? I’m scared.”

This reminded me of something I observed years ago but never reported here: the fact half of the planet expects you to work 9-5 while the other half expects you to be continually available.

If you need to meet with a bank manager or even do something as perfunctory as deposit a cheque, you have to be available at some point between 9 and 5 (or 10 and 4, if you need my local HSBC). If you’re expecting the delivery of a new washing machine or a fruit juicer or whatever, you have to be at home between 9 and 5 to receive it. If you need to visit the post office, a government office or a public library, you’d better be available during the conventional working hours. You often can’t even do it on the weekend.

How does anyone achieve even the smallest personal maintenance task while also juggling a job? When I had a job, I would use the office mail room, telephones and computers to conduct personal business. But this is against the rules. I only got things done by being a renegade. If I’d been caught using the mail room to send my own stuff around, I’d almost certainly have received a disciplinary.

Today I discover that even the postman needs someone to be at home. And yet! The other half of the world – the education system, the job centre, even your own family – seems hellbent on getting you out of your pajamas and into the blasted workforce.

To be a functioning member of society, you have to sell your hours of 9-5. But in doing so, you essentially remove yourself from society by being perpetually unavailable for anything. Is that how society works? The employed serve only the unemployed? If so, the jobbies should be thanking the skivers for keeping them in a job.

Read the rest of this entry »

Walking Again

[He has] broken the unspoken rules of an environment shaped by the car: the act of walking was creating a more human geography.

Sorry to return to my Escapological obsession with walking, but this interview with Will Self implicitly (and to an extent, explicitly) sums up a lot of what I like about it.

Blimey, this is our 200th post. Why not celebrate by buying a mag?

Grumpy

“I liked finding places to escape,” says comedian Kate Nash remembering her office job, “little nooks and crannies… where you could tuck yourself in and not be found, otherwise you just become just a number. You absolutely have to keep a sense of your own autonomy. You have to break the rules.”

Here’s The Grumpy Guide to Work:

Failed Escapes

The lures are obvious: freedom, fulfillment. The highs can be high. But career switchers have found that going solo comes with its own pitfalls: a steep learning curve, no security, physical exhaustion and emotional meltdowns.

This is a very interesting article about people who’ve tried to escape the rat race and failed.

It’s a sobering reminder that escape from a conventional day job doesn’t always work and you’ll sometimes be forced to go back to the old job, tail between your legs. This is why my career gym idea (see Issue Three) is so important.

Some of the failed escape stories are somewhat mystifying though. One woman left an unthinkably lucrative $450-per-hour job in a law firm in favour of a $1-per-hour home business. Why? Her home business idea was in event management: hardly the dream job. She should have stayed put for a couple of years and saved up enough money to never work again. Where are her savings? What did she do with that incredible hourly wage?

I think some people also confuse an ideal with what would actually be a pleasurable activity. Just because you have an enthusiasm for artisan cupcakes doesn’t mean you’ll enjoy running a bakery. I like coffee but I don’t see how running a coffee shop (ordering beans; cleaning tables; talking to dick-head customers; managing the accounts; getting sued for sexually harassing the staff) would be much better than rotting in an office somewhere.

Of course, there is no shame in a failed escape. So you have to return to the day job, but you’ll have tasted freedom and you’ll have some great stories to tell at the water cooler. Best of all, there’s nothing stopping you from refining your plan (or ripping it up completely) and trying again.

Choice

Opting out is an individual choice. You don’t have to form unions or demonstrations. You don’t need to convince anyone or get violent in the process. You just say no to credit for starters. If you feel evil, you can save your money and join the owner side, which I have done. You can also work to become completely independent of the system which I would like to (this is harder than simply buying into the financial system as it currently exists because you need to make your own system to replace it—this usually takes the form of a self-sufficient homestead.)

This is from Jacob Lund-Fisker’s excellent wide-angle take on the present wage slavery situation.

Warning: contains actual stuff about how banking and usury work.

An Escapologist’s Diary. Part 28.

The Sulking Ape and Other Stories (last week’s launch event for Issue Six) was a smash. I’d go as far to say it was the best launch event we’ve ever done. Live performance definitely trumps DJs and wine receptions.

The Edinburgh Voodoo Rooms saw Escapological readings from Neil, Aislínn, Reggie and myself; live music from Reggie, Nick and Scotch Todd; Laura took the photographs; and Samara did the promotional artwork.

The event was organised, quite excitingly, almost at the last possible minute. We knew in advance which readings we’d do and approximately how the event would fit together; but thanks to our jam-packed August schedules, the venue and promotion were always going to be last-second affairs.

We managed to find a cancelled show at the Voodoo Rooms, which put us in the position of being stand-ins for an entirely separate show (an ‘alternative cabaret’ show) so most of the audience had actually arrived in anticipation of something else entirely. I think they’d been expecting a burlesque dancer to do something inventive with ping-pong balls, so it was a relief to see that they didn’t expect the same from us.

This may seem like something from a nightmare: you and your five pals have to entertain a discerning audience who have come to see alternative cabaret. The crowd took a sporting chance and I think we were able to sufficiently intrigue.

Each reader was a contributor to Issue Six, and so we read from our own pieces. Neil read from his evolutionary cautionary tale, ‘The Sulking Ape’, the title of which we took for the event itself. I read a whimsical piece imparting the virtues of sitting to pee. Aislínn read from her astonishing directory of unorthodox funereal practices, and Reggie from his biographical article about the naturalist Leonard Dubkin. Reggie’s piece, accompanied by music from the Wireless Mystery Theatre was simply beautiful.

Still buzzing from my own Fringe show at another venue, I was full of beans as the MC. I felt obliged to point out that Reggie’s beautiful reading “contained no urine, testicles or dead bodies” as the previous readings had done, but that “it did include a reference to spider silk, which I think we can all agree is fucking filthy. Thanks for that Reggie”.

Reggie and the Wireless Mystery Boys then played the audience softly out of the venue.

I must extend big thanks to all of the performers and to everyone who came along. Thanks also to Peter Buckley Hill for allowing this last-second addition to his Free Fringe lineup.

MEMO: There may be a slight delay with sending all of the subscriber copies out. We printed a very small number for the event, in case of printer errors. We’re going to do one last proof-read before we print the second batch. Shouldn’t be much longer than a week though. Thanks for your patience!

Issue 6 Cover

New Escapologist Issue Six—Against The Grain—is coming sooner than you might think. Here’s a sneak-peek of the cover design.

Available to pre-order at the shop.

20% off New Escapologist Issue 5 at Lulu.com

Here are the details of that Lulu offer in the UK. Buy New Escapologist Issue 5 before August 14th and receive a twenty percent discount.