First Themed Post, Yaaay!
One thing that always catches my eye is personality tests. They intrigue me to no end. Same holds true for sillier things, like horoscopes and numerology profiles. I'm not exactly sure why this is, but one thing is fairly certain: I am as well-informed about myself as it is possible to be by taking free internet quizzes.
Here, then, is an overview of my favorites.
Myers-Briggs: Classic and fairly well-known. Not my favorite because I find its insights a bit worthless, because I dislike the "jobs" focus (eg., people who fit this profile would be good at job x or y), and because I can never get the same result twice. The Myers-Briggs gives you a four-letter acronym that describes your preferred way to approach the world, for a total of 16 separate types. The first two letters are always easy for me -- IN (That's Introverted and iNtuitive, versus Extroverted and Sensing). But the next two letters waver depending on my mood. Usually I'm T(hinking) rather than F(eeling), but I'm always offended by being described as analytical and unemotional -- even though evidence for this being true is rapidly accumulating. And whether I am J(udging) or P(erceiving) varies on an hourly basis, so I'm really not too sure there.
Considering other tests I've taken, I'm probably INTP (at least for today). Take the test here (warning: it's a bit long) or just browse around the theory and come to your own conclusions here.
Colors: This is also a fun one with many variations. Only four basic types, but they're pretty efficient (don't worry, you can blend the colors). I am a White -- meaning I am a boring pacifist who resists change and tries to keep everyone happy (purely out of selfish motives --so they'll leave me alone). Reds are CEO-type strong personalities, Blues are nurturing and detail-oriented, and Yellows are adventurous and fun but take nothing seriously. See what color you are here.
Humours: Popular with the Catholic set, and fairly snazzy, if only for its deliciously medieval tang. Based originally in the idea that diseases and personalities were determined by different fluids, or humours, in the body, it still does a pretty good job of divvying people up (don't worry, you can blend here too). As far as I can figure it, Sanguines are extroverted and prone to be happy, Cholerics are extroverted but less happy, Phlegmatics are introverted and easy-going, and Melancholics are introverted and prone to depression and perfectionism. I am primarily Phlegmatic (because I just want everyone to get along), but have a broad streak of the Melancholic due to my occasional fits of romantic brooding and unfortunate predilection for analysis (lamented above). Try it on yourself here.
If the Catholic medieval intellectual tradition is not your cup of tea, a comparable mind-body thing is the notion of the Doshas in Ayurvedic tradition. (I'm somewhere between a Kappha and a Vata).
The Enneagram: I have not yet tortured my family with this one yet. I'm fairly new to it, and it contains complexities that are still strange to me, but it pleases me. There are nine options on this one, each described by a number (hooray). I am a 5, as far as I can figure. Be prepared to be described in terms of your primary motivation and suffer some confusion with other "points." See for yourself here.
Just for fun: Horoscopes are delightful, if invariably a load of hooey. See if you better match your "old" or "new" sign, learn how to use corny pick-up lines, and learn about the mysterious 13th sign, Ophiuchus.
Burned out on star signs? Play with numerology.
Love Language: This will explain to the others in your life how they can better express their overwhelming esteem. Short, fluffy.
The Other Color Test: Even shorter and fluffier.
Well, if you are not more in tune with yourself, your deepest desires, and your aesthetic needs, then at least you've wasted time in a (hopefully) pleasing fashion. Do stop by again, cousins.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
On June, and Coping
First of all: Representative Weiner. He is so very unfortunate, and that is all I have to say.
That's a lie. The other thing I have to say is a hypothesis that the reason the Weiner thing has become such a big deal is because the newscasters are tickled that they get to say "Weiner" so frequently on national TV. If he had a boring name like "Smith" or one that was hard to pronounce, like "Blagojevich," it would not be so incessantly, eternally talked-about. (Of course, it would not be half so funny, either.)
I am learning how to deal with it being summer and me having nothing to do but contemplate my mortality. My attitudes toward this question are threefold, and best represented in song.
1) Violent apathy. This is a difficult emotion to achieve. It consists of not caring so fiercely that you want to claw people's eyes out. You will get the idea by listening to "Nowhere Fast" by The Smiths. Ah, Morrissey.
2) Detached benevolence. Yes, sure, the world is full of misery and woe, but we'll all be dead soon enough, right? So let's just chill and have margaritas. See "Not Gonna Let It Bother Me Tonight" from the inimicable and grossly underrated Atlanta Rhythm Section.
3) Courageous acceptance. This one is slightly more difficult, as I am new to being brave. I'm really not sure how to do it yet, but the fact that the possibility is now there is something to celebrate. IN SONG! "Let's Dance to Joy Division" by my dear Wombats.
Summer reading: I am trying to slowly gather materials for my thesis. All the books and "Best of" lists and everything recommended the Thomas Covenant Series. Perhaps I was a bit too hasty, but within the first 100 pages I was filled with a violent antipathy. I did not finish it. Lack of moral fibre (see last post)? Perhaps. But anyway, I have since moved on to the monumental Malazan Book of the Fallen, by Steven Erikson. (First volume in the series is Gardens of the Moon; get it in hardcover because the paperback has obscenely tiny print.) Now, one does not read these books to understand the story. It's too big. If I had infinite amounts of time I would read these books (each 600+ pages of, as I've said, teeny tiny print) a few times, and maybe I'd finally get the plot down. As it is, I just sort of let them wash over me, trying to read one or two a year. Each one has a moment that makes me curl up and wail with grief over the injustice of character X suffering whatever grisly fate Erikson has chosen for him. I do this very rarely for books. Also rare is my willingness to tolerate taunting for such abominable cover art (the joker who dreamt up the cover for Memories of Ice has earned my eternal wrath and The Snarling Id's very first Bad Fantasy Art Award. Yes, that man has tiger stripes. Yes, that's Canon for the series. And yes, it looks unnecessarily ridiculous).
Also trying to work up the courage to reread Game of Thrones, since apparently there's a miniseries now. (Eeee!) But more importantly: mysteries. I have been procrastinating on all my 'scholarly' reading by using frippery and Rex Stout novels. Rex Stout wrote a metric tonne of books about Nero Wolfe. I rather wish I were on Nero Wolfe's staff, because his tantrums are hysterical.
Writer's block softened, but now I am in a pickle, in which I have no idea how tightly various plot threads will be tied and how to get them to touch each other. That's all right, though... I keep telling myself it's all right, anyway.....
No new band names, but a New Blog Feature: the Obscure Large Dog Breed of the Indefinite Period of Time! The pick for this Indefinite Period of Time is the Cane Corso, an Italian mastiff-style thing that will happily tear your throat out.
It's also SO ADORABLE I'M GOING TO DIE.
Oh boy, puppy overload.
Well, this turned out longer than I thought it would, and yet I feel as though I haven't really said anything. Keep your eyes open for the next post, which will be all about Personality Tests and Other Nifty Elements.
And remember, the world hasn't ended yet!
Keep on trucking, ladies and gentlemen.
That's a lie. The other thing I have to say is a hypothesis that the reason the Weiner thing has become such a big deal is because the newscasters are tickled that they get to say "Weiner" so frequently on national TV. If he had a boring name like "Smith" or one that was hard to pronounce, like "Blagojevich," it would not be so incessantly, eternally talked-about. (Of course, it would not be half so funny, either.)
I am learning how to deal with it being summer and me having nothing to do but contemplate my mortality. My attitudes toward this question are threefold, and best represented in song.
1) Violent apathy. This is a difficult emotion to achieve. It consists of not caring so fiercely that you want to claw people's eyes out. You will get the idea by listening to "Nowhere Fast" by The Smiths. Ah, Morrissey.
2) Detached benevolence. Yes, sure, the world is full of misery and woe, but we'll all be dead soon enough, right? So let's just chill and have margaritas. See "Not Gonna Let It Bother Me Tonight" from the inimicable and grossly underrated Atlanta Rhythm Section.
3) Courageous acceptance. This one is slightly more difficult, as I am new to being brave. I'm really not sure how to do it yet, but the fact that the possibility is now there is something to celebrate. IN SONG! "Let's Dance to Joy Division" by my dear Wombats.
Summer reading: I am trying to slowly gather materials for my thesis. All the books and "Best of" lists and everything recommended the Thomas Covenant Series. Perhaps I was a bit too hasty, but within the first 100 pages I was filled with a violent antipathy. I did not finish it. Lack of moral fibre (see last post)? Perhaps. But anyway, I have since moved on to the monumental Malazan Book of the Fallen, by Steven Erikson. (First volume in the series is Gardens of the Moon; get it in hardcover because the paperback has obscenely tiny print.) Now, one does not read these books to understand the story. It's too big. If I had infinite amounts of time I would read these books (each 600+ pages of, as I've said, teeny tiny print) a few times, and maybe I'd finally get the plot down. As it is, I just sort of let them wash over me, trying to read one or two a year. Each one has a moment that makes me curl up and wail with grief over the injustice of character X suffering whatever grisly fate Erikson has chosen for him. I do this very rarely for books. Also rare is my willingness to tolerate taunting for such abominable cover art (the joker who dreamt up the cover for Memories of Ice has earned my eternal wrath and The Snarling Id's very first Bad Fantasy Art Award. Yes, that man has tiger stripes. Yes, that's Canon for the series. And yes, it looks unnecessarily ridiculous).
Also trying to work up the courage to reread Game of Thrones, since apparently there's a miniseries now. (Eeee!) But more importantly: mysteries. I have been procrastinating on all my 'scholarly' reading by using frippery and Rex Stout novels. Rex Stout wrote a metric tonne of books about Nero Wolfe. I rather wish I were on Nero Wolfe's staff, because his tantrums are hysterical.
Writer's block softened, but now I am in a pickle, in which I have no idea how tightly various plot threads will be tied and how to get them to touch each other. That's all right, though... I keep telling myself it's all right, anyway.....
No new band names, but a New Blog Feature: the Obscure Large Dog Breed of the Indefinite Period of Time! The pick for this Indefinite Period of Time is the Cane Corso, an Italian mastiff-style thing that will happily tear your throat out.
It's also SO ADORABLE I'M GOING TO DIE.
Oh boy, puppy overload.
Well, this turned out longer than I thought it would, and yet I feel as though I haven't really said anything. Keep your eyes open for the next post, which will be all about Personality Tests and Other Nifty Elements.
And remember, the world hasn't ended yet!
Keep on trucking, ladies and gentlemen.
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