As the last of my tethers to the earth fall away, I cannot help but feel almost heavily as I lift off the ground. The unbearable light of flight, I guess some tortured poet somewhere might say, but words, descriptions, they all sit heavily upon the ground. As a youth I used to look skyward, but now, gently drifting farther away, I see all those below me as a fog. A gentle, benign, yet all encompassing fog, it isn’t long before I can no longer see the people, the words, the experiences, all that I could see as the human condition; none of these have any defined boundaries any longer. They all run together, as undulations in the effluvium: here is a man taking advice too literally and seeing just how much better it is to “go fly a kite”, there sits two former soul mates, eating dinner in silence, with all that they have left to say effectively stopping any real connection that they still of course share…and me.
Amidst the wonder of this new, seamless humanity that I see below, I see myself, though, that can’t be right, right? There I am however, playing by the lake, or is that me flying the kite? I almost want to stop my ascent, for a 12 story existential crisis is simply not what the doctor ordered, yet as my elevation grows in scope, so do does the disconnect from all that lay below. I look around, to my trusted companion, yet I find no one. I panic for a moment, only to remember that it is she who let loose the last of the fastenings, to unknowingly allow for the withdrawl from all that I though I knew. Gosh is it pretty up here, who would have thought?
I cannot relish the moment for too long though, for what washes over me is an intense sadness, one not befitting of the beautiful scene that lays spread so far below. As I look around, expecting for the answer to leap out from behind, what exactly I don’t know, when it hits me square between the ears: nothing. That’s what sets my head passionately a-spin, there is no one around, no one to share this beautiful moment, this moment of supreme detachment, this instant of unparalleled peace. Stories always fall short: “you had to have been there” I heard one too often. A line I have told once too often, as I think now, clinging madly to what I see, the rushes of sound, the cold snap of the wind, the pleasant numb and rosy glow that I must be exuding: even one ounce this twinkling slice of the time I call my life, I just want to take a snapshot and send it out as a Christmas card, a Hanukah card; damn, I want to send it for no reason. And as I tilt suddenly askew, my question becomes not what might happen to me, but where I might be going.
“The kairos is out there somewhere, and I can only hope I don’t lose everything that I know and love to find it. In fact, what would I do with it when it finally comes across my path?” Though for now I must push through these questions, there will be plenty of time to ask them when I become further removed from all that is common and safe. And in the meanwhile, I could just swear that was a…
Monday, January 23, 2006
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Introspect-reflect
I’ve never been a big one on cathartic blog posts: in fact, I usually abhor the idea of folks sharing their personal lives in such an open forum as cyberspace. From dating services to online self help seminars, I’ve always and firmly believed that your introspective self should stay within.
Every now and again though, I have to renege on my own ideas, especially when I cannot help but believe that someone might just benefit from the sharing of my inner ideas. It is so easy to see the ways in which everyone is different, so easy to become a stoic, or a martyr when we believe that our pain and trauma and convolution is ours uniquely, that we are alone in an uncaring universe, that the advice of our friends and loved one cannot strike the true chord that resonates with us.
As my days roll on though, I have found that the fire that drives us out of bed in the morning, the fire that fuels our passions, our loves, our lives, is one which burns within all of humanity: we are never alone, never unloved, unless in some way we choose it for ourselves. Only we can be our own worst enemy, after all, and we can only get over ourselves with a bit of personal honesty.
Personal honesty. It seems such a trivial and self-evident truth, yet we just cannot be honest with others unless we can be honest with ourselves. This involves a lot more that merely taking account of what we think is going on inside us, it is a commitment; a commitment to reflexive translucence of the ever changing facts concerning who we are and how we feel.
My feelings on privacy prevent me from going on big rubbery one in cyberspace, yet suffice to say I’ve taken a bit of shock in the past couple of days, thus bringing this little post to life. It’s just so easy to accept the status quo, no matter how unsatisfying it may be, in lieu of taking a look inside and realizing the necessary changes in our lives that must be made in order for us to continue to grow as people: to move forward at all in fact, in the horizontal backwards moving escalator that is life.
Moving forward, another surprisingly difficult truism of our lives. It’s so easy to hide behind such wit and wisdom as “Take what you like and leave the rest,” and “Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water” and even “Know thyself.” Especially “know thyself.” What does this really mean? I used to think that it involved merely being aware of the multitude of angles from which we attack the decisions which shape our lives: I believe know that it also involves making the tougher comparison of knowing who you are as contrasted with where you want to be, for knowing thyself now is only useful in the present moment, nowhere in that phrase allows for the essential characteristic of improving the condition of our lives as a living organism. While science may live in a vacuum, we do not and necessarily cannot.
What I mean is this. I have had, in the past 48 hours, feelings which have lain dormant for quite some time have run screaming to the surface of my psyche and which, I have to admit, threw me for quite a loop. What I had neglected in my inventory of self (my ontology, to be more specific), was what I managed to unconcern myself with because it wasn’t a part of my life. I’m sorry to vague, but I need to keep confidential certain info to protect the guilty and innocent alike. It did prove however, the necessity of making harsh choices in our lives, that sometimes the baby needs to go out with the bathwater for the ultimate good of ourselves.
For the one thing we really cannot control are others, and as much as we would like to say that we know them better than they know themselves (and oftentimes, we do) we can’t force them to see what is actually going on. To use a really beaten analogue “You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink.” I’ve turned down quite a bit of wise advice in my day, and my own offerings often fall on deaf ears, but I understand now truly that we also need others to help see ourselves (So to all of you who stuck by while I refused to listen, my apologies, kind world).
I guess where this is driving is the more final idea that we need to be right with ourselves, and put to hope and hope alone that those we care about will come to see the truth. I have run myself ragged over the years trying to spread glad tidings and good times to others, often at the expense of myself, and it is only now that I can see the folly in that. A lesson taught is not a lesson learned, especially when we don’t want to hear the moral that it teaches.
So as tough as it is to say, for today I have to preach a thoroughgoing “just let go.” To treat others with respect to what we know about them rather than what they know about themselves is to set ourselves up for suffering: someone really cannot be held responsible for what they don’t know is there. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t get frustrated, (for we care about these people damn it!) but all we can do is hope that when they finally come around (if they ever do), they have enough stop playing games with themselves, and especially others.
Happiness is not difficult, but it most frequently clashes with desire. I’m not entirely sure yet how to maintain both joy and desire (my Buddhist koans specifically believe that you cannot, but I think that’s a cop out), how to walk the razor thin line between care and disregard, how to love without the pain of our love’s missteps. For me, a life without desire is a life not worth living, yet a life which limits happiness in any way is almost as unsatisfactory. My life is going to make some pretty wholesale changes shortly, so all of those out there who worry that the rut that they are in is a permanent endeavor can take heart: it really doesn’t matter who you are or what makes you suffer and long for, you are in command of your own journey. When you can look inside and try to find every fiber of your being, past, present and future, then truly, to use another analogy, the world is your oyster.
Every now and again though, I have to renege on my own ideas, especially when I cannot help but believe that someone might just benefit from the sharing of my inner ideas. It is so easy to see the ways in which everyone is different, so easy to become a stoic, or a martyr when we believe that our pain and trauma and convolution is ours uniquely, that we are alone in an uncaring universe, that the advice of our friends and loved one cannot strike the true chord that resonates with us.
As my days roll on though, I have found that the fire that drives us out of bed in the morning, the fire that fuels our passions, our loves, our lives, is one which burns within all of humanity: we are never alone, never unloved, unless in some way we choose it for ourselves. Only we can be our own worst enemy, after all, and we can only get over ourselves with a bit of personal honesty.
Personal honesty. It seems such a trivial and self-evident truth, yet we just cannot be honest with others unless we can be honest with ourselves. This involves a lot more that merely taking account of what we think is going on inside us, it is a commitment; a commitment to reflexive translucence of the ever changing facts concerning who we are and how we feel.
My feelings on privacy prevent me from going on big rubbery one in cyberspace, yet suffice to say I’ve taken a bit of shock in the past couple of days, thus bringing this little post to life. It’s just so easy to accept the status quo, no matter how unsatisfying it may be, in lieu of taking a look inside and realizing the necessary changes in our lives that must be made in order for us to continue to grow as people: to move forward at all in fact, in the horizontal backwards moving escalator that is life.
Moving forward, another surprisingly difficult truism of our lives. It’s so easy to hide behind such wit and wisdom as “Take what you like and leave the rest,” and “Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water” and even “Know thyself.” Especially “know thyself.” What does this really mean? I used to think that it involved merely being aware of the multitude of angles from which we attack the decisions which shape our lives: I believe know that it also involves making the tougher comparison of knowing who you are as contrasted with where you want to be, for knowing thyself now is only useful in the present moment, nowhere in that phrase allows for the essential characteristic of improving the condition of our lives as a living organism. While science may live in a vacuum, we do not and necessarily cannot.
What I mean is this. I have had, in the past 48 hours, feelings which have lain dormant for quite some time have run screaming to the surface of my psyche and which, I have to admit, threw me for quite a loop. What I had neglected in my inventory of self (my ontology, to be more specific), was what I managed to unconcern myself with because it wasn’t a part of my life. I’m sorry to vague, but I need to keep confidential certain info to protect the guilty and innocent alike. It did prove however, the necessity of making harsh choices in our lives, that sometimes the baby needs to go out with the bathwater for the ultimate good of ourselves.
For the one thing we really cannot control are others, and as much as we would like to say that we know them better than they know themselves (and oftentimes, we do) we can’t force them to see what is actually going on. To use a really beaten analogue “You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink.” I’ve turned down quite a bit of wise advice in my day, and my own offerings often fall on deaf ears, but I understand now truly that we also need others to help see ourselves (So to all of you who stuck by while I refused to listen, my apologies, kind world).
I guess where this is driving is the more final idea that we need to be right with ourselves, and put to hope and hope alone that those we care about will come to see the truth. I have run myself ragged over the years trying to spread glad tidings and good times to others, often at the expense of myself, and it is only now that I can see the folly in that. A lesson taught is not a lesson learned, especially when we don’t want to hear the moral that it teaches.
So as tough as it is to say, for today I have to preach a thoroughgoing “just let go.” To treat others with respect to what we know about them rather than what they know about themselves is to set ourselves up for suffering: someone really cannot be held responsible for what they don’t know is there. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t get frustrated, (for we care about these people damn it!) but all we can do is hope that when they finally come around (if they ever do), they have enough stop playing games with themselves, and especially others.
Happiness is not difficult, but it most frequently clashes with desire. I’m not entirely sure yet how to maintain both joy and desire (my Buddhist koans specifically believe that you cannot, but I think that’s a cop out), how to walk the razor thin line between care and disregard, how to love without the pain of our love’s missteps. For me, a life without desire is a life not worth living, yet a life which limits happiness in any way is almost as unsatisfactory. My life is going to make some pretty wholesale changes shortly, so all of those out there who worry that the rut that they are in is a permanent endeavor can take heart: it really doesn’t matter who you are or what makes you suffer and long for, you are in command of your own journey. When you can look inside and try to find every fiber of your being, past, present and future, then truly, to use another analogy, the world is your oyster.
Friday, January 13, 2006
I call shenanigans!
I would normally have more to say about a beautiful Stella Award winner but I truly believe that this is explanation enough that things have gotten out of control. This black and white mentality that either threatens to or currently is polarizing this country has led a judge to be absurd, a mentally ill woman to threaten to break talk show hosts' legs in a court of law and get away with it. Bullocks to the whole business...
Dating back to his days at NBC, before he moved to CBS in 1993, late-night talk show host David Letterman was plagued by a persistent stalker.Margaret Mary Ray became the subject of headlines and the brunt of morethan a few jokes with her activities over the course of a decade, whichincluded breaking into Letterman's Connecticut home, stealing his car andintroducing herself to a highway toll-taker as his wife.
Before she knelt in front of an oncoming train in western Colorado in1998 to end her life, she had spent 10 months in prison and 14 months ina mental institution for stalking Letterman -- and had moved on tostalking astronaut Story Musgrave.
Colleen Nestler, too, fantasizes a special connection with Letterman.In December 2005, though, that imaginary relationship soured, at least inher mind. Nestler, 59, sought a temporary restraining order, contendingthat Letterman harmed her with "bankruptcy [sic], mental cruelty andsleep deprivation" continuously since 1994, a period during which shelived in New Jersey, Brooklyn, N.Y., Camden, Maine, and finally Santa Fe,N.M.
She checked off options on a form filed in New Mexico's First JudicialDistrict Court in Santa Fe to request that the TV personality be requiredto stay "at least 3 yards away" from her; not "threaten, harm, alarm orannoy" her or her family members; not block her in public places; and not(image placeholder)phone or contact her.
She additionally requested in her own handwriting that Letterman beordered not to "Think of me, and RELEASE ME from his mental harassment &hammering" (her emphasis).
The relationship she has concocted in her mind did not involvedelusions of phone calls or encounters in the physical world. It involvesmessages she contends Letterman communicated to her in code via his showafter he moved from NBC to CBS in 1993 to host "The Late Show With DavidLetterman" -- coded messages he sent to her, she said in her courtfiling, during every single show.
Among those "messages" she claims Letterman conveyed was a proposal ofmarriage when Letterman uttered, during a teaser for his show, "Marry me,Oprah" -- referring to her by "the first of many code names," inNestler's mind, rather than referring to daytime talk show host OprahWinfrey.
In a six-page, typewritten chronology of their "relationship," which,as she relates it, began when she was married and living in Nevada,Nestler holds Letterman responsible as the "root cause" of her slide intobankruptcy. She contends Letterman used words, "jestures" and "eyeexpressions" -- and even the songs of guests on his show -- to send hermessages and respond to her, and to urge her to train as his co-host. Shefurther describes following Letterman's coded instructions, includingstaying awake through the night to watch other TV shows at his behest andmoving to New York, only to receive the brush-off when he did not contacther at her hotel room or take her when he went on a Caribbean vacation.
Her story also ensnares Regis Philbin, Kathie Lee Gifford and"Frasier" star Kelsey Grammer, all of whom, she writes, also communicatedwith her through the TV and knew of her "relationship" with Letterman.
(image placeholder)But while Ray's delusions got her incarcerated, the judge in Nestler'scase has taken a different approach. Rather than do anything to try todiscourage her and thereby protect Letterman from yet another stalker, Judge Daniel Sanchez instead affirmed her delusions by granting herrequest and issuing a restraining order.
Sanchez signed the order prohibiting Letterman from contacting her andrequiring him to stay away from her -- all of which, no doubt, Lettermanwould have no difficulty abiding by. The judge also directed the TV starto appear for a hearing later on whether to make the restraining orderpermanent, although Sanchez granted a motion by Letterman's attorneys foran expedited hearing.
Letterman's lawyers, understandably, want to quash the restrainingorder. Jim Jackoway, his Los Angeles attorney, calls the charges inNestler's complaint "obviously absurd and frivolous" and "an unfortunateabuse of the judicial process."
"While Ms. Nestler may deserve compassion and assistance, allowing herto bring claims against Mr. Letterman is not in her interests or theinterests of justice," Letterman's attorneys said in their motionchallenging the restraining order. "Celebrities deserve protection oftheir reputation and legal rights when the occasional fan becomesdangerous or deluded."
The judge's move also has concerned at least one advocate for thementally ill.
Ginny Wilson, a Santa Fe representative for the National Alliance forthe Mentally Ill, won't criticize Sanchez, but says she wants to use thissituation as an opportunity to educate people about the signs ofpsychological problems. She calls Nestler's application "fantastical."
"It's obvious in [the] story that the judge has made a mistake," shesays. "And [now] other judges or lawyers can see that a lapse in judgment(image placeholder)can put a person in a public situation that could be dangerous for her.Maybe it will help a judge to recognize when a mentally ill person isattacking an organization or an individual out of their delusions."
Sanchez says he doesn't sign every temporary restraining order thatcomes before him, but will sign one when it's warranted.
"If they make a proper pleading, then I grant it," he said.
Perhaps, then, the judge has some delusions of his own.
In a follow-up hearing, Nestler said in court that "Should [Letterman] ever come to New Mexico -- and let it be recorded in this court -- if hecomes near me or sends someone on his behalf, I will break their legs andestablish proof of my story."
"Break their legs?" asked a shocked Judge Sanchez, finally waking up.
"Yes, I will," Nestler said. "It's the only recourse I have fortangible proof." Told to not make threats in court, Nestler continued,"It's not a threat. I'm saying it mainly because I want the court to knowI tried to avoid this. The man has plans to include me in his plans, andI refuse."
A plan to include her in his plans? Now that's planning!
"Who's to stop him from taking a flight here?" she continued. "Who'sto stop him from dressing up in some disguise? He has intentions with me.He constantly harasses me. He's a very powerful man. He's into mindcontrol. He's into control and manipulation."
Has he ever contacted her? Sanchez asked.
"He has called just to remind me to think of him by calling andhanging up," she said. "It's a trick he's done. He will use any device athis hand that's subtle and undetectable by any court of law."
With that, Sanchez had finally had enough and voided his previous(image placeholder)restraining order. It was in force for about two weeks.
2 freakin' weeks? A judge gave that woman restraining order? That's why I gotta call shenanigans, there is no way some judge would be that stupid. Seriously, say that people are getting dumber but that takes the cake and shares none with others. I say that there is something more sinister going on and I refuse to point fingers until I know for sure, but I might just have to devote more time to it. I think one of the causes is most likely disillusionment coupled with misdirection. Any ideas just let me know, but don't worry we can get through this mismanagement of humanity, just as we have countless times before.
Dating back to his days at NBC, before he moved to CBS in 1993, late-night talk show host David Letterman was plagued by a persistent stalker.Margaret Mary Ray became the subject of headlines and the brunt of morethan a few jokes with her activities over the course of a decade, whichincluded breaking into Letterman's Connecticut home, stealing his car andintroducing herself to a highway toll-taker as his wife.
Before she knelt in front of an oncoming train in western Colorado in1998 to end her life, she had spent 10 months in prison and 14 months ina mental institution for stalking Letterman -- and had moved on tostalking astronaut Story Musgrave.
Colleen Nestler, too, fantasizes a special connection with Letterman.In December 2005, though, that imaginary relationship soured, at least inher mind. Nestler, 59, sought a temporary restraining order, contendingthat Letterman harmed her with "bankruptcy [sic], mental cruelty andsleep deprivation" continuously since 1994, a period during which shelived in New Jersey, Brooklyn, N.Y., Camden, Maine, and finally Santa Fe,N.M.
She checked off options on a form filed in New Mexico's First JudicialDistrict Court in Santa Fe to request that the TV personality be requiredto stay "at least 3 yards away" from her; not "threaten, harm, alarm orannoy" her or her family members; not block her in public places; and not(image placeholder)phone or contact her.
She additionally requested in her own handwriting that Letterman beordered not to "Think of me, and RELEASE ME from his mental harassment &hammering" (her emphasis).
The relationship she has concocted in her mind did not involvedelusions of phone calls or encounters in the physical world. It involvesmessages she contends Letterman communicated to her in code via his showafter he moved from NBC to CBS in 1993 to host "The Late Show With DavidLetterman" -- coded messages he sent to her, she said in her courtfiling, during every single show.
Among those "messages" she claims Letterman conveyed was a proposal ofmarriage when Letterman uttered, during a teaser for his show, "Marry me,Oprah" -- referring to her by "the first of many code names," inNestler's mind, rather than referring to daytime talk show host OprahWinfrey.
In a six-page, typewritten chronology of their "relationship," which,as she relates it, began when she was married and living in Nevada,Nestler holds Letterman responsible as the "root cause" of her slide intobankruptcy. She contends Letterman used words, "jestures" and "eyeexpressions" -- and even the songs of guests on his show -- to send hermessages and respond to her, and to urge her to train as his co-host. Shefurther describes following Letterman's coded instructions, includingstaying awake through the night to watch other TV shows at his behest andmoving to New York, only to receive the brush-off when he did not contacther at her hotel room or take her when he went on a Caribbean vacation.
Her story also ensnares Regis Philbin, Kathie Lee Gifford and"Frasier" star Kelsey Grammer, all of whom, she writes, also communicatedwith her through the TV and knew of her "relationship" with Letterman.
(image placeholder)But while Ray's delusions got her incarcerated, the judge in Nestler'scase has taken a different approach. Rather than do anything to try todiscourage her and thereby protect Letterman from yet another stalker, Judge Daniel Sanchez instead affirmed her delusions by granting herrequest and issuing a restraining order.
Sanchez signed the order prohibiting Letterman from contacting her andrequiring him to stay away from her -- all of which, no doubt, Lettermanwould have no difficulty abiding by. The judge also directed the TV starto appear for a hearing later on whether to make the restraining orderpermanent, although Sanchez granted a motion by Letterman's attorneys foran expedited hearing.
Letterman's lawyers, understandably, want to quash the restrainingorder. Jim Jackoway, his Los Angeles attorney, calls the charges inNestler's complaint "obviously absurd and frivolous" and "an unfortunateabuse of the judicial process."
"While Ms. Nestler may deserve compassion and assistance, allowing herto bring claims against Mr. Letterman is not in her interests or theinterests of justice," Letterman's attorneys said in their motionchallenging the restraining order. "Celebrities deserve protection oftheir reputation and legal rights when the occasional fan becomesdangerous or deluded."
The judge's move also has concerned at least one advocate for thementally ill.
Ginny Wilson, a Santa Fe representative for the National Alliance forthe Mentally Ill, won't criticize Sanchez, but says she wants to use thissituation as an opportunity to educate people about the signs ofpsychological problems. She calls Nestler's application "fantastical."
"It's obvious in [the] story that the judge has made a mistake," shesays. "And [now] other judges or lawyers can see that a lapse in judgment(image placeholder)can put a person in a public situation that could be dangerous for her.Maybe it will help a judge to recognize when a mentally ill person isattacking an organization or an individual out of their delusions."
Sanchez says he doesn't sign every temporary restraining order thatcomes before him, but will sign one when it's warranted.
"If they make a proper pleading, then I grant it," he said.
Perhaps, then, the judge has some delusions of his own.
In a follow-up hearing, Nestler said in court that "Should [Letterman] ever come to New Mexico -- and let it be recorded in this court -- if hecomes near me or sends someone on his behalf, I will break their legs andestablish proof of my story."
"Break their legs?" asked a shocked Judge Sanchez, finally waking up.
"Yes, I will," Nestler said. "It's the only recourse I have fortangible proof." Told to not make threats in court, Nestler continued,"It's not a threat. I'm saying it mainly because I want the court to knowI tried to avoid this. The man has plans to include me in his plans, andI refuse."
A plan to include her in his plans? Now that's planning!
"Who's to stop him from taking a flight here?" she continued. "Who'sto stop him from dressing up in some disguise? He has intentions with me.He constantly harasses me. He's a very powerful man. He's into mindcontrol. He's into control and manipulation."
Has he ever contacted her? Sanchez asked.
"He has called just to remind me to think of him by calling andhanging up," she said. "It's a trick he's done. He will use any device athis hand that's subtle and undetectable by any court of law."
With that, Sanchez had finally had enough and voided his previous(image placeholder)restraining order. It was in force for about two weeks.
2 freakin' weeks? A judge gave that woman restraining order? That's why I gotta call shenanigans, there is no way some judge would be that stupid. Seriously, say that people are getting dumber but that takes the cake and shares none with others. I say that there is something more sinister going on and I refuse to point fingers until I know for sure, but I might just have to devote more time to it. I think one of the causes is most likely disillusionment coupled with misdirection. Any ideas just let me know, but don't worry we can get through this mismanagement of humanity, just as we have countless times before.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Castle-builder extraordinaire
You know, through the haze of relaxation after a long days work, a thought popped into my mind, and I can’t help but say that it stuck. Mind you, this was one of those quickly fleeing ideas of dubious base, one of those notions where upon waking the only utterance that fits was “This seemed like a good idea.”
Not in way that college lets us bandy it about, more of a fugacious (quickly withering) potential conceit that perhaps we should turn our sights to one of the basic characteristics of humanity: the complex. Now, we all most likely have a couple, and for sure most can recognize it in others, but for salience sake I would like to say that the existence of our neuroses is tenuous at best. As any $19.99 self help book would attest (I would imagine, at least) who we are is some metaphysical spirit self who nurtures all of our positive qualities, while living freely of the negative qualities that people gossip about at the water cooler. Now I couldn’t help but think if who we are involves the things that we betray ourselves about (i.e. “I just need to show the world how ______ I am”) is who we are we are inevitably destined for failure.
What I want to propose instead is perhaps a better way of gauging who we are is by who we want to be. I don’t want to insinuate that the dreamers who dreams have no root in reality are the compass by which we should guide ourselves, but for isn’t it in striving rather than correcting that we learn all the lessons we need to? I don’t know if I am just way behind the cool kids on this one, but is the better barometer where you are going then where you have been?
I wouldn’t bring this up except for my further forays into the corporate and ‘real world’ have taught me that my coworkers and contemporaries like to occasionally treat themselves to a fit of self-abuse. From the folks that I trained with (we dropped from eight to four in a mere three days; I would imagine that there is more to follow) to the old salt on 2 weeks notice, I heard quite a bit about how most endeavors of both my employer and the position I was learning were just some big corporate scheme and how this job would ruin me and how they couldn’t hack it and why everyone they talked to was a big ol’ tool shed and so on.
What were they thinking about? What was wrong with the whole big thing rather than what could be right about the same enterprise. Turns out the next day I ran into some folk who like to think about where they were going to go…I heard nothing about how damnedly evil my employ was, rather how much sweet extra cash they were raking in. And I too partook in that sweet cash.
So after much rambling, I guess I am trying to say that attitude is dependent upon aspiration and aspiration is the measure of that which we truly are and who we present ourselves to the world to be. If you had to choose, would you prefer someone who wanted to fix what was wrong or one who might plunge (how headlong is up to personal discretion and inclination) into where he/she might be going? I guess I think you should hug your friendly local dreamer or, equally as excellent in my book, hug the kid who knows what he/she wants: I really believe that inspiration is created only through those who dare to look towards the future. I don’t know, the whole not what we are-what we ought to be thing. Now looking ahead I see some rest: I want to try to fly somewhere in REM tonight – stay tuned.
Not in way that college lets us bandy it about, more of a fugacious (quickly withering) potential conceit that perhaps we should turn our sights to one of the basic characteristics of humanity: the complex. Now, we all most likely have a couple, and for sure most can recognize it in others, but for salience sake I would like to say that the existence of our neuroses is tenuous at best. As any $19.99 self help book would attest (I would imagine, at least) who we are is some metaphysical spirit self who nurtures all of our positive qualities, while living freely of the negative qualities that people gossip about at the water cooler. Now I couldn’t help but think if who we are involves the things that we betray ourselves about (i.e. “I just need to show the world how ______ I am”) is who we are we are inevitably destined for failure.
What I want to propose instead is perhaps a better way of gauging who we are is by who we want to be. I don’t want to insinuate that the dreamers who dreams have no root in reality are the compass by which we should guide ourselves, but for isn’t it in striving rather than correcting that we learn all the lessons we need to? I don’t know if I am just way behind the cool kids on this one, but is the better barometer where you are going then where you have been?
I wouldn’t bring this up except for my further forays into the corporate and ‘real world’ have taught me that my coworkers and contemporaries like to occasionally treat themselves to a fit of self-abuse. From the folks that I trained with (we dropped from eight to four in a mere three days; I would imagine that there is more to follow) to the old salt on 2 weeks notice, I heard quite a bit about how most endeavors of both my employer and the position I was learning were just some big corporate scheme and how this job would ruin me and how they couldn’t hack it and why everyone they talked to was a big ol’ tool shed and so on.
What were they thinking about? What was wrong with the whole big thing rather than what could be right about the same enterprise. Turns out the next day I ran into some folk who like to think about where they were going to go…I heard nothing about how damnedly evil my employ was, rather how much sweet extra cash they were raking in. And I too partook in that sweet cash.
So after much rambling, I guess I am trying to say that attitude is dependent upon aspiration and aspiration is the measure of that which we truly are and who we present ourselves to the world to be. If you had to choose, would you prefer someone who wanted to fix what was wrong or one who might plunge (how headlong is up to personal discretion and inclination) into where he/she might be going? I guess I think you should hug your friendly local dreamer or, equally as excellent in my book, hug the kid who knows what he/she wants: I really believe that inspiration is created only through those who dare to look towards the future. I don’t know, the whole not what we are-what we ought to be thing. Now looking ahead I see some rest: I want to try to fly somewhere in REM tonight – stay tuned.
Friday, January 06, 2006
Rides and Riders
Rollercoasters and Merry-go-rounds. I just can’t help but to admit that I both love and hate the little amusements: they’re fantastic when drunk reliving my youth at Cooney Island or the Great Escape or your nearest 6 flags, but I truly and thoroughly despise the other, more insidious kind. You know, I never really appreciated the subtlety of those two little phrases when it comes to our personal lives, yet they ring so true: neither go anywhere fast, but the former at least has some peaks and valleys to keep it interesting, and goes nowhere a lot faster than its latter little cousin. More importantly though, through it all I’ve come to be aware that we don’t actually get to the point of making some lame metaphor (or simile, depending on context) without first making some choices (decisions might actually be better) which fly in the face of our good sense and intuition.
Whew, glad to get that out. But aside from figuring out the nuances of carnival comparisons, it’s really hit home as of late that each alternative we decide to take we should do so with the utmost care. I say this not from current personal experience (though the past few months did help bring the notion to the front of my mind) and the position that the choices we make mostly always carry with them hidden implications that we can only sort out long after they have become an entrenched part of our psyche.
I could use really personal, deep rooted ideas, the paradigms that have been the prime movers in turning me into who I am today. I could do all that, but in the publicity of cyberspace I would also be that kid who’s throwing his heart out on his sleeve for people who he doesn’t even know. NOPE. If you want that, and care enough to know, drop me a line (and if the readership of this gets large enough, I might consider it too). Instead I will use the generic abusive relationship, either mentally or physically. Most of the folks I have talked to about f&^$*d relationships of this nature have always used the same reasons: “I love him/her,” “I just don’t know what I would do without him/her,”
“We’re soul mates,” that kind of thing. Aside from the fact that this is maddeningly codependent, think for a moment of the implicit assumptions behind such statements. What they are in effect saying is, respectively “I cannot love another like I love him/her (lies),” “Without them I am less of a person (fuck that, you can’t be any less or more than yourself),” and “Even though we have a lot of problems, through the powers of habit and perhaps a shared interest or two I have decided to cling to this thing running with the notion that I will never find someone else who makes me happy,” and so on.
Although the importance of smoothing out this little quirk of thought is self evident, I cannot help but go on. I have see relationships of this type turn self-confident, outgoing members of the populace into shells of their former selves: those same people forgetting why they start fooling around with their preferred gender in the first place. What they missed along the way was the implicit assumption that they are in some way not good enough: not good enough to be loved (by anyone), not good enough to make someone else happy.
Basically the idea is that these people are somehow less than themselves, incomplete without an external force. This can include the misuse of drugs and other inebriants, sex, food, decisions of a particular type, and so on. I would never say that we should give up these things: hell, I love them all. But if one is not secure in the reasons why then they are unaware of the what that is going on. I realized that some of my least liked traits began in grade school, for Christ sakes. It is a different thing to believe that you know yourself, and quite another to actually know who you are (which never changes except through dedicated effort to yourself, it doesn’t come from any external source). I’ve just hit critical mass with friends and contemporaries wasting their talents on things and people that drag them down. Our genome determines how good each of us can potentially be, we don’t need ourselves to make things more difficult.
Whew, glad to get that out. But aside from figuring out the nuances of carnival comparisons, it’s really hit home as of late that each alternative we decide to take we should do so with the utmost care. I say this not from current personal experience (though the past few months did help bring the notion to the front of my mind) and the position that the choices we make mostly always carry with them hidden implications that we can only sort out long after they have become an entrenched part of our psyche.
I could use really personal, deep rooted ideas, the paradigms that have been the prime movers in turning me into who I am today. I could do all that, but in the publicity of cyberspace I would also be that kid who’s throwing his heart out on his sleeve for people who he doesn’t even know. NOPE. If you want that, and care enough to know, drop me a line (and if the readership of this gets large enough, I might consider it too). Instead I will use the generic abusive relationship, either mentally or physically. Most of the folks I have talked to about f&^$*d relationships of this nature have always used the same reasons: “I love him/her,” “I just don’t know what I would do without him/her,”
“We’re soul mates,” that kind of thing. Aside from the fact that this is maddeningly codependent, think for a moment of the implicit assumptions behind such statements. What they are in effect saying is, respectively “I cannot love another like I love him/her (lies),” “Without them I am less of a person (fuck that, you can’t be any less or more than yourself),” and “Even though we have a lot of problems, through the powers of habit and perhaps a shared interest or two I have decided to cling to this thing running with the notion that I will never find someone else who makes me happy,” and so on.
Although the importance of smoothing out this little quirk of thought is self evident, I cannot help but go on. I have see relationships of this type turn self-confident, outgoing members of the populace into shells of their former selves: those same people forgetting why they start fooling around with their preferred gender in the first place. What they missed along the way was the implicit assumption that they are in some way not good enough: not good enough to be loved (by anyone), not good enough to make someone else happy.
Basically the idea is that these people are somehow less than themselves, incomplete without an external force. This can include the misuse of drugs and other inebriants, sex, food, decisions of a particular type, and so on. I would never say that we should give up these things: hell, I love them all. But if one is not secure in the reasons why then they are unaware of the what that is going on. I realized that some of my least liked traits began in grade school, for Christ sakes. It is a different thing to believe that you know yourself, and quite another to actually know who you are (which never changes except through dedicated effort to yourself, it doesn’t come from any external source). I’ve just hit critical mass with friends and contemporaries wasting their talents on things and people that drag them down. Our genome determines how good each of us can potentially be, we don’t need ourselves to make things more difficult.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Blame the Praetorians
The idea of religion has always struck a pretty off chord in my book. From the idea of hell to tithing to the widespread corruption and NAMBLA-esque behavior of those in authority, I (and all you wonderful contemporaries) have grown up in a time where religion is not only inessential but downright repulsive. As of late however, I cannot help but see the reasons not only for the existence of the various religions, but spiritual schemes in general. Now don’t think that good ol’ IJB has found God or anything like that, but I guess I have recently become aware that the various religious doctrines and spiritual systems have the benefit of a broad reaching ethic that actually does do what it is intended: to allow a system of behavior which escapes the necessary contextualization of behavior in the natural ethic that “good” people must follow who do not have such rules of behavior to fall back on.
First though, I have to say that religion stands on very tumultuous ground for me. Born and raised in Catholic School (all 12 years bitches!), I learned not God’s love, but how to become a consumer: of sex, drugs and rock and roll. Most of the religious people I knew throughout that “education,” in fact, most of the religious types I meet today, could never give me a better explanation for faith other than “Well JC says…” or “...because the Bible…” which is of course just ridiculous: conventional wisdom is what produced the Crusades, the systematic torture and murder of dissenting views and so on (I think the horse is dead and properly flogged). But underneath all of the dogma and mental retardation of those who practice, I realized the other day that I just can no longer ignore the ‘point’ of what all those folks have been violently fighting about, that is, the theoretical ideas for behavior that underlie all religions: the common denominator for how to live our lives.
What I neglected to remember though is the notion that perhaps I do not have it all figured out. For example, we are often left with two diametrically opposed ideas for how to deal with others – ‘stand up for yourself’ and ‘just let it go’. Now we all suffer from the interplay of these two, and when we don’t apply it properly we end up thinking of both ourselves and others as “bitches’ or ‘doormats’ and having some regrets (often once cooler heads prevail) that perhaps we could have handled this situation with a little more compassion and tact, and a little less defensiveness or whatever. Now who has said something to the effect of “Be kind to your neighbor” or “Spread compassion only throughout the world”? That’s right, Jesus and the Buddha.
And to be honest, in my years of Catholic training I have never once found a “kill others who do not believe your faith” or “you must extort money from your parishioners,” in the Bible. In my Buddhist studies not one koan said “We must oppress the rights of others in order to maintain order,” and so on. What do they say? Well, read some spiritual texts and find out, but if we all are to espouse the positive ideals that these people wrote about, well, I’m pretty sure the world would in fact be a better place. (Think of Jesus going psycho in the marketplace, consumers take note).
The point is that I really believe that I (as well as many, many others) have put the cart before the horse. We don’t hate religion, we hate the people who prove how well it works. We hate dogma, but since when is being kind to others and forgiving them for most of the mean, thoughtless, generally human things they do a problem? I don’t like Church, but in theory, how much more do we pay to go Disneyworld for a few jollies (the buck or two that’s put in the basket pales in comparison to the $2.50 water or the $7 mutant turkey leg, simple economics) than to hang out with some like minded folks and have bake sales? My call then is this: while religion in practice may no longer relevant, the principles and ideas behind them still hold true.
In the end, when Jehovah’s show up at my door, I still tell them I worship all that is dark and macabre, and send them on their way. I still argue with priests when I run into them, as should all folks. I still rag on folks that spend time at the Word of Life (such hot folks, but such a cult – yea Upstate!), but these systems of spirituality are still great for the occasional alternate viewpoint on a given troubling situation. All in all, when we have qualms, we must above all make sure exactly what it is we have a problem with.
First though, I have to say that religion stands on very tumultuous ground for me. Born and raised in Catholic School (all 12 years bitches!), I learned not God’s love, but how to become a consumer: of sex, drugs and rock and roll. Most of the religious people I knew throughout that “education,” in fact, most of the religious types I meet today, could never give me a better explanation for faith other than “Well JC says…” or “...because the Bible…” which is of course just ridiculous: conventional wisdom is what produced the Crusades, the systematic torture and murder of dissenting views and so on (I think the horse is dead and properly flogged). But underneath all of the dogma and mental retardation of those who practice, I realized the other day that I just can no longer ignore the ‘point’ of what all those folks have been violently fighting about, that is, the theoretical ideas for behavior that underlie all religions: the common denominator for how to live our lives.
What I neglected to remember though is the notion that perhaps I do not have it all figured out. For example, we are often left with two diametrically opposed ideas for how to deal with others – ‘stand up for yourself’ and ‘just let it go’. Now we all suffer from the interplay of these two, and when we don’t apply it properly we end up thinking of both ourselves and others as “bitches’ or ‘doormats’ and having some regrets (often once cooler heads prevail) that perhaps we could have handled this situation with a little more compassion and tact, and a little less defensiveness or whatever. Now who has said something to the effect of “Be kind to your neighbor” or “Spread compassion only throughout the world”? That’s right, Jesus and the Buddha.
And to be honest, in my years of Catholic training I have never once found a “kill others who do not believe your faith” or “you must extort money from your parishioners,” in the Bible. In my Buddhist studies not one koan said “We must oppress the rights of others in order to maintain order,” and so on. What do they say? Well, read some spiritual texts and find out, but if we all are to espouse the positive ideals that these people wrote about, well, I’m pretty sure the world would in fact be a better place. (Think of Jesus going psycho in the marketplace, consumers take note).
The point is that I really believe that I (as well as many, many others) have put the cart before the horse. We don’t hate religion, we hate the people who prove how well it works. We hate dogma, but since when is being kind to others and forgiving them for most of the mean, thoughtless, generally human things they do a problem? I don’t like Church, but in theory, how much more do we pay to go Disneyworld for a few jollies (the buck or two that’s put in the basket pales in comparison to the $2.50 water or the $7 mutant turkey leg, simple economics) than to hang out with some like minded folks and have bake sales? My call then is this: while religion in practice may no longer relevant, the principles and ideas behind them still hold true.
In the end, when Jehovah’s show up at my door, I still tell them I worship all that is dark and macabre, and send them on their way. I still argue with priests when I run into them, as should all folks. I still rag on folks that spend time at the Word of Life (such hot folks, but such a cult – yea Upstate!), but these systems of spirituality are still great for the occasional alternate viewpoint on a given troubling situation. All in all, when we have qualms, we must above all make sure exactly what it is we have a problem with.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Somnolence
Every time I take a long absence from the world of blogs, online communities and whatever else I might end up in I always have a problem getting back into some sort of groove to get my ideas out in a way that other folks might see and enjoy them. I’ve found that any sort of artistic endeavor, essentially anything that is “Productive” in the abstract sense of the word, is completely unlike learning to ride a bike. In fact, it seems that the ability to learn new tricks, be they writing something relevant on your blog post, learning that sweet Zepp solo you’ve always wanted to come from your fingers, whatever, wants to leave your abilities as soon as you learn them. I used to get pretty teed off about this sort of happening, until I noticed that this revealed a trait about humanity that I did not expect: we are actually set up to be creatures of habit, hard wired to abhor change, even for the better.
I know that sounds kinda weird, but think about it. From abusive relationships to getting fit, our bodies are set up to fight us every step of the way: why do you think you are so good at failing? That aside, what benefit might we gain from being so damn stubborn when it comes to ourselves? Wouldn’t evolution (or whatever is actually going on) actually entail and promote change in order for species to best evolve to their surroundings?
I’m learning that the resounding answer is Hell No! Although I am not as sure of the details of Darwin’s theory as I should be, I have come to see recently that what nature wants is a static equilibrium, homeostasis if you will, in which it doesn’t need to evolve or adapt anymore. Just like the human body, which is functioning best (biology admits this) when nothing is changing: the balance of chemicals and nutrients is exactly what your body is looking to receive and so on. There is no room is homeostasis for exercise, for learning new skill, for completing anything out the ordinary. All told, nature is a really lazy sonofabitch.
What worries me however is that as natural creatures with the fun bonus of rationality, this loafing quality of nature infests our minds as well as our bodies. I mean, in the search for a reason why we so enjoy doing ostensibly nothing but sit on the couch and worry about when we are going to turn off the TV I have come to find that, God (or whatever) damn it, we are hard wired that way!
Now the last thing I want to give anyone a reason for underachieving (if we know each other, we’ve probably come up with plenty between us), but what I call for is for all you folks who get so ramped up about how their passions do not some to fruition TODAY is to chill out. Seriously, calm down, because while our minds carry in them the potential for infinite creativity and potential, we are limited by our deadbeat bodies. Now I’m not sure of the nature of the relationship between the two things is, but I know that it is only through hours and hours of repetition that we trick ourselves into believing, through practice, that our new activity is something we have always done and were meant to continue doing.
I really wish that I could add something more productive to the whole thing than “lighten up, we just aren’t that good at learning and thought” and in time, I will. At least I want to take a look at a biological cause of the mendicant side of our nature. So yes, that means that in addition to the neuroses that we manage to give ourselves we also have to deal with a physicality which loves our neuroses and prefers them to the labors of change.
I will get to the bottom of all this, if I have to one day burn through a PhD or two to do it. As per my own advice, I’m gonna have to fight a bit with my own mental and physical somnolence until I get to the bottom of how we can be so good to others and so terrible to ourselves. In the meanwhile though, I have a loftier goal, and that is to win the Nobel Prize, the Nobel Prize in Blogging. So let me know how I’m doing, 'cause it’s hard to get those in charge to take notice. A bientot.
I know that sounds kinda weird, but think about it. From abusive relationships to getting fit, our bodies are set up to fight us every step of the way: why do you think you are so good at failing? That aside, what benefit might we gain from being so damn stubborn when it comes to ourselves? Wouldn’t evolution (or whatever is actually going on) actually entail and promote change in order for species to best evolve to their surroundings?
I’m learning that the resounding answer is Hell No! Although I am not as sure of the details of Darwin’s theory as I should be, I have come to see recently that what nature wants is a static equilibrium, homeostasis if you will, in which it doesn’t need to evolve or adapt anymore. Just like the human body, which is functioning best (biology admits this) when nothing is changing: the balance of chemicals and nutrients is exactly what your body is looking to receive and so on. There is no room is homeostasis for exercise, for learning new skill, for completing anything out the ordinary. All told, nature is a really lazy sonofabitch.
What worries me however is that as natural creatures with the fun bonus of rationality, this loafing quality of nature infests our minds as well as our bodies. I mean, in the search for a reason why we so enjoy doing ostensibly nothing but sit on the couch and worry about when we are going to turn off the TV I have come to find that, God (or whatever) damn it, we are hard wired that way!
Now the last thing I want to give anyone a reason for underachieving (if we know each other, we’ve probably come up with plenty between us), but what I call for is for all you folks who get so ramped up about how their passions do not some to fruition TODAY is to chill out. Seriously, calm down, because while our minds carry in them the potential for infinite creativity and potential, we are limited by our deadbeat bodies. Now I’m not sure of the nature of the relationship between the two things is, but I know that it is only through hours and hours of repetition that we trick ourselves into believing, through practice, that our new activity is something we have always done and were meant to continue doing.
I really wish that I could add something more productive to the whole thing than “lighten up, we just aren’t that good at learning and thought” and in time, I will. At least I want to take a look at a biological cause of the mendicant side of our nature. So yes, that means that in addition to the neuroses that we manage to give ourselves we also have to deal with a physicality which loves our neuroses and prefers them to the labors of change.
I will get to the bottom of all this, if I have to one day burn through a PhD or two to do it. As per my own advice, I’m gonna have to fight a bit with my own mental and physical somnolence until I get to the bottom of how we can be so good to others and so terrible to ourselves. In the meanwhile though, I have a loftier goal, and that is to win the Nobel Prize, the Nobel Prize in Blogging. So let me know how I’m doing, 'cause it’s hard to get those in charge to take notice. A bientot.
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