check out point B
I'm reminded of the case of "perpetual abuse". Many people who psychologically and physically abuse others on an interpersonal level, claim that they themselves were abused before. Apologetics exist for such actions, claiming that people are "conditioned" to know abuse as the way normal people can behave.
However, it remains the case that many who are abused, in fact most; don't turn to abuse others. So context, although a factor, isn't the only one. I too am a Zimbardoian, and recognize that when people are very apt to take their "roles" when given them. So various heads of state that committed brutal acts where again using their power seriously, because they had it. I'd like to forgive some of these leaders for brutality because of the ends they made...
But like abuse, there were also heads of state who were given the power to get away with brutal acts, and didn't. Many of these leaders even achieved similar ends without brutality as part of their methodology. So the question at the end of this comparison is:
- are the brutal leaders/individual abusers extremely evil, and the rest of us just normal?
- or are the brutal and abusive amongst us just more in-touch with their primitive nature, and the rest of us EXRTEMELY good for resiting the urge to hurt others for our own/the worlds ends?
I'm going to take the very unpopular black-n-white position here and say that both answers are correct. People/leaders who don't use their power for brutality, and may even use it for good, are extremely commendable. And, because there is evidence that people CAN resist this urge to use brutality, those who do use it are morally culpable.
P.s. written in haste
bad guys are actually bad guys
It's some kind of trendy act for men to support the wicked. This spawns the advocacy of characters in gangster films, and even historical villains for all the human rights they violated.
I was apt to do the same for much of my life, thinking that many truly awful characters were "bad-asses". Upon being asked why they were bad-asses, I would cite amusing situations wherein they hurt lots of people through their egomania.
Though these characters in history and fiction may be amusing to read about or watch, that's where the affection should end. Caligula wasn't a bad-ass, he forced those close to him to commit suicide on occasion, he killed people for no purpose besides his own amusement and intentionally caused starvation. If he existed now he would be a villainous spook, so what's the difference if its history? The character of Alex in a clockwork orange isn't some kind of nihilistic freedom fighter, he's a rapist and predator.
I'm not sure where the affinity for these characters comes from. Is is the viewers own feelings of impotency that cause him to encourage the dominance of the protagonist? Is it, on some level, what he wishes he could do if not held back by his pesky conscience and life of respect and friendship? Speaking for myself, I am more than happy to be bound by universal human rights.
In the context of a movie it may seem exciting, but if its a real-life account, or if it were reality- gunshot victims would have to live paralyzed, the dead's families would be forever devastated, and grief would continue to multiply everywhere for the momentary "justice" the protagonist inflicted.
So I hereafter will never talk positively about villains. It's not any comfort that it already happened or it's only a movie- because the same things are happening somewhere right now. If you think villains are perversely heroes of some kind- go find the real villains in the world and give them applause. If you wouldn't do that, don't ack like ya know.
I was apt to do the same for much of my life, thinking that many truly awful characters were "bad-asses". Upon being asked why they were bad-asses, I would cite amusing situations wherein they hurt lots of people through their egomania.
Though these characters in history and fiction may be amusing to read about or watch, that's where the affection should end. Caligula wasn't a bad-ass, he forced those close to him to commit suicide on occasion, he killed people for no purpose besides his own amusement and intentionally caused starvation. If he existed now he would be a villainous spook, so what's the difference if its history? The character of Alex in a clockwork orange isn't some kind of nihilistic freedom fighter, he's a rapist and predator.
I'm not sure where the affinity for these characters comes from. Is is the viewers own feelings of impotency that cause him to encourage the dominance of the protagonist? Is it, on some level, what he wishes he could do if not held back by his pesky conscience and life of respect and friendship? Speaking for myself, I am more than happy to be bound by universal human rights.
In the context of a movie it may seem exciting, but if its a real-life account, or if it were reality- gunshot victims would have to live paralyzed, the dead's families would be forever devastated, and grief would continue to multiply everywhere for the momentary "justice" the protagonist inflicted.
So I hereafter will never talk positively about villains. It's not any comfort that it already happened or it's only a movie- because the same things are happening somewhere right now. If you think villains are perversely heroes of some kind- go find the real villains in the world and give them applause. If you wouldn't do that, don't ack like ya know.
the final word on alcohol
I started drinking in earnest about 1 year and 2 months ago. When I type "drinking in earnest" I mean casually dosing myself with alcohol whenever I feel the need, usually daily, much like a caffeine or nicotine user.
Since starting, whether I drink or not, alcohol enters my thoughts daily. The thought is seductive for some reason, and what's more important than whether I drink or not is whether I waste all my time whining about it.
Q: What's worse than an alcoholic?
A: A person who doesn't drink, but talks about it all the time.
I don't care if I'm sober or drunk, I just want to be at peace about my choices. Finally, I feel like I am. Don't blink:
Alcohol makes life more dramatic.
There it is. Sometimes, life being more dramatic is exactly what you need. If you've carefully made your life choices, and are stuck doing something that bores you or you want to quit, have 1-33 drinks. If, however, you're life is out of hand, completely unpredictable and you want things to fall into a recognizable order- cut the booze.
That's all, folks. The crazy water makes you do crazy things. Sometimes that's really good, and sometimes that's really bad. You be the judge. If you don't stay on top of it, you'll end up a wino or a responsible father.
Be careful.
Since starting, whether I drink or not, alcohol enters my thoughts daily. The thought is seductive for some reason, and what's more important than whether I drink or not is whether I waste all my time whining about it.
Q: What's worse than an alcoholic?
A: A person who doesn't drink, but talks about it all the time.
I don't care if I'm sober or drunk, I just want to be at peace about my choices. Finally, I feel like I am. Don't blink:
Alcohol makes life more dramatic.
There it is. Sometimes, life being more dramatic is exactly what you need. If you've carefully made your life choices, and are stuck doing something that bores you or you want to quit, have 1-33 drinks. If, however, you're life is out of hand, completely unpredictable and you want things to fall into a recognizable order- cut the booze.
That's all, folks. The crazy water makes you do crazy things. Sometimes that's really good, and sometimes that's really bad. You be the judge. If you don't stay on top of it, you'll end up a wino or a responsible father.
Be careful.
do you have what it takes?
I've delivered your food for just about 2 1/2 years. Well, maybe it wasn't your particular food, but it was some jerk just like you. And after this rather sizable fraction of my life spent doing this, I'm having what psychologists call a "I just can't do this shit anymore" breakdown. It's usually experienced among careers such as hitman, heroin mule and other service industry jobs.
Yet, I still like being able to get food delivered on occasion, and most drivers can handle doing it for 1-112 months, so it's a necessary evil. The question is, will you join the ranks? Here are the requirements for being able to get pleasure out of the job in question:
-you love your fucking car. You'd rather be in your car than sitting in a cozy office chair, on your own sofa reading comic books, or in bed with a beautiful woman. You literally get excited every time you go for a spin in it. You don't even care if you're doing nothing that benefits you. (note: this is why almost all food delivery drivers do a socially unacceptable drug they have to do in their car)
-When someone hands you 2 quarters as a tip, you can refuse the urge to toss it on the ground, spit in their face and challenge them to a dominance contest. Most people don't feel like this the first time, but believe me, after the 2nd or 100th time, those feelings will start to creep in.
-You have the moral flexibility to literally take every order in the store while your coworker is off getting stoned or whacking off. This is the only way you can afford gas, right?
-You know how to steal food. The "getting sick of pizza/subs/the shittiest food in the world" idea is a myth. Whether you like it or not, if you spend enough time working by food, you're gonna want to eat it and if you actually pay for it, you will feel dirty forever. because you are dirty forever. Steal, it's the only way to get nowhere closer to receiving just compensation for your time and energy.
-When people are mad at you for being late, you can stare at them completely expressionless instead of explaining it to them. No one believes your stories, and you can't tell them that you made sure their order was late because last time they tipped you 2 quarters.
-When your boss delivers to "help out", you resist the urge to slash his tires/kidnap his children for ransom(a.k.a. the "original tip")
-You can get excited about working on holidays because 3 drunk customers(always blonde middle aged women) give you the equivalent of 10 extra dollars, total.
-You can fool yourself into thinking that a tip is "extra money", instead of money that your employer has docked from your pay already and left it up to the customer to make up.
-You're willing to listen to a CD that skips on every song, if it's the only music in your car at the time.(alternately, you can't get enough of talk fucking radio)
Yet, I still like being able to get food delivered on occasion, and most drivers can handle doing it for 1-112 months, so it's a necessary evil. The question is, will you join the ranks? Here are the requirements for being able to get pleasure out of the job in question:
-you love your fucking car. You'd rather be in your car than sitting in a cozy office chair, on your own sofa reading comic books, or in bed with a beautiful woman. You literally get excited every time you go for a spin in it. You don't even care if you're doing nothing that benefits you. (note: this is why almost all food delivery drivers do a socially unacceptable drug they have to do in their car)
-When someone hands you 2 quarters as a tip, you can refuse the urge to toss it on the ground, spit in their face and challenge them to a dominance contest. Most people don't feel like this the first time, but believe me, after the 2nd or 100th time, those feelings will start to creep in.
-You have the moral flexibility to literally take every order in the store while your coworker is off getting stoned or whacking off. This is the only way you can afford gas, right?
-You know how to steal food. The "getting sick of pizza/subs/the shittiest food in the world" idea is a myth. Whether you like it or not, if you spend enough time working by food, you're gonna want to eat it and if you actually pay for it, you will feel dirty forever. because you are dirty forever. Steal, it's the only way to get nowhere closer to receiving just compensation for your time and energy.
-When people are mad at you for being late, you can stare at them completely expressionless instead of explaining it to them. No one believes your stories, and you can't tell them that you made sure their order was late because last time they tipped you 2 quarters.
-When your boss delivers to "help out", you resist the urge to slash his tires/kidnap his children for ransom(a.k.a. the "original tip")
-You can get excited about working on holidays because 3 drunk customers(always blonde middle aged women) give you the equivalent of 10 extra dollars, total.
-You can fool yourself into thinking that a tip is "extra money", instead of money that your employer has docked from your pay already and left it up to the customer to make up.
-You're willing to listen to a CD that skips on every song, if it's the only music in your car at the time.(alternately, you can't get enough of talk fucking radio)
5 chill-inducing songs
There is a physical sensation I get from a really good song, or part of a song, that I refer to as "the chills". I can never figure out exactly when it's going to happen, because even with these songs it doesn't most of the time. The chills are first felt as the hairs on the back of my neck standing up, then they move down my back and the length of my upper arms. The feeling is a more extreme high then I've felt before. Sometimes I seek out this feeling, which might be part of why I rarely get interested in new music. Here are the songs which have made me feel this way more often than any others, and are most consistent in inducing chills=
-Nine inch nails, "the great below"
This is a song with an amazingly apt nautical feeling, like a cold beach at night. the songs string plucking, deliberate and delicate because of probably being done by trent reznor while on valium, is enough to give chills at first. Then, the climax lyrically, as the singer screams "as I descend from grace... in arms of undertow... I will take my place... " at this point, I typically already have light chills. Then the finish "In the great below", the music drops out, then comes back in, half-intense, before the phrase is complete. At this point, my previous chills "explode" into a deeper single chill. amazing...
-Beck, "nicotine and gravy"
What is essentially a silly song is very impressive musically. First chills might be experienced when the bass line and drums drop in, which are low and slow enough to be accompanied while performing a drive by in a car with hydraulics. The listener, at this point, feels like a total bad-ass, wether he is or not(he's probably not). The song chugs along in the same mood, unassuming, and somehow, the nonsense lyrics in falsetto climax each and every time. The nonsense actually induces chills in one particular line: "I feed you fruit, that, Dooooon't exist". This effect, along with the satisfying chug of the music and perfect length, makes this strange song on the list.
-MF doom, "figaro"
It starts off with a bassy, jazzy intro that no one would expect to drop off into a slow, shattered sample beat. The only clue that "the shit's about to go down" is MF himself humming "mmm!" satisfied right before he drops into the song. Unlike much MF doom work, this one gets off to a verbose lyrical beginning- "the rest is empty, with no brain, but the clever nerd- the best emcee with no chain you ever heard" which sets the only premise for this song- almost every syllable rhymes with another one, anywhere it fits in the beat. and it always fits on the beat. Pauses are tasteful, not lazy or just to wait, very dramatic. Just as the listener grows accustomed to the consistent and impressive lyrical deliver, it seems to launch to another planet with "not enough tracks, hot enough black? It's too hot to handle, you got blue sandals, who shot you? who got you new spots to vandal? do not stand still, boast yo skills, close but no crills, toast for po' ills post no bills, coast-to-coast Joe Shmoe's flows ill, go chill, not supposed to overdose, no Doz pills". chills again start and climax with "no doz pills" which is slightly extended. The songs could end there with no complaints, but it against impresses the listener by continuing consistently to the end, and fading out. Anyone who thinks rap isn't music ought to be forced to listen to this.
-System of a down, "soil"
This is a song which I interpret to be about a close friend committing suicide, and trying to find the sense in it. The song loops in 15/16 time, giving a rushed, confused pace that fits it well. The listener is put in a state of mild manic confusion, which is interruped by the hard chorus, and then seemingly a climax- "Don't you", "Know that", "evil", "Lives in the motherfucking skin!", repeated voer and over with no percussion at first, and then a middle-eastern sounding guitar solo. At this point, it's the length of normal song and could again fade with no objection. instead, after a brief silence, Serj Tankian's truly scary voice comes back with "Why the fuck did you take him away from us you motherFUCKER! FUCKER! FUCKER!" with the music coming back for "fucker". The anger is palpable, slightly scary, and I'm getting chills now just remembering it without listening.
-Isaac hayes, "Ain't no sunshine"(live)
I'm not sure how I ended up with this particular live version, I was downloading soul music for the sampling, and listening out of curiosity. This was an amazing experience. towards the middle of the song, the music drops and Isaac's impressive voice does a dance on it's own, across octave ranges. It seems at some point that he's just showing off, kind of silly vocalization, and then, without warning "Ain't no sunshine, it's always rain, and it's anytiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime. any tiiiiiiiiiiiiiime. any tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime, she goes(ascends in pitch), Aaaaaaaaaaaa-WAYYYYY". on "way", the music, in a manner similar to "the great below", comes back in, lightly in the background. This is the most consistent in giving me chills- and interestingly it works not because of a build up, but a surprise, and the chills all happen at once.
I feel really wierd after remembering all these songs. The thought that I might one day give another person the similar physical and emotional sensation is what keeps me wanting to make music myself.
-Nine inch nails, "the great below"
This is a song with an amazingly apt nautical feeling, like a cold beach at night. the songs string plucking, deliberate and delicate because of probably being done by trent reznor while on valium, is enough to give chills at first. Then, the climax lyrically, as the singer screams "as I descend from grace... in arms of undertow... I will take my place... " at this point, I typically already have light chills. Then the finish "In the great below", the music drops out, then comes back in, half-intense, before the phrase is complete. At this point, my previous chills "explode" into a deeper single chill. amazing...
-Beck, "nicotine and gravy"
What is essentially a silly song is very impressive musically. First chills might be experienced when the bass line and drums drop in, which are low and slow enough to be accompanied while performing a drive by in a car with hydraulics. The listener, at this point, feels like a total bad-ass, wether he is or not(he's probably not). The song chugs along in the same mood, unassuming, and somehow, the nonsense lyrics in falsetto climax each and every time. The nonsense actually induces chills in one particular line: "I feed you fruit, that, Dooooon't exist". This effect, along with the satisfying chug of the music and perfect length, makes this strange song on the list.
-MF doom, "figaro"
It starts off with a bassy, jazzy intro that no one would expect to drop off into a slow, shattered sample beat. The only clue that "the shit's about to go down" is MF himself humming "mmm!" satisfied right before he drops into the song. Unlike much MF doom work, this one gets off to a verbose lyrical beginning- "the rest is empty, with no brain, but the clever nerd- the best emcee with no chain you ever heard" which sets the only premise for this song- almost every syllable rhymes with another one, anywhere it fits in the beat. and it always fits on the beat. Pauses are tasteful, not lazy or just to wait, very dramatic. Just as the listener grows accustomed to the consistent and impressive lyrical deliver, it seems to launch to another planet with "not enough tracks, hot enough black? It's too hot to handle, you got blue sandals, who shot you? who got you new spots to vandal? do not stand still, boast yo skills, close but no crills, toast for po' ills post no bills, coast-to-coast Joe Shmoe's flows ill, go chill, not supposed to overdose, no Doz pills". chills again start and climax with "no doz pills" which is slightly extended. The songs could end there with no complaints, but it against impresses the listener by continuing consistently to the end, and fading out. Anyone who thinks rap isn't music ought to be forced to listen to this.
-System of a down, "soil"
This is a song which I interpret to be about a close friend committing suicide, and trying to find the sense in it. The song loops in 15/16 time, giving a rushed, confused pace that fits it well. The listener is put in a state of mild manic confusion, which is interruped by the hard chorus, and then seemingly a climax- "Don't you", "Know that", "evil", "Lives in the motherfucking skin!", repeated voer and over with no percussion at first, and then a middle-eastern sounding guitar solo. At this point, it's the length of normal song and could again fade with no objection. instead, after a brief silence, Serj Tankian's truly scary voice comes back with "Why the fuck did you take him away from us you motherFUCKER! FUCKER! FUCKER!" with the music coming back for "fucker". The anger is palpable, slightly scary, and I'm getting chills now just remembering it without listening.
-Isaac hayes, "Ain't no sunshine"(live)
I'm not sure how I ended up with this particular live version, I was downloading soul music for the sampling, and listening out of curiosity. This was an amazing experience. towards the middle of the song, the music drops and Isaac's impressive voice does a dance on it's own, across octave ranges. It seems at some point that he's just showing off, kind of silly vocalization, and then, without warning "Ain't no sunshine, it's always rain, and it's anytiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime. any tiiiiiiiiiiiiiime. any tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime, she goes(ascends in pitch), Aaaaaaaaaaaa-WAYYYYY". on "way", the music, in a manner similar to "the great below", comes back in, lightly in the background. This is the most consistent in giving me chills- and interestingly it works not because of a build up, but a surprise, and the chills all happen at once.
I feel really wierd after remembering all these songs. The thought that I might one day give another person the similar physical and emotional sensation is what keeps me wanting to make music myself.
the science of female buttocks
After 21 tiresome years of life, I am 100% certain that I am an ass man. Many men who claim the same prestigious title only like "ba-donka-donk" or some other kind of trendy, passing terminology for sloppy, unrestrained symmetrical fat deposits.
There are many dimensions, both physically and intellectually, for female buttocks. Commonly, when someone exclaims "nice ass", it is, indeed, not nice, but hostile in some sense or another. Here are when claiming "nice ass" is a misnomer:
-no hips. often called the "bubble butt", this is when a butt physically sticks out from the owner, but is missing the upside-down heart shape that reduces general levels of stress when seen. Though the shape could be admirable in every other respect, it must be housed in a set of curved hips to match. The lack of hips is an even worse eventuality when it is matched with wide shoulders. What gender are we looking at, anyway?
-doesn't protrude. The polar opposite of the no-hips phenomenon, this is when an "ass" if it is to be called so is shapely, with hips and even a remarkable cavern between cheeks, but there are no cheeks to match! Often championed by the Caucasian, this style of buttocks is unnacceptable to the individual participating in sex or looking at a woman from the side. If it's not like a button, if it doesn't jiggle when playfully struck, it's not a nice ass.
-one big cheek. This is when there is no worthwhile seperation between cheeks. Often seen in women of larger carriage. Though this may have been able to slide before women wore pants(probably leading to its propagation and existence in the present), it can't be overlooked in the era of jeans and pants. If a participant has to slide his/her hand an uncharted amount of territory to reach the vagina, it's not worth it. The female buttocks should be inviting, not intimidating.
-long butt syndrome. This is when, even in the days of low-rise jeans, an ass is "long" and not commensurately wide. Pragmatically, there shouldn't be a problem but aesthetically, this is associated in my mind with old age or poor health. A good indicator of the correct length is whether the legs, when walking, press into the buttocks, creating a noticeable curve on each cheek.
I, as an ass man, demand that the buttocks in question fulfill the criteria of curved hips, protrusion, independent cheekhood and short, youthful size. If it doesn't, it's not a nice ass and furthermore I wouldn't want to be associated with it. Very small breasts, superfulous belly fat and even the existence of hair can be foregone in the case of very nice ass. But not one feature of the buttocks can be overlooked.
There are many dimensions, both physically and intellectually, for female buttocks. Commonly, when someone exclaims "nice ass", it is, indeed, not nice, but hostile in some sense or another. Here are when claiming "nice ass" is a misnomer:
-no hips. often called the "bubble butt", this is when a butt physically sticks out from the owner, but is missing the upside-down heart shape that reduces general levels of stress when seen. Though the shape could be admirable in every other respect, it must be housed in a set of curved hips to match. The lack of hips is an even worse eventuality when it is matched with wide shoulders. What gender are we looking at, anyway?
-doesn't protrude. The polar opposite of the no-hips phenomenon, this is when an "ass" if it is to be called so is shapely, with hips and even a remarkable cavern between cheeks, but there are no cheeks to match! Often championed by the Caucasian, this style of buttocks is unnacceptable to the individual participating in sex or looking at a woman from the side. If it's not like a button, if it doesn't jiggle when playfully struck, it's not a nice ass.
-one big cheek. This is when there is no worthwhile seperation between cheeks. Often seen in women of larger carriage. Though this may have been able to slide before women wore pants(probably leading to its propagation and existence in the present), it can't be overlooked in the era of jeans and pants. If a participant has to slide his/her hand an uncharted amount of territory to reach the vagina, it's not worth it. The female buttocks should be inviting, not intimidating.
-long butt syndrome. This is when, even in the days of low-rise jeans, an ass is "long" and not commensurately wide. Pragmatically, there shouldn't be a problem but aesthetically, this is associated in my mind with old age or poor health. A good indicator of the correct length is whether the legs, when walking, press into the buttocks, creating a noticeable curve on each cheek.
I, as an ass man, demand that the buttocks in question fulfill the criteria of curved hips, protrusion, independent cheekhood and short, youthful size. If it doesn't, it's not a nice ass and furthermore I wouldn't want to be associated with it. Very small breasts, superfulous belly fat and even the existence of hair can be foregone in the case of very nice ass. But not one feature of the buttocks can be overlooked.
Psychoanalyze this, bitch
I stayed up last night several hours past my self-imposed bedtime to read the glossary of psychiatric terms on wikipedia. Because most of these are non-english words(hence the need for a glossary), They all involve rather extreme psychotic disturbances. My reaction upon reading each one was to either remember a time I felt vaguely similar, attempt to feel that way myself, or imagine seeing someone acting in that manner. As you might imagine, I was feeling pretty hot and bothered by the end of reading it and accompanying articles.
Feeling as though mental illness was knocking on my skull for entry and ready to sneak his friends in, I was worried about nightmares and other sleep problems. For the moments before slipping into slumber I reassured myself that I was sane, strong as a damn ox, and would wake up feeling like a million bucks. Strangely, I was correct. I slept a solid block of time, and towards the end of it, I had a wonderful dream, which goes as such:
I woke up on the apex of a snow covered hill, as If I had slept there for the night. On my belly, Like a human sled, I inched over the crest, and my completely rigid body(possibly resulting from reading this) slid down the hill with ease, and continued to slide around on the flat foot of the hill for a time, before running into looser snow. At this point, my brother was around, and I was on a slightly downhill road with patches of ice. My brother could also slide on just his belly, and between patches of ice, he could inexplicably "jump", while still on his belly, over gaps in the ice to continue sliding. When I got up to continue sledding, I still felt as though my body was a rigid board(the experience was felt like I was a wooden sled myself), though I had full mobility. I joined him in sliding on and "jumping" patches of ice, feeling very exhilarated.
Then I woke up. I wish I could buy my subconcious it's favorite flavor of ice cream- for turning the sensation of certain mental collapse into a carefree sensation of unaltered joy. The psychiatry nazis would probably say I'm disturbed and prescribe "corrective" medication.
Feeling as though mental illness was knocking on my skull for entry and ready to sneak his friends in, I was worried about nightmares and other sleep problems. For the moments before slipping into slumber I reassured myself that I was sane, strong as a damn ox, and would wake up feeling like a million bucks. Strangely, I was correct. I slept a solid block of time, and towards the end of it, I had a wonderful dream, which goes as such:
I woke up on the apex of a snow covered hill, as If I had slept there for the night. On my belly, Like a human sled, I inched over the crest, and my completely rigid body(possibly resulting from reading this) slid down the hill with ease, and continued to slide around on the flat foot of the hill for a time, before running into looser snow. At this point, my brother was around, and I was on a slightly downhill road with patches of ice. My brother could also slide on just his belly, and between patches of ice, he could inexplicably "jump", while still on his belly, over gaps in the ice to continue sliding. When I got up to continue sledding, I still felt as though my body was a rigid board(the experience was felt like I was a wooden sled myself), though I had full mobility. I joined him in sliding on and "jumping" patches of ice, feeling very exhilarated.
Then I woke up. I wish I could buy my subconcious it's favorite flavor of ice cream- for turning the sensation of certain mental collapse into a carefree sensation of unaltered joy. The psychiatry nazis would probably say I'm disturbed and prescribe "corrective" medication.
Cobe's theory of mellodrama
An emotions intensity is left up to the mercy, or intentions, of the beholder.
Each and every person is only privy to the range of emotions they've felt. And so, when I say I am "sad", I may or may not be feeling the same way you did when you were "depressed". For all I know, I may have the exact same physical and mental sensations you did, and I am by your standards "depressed". If I have been more sad, what I call depressed, then this, by my own personal comparison, is just sad.
It is a common theme in my life that people define me as cold and often lacking emotion. I have concluded that I am not unemotional, and that these people who define me as such are not feeling anything more intense(in either direction) than I am. Instead of me being halfway to sociopathy, I think that they are blowing things out of proportion for attention. It is the assumption of normalcy that puts a wedge between us both.
man A loses his job of 20 years. He is wildly depressed. man B loses his job of 20 years. He is annoyed. man A does nothing to help himself until the feeling passes, whereas man B, with the "abnormal" mild emotional reaction, works on getting another job. Emotions are only justified insofar as they are productive. Anything more, is melodramatic.
Each and every person is only privy to the range of emotions they've felt. And so, when I say I am "sad", I may or may not be feeling the same way you did when you were "depressed". For all I know, I may have the exact same physical and mental sensations you did, and I am by your standards "depressed". If I have been more sad, what I call depressed, then this, by my own personal comparison, is just sad.
It is a common theme in my life that people define me as cold and often lacking emotion. I have concluded that I am not unemotional, and that these people who define me as such are not feeling anything more intense(in either direction) than I am. Instead of me being halfway to sociopathy, I think that they are blowing things out of proportion for attention. It is the assumption of normalcy that puts a wedge between us both.
man A loses his job of 20 years. He is wildly depressed. man B loses his job of 20 years. He is annoyed. man A does nothing to help himself until the feeling passes, whereas man B, with the "abnormal" mild emotional reaction, works on getting another job. Emotions are only justified insofar as they are productive. Anything more, is melodramatic.
Screwy Reviewy: Stuck
Stuck is a movie that I was fortunate enough not to read about before I watched it. It's really good. If you would like the same experience, GO WATCH IT before reading this.
Stuck is a movie, prefaced with "based on true events", about a Nurse, who while off-the-clock, driving on Ecstacy and probably drunk, hits a homeless man with her car. The man has both of his legs broken and is sent through her windshield, where his head drips blood on the passenger seat. On her way home, he slowly awakes and asks her for help. When she arrives home, where she's meeting her boyfriend(who's a drug dealer); she explains it to him- But she fails to mention that the man is still in her windshield, and alive. The man assures her that if she hit a homeless man and there were no witnesses, then they'll fix the car and everything will be alright.
This is where the black comedy/OMG-fest begins. The woman tries everything to not get caught for the crime, and as such gets no medical attention for the man. She eventually grows to deny that it was her fault at all, and becomes angry enough to assault the man. She enlists the help of her boyfriend, who, in an attempt to act "hard", acts as if he knows exactly what to do. It becomes clear that he doesn't, and his silky-smooth gangster talk completely dissipates, which is hilarious. After many trials and tribulations for the homeless man trying to save himself, They decide that the boyfriend will murder the man and leave his body in the park. He hesitates, both with a pillow and a gun, and instead the homeless man has a pen ready, stabs him in the eye, and drives it in as far as it will go.
The boyfriend dies, and the homeless man tries to escape, but then the nurse comes back in. She attempts to set the whole place on fire, to tell the police a very unlikely story, but then the homeless man drives the car into her shins, assumedly breaking her legs also, and gives a short monologue when she asks "help me". She tries to shoot him, and the friction from the bullet lights the garage on fire. The neighbors come, rescue the homeless man, and one can assume he survives to tell about it.
I left out alot of the description because I want to address the "based on true events" part of it. After watching the movie and feeling my life affirmed and butterflies in my stomach for human perseverance, I read about the actual story. It goes as such: A drunk and high nurse in texas hit a homeless man, decide to leave him to die and deal with it later, and he died the next morning. Her boyfriend and another man left the man in the park, and they attempted to burn her car to lose the evidence. She was only a suspect in the crime 4 months later, when she was bragging at a party about how she "Hit a white man" and got away with it. She was caught and sentenced to 50 years in prison. She's eligible for parole in 2027.
Though the movie is good in its own right, It's a bit upsetting knowing that the very incompetent, insensitive characters in the movie were even more incompetent and insensitive in real life. Instead of sympathetic characters that make rash decisions in the heat of the moment, The real life criminals involved were entirely cold, even bragging later on. The whole situation is sad, but it's also good that the movie alerted me to the real story- wherein the woman got what she deserved.
Overall, a worthwhile watch, but the movie is more like "Half a real story, then what you want to see". Which is satisfying, but leaves something to be desired.
Stuck is a movie, prefaced with "based on true events", about a Nurse, who while off-the-clock, driving on Ecstacy and probably drunk, hits a homeless man with her car. The man has both of his legs broken and is sent through her windshield, where his head drips blood on the passenger seat. On her way home, he slowly awakes and asks her for help. When she arrives home, where she's meeting her boyfriend(who's a drug dealer); she explains it to him- But she fails to mention that the man is still in her windshield, and alive. The man assures her that if she hit a homeless man and there were no witnesses, then they'll fix the car and everything will be alright.
This is where the black comedy/OMG-fest begins. The woman tries everything to not get caught for the crime, and as such gets no medical attention for the man. She eventually grows to deny that it was her fault at all, and becomes angry enough to assault the man. She enlists the help of her boyfriend, who, in an attempt to act "hard", acts as if he knows exactly what to do. It becomes clear that he doesn't, and his silky-smooth gangster talk completely dissipates, which is hilarious. After many trials and tribulations for the homeless man trying to save himself, They decide that the boyfriend will murder the man and leave his body in the park. He hesitates, both with a pillow and a gun, and instead the homeless man has a pen ready, stabs him in the eye, and drives it in as far as it will go.
The boyfriend dies, and the homeless man tries to escape, but then the nurse comes back in. She attempts to set the whole place on fire, to tell the police a very unlikely story, but then the homeless man drives the car into her shins, assumedly breaking her legs also, and gives a short monologue when she asks "help me". She tries to shoot him, and the friction from the bullet lights the garage on fire. The neighbors come, rescue the homeless man, and one can assume he survives to tell about it.
I left out alot of the description because I want to address the "based on true events" part of it. After watching the movie and feeling my life affirmed and butterflies in my stomach for human perseverance, I read about the actual story. It goes as such: A drunk and high nurse in texas hit a homeless man, decide to leave him to die and deal with it later, and he died the next morning. Her boyfriend and another man left the man in the park, and they attempted to burn her car to lose the evidence. She was only a suspect in the crime 4 months later, when she was bragging at a party about how she "Hit a white man" and got away with it. She was caught and sentenced to 50 years in prison. She's eligible for parole in 2027.
Though the movie is good in its own right, It's a bit upsetting knowing that the very incompetent, insensitive characters in the movie were even more incompetent and insensitive in real life. Instead of sympathetic characters that make rash decisions in the heat of the moment, The real life criminals involved were entirely cold, even bragging later on. The whole situation is sad, but it's also good that the movie alerted me to the real story- wherein the woman got what she deserved.
Overall, a worthwhile watch, but the movie is more like "Half a real story, then what you want to see". Which is satisfying, but leaves something to be desired.
who is sleep's cousin?
I've spent most of my life getting as little sleep as possible. Since I don't have insomnia, narcolepsy or any other trendy new sleeping habits, my attempts have usually culminated in getting 4-6 hours of sleep for a few nights in a row and then getting 12 hours when I can't take that shit anymore. My habits were self-induced sometimes because of Asthma, but just as often because of the sexyness and mystique of restlessness and stories of admirable people who didn't sleep much.
Interestingly enough, when I moved out of my parents house, I didn't turn into a cliche youngster, burning the midnight oil for... some reason, and staying up all hours of the night looking for liquor and whores; or whatever it is young men are supposed to do. Instead, I've turned into Benjamin Franklin, early to bed and early to rise; usually sleeping 9-10 hours a night.
Changing my mind is one of my favorite things to do in life. It doesn't come easily for me like it does for the majority population of flakes and neurotics, so I've got to come clean on this one. Sleep is important. Skipping hours every night is just as bad for the mental form as skipping meals for the physical one. It can be done, and should be, when time needs to be bought once in a while. But the reasoning to be a lifestyle sleep hater falls flat.
Buying "waking hours" by cutting your sleeping (or just lying in bed) time, is probably not worthwhile. I've found that any time that I've forced myself to be awake needlessly is simply more depressing, more out of focus, and stretches on forever. It's a ridiculous reality to embrace; trading your unconscious problem solving time and recooperative rest for more "productive" hours.
Though personal and anecdotal; I can tell you that I feel more powerful, curious, effective and stronger than I ever have before, and I am almost certain it's because of sleeping 7 days straight as long as I pleased, guiltlessly.
I don't know why I ever thought being awake was so cool.
Interestingly enough, when I moved out of my parents house, I didn't turn into a cliche youngster, burning the midnight oil for... some reason, and staying up all hours of the night looking for liquor and whores; or whatever it is young men are supposed to do. Instead, I've turned into Benjamin Franklin, early to bed and early to rise; usually sleeping 9-10 hours a night.
Changing my mind is one of my favorite things to do in life. It doesn't come easily for me like it does for the majority population of flakes and neurotics, so I've got to come clean on this one. Sleep is important. Skipping hours every night is just as bad for the mental form as skipping meals for the physical one. It can be done, and should be, when time needs to be bought once in a while. But the reasoning to be a lifestyle sleep hater falls flat.
Buying "waking hours" by cutting your sleeping (or just lying in bed) time, is probably not worthwhile. I've found that any time that I've forced myself to be awake needlessly is simply more depressing, more out of focus, and stretches on forever. It's a ridiculous reality to embrace; trading your unconscious problem solving time and recooperative rest for more "productive" hours.
Though personal and anecdotal; I can tell you that I feel more powerful, curious, effective and stronger than I ever have before, and I am almost certain it's because of sleeping 7 days straight as long as I pleased, guiltlessly.
I don't know why I ever thought being awake was so cool.
Cobe's methods for beating the greater depression
The economy is in what economists commonly refer to as "the shitter". Most credible current reports say that it won't be as bad as the great depression of the 1930's. But it's important to remember that before the great depression happened there weren't a whole lot of people, save for WW1 veterans in the throws of PTSD flashbacks, forecasting it's onset. In my experience, it's always best to prepare for the worst. I'm confident I will survive this next "greater" depression and probably come out of it as some type of kingpin. You can do the same. Here's how:
-Cut the car. If you have a lifestyle for which you don't need a car, Then sell it now before confidence in the dollar plummets and cars are being bought and sold with chinese currency. Cars incur far more cost than their fuel. Insurance, inspections, state fees, tickets, and the human cost of being shot when you try to steal someone's license plates when you fail to live up to those responsibilities is expensive.
-If you must drive, steal. If you can produce your own fuel, do it. Whether it's in a backyard distillery for biodiesel or your neighbors house with a fishtank pump and alot of emptied 3 liter fanta bottles, finding fuel by any other method than a gas station is worthwhile.
-Save food. Pour your 2-day-old coffee into the chicken soup, clean off your plate simply with your tongue. Food will be the second most valuable thing when money is better used as welcome mats. I suggest the wide implementation of "food shots". If you can still afford a refrigerator or a damp basement crawlspace, take all food bits that are undesirable and place them in a blender. When there is quite a bit of crumbs in there, blend until liquid. Take the shot, and chase with liquor to kill bacteria. It will be gross, and if you don't do it you'll die.
-Hoard water/find water. Sooner or later municipalities will realize it's not cost effective to keep citizens hydrated and they'll raise the price into oblivion or tell you they're going laizes-fare with the water supply. Collect it from your neighbors hose, your gutters or a big barrel left in the rain. Bacteria infested water is better than no water at all. Chase with liquor to kill bacteria.
-Dumpster dive. Unless the employees take it first, many food and food like substances will still be thrown out everywhere. If not technically edible, place in "food shot" maker for later use. If located in a higher-income area with trash compacters, wait and ambush employee taking out the trash for his bagels/pizza/used napkins.
-Get a gun. If they don't pass out first, motherfuckers will try to rob you for food and water. Place a sign on the door to your house that says "resident has a fully loaded gun and doesn't sleep". Which will be true when REM sleep is less valuable than dumpster diving for donuts. Chase with liquor to kill the pain.
-Cut the car. If you have a lifestyle for which you don't need a car, Then sell it now before confidence in the dollar plummets and cars are being bought and sold with chinese currency. Cars incur far more cost than their fuel. Insurance, inspections, state fees, tickets, and the human cost of being shot when you try to steal someone's license plates when you fail to live up to those responsibilities is expensive.
-If you must drive, steal. If you can produce your own fuel, do it. Whether it's in a backyard distillery for biodiesel or your neighbors house with a fishtank pump and alot of emptied 3 liter fanta bottles, finding fuel by any other method than a gas station is worthwhile.
-Save food. Pour your 2-day-old coffee into the chicken soup, clean off your plate simply with your tongue. Food will be the second most valuable thing when money is better used as welcome mats. I suggest the wide implementation of "food shots". If you can still afford a refrigerator or a damp basement crawlspace, take all food bits that are undesirable and place them in a blender. When there is quite a bit of crumbs in there, blend until liquid. Take the shot, and chase with liquor to kill bacteria. It will be gross, and if you don't do it you'll die.
-Hoard water/find water. Sooner or later municipalities will realize it's not cost effective to keep citizens hydrated and they'll raise the price into oblivion or tell you they're going laizes-fare with the water supply. Collect it from your neighbors hose, your gutters or a big barrel left in the rain. Bacteria infested water is better than no water at all. Chase with liquor to kill bacteria.
-Dumpster dive. Unless the employees take it first, many food and food like substances will still be thrown out everywhere. If not technically edible, place in "food shot" maker for later use. If located in a higher-income area with trash compacters, wait and ambush employee taking out the trash for his bagels/pizza/used napkins.
-Get a gun. If they don't pass out first, motherfuckers will try to rob you for food and water. Place a sign on the door to your house that says "resident has a fully loaded gun and doesn't sleep". Which will be true when REM sleep is less valuable than dumpster diving for donuts. Chase with liquor to kill the pain.
seeking new infections
I had a moment of clarity that startled me a bit today. Perhaps as the result of manic-depressive black and white thinking, perhaps as a result of pessimism and general negative thinking, I don't define things in term of health, ever.
Even when referring to myself or people I greatly admire(like myself) I don't often phrase characteristics as healthy or positive. Instead of someone being a "hard worker and avid coffee-drinker" they are "a coffee addict and a workaholic". This can really be applied to everything, I see excess, sickness and desperation in all actions. Any positivity arising from that sickness is a by-product.
It's just hard to believe that after somebody takes their thousandth shot from a bottle of liquor that they simply "like drinking". Yes, that is certainly the case, but because of addiction. Not that they're addiction has neccesarily done them any harm.
I've always had this outlook and applied it to myself no differently. Instead of seeking activity, I seek sicknesses. My only curiosity is in seeking the right combination of things to be sick with. Being healthy has never, ever been important to me. I hate all things which wish to cure me, or anyone else, of the only thing that keeps them going: need and satisfation.
Fuck anyone who wants everything, person around them and themselves to be "healthy". Healthy is another word for "just ok"
Even when referring to myself or people I greatly admire(like myself) I don't often phrase characteristics as healthy or positive. Instead of someone being a "hard worker and avid coffee-drinker" they are "a coffee addict and a workaholic". This can really be applied to everything, I see excess, sickness and desperation in all actions. Any positivity arising from that sickness is a by-product.
It's just hard to believe that after somebody takes their thousandth shot from a bottle of liquor that they simply "like drinking". Yes, that is certainly the case, but because of addiction. Not that they're addiction has neccesarily done them any harm.
I've always had this outlook and applied it to myself no differently. Instead of seeking activity, I seek sicknesses. My only curiosity is in seeking the right combination of things to be sick with. Being healthy has never, ever been important to me. I hate all things which wish to cure me, or anyone else, of the only thing that keeps them going: need and satisfation.
Fuck anyone who wants everything, person around them and themselves to be "healthy". Healthy is another word for "just ok"
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