I am from generation Y. Nicknamed "generation buy", the "ritalin generation", "trophy kids", "generation why" and "the millennials". If you'll notice, most of these nicknames have negative implications.
Generation "buy" implies that consumerism is the primary method of expression among the members. The label was applied by people of generations who have names that aren't only made to be put-downs, to put down younger people. Older generations typically share values of vaguely defined frugality, even if they don't practice it. It's some sort of ghost reaching from the great depression reminding them to eat their crusts and tuck their shirt in if they want that job at the mill. The thing is, not only is the "buy" label accurate, but it's a good thing. Generation Y members as a whole have demonstrated conscious consumerism. Picking brands that espouse the values they agree with, and not buying things that are not useful.
The ritalin generation implies that all the members are heavily medicated, which may or may not be true. But the real question, like usual, is "who gives a good goddamn". I know from personal experience that a medication is a medication, prescribed or otherwise, in pill form or not. In which case I doubt the current young adults are much different in this respect to previous generations. Only difference is that they are guilt-free and bathe regularly.
Trophy kids is a reference to the not-ever-very-common practice of awarding every child in a competition a trophy just for competing. This criticism of all-inclusiveness and unconditional self-esteem building hasn't been edgy or relevant since southpark was funny and people bought stock in internet companies. Recently the phrase has been validated by generation Y's supposed attitude in the workplace- that they deserve more money, benefits and working conditions at all times. The "get you some" generation would be more apt to describe that. I see nothing wrong. The alternative is "Never get trophies because of humility, fear, and mindless work ethic kids".
Generation why is inaccurate. Again it's older people who haven't bothered to do much research, looking at the 13 year old pot-head in their house and broadstroking the entire generation. Whereas generation X did demonstrably like to slack off, when observed; generation "why" is actually generation "why not", with high levels of optimism and a tendency to multitask and challenge themselves.
Millennials has a clueless ring to it. Referring to yourself as a "millennial" sort of makes you sound like another race in a bad science fiction book, but also implies that young people are constantly walking around thinking they're hot shit because they get to live a majority of their years Starting with a 2 instead of a 1.
It's "Generation Y" to you, and it always was. We're all growing up now, there's plenty of us, and evidence suggests that we're kicking more ass than any generation has in a while. Really, read up.
the drink drinks itself
A drinking session for me is an emotional rollercoaster. It's nothing extraordinary, like an emotional kidnapping; It doesn't bring up absolute despair or complete validation, instead it brings up a full range of attitudes.
For the first part of the day I'm upbeat, maybe more than your average drunk, but self-criticizing. I spend one minute to several hours contemplating what the optimal amount to drink is, how I can drink exactly that much, wondering if this drinking thing is for me, the whole 9 yards.
Then, I come to a vague conclusion that "Well, I'm a drinker, so I ought to drink". Then I have one to several drinks. Then my attitude is "Ok. This is pretty good. But I got really drunk last night. So tonight, I think I'll just cruise with a nice buzz till bedtime and wake up fresh tomorrow".
One out of several times, I do just that. More often, I feel reawakened, not much differently than if my sleep lasted from when I blacked out to when all the shame and/or guilt passed, after my 3rd or 4th drink.
That's when Opportunity presents itself. Possibly (mis?)guided by optimism, I evaluate how the evenings going to pass. Option One: Even though I might want to drink, I don't, because I've heard that's the responsible thing to do. Enjoying myself will probably be made of watching DVDs and eating. Option several: Drink as much as I damn well please, and fuck tomorrow if it doesn't want to play ball.
Option one; the corny option; the option your mom would want me to take, doesn't put up a fight. You can read plenty about Sober artists and thinkers, and plenty about hard drinking artists and thinkers, but there is no congratulatory literature on the moderators. They're boring. And that's ultimately the conclusion I come to when I reach the "edge" between maintaining and indulging. It's too late to stop tonight; so go for broke.
This isn't an epiphany, it's what I think(more or less eloquently than stated here) every single morning and/or night. It's hard to maintain clarity and remember all this during a hangover, but when I do; I realize the only way to cut the bullshit is to get drunk quicker.
For the first part of the day I'm upbeat, maybe more than your average drunk, but self-criticizing. I spend one minute to several hours contemplating what the optimal amount to drink is, how I can drink exactly that much, wondering if this drinking thing is for me, the whole 9 yards.
Then, I come to a vague conclusion that "Well, I'm a drinker, so I ought to drink". Then I have one to several drinks. Then my attitude is "Ok. This is pretty good. But I got really drunk last night. So tonight, I think I'll just cruise with a nice buzz till bedtime and wake up fresh tomorrow".
One out of several times, I do just that. More often, I feel reawakened, not much differently than if my sleep lasted from when I blacked out to when all the shame and/or guilt passed, after my 3rd or 4th drink.
That's when Opportunity presents itself. Possibly (mis?)guided by optimism, I evaluate how the evenings going to pass. Option One: Even though I might want to drink, I don't, because I've heard that's the responsible thing to do. Enjoying myself will probably be made of watching DVDs and eating. Option several: Drink as much as I damn well please, and fuck tomorrow if it doesn't want to play ball.
Option one; the corny option; the option your mom would want me to take, doesn't put up a fight. You can read plenty about Sober artists and thinkers, and plenty about hard drinking artists and thinkers, but there is no congratulatory literature on the moderators. They're boring. And that's ultimately the conclusion I come to when I reach the "edge" between maintaining and indulging. It's too late to stop tonight; so go for broke.
This isn't an epiphany, it's what I think(more or less eloquently than stated here) every single morning and/or night. It's hard to maintain clarity and remember all this during a hangover, but when I do; I realize the only way to cut the bullshit is to get drunk quicker.
Start and maybe finish
I'm amused by the phrase "the creative force". It sounds so... forceful. It makes it sound as if the creative person was casually doing laundry, paying bills or some other monotonous chore and was suddenly taken and guided by an irresistible force that caused him to create something.
This has happened to me a handful of times in my life. Usually the results were fairly mediocre. I'm sure some of it may have been good, some of it not that good, if I could even remember. Similar results have been begot by me through sitting in a room alone and trying to turn boredom into genius. The same yield from getting uncomfortably drunk and writing every thought I had down. The same from drinking coffee until it did the work for me.
I haven't noticed a better quality output using any particular method. I've only noticed a decreased quantity from trying to optimize quality. It's a hard truth every creative person must face: If you decide to work on something, you may be wasting your time. Your ideas can't all bloom and blossom, some of them never even sprout.
There's no creative force, inspiration, drive or otherwise. There's only the act of creating, for any reason at all.
This has happened to me a handful of times in my life. Usually the results were fairly mediocre. I'm sure some of it may have been good, some of it not that good, if I could even remember. Similar results have been begot by me through sitting in a room alone and trying to turn boredom into genius. The same yield from getting uncomfortably drunk and writing every thought I had down. The same from drinking coffee until it did the work for me.
I haven't noticed a better quality output using any particular method. I've only noticed a decreased quantity from trying to optimize quality. It's a hard truth every creative person must face: If you decide to work on something, you may be wasting your time. Your ideas can't all bloom and blossom, some of them never even sprout.
There's no creative force, inspiration, drive or otherwise. There's only the act of creating, for any reason at all.
Liquor: the new water
The one and only time I was intoxicated on Magic Mushrooms, I was simultaneously wondering if I was a dipsomaniac, alcoholic, or just a heavy drinker for drinking more than most people do in my day-to-day life.
Even the reason I used mushrooms was influenced by wondering how being intoxicated on something else that's less addictive would make me feel about Alcohol, knowing that LSD had been used in the past with some success in treating alcoholism.. Mushrooms aren't exactly the same, but I'm not technically an alcoholic, so it was a smallest-effective-dose reasoning.
During the 7 hour trip I wasn't only thinking about that. In fact, I hardly thought of it at all. But I had an introspective stage in the kitchen, craving alcohol and deciding to "ask" my inner self how I felt about it, while simultaneously taking the first shot of the day. The shot went down easy, with no chaser, and I felt exactly the same, physically, and about the issue at hand. "Liquor is water" was my thought.
I know that I got no real answer from that phrase. Rather, I got an answer from the event. The whole thing made me feel silly immediately after the shot. I was asking a drug about another drug. But it didn't know, cause it couldn't. Mushrooms are food in the same way Liquor is water. There's no magic in the mushrooms and there's no demon in the rum.
Remember this: LSD treatments have been more effective than anything else in treating alcoholism. But they haven't been 100% effective. Some of the test subjects assuredly tripped balls, had an introspective moment much like mine that told them "get over yourself, you goof ball" and hit the sauce as soon as they could afterward. Or they possibly couldn't stop even with an LSD trips warning, seeing as how these were confirmed alcoholics and voluntary participants.
Liquor is water. Not literally, but in the sense that it is inert. It has no feelings or intentions. You have them. If you drink a large quanitity of alcohol and do something you regret, you have no business blaming the alcohol anymore than if you had drunk a large quantity of water. Drinker or non-drinker, drug user or not, Your personality is yours, and belongs to no drug use.
Even the reason I used mushrooms was influenced by wondering how being intoxicated on something else that's less addictive would make me feel about Alcohol, knowing that LSD had been used in the past with some success in treating alcoholism.. Mushrooms aren't exactly the same, but I'm not technically an alcoholic, so it was a smallest-effective-dose reasoning.
During the 7 hour trip I wasn't only thinking about that. In fact, I hardly thought of it at all. But I had an introspective stage in the kitchen, craving alcohol and deciding to "ask" my inner self how I felt about it, while simultaneously taking the first shot of the day. The shot went down easy, with no chaser, and I felt exactly the same, physically, and about the issue at hand. "Liquor is water" was my thought.
I know that I got no real answer from that phrase. Rather, I got an answer from the event. The whole thing made me feel silly immediately after the shot. I was asking a drug about another drug. But it didn't know, cause it couldn't. Mushrooms are food in the same way Liquor is water. There's no magic in the mushrooms and there's no demon in the rum.
Remember this: LSD treatments have been more effective than anything else in treating alcoholism. But they haven't been 100% effective. Some of the test subjects assuredly tripped balls, had an introspective moment much like mine that told them "get over yourself, you goof ball" and hit the sauce as soon as they could afterward. Or they possibly couldn't stop even with an LSD trips warning, seeing as how these were confirmed alcoholics and voluntary participants.
Liquor is water. Not literally, but in the sense that it is inert. It has no feelings or intentions. You have them. If you drink a large quanitity of alcohol and do something you regret, you have no business blaming the alcohol anymore than if you had drunk a large quantity of water. Drinker or non-drinker, drug user or not, Your personality is yours, and belongs to no drug use.
Man up and suck dick
Blowjobs are not difficult. It takes a little practice to make it pleasurable for both parties, but not much. Without that practice, it's either performed out of a sense of obligation or not performed, both of which are unacceptable.
Unfortunately, because of bad pornography directors/actors, blowjobs have gotten a bad rap. Many see it as a male exerting his dominance over a female. While this could be true in some cases, I don't think it's even true in most. A female is in control of a blowjob. A penis simply stands erect. The woman can do what she likes to it, including bite down is she thinks she's getting almost raped. Pornography is not an archive of common sexuality, it's a show.
A secondary criticism of a blowjob is that it is a cold, uncaring act. Even the word "job" lends creedence to this. But it's quite the opposite. A man feels wanted when a woman wants to have intercourse with him. A man feels LOVED when a woman wants to commit all 5 of her senses to pleasuring his rather boring penis. Any man who doesn't have tender feelings towards the person blowing him is a jerk.
The third and final criticism, that Tipper Gore probably has, is that the act itself is disgusting and shouldn't be considered expected sexuality. Why? When the penis is washed and there is consent involved, blowjob hating/fear is as stupid as menstruation hating/fear. Bodily processes. Get over it. You've had long enough to dull your senses to the opposite sexes less appealing parts. You either accept it, or you ought to be Asexual.
Yes, blowjobs are considered expected, at least sometimes, within a relationship. This appears to be a new trend(like this century), but why is it a bad one? You can see the same trend with oral sex on females- including the at-first-glance dominace act of facesitting. As people become less inhibited by religion or society they step up their game sexually. Ladies(and gay men), You're not required to suck dick, but I don't blame a man who leaves you because you won't.
Unfortunately, because of bad pornography directors/actors, blowjobs have gotten a bad rap. Many see it as a male exerting his dominance over a female. While this could be true in some cases, I don't think it's even true in most. A female is in control of a blowjob. A penis simply stands erect. The woman can do what she likes to it, including bite down is she thinks she's getting almost raped. Pornography is not an archive of common sexuality, it's a show.
A secondary criticism of a blowjob is that it is a cold, uncaring act. Even the word "job" lends creedence to this. But it's quite the opposite. A man feels wanted when a woman wants to have intercourse with him. A man feels LOVED when a woman wants to commit all 5 of her senses to pleasuring his rather boring penis. Any man who doesn't have tender feelings towards the person blowing him is a jerk.
The third and final criticism, that Tipper Gore probably has, is that the act itself is disgusting and shouldn't be considered expected sexuality. Why? When the penis is washed and there is consent involved, blowjob hating/fear is as stupid as menstruation hating/fear. Bodily processes. Get over it. You've had long enough to dull your senses to the opposite sexes less appealing parts. You either accept it, or you ought to be Asexual.
Yes, blowjobs are considered expected, at least sometimes, within a relationship. This appears to be a new trend(like this century), but why is it a bad one? You can see the same trend with oral sex on females- including the at-first-glance dominace act of facesitting. As people become less inhibited by religion or society they step up their game sexually. Ladies(and gay men), You're not required to suck dick, but I don't blame a man who leaves you because you won't.
Overwork
I work alot, often more than 40 hours a week. I don't do this out of any kind of personal guilt or religious-based principle. I used to hate being at work and did it as little as possible. At some point, my opinions and lifestyle choices shifted and re-aligned in such a way to send the signal: "WORK!". For these reasons:
1- The male biological clock.
It appears those I meet with a similar disposition are all Men, and are all 21-27. For me it was 22. I can't be sure if it's actually hormonal or a choice based on reason- But you feel as strong as an Ox, sharp as a tack, you have all the disposable time in the world, and you know that won't always be the case. So, "make hay while the sun is shining".
2- Make money.
So your employer is an asshole who doesn't pay you what you deserve? Telling him that won't get you anything. Instead, show up early, leave late, cover shifts, milk the clock, just hang around clocked in whenever no one will stop you. If you get paid overtime, you've given yourself a raise. This method is self-sustaining. The more time spent at work is less time you'll spend money. Ask someone who knows; it adds up.
3- Your brain is an idiot.
Some people are under the impression that your brain knows where you are and what you're doing, keeps track of where you've been and what you were doing, and reminds you of any stress you're having or have had for the rest of your life. Truth is, your deep-brain; that is, the parts that control creativity and love-making, can't tell the difference between 12 hours working and 12 hours watching that season of Venture Brothers(again). The only part that can tell is your consciousness, and you can minimize or eliminate the stress on it but simply spacing out.
4- Your brain is smart.
I may be only speaking for myself here, but I once thought that time spent becoming more competent at work, or a better employee, would somehow cut into my personal development and enrichment. As if learning a restaurant menu would halt that great idea I was just having. Unless you keep the contents of your brain in an overloaded briefcase, there's no truth to that. Your brain wants to and can master multiple tasks, both labor and leisure.
5- For the lulz.
It's often said by mouth-breathers that people wouldn't need to use drugs if they weren't so stressed from making enough money to purchase drugs. Therefore, its best to limit the amount of stress one has, including work, and instead live in a self-important idol haze. Other mouth-breathers counter that "someone needs to do some damn work!". Well, yes, many people are at work right now so you can have leisure time to read this(truckers, electricians, plumbers), but even they might be overworking for the previously mentioned reasons.
6- For the lulz, again.
In theory I could budget the amount of money I make with the amount of food/electricity/shelter I require perfectly, and have tons of time left over to do what I like for it's own sake(as long as it's free). But get real, you know I wouldn't and you know you wouldn't. You would get bored as shit and start pushing your limits. I'd rather work hard and drink harder then sit around thinking about how efficient I am.
1- The male biological clock.
It appears those I meet with a similar disposition are all Men, and are all 21-27. For me it was 22. I can't be sure if it's actually hormonal or a choice based on reason- But you feel as strong as an Ox, sharp as a tack, you have all the disposable time in the world, and you know that won't always be the case. So, "make hay while the sun is shining".
2- Make money.
So your employer is an asshole who doesn't pay you what you deserve? Telling him that won't get you anything. Instead, show up early, leave late, cover shifts, milk the clock, just hang around clocked in whenever no one will stop you. If you get paid overtime, you've given yourself a raise. This method is self-sustaining. The more time spent at work is less time you'll spend money. Ask someone who knows; it adds up.
3- Your brain is an idiot.
Some people are under the impression that your brain knows where you are and what you're doing, keeps track of where you've been and what you were doing, and reminds you of any stress you're having or have had for the rest of your life. Truth is, your deep-brain; that is, the parts that control creativity and love-making, can't tell the difference between 12 hours working and 12 hours watching that season of Venture Brothers(again). The only part that can tell is your consciousness, and you can minimize or eliminate the stress on it but simply spacing out.
4- Your brain is smart.
I may be only speaking for myself here, but I once thought that time spent becoming more competent at work, or a better employee, would somehow cut into my personal development and enrichment. As if learning a restaurant menu would halt that great idea I was just having. Unless you keep the contents of your brain in an overloaded briefcase, there's no truth to that. Your brain wants to and can master multiple tasks, both labor and leisure.
5- For the lulz.
It's often said by mouth-breathers that people wouldn't need to use drugs if they weren't so stressed from making enough money to purchase drugs. Therefore, its best to limit the amount of stress one has, including work, and instead live in a self-important idol haze. Other mouth-breathers counter that "someone needs to do some damn work!". Well, yes, many people are at work right now so you can have leisure time to read this(truckers, electricians, plumbers), but even they might be overworking for the previously mentioned reasons.
6- For the lulz, again.
In theory I could budget the amount of money I make with the amount of food/electricity/shelter I require perfectly, and have tons of time left over to do what I like for it's own sake(as long as it's free). But get real, you know I wouldn't and you know you wouldn't. You would get bored as shit and start pushing your limits. I'd rather work hard and drink harder then sit around thinking about how efficient I am.
Reading comic books while I wait.
I've always loved this particular Calvin and Hobbes strip. I'm not one to make too much of a simple piece of entertainment, like the woman who wrote this, but I must say without hyperbole, that this comic strip's insights about life would cause a thousand gods in a thousand universes to cry tears of relief, if only they were lucky enough to see it.
Off the bat it brings up the idea of "success". For many people "success" is as corny as their daily horoscope and worded just the same, if I could be so bold as to imitate: "I just wanna be successful. Ya'know, like have some good friends and be able to visit my family and have a job that gets me enough money to have that car in that commercial on my cable TV set. Also, I don't want any big meanies hanging around!".
However, since this is Calvin's character speaking, you know "success" is something more grandiose, sinister, and by extension; fun. Which is my idea of success. Extraordinary success. The kind of success wherein I could find a schizophrenic homeless person and award him with Joe-dime-bag-of-mexican-weed's idea of success just for the lulz.
Calvin uses sense and logic to resolve the issue, but like always, because living life is not as much like solving a math problem as it should be, his solution is too simple. And begs these questions:
1-What is the right place?, and
2-Wouldn't it be boring just waiting for the right time?
Hobbes response "Being with you, it's just one epiphany after another" could roughly translate to "That's sort of clever, but you sound like a punk bitch", which is exactly what my more self-aware thoughts are telling me about this post right now. Coincidence? No.
Calvin's final suggestion is the heart of the exchange. He wants success, but he's rationalizing what he wants to do anyhow as a step to success. I see myself and many of my creative friends that way. If you really believe the "right place at the right time" method, you might be able to calculate the right place and the right time for success, but if you can't enjoy yourself before then, who wants it?
So do it like Calvin(always the best option): Do what you like, and eventually it might be the right place at the right time.
I want to be old
Why do I want to be older? Older people are given the benefit of the doubt, and a certain amount of respect that young adults and children can't count on. A child's life is loose pebbles, a young adults is wet concrete, and an old persons is cinder block. No one is trying to tell and old person how it is and how its going to be. They get to truly be themselves. Observe:
This young woman smoking looks like she's playing with her toys.
This old man smoking looks like he knows what he's doing.
This guy looks like a total fucking tool. I'd like to tell him to knock it off.
If I told this guy to knock it off, it looks like I'd get the shit smacked out of me.
I think it's human instinct to let old people be themselves. They look like they've dealt with enough shit already; so much so that you should just let them be. I'd trade looks and athleticism for that any day.
This young woman smoking looks like she's playing with her toys.
This old man smoking looks like he knows what he's doing.
This guy looks like a total fucking tool. I'd like to tell him to knock it off.
If I told this guy to knock it off, it looks like I'd get the shit smacked out of me.
I think it's human instinct to let old people be themselves. They look like they've dealt with enough shit already; so much so that you should just let them be. I'd trade looks and athleticism for that any day.
shit just got real
The collective American psyche was never more simple than during George W. Bush's final years in office. Through his various follies and misdeeds, he became the face of everything that was going wrong.
George W. Bush was everywhere. He was in more places than fast food, Schrodinger's cat, and even god... because he was in the toilet. While American citizens claimed to hate him, they really loved to hate him. Comedians, Political "thinkers", former supporters, and Joe Pint-bottle-of-mad-dog-20-20 alike didn't miss a beat; whenever they could tear him apart they did.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
What's wrong is thinking that the next president could, and would want to, end everything that was started in the last 8 years just by snapping his fingers and saying "shit just got Obama'd!". In a spectacular display of optimism, or rather; magical thinking, many Americans forgot or ignored how little power the president actually has, forgot or ignored Obama's actual positions, and exaggerated the importance of "being able to read good" with savior-like status.
Instead of a symbol of everything that's wrong, like Bush; Obama was used as a symbol of everything that's right.
But now that the economy is still in the shitter, there may be even more troops sent to "win" the "war", and Guantanamo bay is still operational after it was "being closed" as a first order of business on January 21st, Americans are starting to realize neither Icon is correct.
The cows already came home and they're infected with H1N1. We can't wait for a fool president to leave or a golden president to arrive, we have to get results ourselves. Shit just got real.
George W. Bush was everywhere. He was in more places than fast food, Schrodinger's cat, and even god... because he was in the toilet. While American citizens claimed to hate him, they really loved to hate him. Comedians, Political "thinkers", former supporters, and Joe Pint-bottle-of-mad-dog-20-20 alike didn't miss a beat; whenever they could tear him apart they did.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
What's wrong is thinking that the next president could, and would want to, end everything that was started in the last 8 years just by snapping his fingers and saying "shit just got Obama'd!". In a spectacular display of optimism, or rather; magical thinking, many Americans forgot or ignored how little power the president actually has, forgot or ignored Obama's actual positions, and exaggerated the importance of "being able to read good" with savior-like status.
Instead of a symbol of everything that's wrong, like Bush; Obama was used as a symbol of everything that's right.
But now that the economy is still in the shitter, there may be even more troops sent to "win" the "war", and Guantanamo bay is still operational after it was "being closed" as a first order of business on January 21st, Americans are starting to realize neither Icon is correct.
The cows already came home and they're infected with H1N1. We can't wait for a fool president to leave or a golden president to arrive, we have to get results ourselves. Shit just got real.
214
This is the 214th post on this blog, and I am now taking an extended leave(anywhere from several days to months)
I'm not one for traditionalism, but I am one for skepticism. The new trends in social networking software, including blogs, is that people are deserving of attention without doing anything out of the ordinary.
For example. I write a blog post, follow up with updating my facebook status to "is feeling manic", and change the picture I choose to represent myself. For those who are interested in me: friends, I have slightly altered how the feel about me for the moment.
I certainly desire praise and admiration, but facebook/twitter/blogs seem like an altogether too easy way to get it. I'm not taking time off from it because I'm way too cool to receive attention, much the opposite. I'm taking time off because when I receive attention, I want it to be for something substantial.
That said, I'll be back when I have new music/new shows/new writing that's good. If you want to know about anything else, call me.
I'm not one for traditionalism, but I am one for skepticism. The new trends in social networking software, including blogs, is that people are deserving of attention without doing anything out of the ordinary.
For example. I write a blog post, follow up with updating my facebook status to "is feeling manic", and change the picture I choose to represent myself. For those who are interested in me: friends, I have slightly altered how the feel about me for the moment.
I certainly desire praise and admiration, but facebook/twitter/blogs seem like an altogether too easy way to get it. I'm not taking time off from it because I'm way too cool to receive attention, much the opposite. I'm taking time off because when I receive attention, I want it to be for something substantial.
That said, I'll be back when I have new music/new shows/new writing that's good. If you want to know about anything else, call me.
cobe
It's a cliche to hear something like "back in those days, I thought I was invincible. Yep, back in my 20's. Then it all caught up with me". Careful not to have anything catch up with me, I was also careful not to give in to feeling invincible. And I don't, at least compared to the average young adult.
But in the past few weeks, much like hunger pangs, I've been hit with power pangs. For 1-30 minutes I will feel strong as a damn ox and sharp as a damn tack, with no hangover or moment of reprisal afterwards. On some level, it's true.
These feelings coincided with the idea of being a drifter. I've already moved to one city for no particular reason looking for nothing in particular, so the choice presents itself: figure it was a wierd type of vacation, or do it again for no particular reason. When I discussed this with others, I was a bit surprised by their envious faces. Some even said "I wish I could do that".
The question is obvious- why couldn't they do that? Well, they could, but they won't, and I think that is the line I can draw between the youth populous at large and me. Like a person with a family, they feel tied down to whatever they've created/started where they are. I have certainly felt that way, but I was lucky enough not to feel guilty/lazy enough to be bound by it. The idea that I can go wherever I can get to, get a low-paying job, and be in just as good a situation as I was before, and possibly a better one, is liberating on many levels.
I think the power-pangs are the result of feeling like everything in my life is lining up. The smallest, most wasteful action I take is a piece of something larger. Whether it is or not is an unanswered question, but the fact that I can feel like all my false starts are a bridge makes everything seem worthwhile.
You can always tell how valid your feelings are by how weird the song-lyric is that reminds you of it. The wierder and more obscure the song, the more valid the feeling. So in the words of emcee "beans":
I did it cause you didn't.
But in the past few weeks, much like hunger pangs, I've been hit with power pangs. For 1-30 minutes I will feel strong as a damn ox and sharp as a damn tack, with no hangover or moment of reprisal afterwards. On some level, it's true.
These feelings coincided with the idea of being a drifter. I've already moved to one city for no particular reason looking for nothing in particular, so the choice presents itself: figure it was a wierd type of vacation, or do it again for no particular reason. When I discussed this with others, I was a bit surprised by their envious faces. Some even said "I wish I could do that".
The question is obvious- why couldn't they do that? Well, they could, but they won't, and I think that is the line I can draw between the youth populous at large and me. Like a person with a family, they feel tied down to whatever they've created/started where they are. I have certainly felt that way, but I was lucky enough not to feel guilty/lazy enough to be bound by it. The idea that I can go wherever I can get to, get a low-paying job, and be in just as good a situation as I was before, and possibly a better one, is liberating on many levels.
I think the power-pangs are the result of feeling like everything in my life is lining up. The smallest, most wasteful action I take is a piece of something larger. Whether it is or not is an unanswered question, but the fact that I can feel like all my false starts are a bridge makes everything seem worthwhile.
You can always tell how valid your feelings are by how weird the song-lyric is that reminds you of it. The wierder and more obscure the song, the more valid the feeling. So in the words of emcee "beans":
I did it cause you didn't.
things that don't work
There are way too many things that don't work to list them all in a single blog post. Perhaps an ongoing, never-ending blog could get closer and closer, in the sense of figuring out pi to more decimal places gets "closer and closer".
A service I can do for you is to at least offer the things that don't work that are close to my heart. The things that don't work that I hold onto for dear life, against my better judgment and all objectivity, hoping that one day they will indeed "start working" if I try harder at making them not work.
-the "loaded up day"
Have an epic amount of menial shit to take care of? How about just planning to do it all tomorrow/a day off? Lots of reasons. Though it's very attractive to think that will be the day everything gets settled and you can get drunk with a clear conscience several moments later, I know through repeated error and error that it doesn't work. It's encouraging on the day you think of it because you can put it off longer, but it's extremely discouraging to wake up to a list that contains a day's worth of boring obligations. So at best you will begin on the first thing, rush the work, and become too upset to do anything thereafter.
-being social
Socialization just occurs. Even for border-borderline schizoid individuals like me, sometimes between periods of socialization, lonliness is felt. The right reaction is "time to watch kids in the hall". The wrong reaction is "I better put myself 'out there'"(whatever that means). Friends made out of emotional neccessity are not real friends. They are mildly amusing characters who you won't want hanging around asking you "how you've been". Wait it out, and the right people will be drawn to you and you to them. People that make an effort to make friends always end up getting fucked over(or bothered) by people they find out are strangers.
-technology will take care of it
Though "communication" has increased with the advent of the internet and cell phones, and I realize how helpful it is sometimes, it can't replace actually popping over(within a half hour) and being face to face. Our great-ape biology has not caught up with the internet, and won't. The difference between sending facebook messages and actually being in the same place as a friend is like the difference between masturbating to porno and having sex. This applies to non-social things as well. You can do all the wikipedia research you want on a city and still have no clue what it's like till you go there.
-getting a thing that makes money
Unfortunately, in any case besides counterfeiting money, this is untrue. Any investment you make will take time and effort to get a return on. Let's say you buy 100 dollars worth of drugs to sell for 200 dollars and make 100 dollars profit. Well, if it takes you more than 18 hours to aquire and sell the drugs, you're already working for less than minimum wage with no other expenses calculated. There sadly just isn't a thing that generates profit while you watch the upright citizens brigade... until I invent it.
A service I can do for you is to at least offer the things that don't work that are close to my heart. The things that don't work that I hold onto for dear life, against my better judgment and all objectivity, hoping that one day they will indeed "start working" if I try harder at making them not work.
-the "loaded up day"
Have an epic amount of menial shit to take care of? How about just planning to do it all tomorrow/a day off? Lots of reasons. Though it's very attractive to think that will be the day everything gets settled and you can get drunk with a clear conscience several moments later, I know through repeated error and error that it doesn't work. It's encouraging on the day you think of it because you can put it off longer, but it's extremely discouraging to wake up to a list that contains a day's worth of boring obligations. So at best you will begin on the first thing, rush the work, and become too upset to do anything thereafter.
-being social
Socialization just occurs. Even for border-borderline schizoid individuals like me, sometimes between periods of socialization, lonliness is felt. The right reaction is "time to watch kids in the hall". The wrong reaction is "I better put myself 'out there'"(whatever that means). Friends made out of emotional neccessity are not real friends. They are mildly amusing characters who you won't want hanging around asking you "how you've been". Wait it out, and the right people will be drawn to you and you to them. People that make an effort to make friends always end up getting fucked over(or bothered) by people they find out are strangers.
-technology will take care of it
Though "communication" has increased with the advent of the internet and cell phones, and I realize how helpful it is sometimes, it can't replace actually popping over(within a half hour) and being face to face. Our great-ape biology has not caught up with the internet, and won't. The difference between sending facebook messages and actually being in the same place as a friend is like the difference between masturbating to porno and having sex. This applies to non-social things as well. You can do all the wikipedia research you want on a city and still have no clue what it's like till you go there.
-getting a thing that makes money
Unfortunately, in any case besides counterfeiting money, this is untrue. Any investment you make will take time and effort to get a return on. Let's say you buy 100 dollars worth of drugs to sell for 200 dollars and make 100 dollars profit. Well, if it takes you more than 18 hours to aquire and sell the drugs, you're already working for less than minimum wage with no other expenses calculated. There sadly just isn't a thing that generates profit while you watch the upright citizens brigade... until I invent it.
slightly cleaned slate
I woke up a little confused, on a friends couch, not remembering some of last night. I had a neuron-shattering headache. There was an empty fifth of $10 bourbon on the kitchen counter, a 1/4 full drink and a half-eaten bag of popcorn on the table next to me. I felt like a new man.
I've overcome physical withdrawal, simple compulsion and social pressures to drink. I feel fine sober, and not like I am missing anything. But the one thing that keeps me coming back to the crazy water is the incredible clarity that follows a binge.
That's why I don't support moderation. I've tried it, having exactly 3 drinks a day just to "keep things together". It didn't work. I would wait, ridiculously, until my silly few drinks of the day, wish I had more, and repeat. I've tried sobriety. But lifes obligations have a way of piling up. The more they pile up, the more overwhelmed and unhappy I get, and the less I do them. Unless...
I get to take some time off. I'm not talking about reading a book, watching a movie or taking a nap. That time is most certainly time ON. I'm talking about higher-brain shut off, bodily functions barely still in check, thinking I'm the apex of human advancement while I feel the room spin down and to the left. That is a real vacation, it's a real break.
I used to think I didn't get hangovers, but recently I've noticed that I just ignore them, because the catharsis overwhelms most any physical discomfort. I have been calmed, reassured. I don't have any awkward time lying alone in a cold bed feeling wide-awake, because I didn't even remember going to bed, and if I did, I was wrapped in a 2.0 B.A.C. blanket.
I've overcome physical withdrawal, simple compulsion and social pressures to drink. I feel fine sober, and not like I am missing anything. But the one thing that keeps me coming back to the crazy water is the incredible clarity that follows a binge.
That's why I don't support moderation. I've tried it, having exactly 3 drinks a day just to "keep things together". It didn't work. I would wait, ridiculously, until my silly few drinks of the day, wish I had more, and repeat. I've tried sobriety. But lifes obligations have a way of piling up. The more they pile up, the more overwhelmed and unhappy I get, and the less I do them. Unless...
I get to take some time off. I'm not talking about reading a book, watching a movie or taking a nap. That time is most certainly time ON. I'm talking about higher-brain shut off, bodily functions barely still in check, thinking I'm the apex of human advancement while I feel the room spin down and to the left. That is a real vacation, it's a real break.
I used to think I didn't get hangovers, but recently I've noticed that I just ignore them, because the catharsis overwhelms most any physical discomfort. I have been calmed, reassured. I don't have any awkward time lying alone in a cold bed feeling wide-awake, because I didn't even remember going to bed, and if I did, I was wrapped in a 2.0 B.A.C. blanket.
I don't play in a league
So there's a young woman who came into my place of employment today. I found out she's a co-worker, although I'd never seen her before. That's because she works 1 shift a week, at a time when I've incidentally never had to work. So we were introduced as a basic custom, and I had no reason not to like her. Oh yeah, and she was fucking gorgeous.
So, immediately after she left, I asked another male co-worker if she was exclusively committed to anyone sexually(not in those words) and his response was "YOU'RE gonna try to go out with HER?". After he saw I took offense to his level of surprise, he kept quiet. Though I felt personally slighted, it just reminded me of a huge difference between me and seemingly the rest of the world save 2 friends of mine.
I don't want to echo the cliches "what have you got to lose?" "better to try than go through life thinking what could've been" and even "just be yourself". But I think I have to. You have nothing to lose, it's better to try than go through life thinking what could've been, and just be yourself. I have to repeat it because it's true on all counts.
So imagine this. I ask this girl out on a date(pending I find out she's single, which I didn't find out). The worst case scenario in most peoples minds is "she says no". Well, so the fuck what? She is reassured she's hot shit, I have reassured her I'm confident in myself, and I'm at the exact same place I was before doing it. And best case, she's awesome and I get to indulge in carnal pleasures with her.
Though not explicitly said, it was clear that my simple-minded coworker believed in "leagues". That is, that she, being really hot and pleasant to speak to, was in a better "league" than me, a person who typically has stubble from being too lazy to shave and won't speak except to express luciferian ambitions. Well, needless to say, I don't believe in that bullshit, and I wouldn't want to be involved with anyone who does. So again, there is a staggeringly low amount to "lose". If she is like me, then I could hit a grand slam, and if she does indeed think she's too good for me, I'm at an even better place then I was because I know we wouldn't get along, rather than wondering what pleasures could have been had.
It coincided with something I heard a week before. That was that you shouldn't pick a partner that is worse or even equal to your last one. The speaker added "why take a step backwards? fuck that shit!". I couldn't have said it better. People who play in their own "leagues" are really doing themselves and others a disservice. Not only are you settling for less, but it leaves you tied down to less, bound by less.
All because you're afraid of rejection? Who could care? You're rejected by every light that turns red while you drive and every popcorn kernel that just doesn't pop in a bag. It doesn't mean you don't drive and don't eat popcorn.
So, immediately after she left, I asked another male co-worker if she was exclusively committed to anyone sexually(not in those words) and his response was "YOU'RE gonna try to go out with HER?". After he saw I took offense to his level of surprise, he kept quiet. Though I felt personally slighted, it just reminded me of a huge difference between me and seemingly the rest of the world save 2 friends of mine.
I don't want to echo the cliches "what have you got to lose?" "better to try than go through life thinking what could've been" and even "just be yourself". But I think I have to. You have nothing to lose, it's better to try than go through life thinking what could've been, and just be yourself. I have to repeat it because it's true on all counts.
So imagine this. I ask this girl out on a date(pending I find out she's single, which I didn't find out). The worst case scenario in most peoples minds is "she says no". Well, so the fuck what? She is reassured she's hot shit, I have reassured her I'm confident in myself, and I'm at the exact same place I was before doing it. And best case, she's awesome and I get to indulge in carnal pleasures with her.
Though not explicitly said, it was clear that my simple-minded coworker believed in "leagues". That is, that she, being really hot and pleasant to speak to, was in a better "league" than me, a person who typically has stubble from being too lazy to shave and won't speak except to express luciferian ambitions. Well, needless to say, I don't believe in that bullshit, and I wouldn't want to be involved with anyone who does. So again, there is a staggeringly low amount to "lose". If she is like me, then I could hit a grand slam, and if she does indeed think she's too good for me, I'm at an even better place then I was because I know we wouldn't get along, rather than wondering what pleasures could have been had.
It coincided with something I heard a week before. That was that you shouldn't pick a partner that is worse or even equal to your last one. The speaker added "why take a step backwards? fuck that shit!". I couldn't have said it better. People who play in their own "leagues" are really doing themselves and others a disservice. Not only are you settling for less, but it leaves you tied down to less, bound by less.
All because you're afraid of rejection? Who could care? You're rejected by every light that turns red while you drive and every popcorn kernel that just doesn't pop in a bag. It doesn't mean you don't drive and don't eat popcorn.
on point
"On point" might be my favorite positive descriptor for someone. I've used it to describe myself, and now 2 groups of people in 2 different cities have used it to describe me as well, which is flattering.
Being on point is a very specific thing. It means you are aware as you can be of what's going on, and what's about to happen. However, it doesn't mean you aren't also daydreaming. You couldn't be driving your car and only thinking "I'm operating heavy machinery. I'm driving. Watch for dangers. I'm operating heavy machinery..." or you'd lose your mind, and be very much not on point thereafter.
There is a type of person that is completely absorbed in what they're doing, but that's not the same thing. They typically lose perspective. Because if you're concentrating on drying laundry, you'll become very upset when your clothes come out still wet. When things are emotionalized as such, that person who was once on point is now just melodramatic.
There is also the "space case" oriented individual, who isn't easily upset by the material world, but is also not competent. It's nice to be in your own world all the time, but if the outside world is neglected too often/much then it tends to disrupt your dream world very aggressively, and could sometimes be dangerous.
Being on point is not a middleground, but being both extremes essentially at the same time. Not only is the person giving their whole effort into what they're doing, but they are remembing the big picture at the same time, so they are not over-stressed.
An easy way to classify someone in a group is to see what happens when they make a mistake. The melodramatic person will become extremely upset, the space case will not notice, and the person who fixes it with ease is on point.
____
Interesting aside: to go to sleep, I typically try to see how many thoughts/processes of a different nature I can juggle simultaneously. I'll start counting or reciting the alphabet, while dreaming of a beautiful landscape and imaging colored shapes. Any 3 things can be juggled. I can't do more than that without becoming self-aware, but I speculate that it's good practice to be on point and at the same time, It puts me out like a light.
Being on point is a very specific thing. It means you are aware as you can be of what's going on, and what's about to happen. However, it doesn't mean you aren't also daydreaming. You couldn't be driving your car and only thinking "I'm operating heavy machinery. I'm driving. Watch for dangers. I'm operating heavy machinery..." or you'd lose your mind, and be very much not on point thereafter.
There is a type of person that is completely absorbed in what they're doing, but that's not the same thing. They typically lose perspective. Because if you're concentrating on drying laundry, you'll become very upset when your clothes come out still wet. When things are emotionalized as such, that person who was once on point is now just melodramatic.
There is also the "space case" oriented individual, who isn't easily upset by the material world, but is also not competent. It's nice to be in your own world all the time, but if the outside world is neglected too often/much then it tends to disrupt your dream world very aggressively, and could sometimes be dangerous.
Being on point is not a middleground, but being both extremes essentially at the same time. Not only is the person giving their whole effort into what they're doing, but they are remembing the big picture at the same time, so they are not over-stressed.
An easy way to classify someone in a group is to see what happens when they make a mistake. The melodramatic person will become extremely upset, the space case will not notice, and the person who fixes it with ease is on point.
____
Interesting aside: to go to sleep, I typically try to see how many thoughts/processes of a different nature I can juggle simultaneously. I'll start counting or reciting the alphabet, while dreaming of a beautiful landscape and imaging colored shapes. Any 3 things can be juggled. I can't do more than that without becoming self-aware, but I speculate that it's good practice to be on point and at the same time, It puts me out like a light.
Love: The Bringer of War
"There's never been a good war, or a bad peace".
Love is war, and without it I am at peace. The very nature of a relationship is conflict, without conflict there is just cohabitating people gratifying their sexual urges. I only realized this when I was cohabitating with a woman, gratifying her sexual urges, and she would let me know that we're not in a relationship yet. So what change could possibly happen to turn the relationship "on" from just playing around? Exclusive sexuality?
And there arises the conflict in most, the exclusive nature. It is truly violent to try to keep a person for yourself. If I knew a talented musician, but insisted he only play his music for me, and became angered when he played for someone else, I would be at best jealous and at worst abusive. What then is not abusive about not allowing a human being from having sex with someone else?
That sparked my interest in polyamory. The idea behind polyamory is that someones sexuality is their own, and they could give it to more than one person if they pleased. Some agreements go further to be "closed" to anyone outside of the initial grouping. I tried it, and found it preferable to the traditional coupling mentality. But the enemy of my enemy is not my friend, and it presented many problems itself. Jealousy is what comes to most peoples mind, but that passes fairly quickly. Afterwards, there is all kinds of other unpleasantness. There is a competitiveness. Either I feel inadequate, or I feel superior to my partners partner. In either case, I am harboring negative feeling towards a person I think should be afforded the same freedoms and pleasures I am.
There is hate for your fellow man deep within every utterance of "I love you". I love my family, but I don't tell them on a regular basis, I don't feel the need to after doing it the first time. Unless I don't anymore, I have enough good will to assume they know, and unless something extraordinary happens like they feel incredibly low, I don't say it again. When romantic partners say "I love you" to eachother, I wonder why they think they have to say it. There is unease. "I love you" is in a sense passive aggressive. The person must say it back, and the first person to say it in a series has always won that particular power struggle.
And the power struggle permeates elsewhere. Both partners may assure the person they're with they'd rather be with them than any other person, but after being dumped a few times, a person realizes people are only as truthful as their options. It may be true at the time, but desires and appetites change sometimes as often as the seasons, and when one person wants to still be with someone, but the object of affection fancies someone else, It can't help but cross the "dumped" parties mind that they are inferior to the next in line.
I do not say this to reiterate "love can hurt one's feelings", which is apparent. Instead, it's that love itself is a fight. That's why the nonsense of a "mutual breakup" exists. And the sense of "it's never mutual" also exists. After each relationship, someone had a victory. Firstly it's who dumps who first, then it's who hurts who first, who feels the most guilty, who's moved on best. The whole thing is an insult to the idea that each person needs to be treated with love and respect. And in this sense romantic love is antithetical to love for all of humanity.
Of note is that sexual gratification, friendship, and emotional support can be had outside of a romantic relationship. So if you crave these things, like most do, You are not between in a rock and a hard place. I myself crave these things, and from this moment on I promise you will not see me in the ugly power struggle, the hate-filled timebomb we call an romantic relationship. Instead, each of my appetites will be filled on their own terms, accepting no emotional abuse that exists in even the simplest demands of a relationship.
I am a free agent, and except for those who resent my position, will cause no ill will amongst the females I spend time with, as friends or sexual partners. I can't break your heart, because I won't ask for it, or take it through manipulation. I can never again be someone who alienated your girlfriends affection for you, because I didn't ask for her affection. I am no longer a warpig.
Love is war, and without it I am at peace. The very nature of a relationship is conflict, without conflict there is just cohabitating people gratifying their sexual urges. I only realized this when I was cohabitating with a woman, gratifying her sexual urges, and she would let me know that we're not in a relationship yet. So what change could possibly happen to turn the relationship "on" from just playing around? Exclusive sexuality?
And there arises the conflict in most, the exclusive nature. It is truly violent to try to keep a person for yourself. If I knew a talented musician, but insisted he only play his music for me, and became angered when he played for someone else, I would be at best jealous and at worst abusive. What then is not abusive about not allowing a human being from having sex with someone else?
That sparked my interest in polyamory. The idea behind polyamory is that someones sexuality is their own, and they could give it to more than one person if they pleased. Some agreements go further to be "closed" to anyone outside of the initial grouping. I tried it, and found it preferable to the traditional coupling mentality. But the enemy of my enemy is not my friend, and it presented many problems itself. Jealousy is what comes to most peoples mind, but that passes fairly quickly. Afterwards, there is all kinds of other unpleasantness. There is a competitiveness. Either I feel inadequate, or I feel superior to my partners partner. In either case, I am harboring negative feeling towards a person I think should be afforded the same freedoms and pleasures I am.
There is hate for your fellow man deep within every utterance of "I love you". I love my family, but I don't tell them on a regular basis, I don't feel the need to after doing it the first time. Unless I don't anymore, I have enough good will to assume they know, and unless something extraordinary happens like they feel incredibly low, I don't say it again. When romantic partners say "I love you" to eachother, I wonder why they think they have to say it. There is unease. "I love you" is in a sense passive aggressive. The person must say it back, and the first person to say it in a series has always won that particular power struggle.
And the power struggle permeates elsewhere. Both partners may assure the person they're with they'd rather be with them than any other person, but after being dumped a few times, a person realizes people are only as truthful as their options. It may be true at the time, but desires and appetites change sometimes as often as the seasons, and when one person wants to still be with someone, but the object of affection fancies someone else, It can't help but cross the "dumped" parties mind that they are inferior to the next in line.
I do not say this to reiterate "love can hurt one's feelings", which is apparent. Instead, it's that love itself is a fight. That's why the nonsense of a "mutual breakup" exists. And the sense of "it's never mutual" also exists. After each relationship, someone had a victory. Firstly it's who dumps who first, then it's who hurts who first, who feels the most guilty, who's moved on best. The whole thing is an insult to the idea that each person needs to be treated with love and respect. And in this sense romantic love is antithetical to love for all of humanity.
Of note is that sexual gratification, friendship, and emotional support can be had outside of a romantic relationship. So if you crave these things, like most do, You are not between in a rock and a hard place. I myself crave these things, and from this moment on I promise you will not see me in the ugly power struggle, the hate-filled timebomb we call an romantic relationship. Instead, each of my appetites will be filled on their own terms, accepting no emotional abuse that exists in even the simplest demands of a relationship.
I am a free agent, and except for those who resent my position, will cause no ill will amongst the females I spend time with, as friends or sexual partners. I can't break your heart, because I won't ask for it, or take it through manipulation. I can never again be someone who alienated your girlfriends affection for you, because I didn't ask for her affection. I am no longer a warpig.
are you white trash?
I was born in a trailer(note: not a hospital close to the trailer park, in a trailer) and moved to the suburbs only by the mercy of my father(occasionally called “ma daddy” in white trash tribes) being able to afford a dilapidated 95,000 dollar home. At this point, I thought I had taken a large step from being “white trash” to “white”, but slowly realized that economic standing had nothing to do with being white trash.
White trash is a cultural group I still identify with. In many ways, I am grateful for the existence of the phrase, for saving me the trouble of spending every waking moment on being lame and compromising like the “white not-trash”(if there can be such a thing) that surrounds me. Are you white trash? Well, if you don’t identify as another racial group and it’s subsets for whatever reason, and are what bigots call an “under-achiever”, then you are halfway there. The other cultural markers are this:
You don’t drink alcohol/drink A LOT of alcohol...
Moderation is something that people latch onto to coast through life without conflict, out of fear or lack of substance. Not only is a white trash specimen fearless, they are confident in their decisions to the point where they actually let their excess guide them, example: “let the liquor do the thinking”. To qualify as a non-drinker example, you don’t drink for a reason besides your own health.
You have lots of pets(bonus points: non-mammal pets)(extra bonus: pets that are illegal to own)...
If you plan on dying without being surrounded by more than one dog/cat/bird/snake/colony of venomous insects your family will have to take as your only inheritance, you can’t qualify. I really can’t figure this out, but White Trash people love animals, and the weirder the better. If you received an exotic pet as a present before puberty, you can be sure your parents were white trash. If you asked for it, you are too.
You’ve smoked cigarette butts/ used chewing tobacco...
Without nicotine, there would be white-trash spree killings on a [more] regular basis. Nicotine appeals to the psyche of the white trash individual the same way it appeals to others, but white trash is differentiated in that they have scraped the bottom of the barrel to get nicotine at moments of poverty, instead of thinking “this is a waste of time and money”. To white trash, nothing is a waste of time or money.
You like boats/water/vacation cruises...
The promise of conquest when you are on the open water must fire up some sleeping neurons in a white trash specimen. The reality that any non-white trash person can see is that you’re hanging out in murky water with poison fish and the possibility of drowning while piss-drunk. I must admit this doesn’t apply to me, because:
You don’t know how to swim...
This is a general marker of poverty, but especially in the case of whites. It means that your parents couldn’t afford swimming lessons or time at a pool, and there was no body of water near your living quarters deep enough to want to swim in. Bonus points if you make no effort to learn.
You are surrounded by musical instruments...
And you are not a musician in any traditional sense. It doesn’t count if you can play one well, or all of them ok. You have to have baffling noise-causing mechanisms all around you, for no pragmatic reason, like your pets. Bonus points if you are offended when people offer to buy them.
You’ve done a trick on your bicycle...
This doesn’t count if it’s something anyone would be impressed with. It has to be something like skidding on gravel/wet leaves, running into a wall at greater and greater speeds, simply riding off of a tall ledge, or holding onto a car to gain speed. White Trash love bicycles, and I think most of then learn to ride them before they learn their own name. Bonus points if you’ve been hospitilized for trying. Extra bonus points if you tried it again successfully. Mega bonus points if you were hospitalized again.
You’ve gone more than 2 weeks without showering...
Either because you had no access to a shower on purpose, or you “needed more time” for playing video games or doing meth.
You collect something worthless...
This is what you can use to tell a white trash specimen apart from a poorly dressed great ape. In the back of the white-trash persons mind is some lingering self-awareness that they are just going through culturally and biologically programed motions. In order to fight this sensation, they have keepsakes from their various indulgences. Because who wants to just drink beer for no reason when you can collect the cans and make a dog/cat/bird/snake/venomous insects house with them?
You imagine receiving a great deal of money somehow...
And when you get it, you know exactly what you’re going to spend it on. And what you’re going to spend it on doesn’t involve a bank, collecting interest, or investing. It’s strictly for upgrading the quality of the cars, house, and dogs/cats/birds/snakes/colony of venomous insects that surround you.
White trash is a cultural group I still identify with. In many ways, I am grateful for the existence of the phrase, for saving me the trouble of spending every waking moment on being lame and compromising like the “white not-trash”(if there can be such a thing) that surrounds me. Are you white trash? Well, if you don’t identify as another racial group and it’s subsets for whatever reason, and are what bigots call an “under-achiever”, then you are halfway there. The other cultural markers are this:
You don’t drink alcohol/drink A LOT of alcohol...
Moderation is something that people latch onto to coast through life without conflict, out of fear or lack of substance. Not only is a white trash specimen fearless, they are confident in their decisions to the point where they actually let their excess guide them, example: “let the liquor do the thinking”. To qualify as a non-drinker example, you don’t drink for a reason besides your own health.
You have lots of pets(bonus points: non-mammal pets)(extra bonus: pets that are illegal to own)...
If you plan on dying without being surrounded by more than one dog/cat/bird/snake/colony of venomous insects your family will have to take as your only inheritance, you can’t qualify. I really can’t figure this out, but White Trash people love animals, and the weirder the better. If you received an exotic pet as a present before puberty, you can be sure your parents were white trash. If you asked for it, you are too.
You’ve smoked cigarette butts/ used chewing tobacco...
Without nicotine, there would be white-trash spree killings on a [more] regular basis. Nicotine appeals to the psyche of the white trash individual the same way it appeals to others, but white trash is differentiated in that they have scraped the bottom of the barrel to get nicotine at moments of poverty, instead of thinking “this is a waste of time and money”. To white trash, nothing is a waste of time or money.
You like boats/water/vacation cruises...
The promise of conquest when you are on the open water must fire up some sleeping neurons in a white trash specimen. The reality that any non-white trash person can see is that you’re hanging out in murky water with poison fish and the possibility of drowning while piss-drunk. I must admit this doesn’t apply to me, because:
You don’t know how to swim...
This is a general marker of poverty, but especially in the case of whites. It means that your parents couldn’t afford swimming lessons or time at a pool, and there was no body of water near your living quarters deep enough to want to swim in. Bonus points if you make no effort to learn.
You are surrounded by musical instruments...
And you are not a musician in any traditional sense. It doesn’t count if you can play one well, or all of them ok. You have to have baffling noise-causing mechanisms all around you, for no pragmatic reason, like your pets. Bonus points if you are offended when people offer to buy them.
You’ve done a trick on your bicycle...
This doesn’t count if it’s something anyone would be impressed with. It has to be something like skidding on gravel/wet leaves, running into a wall at greater and greater speeds, simply riding off of a tall ledge, or holding onto a car to gain speed. White Trash love bicycles, and I think most of then learn to ride them before they learn their own name. Bonus points if you’ve been hospitilized for trying. Extra bonus points if you tried it again successfully. Mega bonus points if you were hospitalized again.
You’ve gone more than 2 weeks without showering...
Either because you had no access to a shower on purpose, or you “needed more time” for playing video games or doing meth.
You collect something worthless...
This is what you can use to tell a white trash specimen apart from a poorly dressed great ape. In the back of the white-trash persons mind is some lingering self-awareness that they are just going through culturally and biologically programed motions. In order to fight this sensation, they have keepsakes from their various indulgences. Because who wants to just drink beer for no reason when you can collect the cans and make a dog/cat/bird/snake/venomous insects house with them?
You imagine receiving a great deal of money somehow...
And when you get it, you know exactly what you’re going to spend it on. And what you’re going to spend it on doesn’t involve a bank, collecting interest, or investing. It’s strictly for upgrading the quality of the cars, house, and dogs/cats/birds/snakes/colony of venomous insects that surround you.
objective watchmen review
I watched this movie knowing little about it on purpose. I'm generally a fan of the "graphic novel"(comic book) themed movie, feeling it's a step above the classic superhero comics/movies. I'm also not a fan of graphic novels(comic books) themselves, and I'm not ashamed of liking one and not the other. So note that this review is solely for the movie, and you nerds who complain that your favorite speech bubble was left out can dunk you head in ice water.
All in all, this was an excellent movie. The redeeming feature I found in it was a collection of monologues, with visual accompaniment. Each strong character had his own "piece" within the movie, and it added quite a bit of depth to it. They all possessed basic philosophical outlooks, and the monologues would be a back story and personal mission thereafter, mixed with flashbacks. That part was strong enough to carry the entire movie, and as many of you who've seen it might guess, dr. manhattan is the character I relate to best.
The moral ambiguity was a crowing achievement. Typically hollywood's idea of "moral ambiguity" is when a good guy does something slightly bad, or the other way around. Instead, throughout this movie, the viewer finds themselves rooting for all kinds of uncomfortable things, only because the opposite is worse, and occasionally one really can't tell which side is worse, and has a cognitive tug of war that ends with nothing but mental ropeburn.
definitely worth a watch, maybe a few.
There was plenty to take exception with:
-Dr. Manhattan has a circumcised penis. Why? he clearly doesn't have the body build he had before he mutated, so why is circumcision still the "perfect male form" when only israel and the united states still do it on a wide scale? zionist conspiracy
-all the songs are obnoxiously ironic(usually lyrically referring to something on the screen) and well-known. This would have been a much better film had they hired someone to do the score, or more obscure songs were used(that would have fit better). All instrumental might have served it best
-nixon's double is almost comical. I think they could have put more into finding a closer match, most of the other ones are good
-there is no strong female character. There doesn't have to be, but unfortunately it seems like they are trying to make one(or two) and it doesn't work out. All the starring females are completely at the mercy of the illogical actions of the male protagonists.
-I know this isn't reality, but the fight scenes could have at least involved human nature. On only one occasion does(a dwarf) realize he's outmatched and run away. Other times, when 2 superheros are fighting 20-30 goons, the goons all run to fight full speed, and even after 29 of them have been bodied, the last one will still think he can win. Even in under-financed early bruce lee films, the goons will each think about a new way to attack, or try to run away, before fighting.
All in all, this was an excellent movie. The redeeming feature I found in it was a collection of monologues, with visual accompaniment. Each strong character had his own "piece" within the movie, and it added quite a bit of depth to it. They all possessed basic philosophical outlooks, and the monologues would be a back story and personal mission thereafter, mixed with flashbacks. That part was strong enough to carry the entire movie, and as many of you who've seen it might guess, dr. manhattan is the character I relate to best.
The moral ambiguity was a crowing achievement. Typically hollywood's idea of "moral ambiguity" is when a good guy does something slightly bad, or the other way around. Instead, throughout this movie, the viewer finds themselves rooting for all kinds of uncomfortable things, only because the opposite is worse, and occasionally one really can't tell which side is worse, and has a cognitive tug of war that ends with nothing but mental ropeburn.
definitely worth a watch, maybe a few.
There was plenty to take exception with:
-Dr. Manhattan has a circumcised penis. Why? he clearly doesn't have the body build he had before he mutated, so why is circumcision still the "perfect male form" when only israel and the united states still do it on a wide scale? zionist conspiracy
-all the songs are obnoxiously ironic(usually lyrically referring to something on the screen) and well-known. This would have been a much better film had they hired someone to do the score, or more obscure songs were used(that would have fit better). All instrumental might have served it best
-nixon's double is almost comical. I think they could have put more into finding a closer match, most of the other ones are good
-there is no strong female character. There doesn't have to be, but unfortunately it seems like they are trying to make one(or two) and it doesn't work out. All the starring females are completely at the mercy of the illogical actions of the male protagonists.
-I know this isn't reality, but the fight scenes could have at least involved human nature. On only one occasion does(a dwarf) realize he's outmatched and run away. Other times, when 2 superheros are fighting 20-30 goons, the goons all run to fight full speed, and even after 29 of them have been bodied, the last one will still think he can win. Even in under-financed early bruce lee films, the goons will each think about a new way to attack, or try to run away, before fighting.
energy
The ability to expend energy is mostly owed to conserving it beforehand. I often wondered what the "average joe" is doing with his time, and how he could possibly be happy with his lot in life.
Because it's baffling for me to imagine a life without some kind of artistic expression; some kind of performance to put on. If I'm not performing, I'm planning on how I'm going to perform when I get the chance. Everything is quite simple, I simmer and scheme and then erupt in one cathartic climax, again and again.
The reason why other people don't do it became plainly simple to me today. After a night of not sleeping, I found myself highly emotional. Becoming drained by basic things like having to make food or listening to something on the radio. With my basic energy out-of-whack, what little energy I had was spent on stupid shit, as is the case for most people.
Most would agree that it's important to be ready for a challenge at any moment. It would seem though that most people wake up refreshed and ready, but by the end of the day are too burnt out by making dietary choices and socializing with people to have anything left.
I, on the other hand, am terrible at these and many other daily life tasks, as well as major life choices that don't involve "my work". I've discovered recently that the less I pay attention to them(and consequently how badly I execute them), the better I am at getting "the work" done.
So as long as I pay attention enough to driving to not be killed in an accident, as long as I eat just the right variety of food not to get nutrient deficient, as long as I talk to other people just enough so they don't take hostile action against me, I focus on what's "important"; a gonzo news show.
Because it's baffling for me to imagine a life without some kind of artistic expression; some kind of performance to put on. If I'm not performing, I'm planning on how I'm going to perform when I get the chance. Everything is quite simple, I simmer and scheme and then erupt in one cathartic climax, again and again.
The reason why other people don't do it became plainly simple to me today. After a night of not sleeping, I found myself highly emotional. Becoming drained by basic things like having to make food or listening to something on the radio. With my basic energy out-of-whack, what little energy I had was spent on stupid shit, as is the case for most people.
Most would agree that it's important to be ready for a challenge at any moment. It would seem though that most people wake up refreshed and ready, but by the end of the day are too burnt out by making dietary choices and socializing with people to have anything left.
I, on the other hand, am terrible at these and many other daily life tasks, as well as major life choices that don't involve "my work". I've discovered recently that the less I pay attention to them(and consequently how badly I execute them), the better I am at getting "the work" done.
So as long as I pay attention enough to driving to not be killed in an accident, as long as I eat just the right variety of food not to get nutrient deficient, as long as I talk to other people just enough so they don't take hostile action against me, I focus on what's "important"; a gonzo news show.
remember me?
After moving to a place where I didn't know anyone and being biologically compelled to form social bonds with strangers, in pretty short order I thought I had the people I met figured out.
I had the people I liked, and the people I didn't like. There was a large variety of criteria employed to decide which group each person went into, but I noticed after the fact a very striking thing: everyone who I had put into the "don't like" group casually asked me the same questions about myself, that I had already answered directly to them before. I noticed that if I said "I already told you" they were a bit off-put, so then I tried just answering again. To my wonder, this didn't jog most of their memories, and they responded in a way that was quite similar to how they responded the first time they asked the question.
Occasionally I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, particularly when it comes to matters of memory, so as not to have my glass house broken. But why is it that no one who was on the "do like" list has any problems remembering what I've told them? And why is it I remember factual conversations with everyone, including people I don't like?
Because for all my huffing and puffing, I am interested in people. If they volunteer information about themselves, or I volunteer information about myself, it is, on some basic level, important. I don't often indulge in small talk because to me, no talk is small.
I may not remember the calendar date(or day of the week), how many cups of coffee I had this morning or "that one time" but I do keep a keen record of what the people who surround me think they are, what they are doing and what they know about me. Not only is it personally upsetting when someone doesn't remember something personal you told them, it crosses your mind that the person is entirely self-absorbed in exactly the wrong ways.
Try to apply this litmus test for feelings of kinship in your life. I bet it checks out.
I had the people I liked, and the people I didn't like. There was a large variety of criteria employed to decide which group each person went into, but I noticed after the fact a very striking thing: everyone who I had put into the "don't like" group casually asked me the same questions about myself, that I had already answered directly to them before. I noticed that if I said "I already told you" they were a bit off-put, so then I tried just answering again. To my wonder, this didn't jog most of their memories, and they responded in a way that was quite similar to how they responded the first time they asked the question.
Occasionally I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, particularly when it comes to matters of memory, so as not to have my glass house broken. But why is it that no one who was on the "do like" list has any problems remembering what I've told them? And why is it I remember factual conversations with everyone, including people I don't like?
Because for all my huffing and puffing, I am interested in people. If they volunteer information about themselves, or I volunteer information about myself, it is, on some basic level, important. I don't often indulge in small talk because to me, no talk is small.
I may not remember the calendar date(or day of the week), how many cups of coffee I had this morning or "that one time" but I do keep a keen record of what the people who surround me think they are, what they are doing and what they know about me. Not only is it personally upsetting when someone doesn't remember something personal you told them, it crosses your mind that the person is entirely self-absorbed in exactly the wrong ways.
Try to apply this litmus test for feelings of kinship in your life. I bet it checks out.
Whatever doesn't kill me is?
So I had a shit day. I've had plenty of them, but this one actually took some magical/optimistic thinking to get through.
Well, I've had a shit month to begin with. March is a shit month in the first place, between the stuttering winter of February and the stuttering spring of april. March just slurs- and if it were a person it would be a drunk man on the street corner asking you for 2 cents.
To begin with, I had to work a "double" as it is called, in my case that's a 4 hour shift, with one hour break, and a 6 1/2 hour shift. It was at 2 different places, so the "break" was used to get coffee and travel to the other location. During the 3rd hour, with images of the day completely overrun by menial labor, I had to think fast why I was doing this. The material reason is simple, because 2 weeks ago I had -24 dollars and alot of things to buy. I thought "I better work more", but then why did I cover a shift yesterday, and tomorrow, making 3 10-hour shifts 3 days in a row?
I flashed(as I, and you should, often do) to a Calvin and Hobbes strip. In the strip, Calvin is trying to be good so Santa will reward him with presents. He is at the dinner table, and eats his plate of dinner mentioning "what are these, maggots? I'm choking them down the best I can, this should be worth X amount of presents!". His mom interjects "more maggots?" sarcastically and Calvin shouts "Sure! Pile em on!".
Pile em on. That is exactly how I felt when taking on so much labor, and how I feel right now. If things are shitty, throw all the shit you can at me, and I will take it all on. I will live shit, do shit and eat shit, and I will smile. I won't gripe, whine or brag about it later, I'll just do it. And I had a thought that though I don't value the particular labor I'm doing, I can at least use a similar ethos for the labor that I do value. It was a pure and simple moment of seeing the glass half-full. I thought of it as cross-training. I had to, not to walk out at any moment. I had to look at the employing class and say "you are increasing my stamina while you pay me very little, and it will all come back to bite you".
They raise people to work 40-80 hours a week. What will the person do if they're clever enough to save their resources and develop no false pride, only resentment? The person will work 40-80 hours on tearing the whole system down when they get the chance. If I can calculate a stores inventory I can ration my energy for an attack.
Maybe I'm a sucker like every other sucker and I suck. But if everything is really what you make of it, the world couldn't expect just what I could make out of it's shit.
Well, I've had a shit month to begin with. March is a shit month in the first place, between the stuttering winter of February and the stuttering spring of april. March just slurs- and if it were a person it would be a drunk man on the street corner asking you for 2 cents.
To begin with, I had to work a "double" as it is called, in my case that's a 4 hour shift, with one hour break, and a 6 1/2 hour shift. It was at 2 different places, so the "break" was used to get coffee and travel to the other location. During the 3rd hour, with images of the day completely overrun by menial labor, I had to think fast why I was doing this. The material reason is simple, because 2 weeks ago I had -24 dollars and alot of things to buy. I thought "I better work more", but then why did I cover a shift yesterday, and tomorrow, making 3 10-hour shifts 3 days in a row?
I flashed(as I, and you should, often do) to a Calvin and Hobbes strip. In the strip, Calvin is trying to be good so Santa will reward him with presents. He is at the dinner table, and eats his plate of dinner mentioning "what are these, maggots? I'm choking them down the best I can, this should be worth X amount of presents!". His mom interjects "more maggots?" sarcastically and Calvin shouts "Sure! Pile em on!".
Pile em on. That is exactly how I felt when taking on so much labor, and how I feel right now. If things are shitty, throw all the shit you can at me, and I will take it all on. I will live shit, do shit and eat shit, and I will smile. I won't gripe, whine or brag about it later, I'll just do it. And I had a thought that though I don't value the particular labor I'm doing, I can at least use a similar ethos for the labor that I do value. It was a pure and simple moment of seeing the glass half-full. I thought of it as cross-training. I had to, not to walk out at any moment. I had to look at the employing class and say "you are increasing my stamina while you pay me very little, and it will all come back to bite you".
They raise people to work 40-80 hours a week. What will the person do if they're clever enough to save their resources and develop no false pride, only resentment? The person will work 40-80 hours on tearing the whole system down when they get the chance. If I can calculate a stores inventory I can ration my energy for an attack.
Maybe I'm a sucker like every other sucker and I suck. But if everything is really what you make of it, the world couldn't expect just what I could make out of it's shit.
real advice
One might think a person like me; as oblivious to societal rules as the day is long/short depending on seasonal changes, couldn't have survived to be 21 and 3/4 of a year old. Against my better judgement, I have. "But how?" you didn't ask and didn't really care to know? A few guidelines:
-do your own laundry.
It's an emotional thing. People use laundry for manipulation in a variety of situations. If you let someone else do your laundry, it means you owe them one, even if they reassure you it's not a problem. It just means they can make it a problem whenever they like.
-only eat out on special occasions.
I've talked to alot of "older individuals" and they all had a similar period of 1-30 years in which they ate out practically every meal they needed to eat. I can't say I've been immune to the addiction. When calculated, this costs more daily than caffeine, nicotine, and alcohol together, in heavy amounts, and is alot less fun. Absolutely any food you like, you can learn to prepare at home and make it exactly how you like it.
-drugs are not "fun"
They are something you do/don't need to continue to your goals. "Situational" and "Recreational" users are as lame as anything else with the word "situational" and "recreational"; like "situational offender" and "recreational sports".
-sex is not great.
I'm always astounded when someone mentions something is "better than sex". First of all, sex is not a homogenous, dependable thing; like a chocolate bar or getting really, really drunk. Every time is different. Think how many things are better than that time you lost your hard-on and spend 20 minutes apologizing only to have your partner reassure you, and in hindsight realize you just further emasculated yourself. I've had car accidents that were better than sex.
-always tip.
It's amazing people will buy unseen things from infomercials, pay for cable television, eat out every other meal, and still not hand a fellow human being a few dollars in gratitude. You were going to buy a mountain dew and some cheetos with that 4 dollars from a Senegalese shopkeeper , whereas the cab driver is going to send it to Senegal. Cut the middleman.
-don't own things.
I too thought having things generated the ability to have more things, or money. The opposite appears to be the case. Things usually break, wear out or cause more trouble than happiness. Like cars, televisions, and state-issued driver's licenses. The only things you can be sure are good buys are new socks and electricity.
-sleep as much as you damn well please
Don't worry about time. You only have so much of it in your life anyway, which is more reason to stay safe in your bed where no one can run your pockets and your subconscious can plan it's next attack. sleep less than 7 hours a night a few times in a row and observe what you do with your "free time". Between coffee/energy drinks: probably start a blog or initiate human contact. bad move.
-do your own laundry.
It's an emotional thing. People use laundry for manipulation in a variety of situations. If you let someone else do your laundry, it means you owe them one, even if they reassure you it's not a problem. It just means they can make it a problem whenever they like.
-only eat out on special occasions.
I've talked to alot of "older individuals" and they all had a similar period of 1-30 years in which they ate out practically every meal they needed to eat. I can't say I've been immune to the addiction. When calculated, this costs more daily than caffeine, nicotine, and alcohol together, in heavy amounts, and is alot less fun. Absolutely any food you like, you can learn to prepare at home and make it exactly how you like it.
-drugs are not "fun"
They are something you do/don't need to continue to your goals. "Situational" and "Recreational" users are as lame as anything else with the word "situational" and "recreational"; like "situational offender" and "recreational sports".
-sex is not great.
I'm always astounded when someone mentions something is "better than sex". First of all, sex is not a homogenous, dependable thing; like a chocolate bar or getting really, really drunk. Every time is different. Think how many things are better than that time you lost your hard-on and spend 20 minutes apologizing only to have your partner reassure you, and in hindsight realize you just further emasculated yourself. I've had car accidents that were better than sex.
-always tip.
It's amazing people will buy unseen things from infomercials, pay for cable television, eat out every other meal, and still not hand a fellow human being a few dollars in gratitude. You were going to buy a mountain dew and some cheetos with that 4 dollars from a Senegalese shopkeeper , whereas the cab driver is going to send it to Senegal. Cut the middleman.
-don't own things.
I too thought having things generated the ability to have more things, or money. The opposite appears to be the case. Things usually break, wear out or cause more trouble than happiness. Like cars, televisions, and state-issued driver's licenses. The only things you can be sure are good buys are new socks and electricity.
-sleep as much as you damn well please
Don't worry about time. You only have so much of it in your life anyway, which is more reason to stay safe in your bed where no one can run your pockets and your subconscious can plan it's next attack. sleep less than 7 hours a night a few times in a row and observe what you do with your "free time". Between coffee/energy drinks: probably start a blog or initiate human contact. bad move.
more self-absorbed drinking psychoanalysis
Since I started drinking so late in my life(most people start before they're 20), and I did it in such an antisocial way(never expected to be a "social" or "situational drinker), It has caused me all sorts of mental grief.
I have since wondered if I was doing the right or wrong thing repeatedly. When I'm not drinking, I weigh the options and when I am drinking, I weigh the options unless I'm so drunk I can't make popcorn.
I realized(like I did when I started) that the choice isn't of much consequence really, but the cognitive dissonance is. Since I started, I have had 2-21 day "dry spells" in which for whatever reason I think I should stop. I am absolutely sure that during these times my output, although it may be of greater quality, is pretty substantially reduced.
So why do I do more "work" when drinking? Well, if I think drinking is ultimately the wrong thing to do, then when I am dry I can at least remember I am not drinking now, and entertain the possibility of not drinking again. Once the initial withdrawal is over, I honestly feel great sober. This gives me a false sense of security. If I have great self-control, self-confidence, and a body that's getting all of it's REM sleep and is rarely dehydrated, all I do is enjoy myself, Unless something else upsets me. I think that things will be taken care of without my input.
On the other hand, if I'm wet as a dishcloth, I think fairly often about getting liver masses when I'm 30, I think about how I might be damaging my cognitive abilities in the short run, and so I put my foot on the gas. I don't want to be another heavy-drinking loser, so I try harder. It puts true uncertainty into the mix. And that is a powerful motivator.
Drinking, for me, introduces the fear of incompetence. The only way to fight that fear is to increase my competence.
I have since wondered if I was doing the right or wrong thing repeatedly. When I'm not drinking, I weigh the options and when I am drinking, I weigh the options unless I'm so drunk I can't make popcorn.
I realized(like I did when I started) that the choice isn't of much consequence really, but the cognitive dissonance is. Since I started, I have had 2-21 day "dry spells" in which for whatever reason I think I should stop. I am absolutely sure that during these times my output, although it may be of greater quality, is pretty substantially reduced.
So why do I do more "work" when drinking? Well, if I think drinking is ultimately the wrong thing to do, then when I am dry I can at least remember I am not drinking now, and entertain the possibility of not drinking again. Once the initial withdrawal is over, I honestly feel great sober. This gives me a false sense of security. If I have great self-control, self-confidence, and a body that's getting all of it's REM sleep and is rarely dehydrated, all I do is enjoy myself, Unless something else upsets me. I think that things will be taken care of without my input.
On the other hand, if I'm wet as a dishcloth, I think fairly often about getting liver masses when I'm 30, I think about how I might be damaging my cognitive abilities in the short run, and so I put my foot on the gas. I don't want to be another heavy-drinking loser, so I try harder. It puts true uncertainty into the mix. And that is a powerful motivator.
Drinking, for me, introduces the fear of incompetence. The only way to fight that fear is to increase my competence.
In the bag
Ran out of liquor, have no money to buy more. What to do?
1- go in unlocked cars and pawn peoples stereos for enough to buy some wild irish rose
2- start spending time with "friends" who have alcohol, and explicitly and secretly drink as much of it as I can
3- do what anthony burgess did(always the right move) and start drinking "overstrong"(twice as strong) tea
The last one might be a bit confusing for you, but tea has similar muscle relaxant properties as alcohol. Of course not in similar amount, which is why one should make it overstrong if they're drinking it for that reason.
So I'm squeezing 10 teabags into a big vat of almost boiling water, and It's not turning brown fast enough. The water was clear, and when it's tea it's brown. And if it's overstrong tea, it must have to be overbrown. So I get a large spoon and squeeze the mass of teabags against the side of the pot, as if squeezing life out of it(I might be doing just that).
I realize at the same time that I have a portion of snus in. It's tobacco in a teabag, essentially, and when you need a hit you squeeze it with your lip. I realized all at one that my life is squeezed out of bags. When I drink liquor it's to get "in the bag", but if I can't get in it, at least I can squeeze as much as possible out.
So, can I accomplish what I set out to do in life, with the power I have squeezed? It's in the bag.
1- go in unlocked cars and pawn peoples stereos for enough to buy some wild irish rose
2- start spending time with "friends" who have alcohol, and explicitly and secretly drink as much of it as I can
3- do what anthony burgess did(always the right move) and start drinking "overstrong"(twice as strong) tea
The last one might be a bit confusing for you, but tea has similar muscle relaxant properties as alcohol. Of course not in similar amount, which is why one should make it overstrong if they're drinking it for that reason.
So I'm squeezing 10 teabags into a big vat of almost boiling water, and It's not turning brown fast enough. The water was clear, and when it's tea it's brown. And if it's overstrong tea, it must have to be overbrown. So I get a large spoon and squeeze the mass of teabags against the side of the pot, as if squeezing life out of it(I might be doing just that).
I realize at the same time that I have a portion of snus in. It's tobacco in a teabag, essentially, and when you need a hit you squeeze it with your lip. I realized all at one that my life is squeezed out of bags. When I drink liquor it's to get "in the bag", but if I can't get in it, at least I can squeeze as much as possible out.
So, can I accomplish what I set out to do in life, with the power I have squeezed? It's in the bag.
fuck it
My current situation is to have no spendable money, lots of obligations that need money, and lots of things to sell that no one wants to buy. It would be outside of my principles to say that my problem is money.
Not only would I not like to say that, but It also isn't. The problem here is things. At some point, I took on as many projects as I could. These projects took a certain amount of start-up cost, and I imagined eating the cost if they didn't work out. I carefully took that risk, thinking that everything could be sold for what I bought it for, or even if less, at least half. The problem is not taking a loss- it's that no one wants to buy it at all.
Of course I could find reasons for that, which are true, like low consumer confidence, the general incompetence of others, and my general appearance being not someone you would trust to buy anything from. But honestly those things are excuses. The reality is much more personal, and it's a lesson I wish I had learned earlier:
Once you have a bunch of shit, you might have it for fucking ever. I would love it at this point If I could just make things like live animals and market-sellable cars dissapear into thin air. Make it so it never happened, costs incurred so far left in memory. But instead, The responsibility to acquire things is the responsibility to safely and intelligently get rid of them. That part isn't so fast, and it's not so fun.
It's the simple life from now on for me. I've had enough of this shit. Diversification is a sinking ship for me. If You like to just live, just drink a few beers, finger bang suzy creamcheese and ask your boss for a raise every 1-20 years, It's for you. If you have a very specific goal, like I do, then forget all your trips into other trades and schemes. It is nothing more than distraction.
I feel like my lifestyle is constipated, just trying to eliminate my false starts to start with one start that won't be false.
Not only would I not like to say that, but It also isn't. The problem here is things. At some point, I took on as many projects as I could. These projects took a certain amount of start-up cost, and I imagined eating the cost if they didn't work out. I carefully took that risk, thinking that everything could be sold for what I bought it for, or even if less, at least half. The problem is not taking a loss- it's that no one wants to buy it at all.
Of course I could find reasons for that, which are true, like low consumer confidence, the general incompetence of others, and my general appearance being not someone you would trust to buy anything from. But honestly those things are excuses. The reality is much more personal, and it's a lesson I wish I had learned earlier:
Once you have a bunch of shit, you might have it for fucking ever. I would love it at this point If I could just make things like live animals and market-sellable cars dissapear into thin air. Make it so it never happened, costs incurred so far left in memory. But instead, The responsibility to acquire things is the responsibility to safely and intelligently get rid of them. That part isn't so fast, and it's not so fun.
It's the simple life from now on for me. I've had enough of this shit. Diversification is a sinking ship for me. If You like to just live, just drink a few beers, finger bang suzy creamcheese and ask your boss for a raise every 1-20 years, It's for you. If you have a very specific goal, like I do, then forget all your trips into other trades and schemes. It is nothing more than distraction.
I feel like my lifestyle is constipated, just trying to eliminate my false starts to start with one start that won't be false.
They Are Everywhere
I’m at work. I’ve worked about 9 hours thus far, and a co-worker who seems pretty on-the-level comes in to the store when he’s not scheduled to patronize it, and nothing else. To me this raises a red flag. You have to have a weird disposition to voluntarily visit a place that continually robs you of the just product of your labor, except to steal or argue.
He sits down, starts eating, and I make the fateful decision to visit the sweet-tea urn and drink as much as I can to attempt to get back the compensation they won’t give me in money. He’s reading a book, which in my mind means he’s feeling introverted. Yet he pipes up after my 4th or 5th dixie cup of sweet tea and says “this is a great book”. I look at the cover and can tell its something one can buy next to batteries at the grocery store. He asks me if I’ve heard of the author. I haven’t, and before any other conversation is had I ask him if he’s read catch-22. This is a litmus test.
Here’s how I grade people: A) voluntarily read catch-22, B) means to read it soon, knows quite a bit about it C), knows about it, plans to read it at some point, D) knows about it, F) Doesn’t know about it. This man receives an emphatic failing grade when he replies “no, what is it?”. I tell him it’s my favorite book, and that it is amusing and tragic at the same time. He immediately pipes up with a vast exaggeration of whatever he is reading, saying there are “cliffhangers every paragraph”. I say “yeah”, figuring at least hes literate, and wishing to end the encounter.
Then he explains that this particular writer wrote from biblical predictions, and that his books thus far have all predicted political events before the event accurately. I try hard not to smirk, but then he asks “are you a christian”. I say “no” as if to add “what do I look like, a jive sucka?” and he replies “yeah, I used to be more skeptical too. It’s not like it’s just this book that got me to be christian, but I understand where you’re coming from”. This motherfucker has no idea where I’m coming from, and that is a self-evident fact. Trying to veer the conversation on to the shoulder, I say “It’s not about Christianity, I’m just skeptical of anyone who thinks they can predict the future”.
With my intention, the topics moved into useless fluff so I wouldn’t inspire some kind of daily, obnoxious conversation about how this man came to religion and I haven’t. He played a part I’ve seen lots of men do when they find out I’m not religious, which is to be a “cool guy” who is “cool with that”. More condescending is that they “were like [me]”, meaning that it’s a foregone conclusion that I will someday be like them.
I had previously learned that many people I work with are explicitly atheist or simply not-religious and not-interested, the day-old bagel version of atheism. This was a reality check that Christians lurk in sandwich shops, between me and my immediate goals, appearing unassuming. If my bed wasn’t a futon mattress on the floor, I’d check under my bed for them.
He sits down, starts eating, and I make the fateful decision to visit the sweet-tea urn and drink as much as I can to attempt to get back the compensation they won’t give me in money. He’s reading a book, which in my mind means he’s feeling introverted. Yet he pipes up after my 4th or 5th dixie cup of sweet tea and says “this is a great book”. I look at the cover and can tell its something one can buy next to batteries at the grocery store. He asks me if I’ve heard of the author. I haven’t, and before any other conversation is had I ask him if he’s read catch-22. This is a litmus test.
Here’s how I grade people: A) voluntarily read catch-22, B) means to read it soon, knows quite a bit about it C), knows about it, plans to read it at some point, D) knows about it, F) Doesn’t know about it. This man receives an emphatic failing grade when he replies “no, what is it?”. I tell him it’s my favorite book, and that it is amusing and tragic at the same time. He immediately pipes up with a vast exaggeration of whatever he is reading, saying there are “cliffhangers every paragraph”. I say “yeah”, figuring at least hes literate, and wishing to end the encounter.
Then he explains that this particular writer wrote from biblical predictions, and that his books thus far have all predicted political events before the event accurately. I try hard not to smirk, but then he asks “are you a christian”. I say “no” as if to add “what do I look like, a jive sucka?” and he replies “yeah, I used to be more skeptical too. It’s not like it’s just this book that got me to be christian, but I understand where you’re coming from”. This motherfucker has no idea where I’m coming from, and that is a self-evident fact. Trying to veer the conversation on to the shoulder, I say “It’s not about Christianity, I’m just skeptical of anyone who thinks they can predict the future”.
With my intention, the topics moved into useless fluff so I wouldn’t inspire some kind of daily, obnoxious conversation about how this man came to religion and I haven’t. He played a part I’ve seen lots of men do when they find out I’m not religious, which is to be a “cool guy” who is “cool with that”. More condescending is that they “were like [me]”, meaning that it’s a foregone conclusion that I will someday be like them.
I had previously learned that many people I work with are explicitly atheist or simply not-religious and not-interested, the day-old bagel version of atheism. This was a reality check that Christians lurk in sandwich shops, between me and my immediate goals, appearing unassuming. If my bed wasn’t a futon mattress on the floor, I’d check under my bed for them.
Screwy reviewy: bullshit: "good ol' days"
I was so excited about this installment of "bullshit" starring penn & teller, known illusionists and bullshit-exposers, that I even suggested to a friend to watch it, though I hadn't seen it. It's the equivalent of judging a book by it's cover.
What a lame fucking show. They almost make the opposite of their point by negation. They could have filled their show with excellent points, but instead have some self-indulgent bender of style and presentation. All they'd have to do is compare cultural attitudes, crime statistics, and the realities of the past to the present, expound upon them, add some magic tricks, and have another classic.
Instead, I don't even know what they tried to do. Most of it is penn ineffectually ridiculing the speech patterns of the 50's and 80's. If I were to compare this installment to past classics like "P.E.T.A." and "the boy scouts", this new one would pale in comparison like and albino to a "black" crayola crayon.
What a lame fucking show. They almost make the opposite of their point by negation. They could have filled their show with excellent points, but instead have some self-indulgent bender of style and presentation. All they'd have to do is compare cultural attitudes, crime statistics, and the realities of the past to the present, expound upon them, add some magic tricks, and have another classic.
Instead, I don't even know what they tried to do. Most of it is penn ineffectually ridiculing the speech patterns of the 50's and 80's. If I were to compare this installment to past classics like "P.E.T.A." and "the boy scouts", this new one would pale in comparison like and albino to a "black" crayola crayon.
sideways
I started breeding ball pythons last breeding season. I managed to hatch 4 snakes, and since then it’s been one reality check followed by another. The first one was lost. One time I saw it escaping, put it back, and reoriented the enclosure it was in. What was stupid is that I thought I could flick my wrist, move something a few inches, and it would be fixed. He escaped the exact same way he had almost the first time while I wasn’t paying attention. I realized even then that it takes more than passive attention to stop an animals will to power.
I had a snake who never wanted to eat. The snake just didn’t respond to a live rodent like the other 2, or like nature would dictate. It was nothing more than a warm, moving obstacle to him. To give him half a chance(that’s about the odds) at life, I started force feeding him. It’s not a fun process. You have to override an animals natural movements for it’s own good, and you certainly don’t get thanks. But he started to look better.
3 days ago, “hungry” as he was named, was found motionless, lying with his head sideways and his mouth open. Initially thinking he had died, I moved him and he moved back ever so slightly. The head continued to turn itself sideways. When I oriented him in a proper snake position, he would turn it back. I knew he was on his way out in any case. He died, and I assumed it was because of his general unwillingness to eat and live.
Unfortunately, this morning I checked on one of the healthy babies and noticed the same symptoms. He was a bit more lively, likely because he had at one point had a will to live. But the sideways head was stark. He even had more energy to put his head back sideways If I moved him. I roughly recalled a “House” episode in which Dr. Gregory house notices a rat with head-tilt and diagnoses it as neurological. Knowing something was seriously wrong and that this snake might be strong enough to recover, I took it to a veterinarian.
As you might imagine, once a peanut-sized brain is oriented sideways, It’s essentially too late to save him. He’s not going to be able to eat or drink. When I talked to the vet, I said that he couldn’t hold his head straight. But that wasn’t true. The vet told me that literally, instead of just being dizzy or not knowing which way is up, The snake thinks the way his head is facing is correct. He backed up his claim by saying that animals with head tilt will hold their head at a very specific angle.
Although upset about my certain loss, I was taken by the surreal nature of that idea. The snake is literally in a sideways world, and doesn’t know. He was euthanized, of course, but I comforted myself that at least he didn’t go out with sanity and clarity. He was completely mixed-up, quite literally. Out of pure curiosity, I spent my bottom dollar on an autopsy since he likely died of the same thing the first one did. It might have been an infection(which the non-eater was more likely to catch) or it might be genetic. But I can’t get the image and idea of "sideways" out of my upright head.
P.S. the last one is quite healthy, having overcome his slave morality.
I had a snake who never wanted to eat. The snake just didn’t respond to a live rodent like the other 2, or like nature would dictate. It was nothing more than a warm, moving obstacle to him. To give him half a chance(that’s about the odds) at life, I started force feeding him. It’s not a fun process. You have to override an animals natural movements for it’s own good, and you certainly don’t get thanks. But he started to look better.
3 days ago, “hungry” as he was named, was found motionless, lying with his head sideways and his mouth open. Initially thinking he had died, I moved him and he moved back ever so slightly. The head continued to turn itself sideways. When I oriented him in a proper snake position, he would turn it back. I knew he was on his way out in any case. He died, and I assumed it was because of his general unwillingness to eat and live.
Unfortunately, this morning I checked on one of the healthy babies and noticed the same symptoms. He was a bit more lively, likely because he had at one point had a will to live. But the sideways head was stark. He even had more energy to put his head back sideways If I moved him. I roughly recalled a “House” episode in which Dr. Gregory house notices a rat with head-tilt and diagnoses it as neurological. Knowing something was seriously wrong and that this snake might be strong enough to recover, I took it to a veterinarian.
As you might imagine, once a peanut-sized brain is oriented sideways, It’s essentially too late to save him. He’s not going to be able to eat or drink. When I talked to the vet, I said that he couldn’t hold his head straight. But that wasn’t true. The vet told me that literally, instead of just being dizzy or not knowing which way is up, The snake thinks the way his head is facing is correct. He backed up his claim by saying that animals with head tilt will hold their head at a very specific angle.
Although upset about my certain loss, I was taken by the surreal nature of that idea. The snake is literally in a sideways world, and doesn’t know. He was euthanized, of course, but I comforted myself that at least he didn’t go out with sanity and clarity. He was completely mixed-up, quite literally. Out of pure curiosity, I spent my bottom dollar on an autopsy since he likely died of the same thing the first one did. It might have been an infection(which the non-eater was more likely to catch) or it might be genetic. But I can’t get the image and idea of "sideways" out of my upright head.
P.S. the last one is quite healthy, having overcome his slave morality.
shameless
Hi, my name is Cobe Soldo. I always believed I was not quite like everyone around me. I felt apart, inward oriented, and at the same time possessing a very helpful position to other people: that is, complete genuineness in my own being and advice.
This has only been reenforced by those around me. Back in high school, when different friends could be bisexual, drug addicts, or complete idiots depending on weather patterns and hormonal spikes, I was told repeatedly that I was "not a poser" and "the only person who is doing whatever he wants". Keep in mind that it takes little effort to be what I was and am: yourself.
I never felt held back by societal restraints or religious ones, rather I was angered at them for implicit impositions on me. This has been an excellent path for me, but only recently have I become aware that I was indeed holding myself back.
When people(even if it's only one good friend) tell you that you are bulletproof, It builds your confidence but also makes you feel a responsibility. If you are bulletproof, Then you can never be shot down, or it will tarnish you. If you are reminded that you have "the fire", you want to keep it burning. And knowing exactly what keeps it burning seems like tricky business.
Only recently(about 2 hours ago), I realized how inane this really is. Human beings are who they were and always will be, and only the weakest of personalities sways in the breeze. I used to become worried about how a drug might be dulling my abilities, how my lifestyle(whatever it might have been) is leading me to a path of submission. Well, it's not, it never was, and the only thing that was making me submissive and anxious about "loosing myself" was the idea that it could happen.
I used to think that when I wake up tomorrow, I could be a different person. That maybe one day I'll just square-out. Yet I personally am at much less risk of that then anyone I can think of. This doesn't mean I ought to rest on my laurels, but it does mean I can let myself be myself and worry about the work that needs to be done. I don't need self-awareness to exist. Now I am free to be aware of much more.
Self-discovery? There is nothing there to be discovered. I know exactly my appetites, how to quell them in short order, and move the hell on.
This has only been reenforced by those around me. Back in high school, when different friends could be bisexual, drug addicts, or complete idiots depending on weather patterns and hormonal spikes, I was told repeatedly that I was "not a poser" and "the only person who is doing whatever he wants". Keep in mind that it takes little effort to be what I was and am: yourself.
I never felt held back by societal restraints or religious ones, rather I was angered at them for implicit impositions on me. This has been an excellent path for me, but only recently have I become aware that I was indeed holding myself back.
When people(even if it's only one good friend) tell you that you are bulletproof, It builds your confidence but also makes you feel a responsibility. If you are bulletproof, Then you can never be shot down, or it will tarnish you. If you are reminded that you have "the fire", you want to keep it burning. And knowing exactly what keeps it burning seems like tricky business.
Only recently(about 2 hours ago), I realized how inane this really is. Human beings are who they were and always will be, and only the weakest of personalities sways in the breeze. I used to become worried about how a drug might be dulling my abilities, how my lifestyle(whatever it might have been) is leading me to a path of submission. Well, it's not, it never was, and the only thing that was making me submissive and anxious about "loosing myself" was the idea that it could happen.
I used to think that when I wake up tomorrow, I could be a different person. That maybe one day I'll just square-out. Yet I personally am at much less risk of that then anyone I can think of. This doesn't mean I ought to rest on my laurels, but it does mean I can let myself be myself and worry about the work that needs to be done. I don't need self-awareness to exist. Now I am free to be aware of much more.
Self-discovery? There is nothing there to be discovered. I know exactly my appetites, how to quell them in short order, and move the hell on.
murder murder
I have known people who I wouldn't miss if they died. I didn't wish it on them, but I knew that I couldn't pretend to mourn them if it did happen. For 2 of these people, it did happen. And I was happy about it. I didn't hide my opinion, and of course I did feel bad for their families.
Someone I worked with for 1 1/2 years was murdered last week. He was not one of those people. But in the same breath, I don't think it was a devastating loss. That is the true nuance of an unexpected death. The expected reaction is to always think it was a terrible loss, no matter who it was. The more honest reaction is to be glad if it was someone you hated, and sad if it was anyone else. And still, there is a reaction much like mine, a complete neutrality mixed with a feeling of "glad I didn't have to be there".
The victim in question was a person who played many roles, which I repect. He was a towson university student, who had just graduated months before his death. He dealt tons of cannabis. Everyone knew that, and even to the untrained eye, he could be seen doling out cannabis to practical strangers. He liked athletics, he liked pop culture. He was both a loser and a winner, depending on your preconceptions and your perception. And that's the way most of us are.
The news reports only what suit and tie america would be devestated by: Towson University graduate, outside of baltimore city limits, shot in the back of the head. The same news story could read: Known drug dealer, because of possible drug war, shot in the back of the head. And this is the same individual we're talking about.
When I lived in baltimore, I would listen to local radio, which ran an audio version of "murder ink", an excellent column in the city paper reporting the weekly murder count. Whenever a victim was mentioned by name, someone would call in to describe how though he may have been involved with drug dealing, this was really a good kid. They'd mention the various redeemable qualities he had and the positive things he was involved in. I always shrugged it off. Not that I didn't believe it, but really because I thought that it was a cover for his darker side.
No longer. If the movie/book clockwork orange taught you anything besides "sociopathy seems pretty fun", it taught you that human beings are not machines, they are organic creatures, capable of great warmth and great frigidity. The news will paint an individual as all evil or all good depending on what political point they're trying to make. A college graduate can be a drug dealer. And that person can be murdered or live 100 years. Never think for one moment that there's any justice in it. Just remember that any report had an angle, besides this one.
Someone I worked with for 1 1/2 years was murdered last week. He was not one of those people. But in the same breath, I don't think it was a devastating loss. That is the true nuance of an unexpected death. The expected reaction is to always think it was a terrible loss, no matter who it was. The more honest reaction is to be glad if it was someone you hated, and sad if it was anyone else. And still, there is a reaction much like mine, a complete neutrality mixed with a feeling of "glad I didn't have to be there".
The victim in question was a person who played many roles, which I repect. He was a towson university student, who had just graduated months before his death. He dealt tons of cannabis. Everyone knew that, and even to the untrained eye, he could be seen doling out cannabis to practical strangers. He liked athletics, he liked pop culture. He was both a loser and a winner, depending on your preconceptions and your perception. And that's the way most of us are.
The news reports only what suit and tie america would be devestated by: Towson University graduate, outside of baltimore city limits, shot in the back of the head. The same news story could read: Known drug dealer, because of possible drug war, shot in the back of the head. And this is the same individual we're talking about.
When I lived in baltimore, I would listen to local radio, which ran an audio version of "murder ink", an excellent column in the city paper reporting the weekly murder count. Whenever a victim was mentioned by name, someone would call in to describe how though he may have been involved with drug dealing, this was really a good kid. They'd mention the various redeemable qualities he had and the positive things he was involved in. I always shrugged it off. Not that I didn't believe it, but really because I thought that it was a cover for his darker side.
No longer. If the movie/book clockwork orange taught you anything besides "sociopathy seems pretty fun", it taught you that human beings are not machines, they are organic creatures, capable of great warmth and great frigidity. The news will paint an individual as all evil or all good depending on what political point they're trying to make. A college graduate can be a drug dealer. And that person can be murdered or live 100 years. Never think for one moment that there's any justice in it. Just remember that any report had an angle, besides this one.
all or all
There is an unforgiving mood regarding human behavior, which is almost always unjustified. It resonates from and "all or nothing" mentality. Normally I like that, but when it applies to the judgement of someones character it's problematic.
A chief example is when it comes to drinking alcohol. Chronic alcoholics are expected by the majority to quit cold turkey, and if they have 1 more drink, or 33 more, they have relapsed. Truth be told, All they've done is had some alcohol, and are guilty of no more. It's not decisive victory for addiction- from that moment on they could still quit, and even if they still drink less often they've probably reduced some of their issues with it.
The same is obviously applied to other drug use. "I tried to quit, but then something really stressful happened and I was all like "yo I need a cig". Ok, you needed a cig, but you don't neccesarily need another, do you? Give the rest of the pack to the neighborhood kids.
There is alot of stupidity surrounding vegetarianism, none of which is the vegetarianism itself(which only means not eating meat, by the way). Whenever somebody finds out I'm a vegetarian through some accidental personable conversation, someone pipes up with some ridiculous anecdote that goes almost exactly as such "I was a vegetarian for a while, but then someone offered me a burger/turkey/been jerkey, and I ate it". There is never an addition of "and it was great, so I kept eating meat". In fact, they usually add "It was... ok". Well, then you ate meat. You could still go back to a vegetarian diet, and similar to quitting anything, you'll still be better off if you do it most of the time, if you can't do it all the time.
This applies to a multitude of things. We hang people out to dry for having a drink, a cigarette, or a sandwhich, instead of the people who don't have the presence of mind to even question their actions or the wherewithal to try something new.
A chief example is when it comes to drinking alcohol. Chronic alcoholics are expected by the majority to quit cold turkey, and if they have 1 more drink, or 33 more, they have relapsed. Truth be told, All they've done is had some alcohol, and are guilty of no more. It's not decisive victory for addiction- from that moment on they could still quit, and even if they still drink less often they've probably reduced some of their issues with it.
The same is obviously applied to other drug use. "I tried to quit, but then something really stressful happened and I was all like "yo I need a cig". Ok, you needed a cig, but you don't neccesarily need another, do you? Give the rest of the pack to the neighborhood kids.
There is alot of stupidity surrounding vegetarianism, none of which is the vegetarianism itself(which only means not eating meat, by the way). Whenever somebody finds out I'm a vegetarian through some accidental personable conversation, someone pipes up with some ridiculous anecdote that goes almost exactly as such "I was a vegetarian for a while, but then someone offered me a burger/turkey/been jerkey, and I ate it". There is never an addition of "and it was great, so I kept eating meat". In fact, they usually add "It was... ok". Well, then you ate meat. You could still go back to a vegetarian diet, and similar to quitting anything, you'll still be better off if you do it most of the time, if you can't do it all the time.
This applies to a multitude of things. We hang people out to dry for having a drink, a cigarette, or a sandwhich, instead of the people who don't have the presence of mind to even question their actions or the wherewithal to try something new.
Using drugs in the new century
This century is about 9 years in and you're probably wondering what's the big deal. Or, you think you're still lost in 2002 and you ought to be lost now. How do you stay on the cutting edge? Well one thing that's changing, and not been explained well(esspecially in the following text) is cultural attitudes toward drug use.
The late 1900s was a very strange backlash against our friends: mind altering chemicals. Before the war on drugs started, drug use in the U.S. was at an all time low, including alcohol. Not so mysteriously, It has risen since. But which drugs, in particular? Well, heroin, cocaine, nicotine, and PCP use are down, and alcohol, cannabis, and caffeine use are up. Ecstacy use is up, but I believe that is a fluke of novelty.
There you have it, and probably in your cupboard/coffee table/pocket/bloodstream. The war on drugs "taught" us that all drugs are used for escapism, because they're easier than more traditional stess relief methods: crying, self-harm and murder. However, the premise is wrong. All drugs are not used for escapism. The most commonly used drugs now and over the course of history have been maintenance drugs.
What is a maintenance drug, your mom asks? It is a drug that is not used for escapism, but clarity. A drug that is not used to hide or get away, but rather problem solve and live the sober life(as much of it as you have to) more effectively. Often attached to alcohol and cannabis is the adage "functional". As in, "functional alcoholic" and "functional stoner". To attach this to those lifestyles is as wrong-headed as saying "functional television watcher" or "functional excerciser". Of course they are functional, because as long as they're not obsessive or otherwise mentally ill, their activity is a hobby. If their hobby alters the functioning of their brain, then that is a side effect they have chosen to accept because it is mild or positive.
It is often found with not-surprising shock that heavy-drug users and non-drugs users have more personality in common than those who "moderate". It seems intuitive to me. Non-drug users and heavy drug users are people who don't-want-to-and-don't, and do-want-to-and-do, respectively. Moderate drugs users are either people who don't-want-to-and-do or do-want-to-and-don't. The last group shows a true lack of conviction, living in a wishy-washy, non-commital haze. The first keeps a firm grip on reality and takes strong stances.
Deciding "I will alter how I subjectively perceive reality through the use of this chemical compound for my betterment" is not escapism at all. Being a completely different person with completely different motives from moment to moment is. It's quite literally escaping over and over again. The sober and the habitually inebriated know who they are. Those who dabble here and there in this and that are still searching.
The late 1900s was a very strange backlash against our friends: mind altering chemicals. Before the war on drugs started, drug use in the U.S. was at an all time low, including alcohol. Not so mysteriously, It has risen since. But which drugs, in particular? Well, heroin, cocaine, nicotine, and PCP use are down, and alcohol, cannabis, and caffeine use are up. Ecstacy use is up, but I believe that is a fluke of novelty.
There you have it, and probably in your cupboard/coffee table/pocket/bloodstream. The war on drugs "taught" us that all drugs are used for escapism, because they're easier than more traditional stess relief methods: crying, self-harm and murder. However, the premise is wrong. All drugs are not used for escapism. The most commonly used drugs now and over the course of history have been maintenance drugs.
What is a maintenance drug, your mom asks? It is a drug that is not used for escapism, but clarity. A drug that is not used to hide or get away, but rather problem solve and live the sober life(as much of it as you have to) more effectively. Often attached to alcohol and cannabis is the adage "functional". As in, "functional alcoholic" and "functional stoner". To attach this to those lifestyles is as wrong-headed as saying "functional television watcher" or "functional excerciser". Of course they are functional, because as long as they're not obsessive or otherwise mentally ill, their activity is a hobby. If their hobby alters the functioning of their brain, then that is a side effect they have chosen to accept because it is mild or positive.
It is often found with not-surprising shock that heavy-drug users and non-drugs users have more personality in common than those who "moderate". It seems intuitive to me. Non-drug users and heavy drug users are people who don't-want-to-and-don't, and do-want-to-and-do, respectively. Moderate drugs users are either people who don't-want-to-and-do or do-want-to-and-don't. The last group shows a true lack of conviction, living in a wishy-washy, non-commital haze. The first keeps a firm grip on reality and takes strong stances.
Deciding "I will alter how I subjectively perceive reality through the use of this chemical compound for my betterment" is not escapism at all. Being a completely different person with completely different motives from moment to moment is. It's quite literally escaping over and over again. The sober and the habitually inebriated know who they are. Those who dabble here and there in this and that are still searching.
right now
It’s commonly said by “deep” individuals and other ridiculous sources that a person should “live in the moment”. The more I talk to other people(which isn’t much) I realize how little the people who expound this idea do it, even though it’s a decent sentiment.
There is no time I’ve been more aware of how much they’re not doing it than when I’ve had girlfriends. “My ex used to...”, “I remember when my parents...”, “I remember when I...” Really? Who even keeps track of this shit? There’s 1- 467,200 more hours ahead of you to live. It’s as if there’s flowers in front of you and you take time to smell the dirt.
It would be respectable enough if the memory had some application to the present of the future, but when I listen to “past-oriented” individuals it’s like verbal intercourse that’s half-limp and half-dry with no climax for either party. I wonder at the same time how many more delightful memories they’re squandering right now day-dreaming about some outmoded version of themselves living in an environment that would be pointless to go back to, even if it were possible.
So I was driving to work, the sun was shining, there was some low-income youth taking a 40 back to his rented one-bedroom apartment/possible squat, a total prick driving a teched-out foreign car in front of me, and it occurred to me just how much more committed I am to these strangers than I am to the people in my memory. All the ex-girlfriends, ex-friends, ex-feelings and my ex-life have less effect on me than if the car in front of me comes to a sudden stop or that urban youth bought the last St. Ides special brew. I focused my eyes and smiled.
There is no time I’ve been more aware of how much they’re not doing it than when I’ve had girlfriends. “My ex used to...”, “I remember when my parents...”, “I remember when I...” Really? Who even keeps track of this shit? There’s 1- 467,200 more hours ahead of you to live. It’s as if there’s flowers in front of you and you take time to smell the dirt.
It would be respectable enough if the memory had some application to the present of the future, but when I listen to “past-oriented” individuals it’s like verbal intercourse that’s half-limp and half-dry with no climax for either party. I wonder at the same time how many more delightful memories they’re squandering right now day-dreaming about some outmoded version of themselves living in an environment that would be pointless to go back to, even if it were possible.
So I was driving to work, the sun was shining, there was some low-income youth taking a 40 back to his rented one-bedroom apartment/possible squat, a total prick driving a teched-out foreign car in front of me, and it occurred to me just how much more committed I am to these strangers than I am to the people in my memory. All the ex-girlfriends, ex-friends, ex-feelings and my ex-life have less effect on me than if the car in front of me comes to a sudden stop or that urban youth bought the last St. Ides special brew. I focused my eyes and smiled.
cold water
Time to purge, as vomit does. Out of my mouth, or yours, we have to get it out. Don’t be afraid, it’s over and out like CB radios. Fuzzy Transmission sometimes. It’s not as urgent as that truckers funny transmission. He loses his rig and hopes there’s some sand in the next 30 miles. They say it’s for runaway trucks but it’s really for stopping trucks. Runaway trucks stop at the diner, get more fuel, coffee and gruel and wind up like a spool. It’s easy to fool the cops, so it’s not much harder to fool the robbers. They play themselves when they take what’s mine, they take what’s ours. It’s like stealing your own halloween candy. Fuck the swedish fish and candy corn, with a hot meal I couldn’t be pampered more. There is no pleasure just the satisfaction of urges, and urges can run deep like magma at the earths core. The whole world doesn’t have enough for me, and I’ll never run out of something to give back. I suck blood, I’m a vampire, I’m back like vampire bats on your bottle of liquor. Thought you were through but you must have something to settle. It’s a test of your meddle like chromoly 7150. Do a trick, there’s some applause but most just watch. It can’t be real, they hope, cause if it is it makes them feel uncomfortable. They wonder why giving a place for people to do counter-cultural things doesn’t work. It’s because then it’s culture. Better to be a vulture, then you get to a fly away, even if corpses taste like cold grits and feet. It’s nice to meet you even though you could be a total prick I must defeat. I’m still happy to rise to the challenge, and I thank you in a left-handed sense, I’m off balance. I’m on tilt; bent, uneasy but more often than not I don’t feel queasy. That’s when you know it was the right move. Sometimes you can take them back like when you play chess with a good friend. He doesn’t think it’s important to win, but a stranger does. It’s strange. You can’t get a grip on human behavior anymore than a hanging victim gets a grip on a noose with his neck. So tip-toe and look out, keep your eyes peeled, hope your hearing is good. Cause they’re trying to get you, esspecially those who don’t know who you are. Don’t trust anyone who’s not trying to “get his” because that means he’s trying to get yours. If you try to lead a quiet life you’ll be woken up with a bucket of cold water.
imitation is the highest form of idiocy
It’s said that art imitates life. This is true, but more accurately: art imitates the extremes of life. That’s what we call a dramatic portrayal. I have the sneaking suspicion many people think they're living in one.
If so, what we have is people using their life to imitate art that imitates life. The results are not drama, but melodrama, and not humor, but obnoxiousness. I have thought that people were “acting their parts” in all areas of my life. They can do it in any situation, as long as it has been dramatized. There’s a well known phenomenon of criminal acts that imitate movie and TV crimes. If that happens, I think it's very likely that people are doing the same imitations when they’re at their jobs, with their object of affection, or spending time with their friends.
And why wouldn’t they? Almost every dramatic portrayal, unless cautionary, ends with justice, life-affirmation and happiness. So, the monkey brain thinks that if it acts like that charming fellow in the romantic comedy, then a beautiful woman who is not interested in him will eventually change her mind and fall in love with him forever. And if the bank-robbers you saw on TV managed to walk in a bank, act real mean and walk out with cash, why couldn’t you do it?
Because of harassment laws and dye-packs, respectively. Much of the neurotic, ridiculous behavior in drama is not only not pragmatic, but distasteful if attempted in real life. The best jobs are the ones where you are left alone, not bombarded with thoughtless one-liners and practical jokes. The best romantic relationships are between people with mutual respect and individual personal lives. The crimes people get away with are the small ones.
When the TV is off, when the book is closed, your life is not a challenge to rival it. Your life is simple and not as stupid and wild. I’m very sorry.
If so, what we have is people using their life to imitate art that imitates life. The results are not drama, but melodrama, and not humor, but obnoxiousness. I have thought that people were “acting their parts” in all areas of my life. They can do it in any situation, as long as it has been dramatized. There’s a well known phenomenon of criminal acts that imitate movie and TV crimes. If that happens, I think it's very likely that people are doing the same imitations when they’re at their jobs, with their object of affection, or spending time with their friends.
And why wouldn’t they? Almost every dramatic portrayal, unless cautionary, ends with justice, life-affirmation and happiness. So, the monkey brain thinks that if it acts like that charming fellow in the romantic comedy, then a beautiful woman who is not interested in him will eventually change her mind and fall in love with him forever. And if the bank-robbers you saw on TV managed to walk in a bank, act real mean and walk out with cash, why couldn’t you do it?
Because of harassment laws and dye-packs, respectively. Much of the neurotic, ridiculous behavior in drama is not only not pragmatic, but distasteful if attempted in real life. The best jobs are the ones where you are left alone, not bombarded with thoughtless one-liners and practical jokes. The best romantic relationships are between people with mutual respect and individual personal lives. The crimes people get away with are the small ones.
When the TV is off, when the book is closed, your life is not a challenge to rival it. Your life is simple and not as stupid and wild. I’m very sorry.
The real reefer madness
A lot of scare tactics were used to stop the cultivation of cannabis in the US, in the beginning of this century and continuing to the present. Even the name "marijuana", which is the spanish word for the plant, was likewise cultivated to use racial tensions to demonize cannabis. Among the most famous, campy portrayals of the supposed dangers of cannabis was the film "reefer madness" which depicted people jumping out of windows and performing many antisocial acts due to smoking it.
Of course it was and is untrue, but unfortunately this caused a backlash from otherwise rational, thinking cannabis users to think that no only was cannabis not as dangerous as portrayed, but that it wasn't dangerous at all and was in fact good. The results of the flowering backlash are so vast that cannabis is now misunderstood in the opposite direction.
I recently watched a movie called "humboldt county", which starts innocently enough, involving an unhappy man having sex with an insane woman: The cornerstone of human prorogation. From then, it starts with a pretty bleak portrayal of lifestyle cannabis growing and use, and slowly throughout the course of the movie the portrayal lifts(or drops) into a more sympathetic, and loving position. Cannabis users and growers, though not criminals, are not noble figures. Nor are they evil. They just devoted their life to a single drug, which is fucking stupid.
Fun Facts:
-Cannabis does make you dumber. The drop might not be of much consequence, but it's true. There may be high-functioning examples of potheads, but that is not the norm.
-Most cannabis users are only superficially concerned with environmental issues, just like the rest of us. Though they could ingest their drug in other forms, they smoke it. Why? Because they get a better high. Burning anything pollutes.
-(this happens in all drug movies) Everyone who doesn't use cannabis is not a total square. There are so many history-making radicals who thought that drugs were of no importance. Even the average cobe on the street, sober out of his goddamn mind, is not neccesarily lame. In addition, not everyone who uses a drug is a broad, creative thinking person. Many are complete squares themselves.
-Cannabis is not a natural enemy of any other drug. What advocates of maintence-drugs often do is demonize "competing drugs", as if to make the case for their own drug by negation. This is pretty mindless, as the hate for other drugs is usually as ill-founded as the hate for their own. Legalizing all drugs is sensible. The idea of legalizing some and not others is what got us into this mess of locking up pot-growers in the first place.
And the problem with these misconceptions is that it causes a false sense of security. This particular movie depicted a backwoods community in which cannabis was the equivalent of a ticket out. In such situations, people literally do go nuts over the ticket, and being high on cannabis does nothing to "medicate" said individuals. Anyone who thinks legalizing drugs would stop all drug-related crime is lying to themselves. People will always steal eachothers cannabis crops for the same reason they steal eachothers TVs and stick each other up for the money in each others pockets. Bad laws do propagate some crime, but not all of it. A bunch of potheads sitting around talking about how "if only" the government would change it's position; they could all be saved, is naive. There is more to contend with, like a drug addicts nature. Not that they get DT's when they don't smoke, but that they're willing to do anything to build their lives around pot, including stealing from others. That's the real reefer madness, and it does exist.
Of course it was and is untrue, but unfortunately this caused a backlash from otherwise rational, thinking cannabis users to think that no only was cannabis not as dangerous as portrayed, but that it wasn't dangerous at all and was in fact good. The results of the flowering backlash are so vast that cannabis is now misunderstood in the opposite direction.
I recently watched a movie called "humboldt county", which starts innocently enough, involving an unhappy man having sex with an insane woman: The cornerstone of human prorogation. From then, it starts with a pretty bleak portrayal of lifestyle cannabis growing and use, and slowly throughout the course of the movie the portrayal lifts(or drops) into a more sympathetic, and loving position. Cannabis users and growers, though not criminals, are not noble figures. Nor are they evil. They just devoted their life to a single drug, which is fucking stupid.
Fun Facts:
-Cannabis does make you dumber. The drop might not be of much consequence, but it's true. There may be high-functioning examples of potheads, but that is not the norm.
-Most cannabis users are only superficially concerned with environmental issues, just like the rest of us. Though they could ingest their drug in other forms, they smoke it. Why? Because they get a better high. Burning anything pollutes.
-(this happens in all drug movies) Everyone who doesn't use cannabis is not a total square. There are so many history-making radicals who thought that drugs were of no importance. Even the average cobe on the street, sober out of his goddamn mind, is not neccesarily lame. In addition, not everyone who uses a drug is a broad, creative thinking person. Many are complete squares themselves.
-Cannabis is not a natural enemy of any other drug. What advocates of maintence-drugs often do is demonize "competing drugs", as if to make the case for their own drug by negation. This is pretty mindless, as the hate for other drugs is usually as ill-founded as the hate for their own. Legalizing all drugs is sensible. The idea of legalizing some and not others is what got us into this mess of locking up pot-growers in the first place.
And the problem with these misconceptions is that it causes a false sense of security. This particular movie depicted a backwoods community in which cannabis was the equivalent of a ticket out. In such situations, people literally do go nuts over the ticket, and being high on cannabis does nothing to "medicate" said individuals. Anyone who thinks legalizing drugs would stop all drug-related crime is lying to themselves. People will always steal eachothers cannabis crops for the same reason they steal eachothers TVs and stick each other up for the money in each others pockets. Bad laws do propagate some crime, but not all of it. A bunch of potheads sitting around talking about how "if only" the government would change it's position; they could all be saved, is naive. There is more to contend with, like a drug addicts nature. Not that they get DT's when they don't smoke, but that they're willing to do anything to build their lives around pot, including stealing from others. That's the real reefer madness, and it does exist.
A for effort, F for competence
I spent my years in school blinded by my rage at every waking moment, and could never fully articulate what was so terrible at the time. That's one of the problems with forcing children into institutions and setting standards for them. They almost always lack the requisite skills to express their grief, and often only manage to come up with something like "I don't like school".
Even for 2 years afterward, I just put all thoughts about school out of my mind, because I didn't want to waste any more time on it. Yet I did promise myself that someday, when I was sure the nightmare was over, I would explain calmly what was so awful. Hence...
Grades being the ultimate standard for a students performance is a terrible idea. The day I always paid the most attention to was the first day of class(while most of my classmates were busy sleeping or tripping balls on cough syrup). On that day, the teacher would explain the way they grade, I assume as a matter of standard practice. They put it on the chalkboard, on the energy-consuming projector, or on a sheet of paper, and every student but me didn't listen and didn't remember.
They each had their own system, but Homework was never more than 30% of the grade. So if I knew a subject pretty damn well from watching the history channel or asking questions when I was 9, I figured if I just got A's on all the classwork and tests, I would pass. I quickly realized how this "system" of grading was make-pretend. I would get A's or B's on my tests and classwork, and ask the teacher why I failed. They would say "you didn't do your homework". I would say that homework was only 30% of my grade, and they would look at me as if their asscheeks were clenching together, in shock that a student actualy remembered that. Then they informed me that when they review homework in class, that counts as class participation, which is classwork. When I would remind them that I did participate in homework review without doing the homework, they would say something that demonstrated that they had no response/were getting Delerium Tremens.
On one particularly nauseating occasion, I checked out my "progress report", and compared it directly to another students next to me. I noticed that there were simply more homework assignments listed on mine, so that the average was different for me than the other student. When I brought this up, the teacher was present, but probable thinking about a bottle of scotch at home or one of the attractive 15 year old women in the class. I realized another way that this "system" can be corrupted.
Another thing teachers would tell me up untill the 3rd quarter was that they take "marked improvement" into consideration. Meaning that, If I passed my last 2 quarters with A or B grades, despite failing the first 2, that they "might" let me pass. They never said that they absolutely would, so what was the incentive for trying? If I did work to pass them, then they could simply fail me cause they feel like it. So on several occasions, I opted to fail the class and take it with a different teacher rather than waste my time. Nothing about this system was set in stone, and I sure as hell didn't trust anyone who made the decision to be a school teacher.
When those situations came up, I would talk to the guidance counselor about how I was in a class for no reason. I had several unique solutions, always that my parents approved of, but they didn't. Among them:
Instead of taking a class that I'll fail, I could have a free period, in the cafeteria or library, to do my homework for other classes. My grades would improve in that case, and I wouldn't be a dead body in a useless class. Answer: No.
If it was the first class of the day, I could simply come in later. I would be more rested, and not waste mine or the teachers time. Answer: No.
I could switch to another class that I need. That way, I could get something else out of the way. At this they always(I mean ALWAYS) told be "there are too many students in that class already" but never put a hard figure on it. Sometimes there were 26, sometimes there where 31. How many Cobe Soldos does it take to fill a class? Answer: No.
Through the school refusing to accommodate me, I was forced to do what I thought was right, which was to skip the class and do something else, sometimes that something else was literally just to sit alone outside somewhere. Other times it was to go to someone elses lunch period and spend time with them. I have no regrets.
The climax so to speak came in 12th grade, my last year. Firstly, They let me know that I had enough credits to get my diploma without passing my first class. I was only interested in getting the bare-bones dimploma by this point, So I didn't waste my time on this class. They let me know that my "school attendance" for the day depended on attending my first class. Why? With this system, I could literally attend only my first class and go home, and that would count for more than skipping my first class and attending the rest of them. In any case, I did the latter most of the time, leading them to tell me that I had too many "absences"(despite attending every other class) and that I would have to take summer classes to get my dimploma. At this, I asked them on the spot for the paperwork to drop-out. They changed their minds on the spot, as well.
Then, in a class I did need to pass(English 12), I found out that my teacher was grading students differently. There's no way to sugar-coat that, and it's not excusable. The breaking point was when I turned in work on time, the Teacher "read it carefully" and gave me a C. Another student turned in work late, the teacher didn't read it and marked A on it immediately. When that happened, I told him that he's treating students to different standards, and walked out. When I came in the next day, he promised me "he would tell" the administration that I walked out, and "forgive me". I kept up with my assertion that he was wrong and I did the right thing. Of course things soured after that, but my passing the class came down to the final exam of the year. Because of a grading curve, I got a 123%, which would have been a 90% without the curve. That means that some other student got a 37%, with the curve got a 60%, and passed just like me. What is the rationale behind a grading curve? Because I did better by comparison, I did better than 100%? The idea blew my mind, but also, when it average into my other grades, caused me to pass the class.
I can't count how many times a teacher marked homework "A for completion" without grading it. That means that the mindless assholes surrounding me got A's on homework just for writing absolutely anything for their answers, and I got nothing. On more than a dozen occasions I was saved by my final exam, when the teacher would remark "maybe you do know this stuff". Wow! Who would've thought that I didn't need daily reenforcement to remember basic skills?
In many cases, grading and attendance not only had no relation to wether the student understood and could apply the material, but it was used against me to fail me based on my character or personality. What then is school good for? Is there a reason I couldn't just take the final exam at the beginning of the course to skip it? Yes. The reason is social control. They never let me come in late, hang out in the library or do what made sense because they simply had to keep my off the streets and out of the community for 3-6 hours of the day in my prime years. Fuck the teachers, Fuck the classes, and Fuck the system. It works for the mindless, and doesn't work for anyone else.
Even for 2 years afterward, I just put all thoughts about school out of my mind, because I didn't want to waste any more time on it. Yet I did promise myself that someday, when I was sure the nightmare was over, I would explain calmly what was so awful. Hence...
Grades being the ultimate standard for a students performance is a terrible idea. The day I always paid the most attention to was the first day of class(while most of my classmates were busy sleeping or tripping balls on cough syrup). On that day, the teacher would explain the way they grade, I assume as a matter of standard practice. They put it on the chalkboard, on the energy-consuming projector, or on a sheet of paper, and every student but me didn't listen and didn't remember.
They each had their own system, but Homework was never more than 30% of the grade. So if I knew a subject pretty damn well from watching the history channel or asking questions when I was 9, I figured if I just got A's on all the classwork and tests, I would pass. I quickly realized how this "system" of grading was make-pretend. I would get A's or B's on my tests and classwork, and ask the teacher why I failed. They would say "you didn't do your homework". I would say that homework was only 30% of my grade, and they would look at me as if their asscheeks were clenching together, in shock that a student actualy remembered that. Then they informed me that when they review homework in class, that counts as class participation, which is classwork. When I would remind them that I did participate in homework review without doing the homework, they would say something that demonstrated that they had no response/were getting Delerium Tremens.
On one particularly nauseating occasion, I checked out my "progress report", and compared it directly to another students next to me. I noticed that there were simply more homework assignments listed on mine, so that the average was different for me than the other student. When I brought this up, the teacher was present, but probable thinking about a bottle of scotch at home or one of the attractive 15 year old women in the class. I realized another way that this "system" can be corrupted.
Another thing teachers would tell me up untill the 3rd quarter was that they take "marked improvement" into consideration. Meaning that, If I passed my last 2 quarters with A or B grades, despite failing the first 2, that they "might" let me pass. They never said that they absolutely would, so what was the incentive for trying? If I did work to pass them, then they could simply fail me cause they feel like it. So on several occasions, I opted to fail the class and take it with a different teacher rather than waste my time. Nothing about this system was set in stone, and I sure as hell didn't trust anyone who made the decision to be a school teacher.
When those situations came up, I would talk to the guidance counselor about how I was in a class for no reason. I had several unique solutions, always that my parents approved of, but they didn't. Among them:
Instead of taking a class that I'll fail, I could have a free period, in the cafeteria or library, to do my homework for other classes. My grades would improve in that case, and I wouldn't be a dead body in a useless class. Answer: No.
If it was the first class of the day, I could simply come in later. I would be more rested, and not waste mine or the teachers time. Answer: No.
I could switch to another class that I need. That way, I could get something else out of the way. At this they always(I mean ALWAYS) told be "there are too many students in that class already" but never put a hard figure on it. Sometimes there were 26, sometimes there where 31. How many Cobe Soldos does it take to fill a class? Answer: No.
Through the school refusing to accommodate me, I was forced to do what I thought was right, which was to skip the class and do something else, sometimes that something else was literally just to sit alone outside somewhere. Other times it was to go to someone elses lunch period and spend time with them. I have no regrets.
The climax so to speak came in 12th grade, my last year. Firstly, They let me know that I had enough credits to get my diploma without passing my first class. I was only interested in getting the bare-bones dimploma by this point, So I didn't waste my time on this class. They let me know that my "school attendance" for the day depended on attending my first class. Why? With this system, I could literally attend only my first class and go home, and that would count for more than skipping my first class and attending the rest of them. In any case, I did the latter most of the time, leading them to tell me that I had too many "absences"(despite attending every other class) and that I would have to take summer classes to get my dimploma. At this, I asked them on the spot for the paperwork to drop-out. They changed their minds on the spot, as well.
Then, in a class I did need to pass(English 12), I found out that my teacher was grading students differently. There's no way to sugar-coat that, and it's not excusable. The breaking point was when I turned in work on time, the Teacher "read it carefully" and gave me a C. Another student turned in work late, the teacher didn't read it and marked A on it immediately. When that happened, I told him that he's treating students to different standards, and walked out. When I came in the next day, he promised me "he would tell" the administration that I walked out, and "forgive me". I kept up with my assertion that he was wrong and I did the right thing. Of course things soured after that, but my passing the class came down to the final exam of the year. Because of a grading curve, I got a 123%, which would have been a 90% without the curve. That means that some other student got a 37%, with the curve got a 60%, and passed just like me. What is the rationale behind a grading curve? Because I did better by comparison, I did better than 100%? The idea blew my mind, but also, when it average into my other grades, caused me to pass the class.
I can't count how many times a teacher marked homework "A for completion" without grading it. That means that the mindless assholes surrounding me got A's on homework just for writing absolutely anything for their answers, and I got nothing. On more than a dozen occasions I was saved by my final exam, when the teacher would remark "maybe you do know this stuff". Wow! Who would've thought that I didn't need daily reenforcement to remember basic skills?
In many cases, grading and attendance not only had no relation to wether the student understood and could apply the material, but it was used against me to fail me based on my character or personality. What then is school good for? Is there a reason I couldn't just take the final exam at the beginning of the course to skip it? Yes. The reason is social control. They never let me come in late, hang out in the library or do what made sense because they simply had to keep my off the streets and out of the community for 3-6 hours of the day in my prime years. Fuck the teachers, Fuck the classes, and Fuck the system. It works for the mindless, and doesn't work for anyone else.
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