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.
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.
hi koos
Ask the wilderness
to care about you; it won't.
you belong at home.
Five more syllables
for victory. The problem
is not time, but math.
A buried corpse and
a happy carefree man are
each just as lifeless.
Thumbtacks: sometimes sharp.
Only a man thinks he could
be sharp all the time.
Quell your appetites
not by stopping them frozen.
Let them thaw you out.
Calm meditation.
Yell and scream that it's clever.
I think you are scared.
to care about you; it won't.
you belong at home.
Five more syllables
for victory. The problem
is not time, but math.
A buried corpse and
a happy carefree man are
each just as lifeless.
Thumbtacks: sometimes sharp.
Only a man thinks he could
be sharp all the time.
Quell your appetites
not by stopping them frozen.
Let them thaw you out.
Calm meditation.
Yell and scream that it's clever.
I think you are scared.
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