Change

Now, during the post-inaugural coverage, every time that a reporter casually utters the words "the President", another as yet sleeping part of my brain, that for 8 years has been trained to imagine George W. Bush when it hears the words "the President", that for 8 years has heard "the President" and sulked with quiet, confused disappointment, is awoken to the new reality, and creates for me a new, fresh moment of happiness. Every time.

A very delayed addendum to....

or perhaps summary of this earlier post of mine. Said far more succinctly and understandably than I was able to, by one of Barack Obama's "favorite philosophers" and the guy who created the serenity prayer:

Democracy is finding proximate solutions to insoluble problems. 
Reinhold Niebuhr 

From Walden

I hope I never posted this before. To be honest, with years of sporadic effort and forgetfullness, I haven't made it entirely through Walden or any other Thoreau just yet, but I definitely liked this bit and thought it good to pass it along:

I see young men, my townsmen, whose misfortune it is to have inherited farms, houses, barns, cattle, and farming tools; for these are more easily acquired than got rid of. Better if they had been born in the open pasture and suckled by a wolf, that they might have seen with clearer eyes what field they were called to labor in. Who made them serfs of the soil? Why should they eat their sixty acres, when man is condemned to eat only his peck of dirt? Why should they begin digging their graves as soon as they are born? They have got to live a man's life, pushing all these things before them, and get on as well as they can. How many a poor immortal soul have I met well-nigh crushed and smothered under its load, creeping down the road of life, pushing before it a barn seventy-five feet by forty, its Augean stables never cleansed, and one hundred acres of land, tillage, mowing, pasture, and woodlot! The portionless, who struggle with no such unnecessary inherited encumbrances, find it labor enough to subdue and cultivate a few cubic feet of flesh. 

Interesting Trivia:

Most corporations pay no US Income tax

numbness

sad again. sad is when i write, most often. the view then is skewed. alone on a saturday again, but not too worried about it. more than anything, worried that i'm not worried. social interaction, at least for the past week, has felt like more trouble than it's worth, and i'm frequently and spontaneously hearing a reminder in my head that nobody can give me or take from me anything of any real value. still, social interaction, and the need for it remains a puzzle. and it must be driving me at least somewhat, because i'm posting this online rather than writing it in a notebook. reminded of dfw quote i read recently about how ridiculous language is, that trying to express what comprises ones inner reality through words is like forcing a large object through one of those old style keyholes. we have to settle for whatever gets through the keyhole, the room behind the door will remain completely mysterious.

words are really inadequate, indeed. but i soldier on.

some time ago, i wrote an entry about social awkwardness. i'm experiencing something similar right now too, but there's a bit more detroit in my internal dialogue. lately my natural behavior runs counter to my usual type-a tendencies. at a loss for words often, words jumbled and uncertain when they do escape, a bit uncomfortable around people. it may leave me friendless, conceivably, or at least without some of the friendships i've built more recently. inside, when anxiety comes up, i ask myself what exactly i'm afraid of. the answer is either losing a friendship, or far worse, receiving the energy of dislike from someone i value, and having to tolerate that rejection every time we interact. that thought makes me very uncomfortable even now, at such great remove. but the dialogue inside is somewhat different nowadays: a growing lobby tells me to just let these friendships go if need be. what can it matter if this person or that person likes me. peoples approval of me has no real value, perceiving value in it is just a trick i play on myself. it's a small loop in my program, it gives me a small amount of pleasure or displeasure all day, it's perfectly arbitrary and useless, yet- fully dominant. vestigial. a tribal and pretribal remnant. most of the social tendencies selected for in the past are completely unnecessary in modern liberal democracies. being able to evaluate whether or not others are trustworthy is no longer necessary when we're not engaged in bartering with necessary delays ("i owe you one, thanks").. we solve that problem with money. it doesn't really matter what people think of me as long as i have the money to support myself while alive, and as long as i don't go against the current social contract, laws. in the past, reputation was survival. etc. etc.

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this thing is fully numb. no use for pleasure.

To Catch A Predator

Does anybody still read my site? I don't know. Anyway, here is an Esquire article about "To Catch A Predator".

A while ago, I seriously contemplated writing a long post about the show, about how much it disgusts me and how it makes me feel hopeless about our country. Not because of the predators. But because people are not learning that human beings often have sicknesses and weaknesses that they don't create. Would anyone choose to be sexually attracted to children? No more than any man would choose to be attracted to a woman. These people are already suffering. And we shame them because we are trapped by the illusion that "agency" is a real thing, and that there are "bad guys", and perhaps because when bad guys are easy to spot, we can feel better about ourselves. In short, we are fucking retarded, and we're not learning anything.

Is it the job of law enforcement to destroy the lives of individuals? Or would it be better to seek these people out, and actively keep them away from minors, while giving them counseling and perhaps even medication to boost their cortical, impulse blocking activity? Who among them could ever admit to their troubles and seek help for them in our America? People say that this show is a deterrant. Perhaps. But I don't think that this effect justifies full on entrapment, and the destruction, not only of the lives of the "predators" but also their families. The Esquire article shows the ugliness of this shows methods and the consequences quite clearly. A good read.

So why didn't I write this before? Laziness, of course, laziness is a big reason. Also, being sympathetic to the plight of pedophiles is an uncomfortable stance to take, and I am weak willed, I guess. It makes me feel like I am walking alone against the current of the rest of the world. Even Jon Stewart had nothing but praise for Chris Hansen when he was on the Daily Show. So I don't know. Draw your own conclusions. Maybe the world is devoid of grey.

(via kottke.org)

Ryokan

The first day of autumn
returning from alms round
I set down my bowl by the temple
to go play with the children.
Last year: a foolish monk.
This year: no change.

--Ryokan

Hey!

Something good happened somewhere!

A Difficult Time

I wonder how the reader feels about whining? Seriously though, this is a really, really rough time for me, all because of one thing- my self esteem is by far at the lowest point that it's ever been at. This is because all the insulation that surrounded my ego has been destroyed very suddenly. An approximate, oversimplified timeline:

12 or 13 years old - The discovery that I was fucking ridiculously awesome and destined to be king of the world. A serious narcissism and megalomania took root here, an unwavering sense that I was important and that everything I did mattered way more than what other people did.

13-19 - I was a total, entitled asshole to everyone in my life, completely out of touch with reality. Also, perhaps an average to below average musician with delusions of grandeur about my skill in that and every other sphere.

20 - I became somewhat bored with everything. I still felt like I was fucking ridiculously awesome, but I wanted a change, so I decided to experiment with drugs for the first time, weed in particular which lead to-

20-21 - The Golden Age. The best time of my life to date. Weed made my ego dissolve, made me humble, curious, meditative and generous. A truly beautiful time. But smoking constantly made me more and more emotionally unstable and socially awkward as the year progressed. It turns out that I had always been very socially awkward but didn't really know it until weed magnified it for me. Anyway, trying desperately to recreate and prolong the magic of when I first started smoking, I went to a psychiatrist to have my social anxiety and depression properly diagnosed.

21-26 - SSRI's. First Paxil, then Zoloft. Paxil made weed useless, but was by itself very seductive. It made me more confident and socially comfortable than I had ever been, a night and day difference. I was effortlessly way better at school, relaxed around girls, and able to drink every weekend without getting depressed. The narcissism returned, in fact, I had an even stronger tonic sense than ever that I was fucking ridiculously effing awesome, perhaps so much so that I didn't need to prove it at all. Also, it made me forget everything in life except what was going on right in front of me, so I didn't really care (or even know) that I had to date accomplished nothing.

Present time - boom. I am having to face the fact that I am not, in fact, fucking ridiculously awesome. No more zoloft. No success at all, in any area. Incredible discomfort interacting with people, rivaling weed times. Broadly just pathetic. I'm having to face the objective truth that the time within which I was supposed to achieve all of the things I expected for myself is inarguably over. I am not important. No success was owed me. No one should pay any extra attention to me. I am alone. And this wasn't made easier by a gentle lead in of slow realization because I've spent the last 5 years in an antidepressant haze, completely insulated from these kinds of thoughts. This really hurts. Of course, it's long overdue. But it still fucking hurts. I never really knew what real self loathing felt like. It's like every part of me is at war with every other part of me.

And of course, I can no longer interact with anyone, obviously. I get pretty nervous and desparate talking to most anyone except family, a couple friends, and Manisha. Whatever conversational confidence I did have was based on my ego insulation, so now I'm just totally lost. Unfortunately, this is one thing that meditation actually seems to be making worse for the time being. I think this has a few components: meditation makes one question the validity and truth of their own opinions so it becomes harder to speak about anything; it causes a higher level of awareness of perceptual stimuli, which is similar to states of anxiety, triggering some of those feelings; and it leads to experiences and thoughts that are dissimilar to those of people who don't meditate, causing even more alienation.
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Now for the silver lining, which is actually significant. First and foremost, I am more in touch with reality now, unquestionably a good thing. A better map leads to better navigation. And a life grounded in reality has the potential to be far more rewarding and meaningful than one in ego dreamland- it certainly was during "The Golden Age". Of course, I had some chemical help at that time, but at least such a possibility exists. Meditation is the only way I know of to experience bits and pieces of the golden life again, without the emotional ups and downs but the experience is quite muted in comparison and has the new requirements of patience, dilligence and work.

As for my social troubles, coming out of them in a way that's congruous with where the rest of my personality is going will mean a complete reversal of the way I have always related to others. I will no longer be able to try to impress people with wit, try to be charming, or try any of my other (admittedly very ineffective) myopically focused ploys for being liked. My greed for validation and lack of actual concern for others will have to disappear. What will replace this can only be (a gradual shift toward) me silently loving and caring for people no matter what they're like and with no concern for what they think of me. This reversal is starting to happen these days, just a very little bit, once in a while, and it is beautiful. If you've made it this far, thank you for reading this. Next time I see you, please give me a hug, and please forgive me if I seem nervous. Hopefully, it's only temporary.

Empathy

Though I have previously been very vocal about my desire to punch her in the stomach, my heart really goes out to Sandra Day O'Connor over this story. It sounds like a seriously fucked up and difficult cap to a bunch of already really bad years. Still though. Punch in the stomach.

what the hell is wrong with me

i feel so lonely. and wish that someone would call. but then when people call i don't know how to be so i just hurry them off the phone. life is really tough without my lady. oh well. i made my bed.

Moments That Render All My Meditation Moot...

...include this video on onegoodmove of a very graceful Janeane Garafolo being "interviewed" by some Fox News shitbag named Brian Kilmeade in the run up to the war. Does this asshole still have a job? I really hope not. I think at the very least, someone should crush his skull with a bowling ball. Maybe then, he'll finally shut the fuck up.