watching that Doctor Who episode "Turn Left" today, i contemplated destiny.
in the episode, a character's life is altered by one choice, by the simple decision to turn right instead of left, to be goaded into a safe lifestyle by her mother instead of believing in her luck and forcefulness to get her from uncertainty to where she wanted to be. because the show in question is of the science fiction genre, this It's A Wonderful Life plotline showed a dystopic diversion from what we the viewers know of the show, and in that one instant everything shifted. she stepped sideways; another realm took place of the one destined for her, and everything went to hell because of it. she never reached the stars, and so they plummeted without her to help hold them aloft.
“But all around the downpour of stars went on. And then the starless patch began to grow, spreading further and further out from the center of the sky…With a thrill of wonder (and there was some terror in it too) they all suddenly realized what was happening. The spreading blackness was not a cloud at all; it was simply emptiness. The black part of the sky was the part where there were no stars left. All the stars were falling."
- C.S. Lewis
someone once said that the idea of falling stars was a chilling one. "Overhead, without any fuss, the stars were going out." - Anthony C. Clark writers terrify with that thought, with the presentation of a celestial orb snuffed out. we fear this presumably because we always imagine them as beacons, cheering us up and guiding us home. guiding us to destiny.
but what happens when they fade out? we're not always watching for them; we spend our lives looking at our feet, carefully placing one in front of the other. so there is plenty of time for the stars to sneak away with our dreams when no one is paying attention. what destiny can manifest without the lamps to guide our feet toward the paths we must take?
worse still is the sinking of reality when one remembers that light takes oh so very long to travel, in a vacuum; by the time we're made aware of them, all our stars are long gone. all our dreams are dead. those guides are nothing but remnants of old ghosts.
so what of Destiny? as far as i know, i am certainly no fictional heroine. there is more chance that we on Earth will find a way to reverse global warming and the damages of pollution than that i shall voyage among the stars in a magnificent timeship piloted by a wonderful - yet terrible - and delightful man. i have little chance for anything fantastical in my life at all, let alone so much otherworldly adventure. what destiny is there, in this existence we know as reality? here, the celestial bodies are but residual glow from simple space gas, which itself has already burnt into Nothingness. so what of our hopeful guides can be found, when they have long since been absorbed into The Dark?
step sideways.
Saturday, November 8
Wednesday, October 22
a plea for us all to get our heads out of our asses
i have a bone to pick with the psychiatric industry. i will use Borderline Personality Disorder {BPD} as a primary vessel for my arguments, as well as refer to Alcoholism/Addiction, and probably mention a few other diagnosable ailments in passing. as always in this blog, i do not proclaim to have a degree in anything (yet) other than my own bullshit (in that, i have a PhD) and the research & deductive analysis involved in writing these articles are made on my own presumably limited resources.
this particular entry is not about complaining or declaring that i have a better way of doing things than the way my nation chooses to solve its problems now [1]. with these words, i put to (digital) paper what has been floating around in my mind for a few years; i aim to point out what i see as logical holes in our consideration of the mentally disenfranchised [2].
i read somewhere that BPD is often prescursed by emotional trauma, like abuse or something. and while my father was certainly a perfectionist, one to crap on my sense of self-worth if i made a blunder or spilled a drink or misacted in some way, i doubt that occasional belittlement - even by a figure central to one's childhood - would cause anything overtly psychologically dysfunctional in a person but a low sense of self-esteem [3].
i have, in light of noting that mental illness appears to claim a particular 'type' of person over all others, always wondered what exactly is it that - provided both subjects were raised in the same environment - inhibits one person's ability to maintain full control of ones mental faculties and reasoning centres, yet does nothing to anothers?
i recently read this one wikibook article thing that inspires me to dissect this into something more understandable to me (the following is an excerpt from the article/book/thing "Dialectical Behavioral Therapy/Borderline Personality Disorder/Bisocial Model" {http://en.wikibooks.org/wiki/Dialectical_Behavioral_Therapy/Borderline_Personality_Disorder/Biosocial_Model} and the empasis is mine):
BPD results from a biological predisposition to emotional dysregulation combined with certain dysfunctional (invalidating) environments which interact over time. The characteristics of BPD begin developing during childhood because the fundamental inability to regulate emotions is exacerbated by an invalidating environment. The vulnerable child fails to learn how to identify feelings or regulate emotional stimulation. She does not learn to trust her private experience as valid and real. BPD individuals fail to learn how to tolerate emotional distress.enetic-link-for-bipolar/2771.html} .
to tie this in with what i was originally rambling about: if it is true that some people relate to psychological disorders unusually because they are either predisposed to be vulnerable to that particular shade of illness (i.e. an inborn tendency toward addictive behaviors) or because they have a gene that hardwires their brains so that psychological dysfunction is - for them - normal (bipolar disorder, other mental illnesses associated with a person's biochemicals or neurons), then why is it that - as explains the article [5] i will quote after this sentence - most clinicians and doctors treat mental disorders as if they are indicative of a particular individual's personal failures, especially brain "software" illnesses like personality disorders? {http://news.thresholds.org/poc/view_doc.php?type=doc&id=11198&cn=4}
"Mood swings in the context of borderline personality disorder are thought of as 'software' problems brought on by changes in the patient's perception and appraisal of their social situation. This is in contrast to bipolar disorder patients whose mood swings are thought of as occurring due to brain chemistry problems (e.g., a 'hardware' problem)."
if i understand what i read correctly (and i like to think that i do) then when someone has a genetic defect that causes her brain to process its own chemical regulation incorrectly, which in turn causes her to undergo intense sessions of mania or depression, that's acceptable, and she should be comforted and assisted, but if someone has developed an inability to process and react to stimuli with the degree of reason deemed socially acceptable [6], causing her to undergo intense sessions of existence at varied emotional extremes, that is shameful and stigmatized. how does this make sense?
"A personality disorder is a very rigid pattern of inner experience and outward behavior. The pattern extends across most of the person’s interactions, continues for many years, and differs from the experiences and behaviors usually expected of people. The rigid traits of people with a personality disorder often result in unpleasant experiences, which may cause psychological pain and social or occupational difficulties. Personality disorders typically become recognizable in adolescence or early adulthood, although some start during childhood (APA, 1994).
circling around yet again, i iterate: how can we decide that the mentally ill - those who are truly afflicted, and not the "high-functioning"elite simply prone to breaking from societal norms when stressed - are responsible for their own foibles when we are increasingly being handed proof that there is something larger involved in the entire affair than just people behaving badly? this calls for research. and when i say "research" i do mean the gathering of properly explained and understood information from the subjects themselves, via ethnomediology {http://www.hewett.norfolk.sch.uk/CURRIC/soc/ethno/intro.htm} .
[1] i will not hesitate to say that i totally am the most fantastic and capable person ever and should undoubtedly be elected Ruler Of The Universe, however
[2] how's that for a politically doublespoken euphemism?
[3] which isn't really a symptom of dysfunction in itself so much as a burden born upon anyone who has ever been made to feel as if her best effort achieved less than what it should have been able to, regardless of whether or not she could have actually achieved more than she did. nevertheless: digression
[4] not to say that the individual is damaged from birth, though i suppose the theory is that the brain is, which is why i don't know how else i would explain away how scientists have made the connection
[5] written by two people with the letters "PhD" after their names, by the way. here's hoping that's indicative of a doctorate degree in psychology, as opposed to my dad's master's degree in engineering.
[6] or, in some cases, simply with the only reaction that has been deemed acceptable in those circumstances.
[7] that sort of image was what 44% of the people i surveyed thought of when i mentioned Autism. classy.
[8] but that is a rant about the foolishness of touting some so-called social norm and shunning anyone who might possibly deviate from it as eeeevil or hopelessly deranged, and therefore quite off-topic, as is my anger about the public's attempt to "cure" Autism, the way they wanted to erradicate left-handedness and any form of sexual expression that wouldn't fit in the 1950s vanilla lifestyle of rich, white, and oppressive.
and yes, i say that as a middle-class white girl barely hurtling over 20 years of life, with virtually no experience outside of my parents' income bracket, not including my intellectual and emotional ennui or that week i spent homeless.
this particular entry is not about complaining or declaring that i have a better way of doing things than the way my nation chooses to solve its problems now [1]. with these words, i put to (digital) paper what has been floating around in my mind for a few years; i aim to point out what i see as logical holes in our consideration of the mentally disenfranchised [2].
****
i read somewhere that BPD is often prescursed by emotional trauma, like abuse or something. and while my father was certainly a perfectionist, one to crap on my sense of self-worth if i made a blunder or spilled a drink or misacted in some way, i doubt that occasional belittlement - even by a figure central to one's childhood - would cause anything overtly psychologically dysfunctional in a person but a low sense of self-esteem [3].
i have, in light of noting that mental illness appears to claim a particular 'type' of person over all others, always wondered what exactly is it that - provided both subjects were raised in the same environment - inhibits one person's ability to maintain full control of ones mental faculties and reasoning centres, yet does nothing to anothers?
i recently read this one wikibook article thing that inspires me to dissect this into something more understandable to me (the following is an excerpt from the article/book/thing "Dialectical Behavioral Therapy/Borderline Personality Disorder/Bisocial Model" {http://en.wikibooks.org/wiki/Dialectica
BPD results from a biological predisposition to emotional dysregulation combined with certain dysfunctional (invalidating) environments which interact over time. The characteristics of BPD begin developing during childhood because the fundamental inability to regulate emotions is exacerbated by an invalidating environment. The vulnerable child fails to learn how to identify feelings or regulate emotional stimulation. She does not learn to trust her private experience as valid and real. BPD individuals fail to learn how to tolerate emotional distress.
As adults, BPD individuals adopt the characteristics of the invalidating environment in which they grow up. Looking to others for accurate reflections of reality and oversimplifying the ease of solving life’s problems characterize this self-invalidation.
Oversimplification of life’s difficulties leads to unrealistic goals. Those with BPD tend to have an inability to use reward instead of punishment for small steps toward final goals. When they fail to achieve these goals they are filled with self-hate.
part of the reason i believe that certain psychological disorders are in actuality psychochemobiological or neuropsychological or whatever the proper term for it would be, is because of phrases like "high-functioning" and "low-functioning" and the idea of a "disease" that has a "cure" vs. an "illness" that is "managed." when i say bring up such phrases, i don't mean the colloquial (and often incorrect) usage of the terms, but the defined codes under which they are applied in professional circles; sometimes people with mental illness get better - for ever - and sometimes they don't get anything but control, cleverly disguised as a heavensent cure - until the next time they end up in inpatient services, and are made to feel as though they have brought their circumstances upon themselves.
i keep coming back to that question: what separates the "crazies" from the "disaffected?" what is it that causes the formulation of conditions like BPD, where a person's entire worldview - even the reasoning she uses to sort out appropriate responses to stimuli - is shaped by the disorder, and why that mysterious Whatever sows severe illness in one person, but minor neuroses in another?
i can only imagine that there is a factor inherent in the individual's biochemistry that - at best - increases the risk of something going sideways in the person's psychological development. there have already been statements tossed around about "predisposition" to Alcoholism or Addiction, {http://neuroscientificallychallenged.bl
to tie this in with what i was originally rambling about: if it is true that some people relate to psychological disorders unusually because they are either predisposed to be vulnerable to that particular shade of illness (i.e. an inborn tendency toward addictive behaviors) or because they have a gene that hardwires their brains so that psychological dysfunction is - for them - normal (bipolar disorder, other mental illnesses associated with a person's biochemicals or neurons), then why is it that - as explains the article [5] i will quote after this sentence - most clinicians and doctors treat mental disorders as if they are indicative of a particular individual's personal failures, especially brain "software" illnesses like personality disorders? {http://news.thresholds.org/poc/view_doc.p
"Mood swings in the context of borderline personality disorder are thought of as 'software' problems brought on by changes in the patient's perception and appraisal of their social situation. This is in contrast to bipolar disorder patients whose mood swings are thought of as occurring due to brain chemistry problems (e.g., a 'hardware' problem)."
if i understand what i read correctly (and i like to think that i do) then when someone has a genetic defect that causes her brain to process its own chemical regulation incorrectly, which in turn causes her to undergo intense sessions of mania or depression, that's acceptable, and she should be comforted and assisted, but if someone has developed an inability to process and react to stimuli with the degree of reason deemed socially acceptable [6], causing her to undergo intense sessions of existence at varied emotional extremes, that is shameful and stigmatized. how does this make sense?
"A personality disorder is a very rigid pattern of inner experience and outward behavior. The pattern extends across most of the person’s interactions, continues for many years, and differs from the experiences and behaviors usually expected of people. The rigid traits of people with a personality disorder often result in unpleasant experiences, which may cause psychological pain and social or occupational difficulties. Personality disorders typically become recognizable in adolescence or early adulthood, although some start during childhood (APA, 1994).
Personality disorders may disrupt many aspects of a person’s life and may also bring pain to others. They are among the most difficult psychological disorders to treat. Many sufferers are not even aware of their personality problems, and they fail to trace their difficulties to their rigid style of thinking and behaving. It has been estimated that between 4 and 15 percent of all adults may have a personality disorder (Link, 1997; APA, 1994)."
so declares the wikibooks article titled "A Textbook On Recovery Psychology/Unit 2/Ch3Personality Disorders," {http://en.wikibooks.org/wiki/A_Textbook
one could contrast this historic refusal to understand (or even to seek out, in some instances) the underlying causes in the development of a personality disorder to the worldwide race to "cure" Autistic people of their natural brain biochemistry. explains the fact sheet at autism-help.org (empasis always my own):
"A genetic basis for autism has definitely been established and at this stage it appears that multiple genes may be responsible. There is currently no genetic test that can be done to detect autism.
There is much much research and discussion on possible environmental causes that could affect brain development, and many researchers believe that the causes of Autism Spectrum Disorders will prove to be an interplay of genes and environmental causes. It is theorized that these multiple “causes” interact with each other in subtle and complex ways, and would thus explain the wide range of differing outcomes and behaviors in each individual. ... Another non-medical view is that there is no one condition called autism. This view was put forward by autistic author Donna Williams. She presents a holistic model called autism as a fruit salad model and demonstrated how the severity of someone's autism could be linked to their degree of co-morbid communication, sensory-perceptual, gut/immune, neurological integration, mood, anxiety and compulsive disorders a person inherited or developed, coupled with cognitive and learning style differences and unusual personality trait collections"
until hollywood endorsed Autism, it was considered similar to retardation, and is still linked to Dennis Hoffman and to little kids screaming and bashing their heads into walls, as a survey of my own conduction discovered [7]. few other mental disorders could be so lucky as to have the muddled alliegence of a community on the outside of the Autistic one, clamoring to be let in so those well-meaning but ignorant outsiders can "cure" the Aspies (nickname the Autistic Spectrum community has cheerfully foisted upon its members with Asperger's Syndrome). and yes, that is fortune: most of the mentally ill are shuffled off to asylums or thrown in hospitals until they agree to be corralled into 'proper' modes of behaviour [8].circling around yet again, i iterate: how can we decide that the mentally ill - those who are truly afflicted, and not the "high-functioning"elite simply prone to breaking from societal norms when stressed - are responsible for their own foibles when we are increasingly being handed proof that there is something larger involved in the entire affair than just people behaving badly? this calls for research. and when i say "research" i do mean the gathering of properly explained and understood information from the subjects themselves, via ethnomediology {http://www.hewett.norfolk.sch.uk/CURRIC/s
[1] i will not hesitate to say that i totally am the most fantastic and capable person ever and should undoubtedly be elected Ruler Of The Universe, however
[2] how's that for a politically doublespoken euphemism?
[3] which isn't really a symptom of dysfunction in itself so much as a burden born upon anyone who has ever been made to feel as if her best effort achieved less than what it should have been able to, regardless of whether or not she could have actually achieved more than she did. nevertheless: digression
[4] not to say that the individual is damaged from birth, though i suppose the theory is that the brain is, which is why i don't know how else i would explain away how scientists have made the connection
[5] written by two people with the letters "PhD" after their names, by the way. here's hoping that's indicative of a doctorate degree in psychology, as opposed to my dad's master's degree in engineering.
[6] or, in some cases, simply with the only reaction that has been deemed acceptable in those circumstances.
[7] that sort of image was what 44% of the people i surveyed thought of when i mentioned Autism. classy.
[8] but that is a rant about the foolishness of touting some so-called social norm and shunning anyone who might possibly deviate from it as eeeevil or hopelessly deranged, and therefore quite off-topic, as is my anger about the public's attempt to "cure" Autism, the way they wanted to erradicate left-handedness and any form of sexual expression that wouldn't fit in the 1950s vanilla lifestyle of rich, white, and oppressive.
and yes, i say that as a middle-class white girl barely hurtling over 20 years of life, with virtually no experience outside of my parents' income bracket, not including my intellectual and emotional ennui or that week i spent homeless.
Sunday, October 12
the history books forgot about us [didn't mention us, not even once]
i have mentioned that i hate romantic comedies.
i hate that they put the characters through the wringer and then refuse to explore the psychological implications of anything that just happened
i hate that they assume a flowery monologue and a backdrop of earnest pop song and dizzying cinematography will cure all ills
i hate they they create a person to act as romantic foil, then crumple her/him up and toss her/him aside and don't even have the decency to pretend that they aren't brutally sacrificing her/him to the alter of Twu Lwuv.
i hate they they teach society that it's morally acceptable - even perfectly reasonable - to wrap yourself around someone who loves you just so you aren't stuck in a room with yourself, realizing what a complete shitbag you are, will you wait for the one you really want to have an epiphany wherein it becomes clear that s/he is really choosing between a life of looking at oneself in the mirror, of listening for life and hearing only oneself, and letting another person's babbling baggage distract her/himself from her/his own self-loathing.
and yes, that really is what i see when confronted with hollywood's answer to the need for human connection; a society reared to manipulate other people into giving them value.
i think that's partly why i believe in God.
which, yes, is a strange segue, but the thoughts follow each other fluidly; my goal is Jesus, and the path i walk to Him is Buddhism (the philosophical kind, not the religious belly-rubbing one). regardless of whether or not there is a god, or anything after this life at all, in Jesus, i have a sort of guarantee that someone gives a shit. that i do matter, even if it's only to Him, even if i don't do anything to make history remember me at all, there's the idea that someone out there sees me and feels for me and aches when i cry.
so even if there is nothing out there, i can take comfort in imagining this individual watching my life and throwing Vengeful Popcorn Of Smite at the screen when things don't go my way, even if if takes a while for the instrument of my defense to snowball into the properly devastating effect that i would desire.
and if all i really have after i die is a wood box lined with linen, at least i will be well-versed in pretending that i am significant to someone.
i hate that they put the characters through the wringer and then refuse to explore the psychological implications of anything that just happened
i hate that they assume a flowery monologue and a backdrop of earnest pop song and dizzying cinematography will cure all ills
i hate they they create a person to act as romantic foil, then crumple her/him up and toss her/him aside and don't even have the decency to pretend that they aren't brutally sacrificing her/him to the alter of Twu Lwuv.
i hate they they teach society that it's morally acceptable - even perfectly reasonable - to wrap yourself around someone who loves you just so you aren't stuck in a room with yourself, realizing what a complete shitbag you are, will you wait for the one you really want to have an epiphany wherein it becomes clear that s/he is really choosing between a life of looking at oneself in the mirror, of listening for life and hearing only oneself, and letting another person's babbling baggage distract her/himself from her/his own self-loathing.
and yes, that really is what i see when confronted with hollywood's answer to the need for human connection; a society reared to manipulate other people into giving them value.
i think that's partly why i believe in God.
which, yes, is a strange segue, but the thoughts follow each other fluidly; my goal is Jesus, and the path i walk to Him is Buddhism (the philosophical kind, not the religious belly-rubbing one). regardless of whether or not there is a god, or anything after this life at all, in Jesus, i have a sort of guarantee that someone gives a shit. that i do matter, even if it's only to Him, even if i don't do anything to make history remember me at all, there's the idea that someone out there sees me and feels for me and aches when i cry.
so even if there is nothing out there, i can take comfort in imagining this individual watching my life and throwing Vengeful Popcorn Of Smite at the screen when things don't go my way, even if if takes a while for the instrument of my defense to snowball into the properly devastating effect that i would desire.
and if all i really have after i die is a wood box lined with linen, at least i will be well-versed in pretending that i am significant to someone.
Thursday, October 2
all that you have of home
if you could take a potion to erase your most desperate fixation on whatever most obsessive addiction, would you?
i don't mean vicodin or alcohol, no heroin junkie stories tonight; i refer to chemical dependence. the University Of Virginia Health System Website declares that chemical dependence is a term "used to describe the compulsive use of chemicals (drugs or alcohol) and the inability to stop using them despite all the problems caused by their use. used to describe the compulsive use of chemicals (drugs or alcohol) and the inability to stop using them despite all the problems caused by their use." in that context, the question i pose may be moot, because the whole point of the term is that one literally cannot find it within oneself to unlock the shackles that bind them to the substance that haunts one.
what i propose, however, is a psychological question: if those shackles fell off, if one could with a word remove that mental block that made it impossible to even dream of a life outside one's dependency, would one suddenly find oneself equpped with all the weapons needed to stage a revolt, and sieze back control of one's life? would all things immediately seem brighter, more vibrant, more focused, and no obstacle too fantastic to sidestep? or would one shrink back into the fold of that addiction, seeking its familiarity, its double-bladed protection and whimsical promises?
what is it that would be stripped away, assuming only one thing is the major force exerting its pull upon a person; how would the other factors of one's livelihood and temperment pick up the slack of the newly vanished? is there but a sole component buried in the entanglement of yearning and desperation, the merger between reckless extravagence and self-made prophecies of worthlessness?
could a formula be concocted to errode that which ties one most suffocatingly to one's acursed weakness? for how long would it work, and in what manner; would a person have to direct the flow of the cleansing liquid, like a guru guiding a soul through the unblocking of wretched chakras?
would it matter? would the thing that plagues deepest be conscious, a compulsion, not a circumstance; a choice? it is said that chemical dependence is the worst form of addiction, because the psychological need is near indistinguishable from the physical. what if one could flood clean all traces of the latter, obliterate the rembrance of peace coming from relieved muscles, but the taste of necessity still lingered, glutinous and firm as plaque?
what if, in the end, one would glance between the steep, shadowed ridge to rigoured recovery and the smooth silver slide back to old standbys, and flee to find solace in the ever-familar ghost of cold nails scarring skin and synapses?
the answer may just be that one Occam could never gleen, for its sheer obviousness; one's addiction is to submit, to sink one's soul into the chemical embrace with all due abandon. all is hopeless when that erstwhile paramour's love was never the strived-for goal, but simple scenery on the path to oblivion.
i don't mean vicodin or alcohol, no heroin junkie stories tonight; i refer to chemical dependence. the University Of Virginia Health System Website declares that chemical dependence is a term "used to describe the compulsive use of chemicals (drugs or alcohol) and the inability to stop using them despite all the problems caused by their use. used to describe the compulsive use of chemicals (drugs or alcohol) and the inability to stop using them despite all the problems caused by their use." in that context, the question i pose may be moot, because the whole point of the term is that one literally cannot find it within oneself to unlock the shackles that bind them to the substance that haunts one.
what i propose, however, is a psychological question: if those shackles fell off, if one could with a word remove that mental block that made it impossible to even dream of a life outside one's dependency, would one suddenly find oneself equpped with all the weapons needed to stage a revolt, and sieze back control of one's life? would all things immediately seem brighter, more vibrant, more focused, and no obstacle too fantastic to sidestep? or would one shrink back into the fold of that addiction, seeking its familiarity, its double-bladed protection and whimsical promises?
what is it that would be stripped away, assuming only one thing is the major force exerting its pull upon a person; how would the other factors of one's livelihood and temperment pick up the slack of the newly vanished? is there but a sole component buried in the entanglement of yearning and desperation, the merger between reckless extravagence and self-made prophecies of worthlessness?
could a formula be concocted to errode that which ties one most suffocatingly to one's acursed weakness? for how long would it work, and in what manner; would a person have to direct the flow of the cleansing liquid, like a guru guiding a soul through the unblocking of wretched chakras?
would it matter? would the thing that plagues deepest be conscious, a compulsion, not a circumstance; a choice? it is said that chemical dependence is the worst form of addiction, because the psychological need is near indistinguishable from the physical. what if one could flood clean all traces of the latter, obliterate the rembrance of peace coming from relieved muscles, but the taste of necessity still lingered, glutinous and firm as plaque?
what if, in the end, one would glance between the steep, shadowed ridge to rigoured recovery and the smooth silver slide back to old standbys, and flee to find solace in the ever-familar ghost of cold nails scarring skin and synapses?
the answer may just be that one Occam could never gleen, for its sheer obviousness; one's addiction is to submit, to sink one's soul into the chemical embrace with all due abandon. all is hopeless when that erstwhile paramour's love was never the strived-for goal, but simple scenery on the path to oblivion.
Sunday, September 7
word association meme
from AMA.
what images come to mind when one mentions vicious?
...strong?
...weak?
...beautiful?
...pain?
...sex?
...wrong?
...right?
...politics?
...religion?
here are mine:
vicious
strong
weak
beautiful (i couldn't pick just one)
pain
sex
wrong
right
politics
religion
what images come to mind when one mentions vicious?
...strong?
...weak?
...beautiful?
...pain?
...sex?
...wrong?
...right?
...politics?
...religion?
here are mine:
vicious
strong
weak
beautiful (i couldn't pick just one)
pain
sex
wrong
right
politics
religion
Thursday, August 21
the economics of society
i fancy myself Socrates tonight, so this post shall in part take on dialogue form, though not with the same teaching methods as he employed.
for our first segment; the initial conversation:
mon amie (2:28:06 AM): are you looking forward to going back?
self (2:30:56 AM): sort of
self (2:31:00 AM): i have people i miss
self (2:31:24 AM): but i don't really attach to physical things. Buddhist, after all.
self (2:31:33 AM): life goes on, whereever you are.
self (2:31:48 AM): do you really feel unattached to people?
mon amie (2:32:04 AM): (people as an example?)
self (2:38:14 AM): ...i feel like i have to work myself to exhaustion to incline other people to attach to me.
self (2:38:25 AM): and even then it doesn't always take.
mon amie (2:40:25 AM): wow.
mon amie (2:40:31 AM): my computer is so LAME.
mon amie (2:40:40 AM): i didn't even see your i/m's and now i feel bad.
mon amie (2:40:58 AM): do you feel like you always need to keep in touch and other just don't reciprocate? i get that, really.
self (2:41:53 AM): mhmm.
self (2:42:42 AM): it's more than that, even when first becoming acquainted with someone, i can't turn the person into a friend, unless he or she pursues me.
self (2:43:16 AM): i don't know how, or what's so disenchanting about me, but i am just not someone with whom other people want to associate.
self (2:43:28 AM): unless i have something outside myself to trade.
mon amie (2:43:40 AM): do you think of that of me?
mon amie (2:43:44 AM): wait:
self (2:43:52 AM): so they stay mere acquaintences, because i have nothing of myself to offer that would endear me to them.
mon amie (2:43:49 AM): do you think about that from me?
mon amie (2:44:01 AM): i feel like i can't word that right...
self (2:44:57 AM): i think i understand what you mean...
self (2:45:02 AM): let me explain myself.
the second, the pontification:
self (2:45:32 AM): my view of human interaction is that it's all based on a system of trade. stop me if you've heard this particular rant before...
mon amie (2:45:21 AM): go on.
self (2:47:25 AM): there are levels of association. Acquaintenship: when one meets another, and finds that person has frequent fun parties, or access to movie tickets, or something entirely impersonal, and it's just an informal trade of goods.
mon amie (2:47:02 AM): well put.
self (2:48:25 AM): i knew a guy, i would always get gasoline at his store, and pay in cash. i became recognized by him, and we would engage in hellos and howareyous. that's the Base Acquaintence.
mon amie (2:47:55 AM): i had that, too!
self (2:48:41 AM):
self (2:48:46 AM): see? truth.
self (2:48:49 AM): anyway.
self (2:50:41 AM): the other kind of Acquaintence is when the exchange is of services. someone shares your love of Lost, etc. it's still impersonal enough for the service to be interchangeable; you can get that fandom feeling from all sorts of other people, but this person happens to be closest.
mon amie (2:50:26 AM): what happens to be closest?
mon amie (2:50:31 AM): the tandom feeling?
mon amie (2:50:42 AM): fandom*
self (2:51:49 AM): the person.
self (2:52:19 AM): for example, say you met someone in one of your classes who likes Lost, and you chat about it sometimes.
mon amie (2:51:51 AM): ahh, gotcha.
self (2:52:54 AM): it never occurs outside of those first few minutes of class, and you could chat about Lost with anyone, but she's readily available
self (2:52:56 AM): mhmm
mon amie (2:52:48 AM): yes, i had those quite frequently.
self (2:54:15 AM): of course, those are the most common sorts of interaction.
self (2:54:46 AM): we have venders who sell us our groceries and our gas, and technology has recently put a barrier between we and them.
self (2:55:09 AM): so our forms of interaction come mostly in what cannot be dupilcated (yet) by machines.
mon amie (2:55:35 AM): what do you mean by duplicated?
self (2:57:05 AM): ...synthesized?
self (2:57:25 AM): instead of human to human contact, the internet itself speaking to us?
self (2:57:46 AM): as opposed to the individuality no one has yet been able to replicate in robots.
self (2:57:52 AM): sorry if i get scifi.
mon amie (2:57:39 AM): robots not being able to feel, etc.?
self (2:58:27 AM): mhmm
self (2:58:37 AM): or come up with entirely original respones.
self (2:58:41 AM): responses*
self (2:58:45 AM): they cannot improvise.
self (2:58:52 AM): nor opinionate.
mon amie (2:59:22 AM): and by having non human interaction, we are just leading to more seclusion amongst each other typething?
self (3:04:16 AM): i believe so.
self (3:04:28 AM): that is another ramble, however.
[from there, our conversation derailed, so we shall leave it where it was]
et en fin, the lecture:
as there are Acquaintences, concerned with those goods and services provided externally and impersonally, there are also Friends, whose interest is determined by what a person sells of him/herself.
again, as with Acquaintences, this grouping can be split into two categories, the Status Quo Friend (SQF) and the True Friend. the former is thrown into a relationship with another person by circumstance. one could enjoy another's sense of humor, or feel capable of conversing for hours on any subject, and thereby create a sense of kinship with that person. not only is made an exchange of, perhaps, laughter, but also of the possession most widely prized by mortals: time. the commodity then, is internal, for the good provided is something unique to the vendor. however, though a bond is formed, it can be severed at a moment's notice, with a whithering word or a distasteful deed.
that brings us to the final level of social interaction: True Friends (TF) [it is so-named only because i could not formulate a less clichéd term for it in the little time i alloted for this post].
the final level is categorized when bits of self are included amongst the goods traded. energy, empathy, and
experience are the most commonly offered services, initially. eventually, however, so much is constantly whirring back and forth that the involved parties simply set aside aspects of themselves for the sole use of one another. only amusing anecdotes are traded with a SQF, but every experience is detailed for the benefit of a TF.
further, a branch of the TF category applies to those labelled as Significant Others; persons are given such a title when the aspects reserved for them encompasse the entirety of another.
therefore:
that is why, some people attach easily to others, and create an assembly of aloof admirers, while others have a cadre of close companions. just as in the real world market, people are an assortment of traits and tradeable services; depending on who's looking, and for what, each individual's worth can be reduced to the state of his/her inventory.
for our first segment; the initial conversation:
mon amie (2:28:06 AM): are you looking forward to going back?
self (2:30:56 AM): sort of
self (2:31:00 AM): i have people i miss
self (2:31:24 AM): but i don't really attach to physical things. Buddhist, after all.
self (2:31:33 AM): life goes on, whereever you are.
self (2:31:48 AM): do you really feel unattached to people?
mon amie (2:32:04 AM): (people as an example?)
self (2:38:14 AM): ...i feel like i have to work myself to exhaustion to incline other people to attach to me.
self (2:38:25 AM): and even then it doesn't always take.
mon amie (2:40:25 AM): wow.
mon amie (2:40:31 AM): my computer is so LAME.
mon amie (2:40:40 AM): i didn't even see your i/m's and now i feel bad.
mon amie (2:40:58 AM): do you feel like you always need to keep in touch and other just don't reciprocate? i get that, really.
self (2:41:53 AM): mhmm.
self (2:42:42 AM): it's more than that, even when first becoming acquainted with someone, i can't turn the person into a friend, unless he or she pursues me.
self (2:43:16 AM): i don't know how, or what's so disenchanting about me, but i am just not someone with whom other people want to associate.
self (2:43:28 AM): unless i have something outside myself to trade.
mon amie (2:43:40 AM): do you think of that of me?
mon amie (2:43:44 AM): wait:
self (2:43:52 AM): so they stay mere acquaintences, because i have nothing of myself to offer that would endear me to them.
mon amie (2:43:49 AM): do you think about that from me?
mon amie (2:44:01 AM): i feel like i can't word that right...
self (2:44:57 AM): i think i understand what you mean...
self (2:45:02 AM): let me explain myself.
the second, the pontification:
self (2:45:32 AM): my view of human interaction is that it's all based on a system of trade. stop me if you've heard this particular rant before...
mon amie (2:45:21 AM): go on.
self (2:47:25 AM): there are levels of association. Acquaintenship: when one meets another, and finds that person has frequent fun parties, or access to movie tickets, or something entirely impersonal, and it's just an informal trade of goods.
mon amie (2:47:02 AM): well put.
self (2:48:25 AM): i knew a guy, i would always get gasoline at his store, and pay in cash. i became recognized by him, and we would engage in hellos and howareyous. that's the Base Acquaintence.
mon amie (2:47:55 AM): i had that, too!
self (2:48:41 AM):
self (2:48:46 AM): see? truth.
self (2:48:49 AM): anyway.
self (2:50:41 AM): the other kind of Acquaintence is when the exchange is of services. someone shares your love of Lost, etc. it's still impersonal enough for the service to be interchangeable; you can get that fandom feeling from all sorts of other people, but this person happens to be closest.
mon amie (2:50:26 AM): what happens to be closest?
mon amie (2:50:31 AM): the tandom feeling?
mon amie (2:50:42 AM): fandom*
self (2:51:49 AM): the person.
self (2:52:19 AM): for example, say you met someone in one of your classes who likes Lost, and you chat about it sometimes.
mon amie (2:51:51 AM): ahh, gotcha.
self (2:52:54 AM): it never occurs outside of those first few minutes of class, and you could chat about Lost with anyone, but she's readily available
self (2:52:56 AM): mhmm
mon amie (2:52:48 AM): yes, i had those quite frequently.
self (2:54:15 AM): of course, those are the most common sorts of interaction.
self (2:54:46 AM): we have venders who sell us our groceries and our gas, and technology has recently put a barrier between we and them.
self (2:55:09 AM): so our forms of interaction come mostly in what cannot be dupilcated (yet) by machines.
mon amie (2:55:35 AM): what do you mean by duplicated?
self (2:57:05 AM): ...synthesized?
self (2:57:25 AM): instead of human to human contact, the internet itself speaking to us?
self (2:57:46 AM): as opposed to the individuality no one has yet been able to replicate in robots.
self (2:57:52 AM): sorry if i get scifi.
mon amie (2:57:39 AM): robots not being able to feel, etc.?
self (2:58:27 AM): mhmm
self (2:58:37 AM): or come up with entirely original respones.
self (2:58:41 AM): responses*
self (2:58:45 AM): they cannot improvise.
self (2:58:52 AM): nor opinionate.
mon amie (2:59:22 AM): and by having non human interaction, we are just leading to more seclusion amongst each other typething?
self (3:04:16 AM): i believe so.
self (3:04:28 AM): that is another ramble, however.
[from there, our conversation derailed, so we shall leave it where it was]
et en fin, the lecture:
as there are Acquaintences, concerned with those goods and services provided externally and impersonally, there are also Friends, whose interest is determined by what a person sells of him/herself.
again, as with Acquaintences, this grouping can be split into two categories, the Status Quo Friend (SQF) and the True Friend. the former is thrown into a relationship with another person by circumstance. one could enjoy another's sense of humor, or feel capable of conversing for hours on any subject, and thereby create a sense of kinship with that person. not only is made an exchange of, perhaps, laughter, but also of the possession most widely prized by mortals: time. the commodity then, is internal, for the good provided is something unique to the vendor. however, though a bond is formed, it can be severed at a moment's notice, with a whithering word or a distasteful deed.
that brings us to the final level of social interaction: True Friends (TF) [it is so-named only because i could not formulate a less clichéd term for it in the little time i alloted for this post].
the final level is categorized when bits of self are included amongst the goods traded. energy, empathy, and
experience are the most commonly offered services, initially. eventually, however, so much is constantly whirring back and forth that the involved parties simply set aside aspects of themselves for the sole use of one another. only amusing anecdotes are traded with a SQF, but every experience is detailed for the benefit of a TF.
further, a branch of the TF category applies to those labelled as Significant Others; persons are given such a title when the aspects reserved for them encompasse the entirety of another.
therefore:
that is why, some people attach easily to others, and create an assembly of aloof admirers, while others have a cadre of close companions. just as in the real world market, people are an assortment of traits and tradeable services; depending on who's looking, and for what, each individual's worth can be reduced to the state of his/her inventory.
Monday, August 18
"Disturbia," or "An Account Of An Epic Battle Between Man And Nature"
last night, i went to a hookah bar.
not alone, naturally; some friends had bought two hookahs and were passing the hoses around. one actually paid me a dollar to get me to drive out there and join them. :-) drole and unfulfilling as the tobacco has always been, i puffed it down dispassionately and saved my greed for inhaling the pleasure of their company. soon i was lazily soaring amongst the exhaled vapors that spiraled beyond the black of the midnight sky.
until surprised shouts and the splatter of water on pavement attracted my attention.
someone had found a frog relaxing on a cobblestone, possibly enjoying secondhand smoke. the discoverer of said amphibian, in his determination to display his dominance over nature, had been the source of that kerfluffle that distracted we smokers from our socializing.
now, here was a man in his mid-thirties, who had apparently grown weary of the leftist propaganda which declares that we of the species homo sapiens have a derelict duty to defend and even doctor our animalian brethren of earth. from his actions, i deduced that he had long ago uncovered the terrible treachery of our conservationist-leaning citizens - they were spies. they sought to rid Earth of men and their straight-laced family values by discouraging admittedly random but entirely couth acts of discrimination and violence, and replace the good denizens of America with stepfordian hippie robots! this intrepid soldier of humanity about whom i tell these tales immediately rejected the brainwashing of PETA and declared himself a vigilante against all bestial usurpers of Man's Worldly Throne, and that included preventing the hookah-loving frog from undermining mankind by infiltrating America's youth!
i deduced this, because only such a backstory as epic and obviously heroic as that could explain what he did next.
unsheathing water from the plastic bottle-shaped container in which he carried it (by way of cap-twistation) this Knight Of Man reacted to that slimy sight with battle-honed reflexes; he took his flask in his mighty fist, raising it above his shoulder, and tilted it a sweeping 180 degrees! as God had flooded the world to rid it of people-vermin, so our fantastical protagonist flooded the sidewalk.
the frog jolted under the assault, twitching this way and that. our hero was ever-cunning, however, and shook his canteen, in a long, decided motion, and the water scattered on the ground like machine-gun artillery. the frog, that vile, pestilent purveyor of doom, was instantly surrounded. it slipped, crashing sideways into the jagged cement, flailed desperately for a few moments, then was engulfed by the rising tide. peace was once again restored to the universe, and the relieved chatter of satisfied youth drowned out the final keening of that amphibious anathama.
not alone, naturally; some friends had bought two hookahs and were passing the hoses around. one actually paid me a dollar to get me to drive out there and join them. :-) drole and unfulfilling as the tobacco has always been, i puffed it down dispassionately and saved my greed for inhaling the pleasure of their company. soon i was lazily soaring amongst the exhaled vapors that spiraled beyond the black of the midnight sky.
until surprised shouts and the splatter of water on pavement attracted my attention.
someone had found a frog relaxing on a cobblestone, possibly enjoying secondhand smoke. the discoverer of said amphibian, in his determination to display his dominance over nature, had been the source of that kerfluffle that distracted we smokers from our socializing.
now, here was a man in his mid-thirties, who had apparently grown weary of the leftist propaganda which declares that we of the species homo sapiens have a derelict duty to defend and even doctor our animalian brethren of earth. from his actions, i deduced that he had long ago uncovered the terrible treachery of our conservationist-leaning citizens - they were spies. they sought to rid Earth of men and their straight-laced family values by discouraging admittedly random but entirely couth acts of discrimination and violence, and replace the good denizens of America with stepfordian hippie robots! this intrepid soldier of humanity about whom i tell these tales immediately rejected the brainwashing of PETA and declared himself a vigilante against all bestial usurpers of Man's Worldly Throne, and that included preventing the hookah-loving frog from undermining mankind by infiltrating America's youth!
i deduced this, because only such a backstory as epic and obviously heroic as that could explain what he did next.
unsheathing water from the plastic bottle-shaped container in which he carried it (by way of cap-twistation) this Knight Of Man reacted to that slimy sight with battle-honed reflexes; he took his flask in his mighty fist, raising it above his shoulder, and tilted it a sweeping 180 degrees! as God had flooded the world to rid it of people-vermin, so our fantastical protagonist flooded the sidewalk.
the frog jolted under the assault, twitching this way and that. our hero was ever-cunning, however, and shook his canteen, in a long, decided motion, and the water scattered on the ground like machine-gun artillery. the frog, that vile, pestilent purveyor of doom, was instantly surrounded. it slipped, crashing sideways into the jagged cement, flailed desperately for a few moments, then was engulfed by the rising tide. peace was once again restored to the universe, and the relieved chatter of satisfied youth drowned out the final keening of that amphibious anathama.
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