Thursday, July 29, 2010
2001st post
Actually, it's not just the Internet. It's everything. I feel like someone in a theater watching a really mediocre play, and it's only politeness that keeps me from getting up and walking out.
Too much Internet
One of my Facebook friends (actually more of an acquaintance) has decided to give it up. I certainly respect her decision. I've found some useful information on Facebook, and I've been able to reconnect with a lot of long-lost friends, classmates and coworkers. But Facebook can also be a huge timesink. Time isn't a big problem for me at this stage of my life, but I can see where other, busier people would find Facebook an annoying habit that intrudes on their other activities.
My personal problem with Facebook isn't the time I spend with it, but the general pointlessness of what I read, and, frankly, what I post. I've picked up some gems of wisdom, but they've been few and far between. I quit visiting my regular coffee shop in part because I found myself trapped between two or three simultaneous conversations about things that didn't interest me. Facebook produces a similar effect: a lot of what strikes me as conversational noise.
Actually, the whole Internet is starting to wear me down. As you know if you've been reading this blog awhile, I don't own a TV. I can't stand the barrage of commercials, nor the hyperkinetic animations and visuals that seem to be always running, even popping up over programming. I hate the hours of 'information' programming in which the same two dozen pundits and spokespeople yell over each other.
That's television, but the Internet is starting to be the same way. I'm tired of visiting web sites where there are three animated advertisements running at the same time — and they're all for the same thing. I'm tired of the increasingly shrill political bloggers whose alarmist headlines lead to nothing more than a snarky critique of something some other shrill blogger wrote — which may be nothing more than a slam of a third blogger. I'm tired of 'news' about celebrities I've never heard of.
I make my daily round of my regular websites, which include The Huffington Post, Firedoglake, Crooks and Liars, Eschatonblog, Hullaballoo, io9, Slashfilm, Gawker and macsurfer, and after I'm done I just feel like I've littered my mind with the intellectual equivalent of fast food wrappers and cigarette butts. And then there's reddit and Twitter, which dump even more irrelevant junk data between my ears. Why do I keep reading this stuff?! I think it's because I have nothing else to do.
But just as I struggle with clutter in my house, I also have to struggle with clutter in my brain. I've got to find a substitute for this intellectual junk food.
And there's my 2,000th post.
My personal problem with Facebook isn't the time I spend with it, but the general pointlessness of what I read, and, frankly, what I post. I've picked up some gems of wisdom, but they've been few and far between. I quit visiting my regular coffee shop in part because I found myself trapped between two or three simultaneous conversations about things that didn't interest me. Facebook produces a similar effect: a lot of what strikes me as conversational noise.
Actually, the whole Internet is starting to wear me down. As you know if you've been reading this blog awhile, I don't own a TV. I can't stand the barrage of commercials, nor the hyperkinetic animations and visuals that seem to be always running, even popping up over programming. I hate the hours of 'information' programming in which the same two dozen pundits and spokespeople yell over each other.
That's television, but the Internet is starting to be the same way. I'm tired of visiting web sites where there are three animated advertisements running at the same time — and they're all for the same thing. I'm tired of the increasingly shrill political bloggers whose alarmist headlines lead to nothing more than a snarky critique of something some other shrill blogger wrote — which may be nothing more than a slam of a third blogger. I'm tired of 'news' about celebrities I've never heard of.
I make my daily round of my regular websites, which include The Huffington Post, Firedoglake, Crooks and Liars, Eschatonblog, Hullaballoo, io9, Slashfilm, Gawker and macsurfer, and after I'm done I just feel like I've littered my mind with the intellectual equivalent of fast food wrappers and cigarette butts. And then there's reddit and Twitter, which dump even more irrelevant junk data between my ears. Why do I keep reading this stuff?! I think it's because I have nothing else to do.
But just as I struggle with clutter in my house, I also have to struggle with clutter in my brain. I've got to find a substitute for this intellectual junk food.
And there's my 2,000th post.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
2000
The next post here, whatever it turns out to be, will be my 2,000th post. So, happy fucking 2,000th post to me.
Well, I voted.
But I can't remember an election where I had less enthusiasm for dragging my fat lazy ass to the polling place. I voted for George McGovern when I was 18, and I haven't missed a general or primary election yet - except for 2000, when I had moved to Texas and hadn't been there long enough to qualify.
But this year, it just seemed like a tiresome chore. This state is run by a coalition of creationists, militia enthusiasts, softcore white supremacists and billionaire pro sports hobbyists. Anything that doesn't appeal to at least one of those interest groups isn't going to go anywhere.
The Democratic nominee for U S Senate is, according to someone who knows him, a crazy old coot who lives in a trailer in Midwest City, has bad breath and lives on Chips Ahoy! cookies. Hell, I could have beaten him just relying on residual name recognition from TV days. I wouldn't win the general election, but at least I would have my footnote in Oklahoma history.
But this year, it just seemed like a tiresome chore. This state is run by a coalition of creationists, militia enthusiasts, softcore white supremacists and billionaire pro sports hobbyists. Anything that doesn't appeal to at least one of those interest groups isn't going to go anywhere.
The Democratic nominee for U S Senate is, according to someone who knows him, a crazy old coot who lives in a trailer in Midwest City, has bad breath and lives on Chips Ahoy! cookies. Hell, I could have beaten him just relying on residual name recognition from TV days. I wouldn't win the general election, but at least I would have my footnote in Oklahoma history.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Primary Day
Today is political primary day in my state. I will vote, but I have no enthusiasm for it.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Missing a friend
A friend dropped out of my life a few months ago. At the time, I was relieved. We had gotten to the point where we were together almost every day, and we had come to rely on each other for support in ways that were not healthy for either of us.
She was doing tons of stuff for me that I should have been doing for myself, and I was helping her out financially to an extent that was actually beyond my ability. She once said she would like to be my personal assistant. If I were a multimillionaire, I would have been happy to hire her in that position. As it was, I had come to rely on her to sort of keep me energized, so I wouldn't just sit in bed in a dark room all day like I'm doing right now.
Anyway, she moved on, and I have no idea what she's doing now. The parting was a little acrimonious, and I'm sorry it turned out that way.
These things are all temporary. People come and go. Nothing is permanent, and none of it has meaning.
Even so, I find my samsaric self sometimes misses her.
She was doing tons of stuff for me that I should have been doing for myself, and I was helping her out financially to an extent that was actually beyond my ability. She once said she would like to be my personal assistant. If I were a multimillionaire, I would have been happy to hire her in that position. As it was, I had come to rely on her to sort of keep me energized, so I wouldn't just sit in bed in a dark room all day like I'm doing right now.
Anyway, she moved on, and I have no idea what she's doing now. The parting was a little acrimonious, and I'm sorry it turned out that way.
These things are all temporary. People come and go. Nothing is permanent, and none of it has meaning.
Even so, I find my samsaric self sometimes misses her.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
There is no Santa Claus
After having fairly normal and productive days (well, productive by my standard) Friday and Saturday, I fell back into summertime slothfulness today. I didn't get out of bed until 2:30 pm. I took a shower, then went to an Italian place for lunch. Later, in the early evening, NurseK and I went to a Irish pub kind of place for dinner.
Somewhere in the day, I made it by Target to pick up some Q-Tips and a couple of T-shirts. But I spent most of the day in bed.
I was never a person of ambitious, far-reaching goals, but I've come to realize that even the miniscule goals I had for myself were pretty much pointless.
So, some days I don't feel like getting out of bed, nor do I see any reason why I should.
A couple of years ago, I wrote a post about people who are just sitting around, waiting to die.
That phrase was used by a woman I knew who was herself busy every minute of every day. She was a surgeon who, in addition to her medical career, raced cars, rode and maintained a decrepit old motorcycle, raised three pigs and some dogs and cats, and, in what time she had left over, skated in the roller derby. Seriously. I know that sounds like a character in a TV show, but there she was.
I don't begrudge anyone their hobbies and extracurricular activities. But this stuff is, to my mind, staying busy to stay busy. It's keeping ourselves occupied so we don't have to recognize the fundamental non-existence of all the stuff floating around in our heads – illusions which we have chosen to treat as reality.
It's liberating to realize all this stuff is just illusion. But in a way, it's also disappointing. It's like when I learned there wasn't really a Santa Claus. I wouldn't want to have spent my whole life believing there was a Santa Claus when there wasn't, but it was still sort of a letdown to find it out.
Somewhere in the day, I made it by Target to pick up some Q-Tips and a couple of T-shirts. But I spent most of the day in bed.
I was never a person of ambitious, far-reaching goals, but I've come to realize that even the miniscule goals I had for myself were pretty much pointless.
So, some days I don't feel like getting out of bed, nor do I see any reason why I should.
A couple of years ago, I wrote a post about people who are just sitting around, waiting to die.
That phrase was used by a woman I knew who was herself busy every minute of every day. She was a surgeon who, in addition to her medical career, raced cars, rode and maintained a decrepit old motorcycle, raised three pigs and some dogs and cats, and, in what time she had left over, skated in the roller derby. Seriously. I know that sounds like a character in a TV show, but there she was.
I don't begrudge anyone their hobbies and extracurricular activities. But this stuff is, to my mind, staying busy to stay busy. It's keeping ourselves occupied so we don't have to recognize the fundamental non-existence of all the stuff floating around in our heads – illusions which we have chosen to treat as reality.
It's liberating to realize all this stuff is just illusion. But in a way, it's also disappointing. It's like when I learned there wasn't really a Santa Claus. I wouldn't want to have spent my whole life believing there was a Santa Claus when there wasn't, but it was still sort of a letdown to find it out.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Monday
The heat, the light, the colors, the glare, the sounds, the textures — even the smells. Everything out there is too much for me right now. Here in the Very Dark Room, it is quiet, cool, calm, and of course, dark. I'll just stay here for now. I don't even want to leave to eat.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
119 Degrees
Unfortunately, there's no way to put photos on this blog from an iPad. If there were, I'd show you the picture I took of my car's outdoor thermometer yesterday. It was registering 119 degrees in the middle of a big restaurant parking lot. Here's a link to it on Facebook, if you're really interested.
The official high has yet to reach 100. But the humidity has been so high this summer that heat indexes of 102-105 degrees have been daily occurences.
I am doing what I did last summer, which is to retreat to the Very Dark Room, lights usually off, and sitting or lying in the dark most of the day. I'm sleeping a lot. I'm also reading "The Zen Teachings of Bodhidharma", a collection of writings traditionally attributed to the monk who brought Zen to China. Red Pine is the translator.
Like many of the earliest Zen/Chan writings, it's much more straightforward than the stuff that came a thousand or fifteen hundred years later.
The official high has yet to reach 100. But the humidity has been so high this summer that heat indexes of 102-105 degrees have been daily occurences.
I am doing what I did last summer, which is to retreat to the Very Dark Room, lights usually off, and sitting or lying in the dark most of the day. I'm sleeping a lot. I'm also reading "The Zen Teachings of Bodhidharma", a collection of writings traditionally attributed to the monk who brought Zen to China. Red Pine is the translator.
Like many of the earliest Zen/Chan writings, it's much more straightforward than the stuff that came a thousand or fifteen hundred years later.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Too much Facebook
Two acquaintances of mine are sort of 'acting out' their romantic breakup on Facebook. It feels unpleasant to witness.
They're being very adult and low-key about it, but even so, I feel uncomfortable reading about it. I don't know either of these people well enough for this to be any of my business.
I'm starting to be over Facebook. I feel as if I'm in too many other people's lives, and too many other people are in mine.
There's not going to be any Facebook in my mountainside hut.
They're being very adult and low-key about it, but even so, I feel uncomfortable reading about it. I don't know either of these people well enough for this to be any of my business.
I'm starting to be over Facebook. I feel as if I'm in too many other people's lives, and too many other people are in mine.
There's not going to be any Facebook in my mountainside hut.
Thursday, July 08, 2010
Back in High School...
...I knew this kind of willowy, gauzy, ethereal hippie chick. This was in 1969-70. Her name was Frances Green, but she was known to her friends as Frannie the Green. (This was 1969, remember.)
I lost track of her after high school. We both moved away from that town. About a year later, I got a letter from her. She wasn't sure I was the right mcarp, but she sent the letter on a hunch. I had no idea how she found me. I don't know why I didn't reply, but I didn't.
But I wondered over the years what had become of her. Starting about 2005, I began scouring the Internet looking for information on her. I posted queries about her on websites where I thought she might have visited.
One of them finally produced results. I got an email tonight telling me Frannie died of cancer two years ago.
I should have answered that letter.
I lost track of her after high school. We both moved away from that town. About a year later, I got a letter from her. She wasn't sure I was the right mcarp, but she sent the letter on a hunch. I had no idea how she found me. I don't know why I didn't reply, but I didn't.
But I wondered over the years what had become of her. Starting about 2005, I began scouring the Internet looking for information on her. I posted queries about her on websites where I thought she might have visited.
One of them finally produced results. I got an email tonight telling me Frannie died of cancer two years ago.
I should have answered that letter.
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
Back Projection Reality
Some days – and this was one of them – I feel a strange disconnect from my surroundings. I don't think 'alienated' is the right word, but I don't have a better one.
You know how, in old movies, if a couple of people were traveling in a car, they'd have them in a mocked-up car on a stage and project a movie of a street behind them to make it look as if they were driving down the street? That's how it feels to me.
I can't say I like it or that I don't like it. I simply observe it.
Bulldog Blackie and the Case
of the Mysterious Enigma.
Or something.
You know how, in old movies, if a couple of people were traveling in a car, they'd have them in a mocked-up car on a stage and project a movie of a street behind them to make it look as if they were driving down the street? That's how it feels to me.
I can't say I like it or that I don't like it. I simply observe it.
Sunday, July 04, 2010
Hubble pics
This is why I don't give a damn.
The Hubble pictures underscored for me the unimaginable vastness of the universe, and how small and frankly irrelevant our planet and all our human schemes and plans are in the grand scope of things.
The Hubble pictures don't leave me the least bit motivated to care about the things most people think are important.
But if the engineers, opticians and other experts who built and launched the Hubble had my attitude, the thing would never have been made, and I would never have seen these pictures.
I don't know what to make of that. It doesn't change my point of view.
Thursday, July 01, 2010
Bagworms
Apropos of nothing else, the bagworms are crazy this year. I have a juniper tree about six feet tall in the front yard that had at least a thousand of them. I tried spraying them, to no avail. Now, I'm picking them off by hand, one by one. I've pulled off more than 600 over the past three days, and it looks like I'm at about the halfway point. I hope I got to them in time to save the tree.
Non-attachment redux
A friend offered this item from zenhabits.com about non-attachment.
Letting Go of Attachment, From A to Zen | zenhabits.com
Back in 2006 I wrote a post about non-attachment. I'll post the relevant quote here:
I wrote that more than four years ago. At the time, I thought I was making great progress in removing attachments. And yet it's been only in the past ten days or so that I've been able to scratch the white-out off my rather basic and obvious attachment to stacks and stacks of old books. I've kept some around for twenty-five years or more, even though I rarely read them more than once.
I stayed attached to them because they made me feel erudite and intelligent, and it was important to me to be able to view myself that way. Part of the reason I'm able to let go of the books now is because I previously started divesting of the attachment to feeling erudite and intelligent.
Letting go of that doesn't mean I now view myself as poorly-educated and stupid. It means that I am in the process of outgrowing any opinion or judgment one way or the other.
(By the way, this also doesn't mean I'm going to turn anti-intellectual and start believing in Palinism, fundamentalism, creationism, UFOs, New Age and the like. Magical thinking is also an attachment. I still believe what I believe; I'm just not hanging my personal identity on it.)
In the meantime, there's still a lot of crap in this house.
Letting Go of Attachment, From A to Zen | zenhabits.com
Back in 2006 I wrote a post about non-attachment. I'll post the relevant quote here:
"I went through my list of attachments. This is harder than it sounds, because the stuff you detach from most readily is the stuff to which you're not really attached at all. Babyshit-flavor ice cream, for example. Totally non-attached to that. FOX News... non-attached. 'American Idol'... non-attached. Dan Brown novels... non-attached.
So what's the problem? The stuff to which we are really attached. I mean, we're so attached we won't even admit to ourselves we're attached, so when we're pondering the stuff to which we're attached, this is under the blobs of white-out we've painted there so we won't see it."
I wrote that more than four years ago. At the time, I thought I was making great progress in removing attachments. And yet it's been only in the past ten days or so that I've been able to scratch the white-out off my rather basic and obvious attachment to stacks and stacks of old books. I've kept some around for twenty-five years or more, even though I rarely read them more than once.
I stayed attached to them because they made me feel erudite and intelligent, and it was important to me to be able to view myself that way. Part of the reason I'm able to let go of the books now is because I previously started divesting of the attachment to feeling erudite and intelligent.
Letting go of that doesn't mean I now view myself as poorly-educated and stupid. It means that I am in the process of outgrowing any opinion or judgment one way or the other.
(By the way, this also doesn't mean I'm going to turn anti-intellectual and start believing in Palinism, fundamentalism, creationism, UFOs, New Age and the like. Magical thinking is also an attachment. I still believe what I believe; I'm just not hanging my personal identity on it.)
In the meantime, there's still a lot of crap in this house.
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