My life is 99.99 per cent perfect, so why do I keep looking for the remaining .01 percent?
Some people are never satisfied.
Truth to tell, I wouldn't know that last sliver if I saw it. What would it be?
A friend told me her New Years Eve plan was to smuggle a bottle of champagne into the Myriad Gardens tonight and wander around amongst the holiday lights by herself. That sounded pretty bleak to me, but I didn't tell her so.
I drove around tonight looking for a party. I guess my info was wrong, because it was not there. Later I saw blogblah! in his camel overcoat on the sidewalk in front of Galileo, smoking a cig and looking pensive.
Then I went home, nuked some macaroni and cheese, fiddled with a web site (Now with Flash! Take a look...), and now I'm about ready for bed.
Another day in paradise.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Sunday, December 30, 2007
I thought that was the 'Bush-Cheney effect'
"The Dunning-Kruger effect is the phenomenon wherein people who have little knowledge think that they know more than others who have much more knowledge."
Wikipedia
Wikipedia
Dick Cavett
It may or may not surprise you that I was big fan of The Dick Cavett Show when it was on ABC in the late sixties and early seventies. I'm not sure what other teenagers were watching in 1968 or '69... The Guns of Will Sonnett or The Virginian, I guess. But I was always in front of the tube when Dick Cavett was on.
I mention this after finding, via Atrios, Dick Cavett's blog on the NYT web site. It's mostly reminiscing about his talk show days – not surprisingly, it's heavy on Groucho and Norman Mailer. Here's a link.
I mention this after finding, via Atrios, Dick Cavett's blog on the NYT web site. It's mostly reminiscing about his talk show days – not surprisingly, it's heavy on Groucho and Norman Mailer. Here's a link.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
All things must pass
I've had a very interesting holiday season. For the last five to eight weeks or so, I've been in an unusually elevated mood.
During that time, I've gotten some projects done. I had been putting off getting the heater fan on my car fixed for three or four years. I had put off having the mole removed since 2002. I also got a few household chores done and gave away a few old clothes.
I indulged a couple of infatuations – and sure enough, I was made foolish.
I started walking almost every day – slightly less than a mile but more than I had been doing.
I drank more wine than I usually do. I spent a couple of evenings in bars I don't usually visit. I got outside of my geographic comfort zone more often than usual.
My spirits stayed good even during the six days I was exiled from my home by the power outage.
I had a perfectly wonderful Thanksgiving and Christmas Day.
But whatever propelled me to this elevated mood is starting to wear off. Maybe it was the fish oil, maybe it was something else. My perception is a little off right now because of this cold I have, but I can tell I'm returning to normal.
In a way, this is a good thing. It's like if you take a trip to Disney World: you have fun while you're there, but it's good to get back on the familiar ground of home. To be attached to a certain state of mind is still an attachment. Some people do dangerous and destructive things to keep their moods elevated – my plan is to just let mine return to normal.
I'm avoiding people right now not because I'm depressed, but because of my cold. But don't be surprised if, when you see me next, the old mcarp is back.
During that time, I've gotten some projects done. I had been putting off getting the heater fan on my car fixed for three or four years. I had put off having the mole removed since 2002. I also got a few household chores done and gave away a few old clothes.
I indulged a couple of infatuations – and sure enough, I was made foolish.
I started walking almost every day – slightly less than a mile but more than I had been doing.
I drank more wine than I usually do. I spent a couple of evenings in bars I don't usually visit. I got outside of my geographic comfort zone more often than usual.
My spirits stayed good even during the six days I was exiled from my home by the power outage.
I had a perfectly wonderful Thanksgiving and Christmas Day.
But whatever propelled me to this elevated mood is starting to wear off. Maybe it was the fish oil, maybe it was something else. My perception is a little off right now because of this cold I have, but I can tell I'm returning to normal.
In a way, this is a good thing. It's like if you take a trip to Disney World: you have fun while you're there, but it's good to get back on the familiar ground of home. To be attached to a certain state of mind is still an attachment. Some people do dangerous and destructive things to keep their moods elevated – my plan is to just let mine return to normal.
I'm avoiding people right now not because I'm depressed, but because of my cold. But don't be surprised if, when you see me next, the old mcarp is back.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Why I'm leaning toward Edwards
I hope he stays with this theme. It will be interesting to see how well this serves him in Iowa.
Actually, I talk too much
I occasionally am ribbed for not being very talkative.
I suppose that's true, but barely a day goes by that I don't say something I instantly wish I hadn't said. Right now I can think of two or three occasions in the past ten days where I said something that would have been better left unspoken.
I don't have much of any usefulness or importance to say (neither do most of us, if the truth be known), and if I could limit my speech to the things that were of real value, I'd speak maybe once every two days. (See what meditation teacher Joseph Goldstein said on this same subject.)
Sometimes at one of my local hangouts, a friend will come up and sit down, say "Hi," and nothing else. I'll say "Hi" in response and then we'll sit there silently. I'm OK with this. We each realize (I hope) that we can be friends in each other's company without filling the air with mindless jabber.
I have a few friends who have attended a ten-day silent meditation retreat in Texas. I wonder how I would survive that. I also remember the actor Larry Hagman's habit of setting aside one day a week in which he never spoke. That seemed eccentric when I first read of it twenty-five or so years ago, but it seems rather sensible today.
I suppose that's true, but barely a day goes by that I don't say something I instantly wish I hadn't said. Right now I can think of two or three occasions in the past ten days where I said something that would have been better left unspoken.
I don't have much of any usefulness or importance to say (neither do most of us, if the truth be known), and if I could limit my speech to the things that were of real value, I'd speak maybe once every two days. (See what meditation teacher Joseph Goldstein said on this same subject.)
Sometimes at one of my local hangouts, a friend will come up and sit down, say "Hi," and nothing else. I'll say "Hi" in response and then we'll sit there silently. I'm OK with this. We each realize (I hope) that we can be friends in each other's company without filling the air with mindless jabber.
I have a few friends who have attended a ten-day silent meditation retreat in Texas. I wonder how I would survive that. I also remember the actor Larry Hagman's habit of setting aside one day a week in which he never spoke. That seemed eccentric when I first read of it twenty-five or so years ago, but it seems rather sensible today.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
The Gospel of Prosperity
CNN has an Associated Press article examining the dark side of the 'Gospel of Prosperity.'
The cutaneous horn and I
I had a growth removed from my chest today. The doctor called it a 'combination mole and cutaneous horn.' I Googled the term "cutaneous horn,' but none of the examples I found looked exactly like mine. Most were worse.
This growth first appeared in about 1983 as an ordinary-looking mole. But it slowly grew until, in 2007, it was bigger around than the tip of my thumb, and almost 3/8" high. I was either going to have to have it removed or have a bra made for it.
I should have taken a pic of the excised growth with my cell phone, but I didn't think about until after I left the clinic.
I now have about a half-dozen stitches holding together the area of my skin from which the growth was cut.
This growth first appeared in about 1983 as an ordinary-looking mole. But it slowly grew until, in 2007, it was bigger around than the tip of my thumb, and almost 3/8" high. I was either going to have to have it removed or have a bra made for it.
I should have taken a pic of the excised growth with my cell phone, but I didn't think about until after I left the clinic.
I now have about a half-dozen stitches holding together the area of my skin from which the growth was cut.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Christmas Day, 2007
...was yesterday. I spent most of the day with friends, and had plenty to eat. I didn't buy a thing, except a cheese plate, didn't give a thing, didn't receive a thing. It was the best Christmas I've had in at least ten years.
There is no material thing that is better than time with your friends.
There is no material thing that is better than time with your friends.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Christmas Eve, 2007
I was sitting in a restaurant this evening - one of the old haunts from my TV news days - when a group of thirty-something suits came in. They were not TV people, as far as I could tell. They were more likely bankers or stock brokers or something like that.
They wore charcoal gray suits, white pinpoint oxford shirts, Florsheim or Cole-Haan captoe oxfords and solid ties. They had precise cardboard hair styles. Their wives or girlfriends were with them. Their black dresses and hairstyles were essentially identical and very proper and far north side.
Nearby at the bar, a man had taken off his suit jacket to show another fellow the label. I could see from where I was it wasn't all that great a suit, but he apparently wanted his friend to see what a prestige label it was. After that, he bent down to pull off a shoe - I assume to show his friend the label on that, as well - then thought better of it and sat back down at the bar.
I used to be like that. It was partly out of necessity - I was stuck in a materialistic, corporate world where I didn't fit in, no matter how much I tried. But I was also like that partly out of desire to impress other people with my wardrobe. The reason I knew the guy's suit wasn't all that great is because I have actually studied the subject. I could easily see myself in 1987 or thereabouts pulling off my clothes to flash the labels at someone else.
But I was sitting there tonight in my denim jacket, cargo pants and black mock turtleneck, being very thankful I am no longer in that world. I recognize that many people live in that world and are entirely comfortable and happy with it. Good for them. But it was not for me.
I am blessed and grateful to have been delivered from that. Part of it is of my own doing, but most of it is because of events that were beyond my control. I was carried along by the river, and it eventually took me to a place where I can feel relaxed and at home.
I continue to be astonished at how much my life has changed. It's as if I had died and gone to heaven. Sometimes I'm depressed about things, as you can tell from many previous posts. But by and large, my life has changed for the better to a degree that I think most people don't get to experience.
Merry Christmas to all of you.
They wore charcoal gray suits, white pinpoint oxford shirts, Florsheim or Cole-Haan captoe oxfords and solid ties. They had precise cardboard hair styles. Their wives or girlfriends were with them. Their black dresses and hairstyles were essentially identical and very proper and far north side.
Nearby at the bar, a man had taken off his suit jacket to show another fellow the label. I could see from where I was it wasn't all that great a suit, but he apparently wanted his friend to see what a prestige label it was. After that, he bent down to pull off a shoe - I assume to show his friend the label on that, as well - then thought better of it and sat back down at the bar.
I used to be like that. It was partly out of necessity - I was stuck in a materialistic, corporate world where I didn't fit in, no matter how much I tried. But I was also like that partly out of desire to impress other people with my wardrobe. The reason I knew the guy's suit wasn't all that great is because I have actually studied the subject. I could easily see myself in 1987 or thereabouts pulling off my clothes to flash the labels at someone else.
But I was sitting there tonight in my denim jacket, cargo pants and black mock turtleneck, being very thankful I am no longer in that world. I recognize that many people live in that world and are entirely comfortable and happy with it. Good for them. But it was not for me.
I am blessed and grateful to have been delivered from that. Part of it is of my own doing, but most of it is because of events that were beyond my control. I was carried along by the river, and it eventually took me to a place where I can feel relaxed and at home.
I continue to be astonished at how much my life has changed. It's as if I had died and gone to heaven. Sometimes I'm depressed about things, as you can tell from many previous posts. But by and large, my life has changed for the better to a degree that I think most people don't get to experience.
Merry Christmas to all of you.
Monday dreams
I went back to bed and laid there thinking about how much time I've spent the past few weeks wallowing in emotionalism, memories and self-pity. And I got to where I felt kind of queasy and sick to my stomach about it – like I'd overdosed on banana caramels again.
So, I've got to stop.
After I went back to bed, I had a couple of strange dreams. One was something about boats at the Hefner Marina being auctioned off for a fraction of their value because their owners had abandoned them and not paid their slip fees. I was with someone else and we were looking at pictures in the newspaper of some of the auctioned boats.
In the second dream, I was sitting with my father somewhere - like in a living room or something. He stood up and stretched and said, "Well, I think I'm going to bed now."
I noticed he looked great - healthy and happy. He was wearing a light blue cardigan over a white button-down shirt, and some sort of casual slacks. His hair and beard were trimmed and his face was free of the burst blood vessels and capillaries he had in his cheeks and nose from about age 60 on.
I was doing some mental math, trying to recall how old he actually was - let's see, I think he was 22 when I was born, so that would make him - and then I remembered: he's dead. I was there when he died.
So I stood up and I put my arms around him, and I said, "Dad, it's always great when you can come around. Seriously." And I put my arms around him and held him - more like I'd hold my own child if I had one than the way I ever hugged him in life.
"I know, son," he said.
And then I woke up with tears in my eyes.
But this wasn't my real father. This was some idealized fiction - the way my dad would have looked if he'd been cast in the lead of "Father Knows Best.'
I hope he doesn't actually decide to start showing up all the time.
So, I've got to stop.
After I went back to bed, I had a couple of strange dreams. One was something about boats at the Hefner Marina being auctioned off for a fraction of their value because their owners had abandoned them and not paid their slip fees. I was with someone else and we were looking at pictures in the newspaper of some of the auctioned boats.
In the second dream, I was sitting with my father somewhere - like in a living room or something. He stood up and stretched and said, "Well, I think I'm going to bed now."
I noticed he looked great - healthy and happy. He was wearing a light blue cardigan over a white button-down shirt, and some sort of casual slacks. His hair and beard were trimmed and his face was free of the burst blood vessels and capillaries he had in his cheeks and nose from about age 60 on.
I was doing some mental math, trying to recall how old he actually was - let's see, I think he was 22 when I was born, so that would make him - and then I remembered: he's dead. I was there when he died.
So I stood up and I put my arms around him, and I said, "Dad, it's always great when you can come around. Seriously." And I put my arms around him and held him - more like I'd hold my own child if I had one than the way I ever hugged him in life.
"I know, son," he said.
And then I woke up with tears in my eyes.
But this wasn't my real father. This was some idealized fiction - the way my dad would have looked if he'd been cast in the lead of "Father Knows Best.'
I hope he doesn't actually decide to start showing up all the time.
The full moon
I noticed the moon is full or nearly so.
A few years ago, during one of those periods when I was doing rather more magical thinking than I do now, I sent someone a series of emails about the beauty and magic of the full moon. I was infatuated - not by the moon, but by her.
And when she didn't tell me to take a flying leap, I interpreted that as a sign I might win her over. Actually, she was being polite because she valued my friendship and couldn't figure out how to get me to stop without hurting my feelings. Eventually, because I couldn't take a hint, she had to just be blunt and tell me to stop.
That turned into a good exercise in non-attachment for me.
Sometimes I have to resist the temptation to email her – "Hey, I thought I'd just drop you a line after all these months to let you know how non-attached I am now."
But every time I see the full moon...
A few years ago, during one of those periods when I was doing rather more magical thinking than I do now, I sent someone a series of emails about the beauty and magic of the full moon. I was infatuated - not by the moon, but by her.
And when she didn't tell me to take a flying leap, I interpreted that as a sign I might win her over. Actually, she was being polite because she valued my friendship and couldn't figure out how to get me to stop without hurting my feelings. Eventually, because I couldn't take a hint, she had to just be blunt and tell me to stop.
That turned into a good exercise in non-attachment for me.
Sometimes I have to resist the temptation to email her – "Hey, I thought I'd just drop you a line after all these months to let you know how non-attached I am now."
But every time I see the full moon...
Three kittens
I mentioned in a previous post that I have three kittens in the house. They're still young enough that they speand all their time together and sleep in a pile in one corner.
Two of these kittens will not let me near them. If I manage to catch one, it doesn't claw or bite to get free, but neither enjoys being touched or handled. The third kitten, however, is not afraid to loosen its belt and go looking for trouble.
The other kittens won't eat until after the adult cats have cleared the area. But this one eats with the grownups, and slaps at adult cats that crowd it at the food bowl. Occasionally, when I'm sleeping and wake up, I'll find it sleeping on top of me.
This kitten is also quite a bit smaller than the other two. We have a genetic strain of small cats in this neighborhood and this one may turn out to be the smallest yet.
But I wonder what makes this one less afraid of me and the grown cats than its two siblings.
Two of these kittens will not let me near them. If I manage to catch one, it doesn't claw or bite to get free, but neither enjoys being touched or handled. The third kitten, however, is not afraid to loosen its belt and go looking for trouble.
The other kittens won't eat until after the adult cats have cleared the area. But this one eats with the grownups, and slaps at adult cats that crowd it at the food bowl. Occasionally, when I'm sleeping and wake up, I'll find it sleeping on top of me.
This kitten is also quite a bit smaller than the other two. We have a genetic strain of small cats in this neighborhood and this one may turn out to be the smallest yet.
But I wonder what makes this one less afraid of me and the grown cats than its two siblings.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Dharma talks
I wrote a few months back that I found numerous dharma talks and Buddhist teachings on iTunes as free podcasts. I now have 1,115 of these talks stored on my hard drive (granted, some are multi-chapter talks divided into segments) – 31.2 days in length if I sat down and played them back to back 24/7.
I've actually listened to about four of them.
Sometimes I think there must be a vast treasure trove of wisdom in there awaiting discovery. Other times I think, 'Well, the ball is round, I can see that the ball is round - how many more people do I need to have tell me the ball is round?'
I've actually listened to about four of them.
Sometimes I think there must be a vast treasure trove of wisdom in there awaiting discovery. Other times I think, 'Well, the ball is round, I can see that the ball is round - how many more people do I need to have tell me the ball is round?'
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Close to the edge
Maybe it's the fish oil, maybe it's having a few friends who are young and still enthusiastic about being alive. Whatever it is, I've lately been drawn back into the realm of emotions and desires.
Every so often, someone will encourage me to not be so shut down emotionally... to get out there and take a chance on love, or life, or excitement, or passion, or whatever. Let me show you an artist's conception of how that has worked for me in the past:
As I said in the previous post, my goal is peace, tranquility and stability. Following the teachings of the Buddha, as well as Taoist masters like Wen-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu, and Zen teachers ranging from Hui-Neng to Seung Sahn, seems to work for me.
As I think I've mentioned elsewhere, I didn't have to tear myself away from a life of glamour and romance to do this. What I had to do was make some sense out of the life of an ordinary person of average appearance and tolerable personality who was not going to be able to fulfill his heart's desires and who did not want to anesthetize himself with drugs or home shopping channels.
So when I say I'm being drawn back into the realm of emotions and desires, that's not really correct. I was never there, and I never felt that realm was open to me. It would be more accurate to say that I am being drawn toward some idealized notion of what that realm would be like, even though experience gives the lie to the perception.
A few months ago, a couple of friends quoted Zorba the Greek to me: "To be alive is to undo your belt and look for trouble." The only trouble I would have in that circumstance is that my pants would fall down.
No, I don't want to look for trouble. And I don't want trouble to come to me.
I've said this a half dozen times in the past few months, but I am so damn grateful that my life has reached the stage it's at. I never thought I would be living the life I have now. Why undermine it by going back into crazyworld?
Every so often, someone will encourage me to not be so shut down emotionally... to get out there and take a chance on love, or life, or excitement, or passion, or whatever. Let me show you an artist's conception of how that has worked for me in the past:
As I said in the previous post, my goal is peace, tranquility and stability. Following the teachings of the Buddha, as well as Taoist masters like Wen-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu, and Zen teachers ranging from Hui-Neng to Seung Sahn, seems to work for me.
As I think I've mentioned elsewhere, I didn't have to tear myself away from a life of glamour and romance to do this. What I had to do was make some sense out of the life of an ordinary person of average appearance and tolerable personality who was not going to be able to fulfill his heart's desires and who did not want to anesthetize himself with drugs or home shopping channels.
So when I say I'm being drawn back into the realm of emotions and desires, that's not really correct. I was never there, and I never felt that realm was open to me. It would be more accurate to say that I am being drawn toward some idealized notion of what that realm would be like, even though experience gives the lie to the perception.
A few months ago, a couple of friends quoted Zorba the Greek to me: "To be alive is to undo your belt and look for trouble." The only trouble I would have in that circumstance is that my pants would fall down.
No, I don't want to look for trouble. And I don't want trouble to come to me.
I've said this a half dozen times in the past few months, but I am so damn grateful that my life has reached the stage it's at. I never thought I would be living the life I have now. Why undermine it by going back into crazyworld?
Can I be a Buddhist but...?
I've gotten a couple of messages from Buddhist email lists over the past few days that fall under the general heading of 'Can I still be a Buddhist but avoid some practice of Buddhism I find unpleasant?'
I may be a Buddhist, and I may not be. But my goal is not to 'be a Buddhist.' My goal is peace, tranquility and stability. Following the teachings of the Buddha, as well as Taoist masters like Wen-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu, and Zen teachers ranging from Hui-Neng to Seung Sahn, seems to work for me.
What does that make me? I don't know. I don't care. Why do I need a label?
I may be a Buddhist, and I may not be. But my goal is not to 'be a Buddhist.' My goal is peace, tranquility and stability. Following the teachings of the Buddha, as well as Taoist masters like Wen-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu, and Zen teachers ranging from Hui-Neng to Seung Sahn, seems to work for me.
What does that make me? I don't know. I don't care. Why do I need a label?
Correcting a contradiction
Re-reading comments from the post on 'Nothing to Do, Nowhere to Go', I see that I contradicted myself on the subject of destiny. Let me try to clarify.
I don't believe in destiny in the sense of it being some sort of higher purpose to which we are called by a thinking, sentient supreme being or the Force or whatever you want to call it.
I believe that there is a basic flow to nature – part of what is sometimes called the Tao – which we eventually follow, whether we want to or not. That is the only destiny we have. It is more productive, in my opinion, to live one's life in harmony with that flow than to try to work against it.
I don't believe in destiny in the sense of it being some sort of higher purpose to which we are called by a thinking, sentient supreme being or the Force or whatever you want to call it.
I believe that there is a basic flow to nature – part of what is sometimes called the Tao – which we eventually follow, whether we want to or not. That is the only destiny we have. It is more productive, in my opinion, to live one's life in harmony with that flow than to try to work against it.
Another online poll!
Lifted from a Red Cup friend's myspace blog:
1) Where did you begin 2007?
Working full time for a government department, spending most of my free time at the Red Cup or nearby.
2) What was your status by Valentine's Day?
Single, not in a relationship. Still working full time, and spending my free time at the Red Cup.
3) Were you in school (anytime this year)?
One professional CE seminar, plus two online courses required for admission to the seminar.
4) How did you earn your money?
Full time job first half of the year; living off money in the bank second half of the year.
5) Did you have to go to the hospital?
I don't remember... was the cat bite in late '06 or early '07?
6) Did you have any encounters with the police?
No.
7) Where did you go on holidays?
Had Thanksgiving dinner at a friend's house and will do the same on Christmas.
8) What did you purchase that was over $1000?
A bicycle. And I got the house painted.
9) Did you know anybody who got married?
No.
10) Did you know anybody who passed away?
Nobody to whom I was close. A couple of people who were friends of friends.
12) Did you move anywhere?
No.
14) What concerts/shows did you go to?
Live music at the Red Cup and Sauced.
15) Are you registered to vote?
Yes
16) Who did you want to win American Idol?
I've never seen American Idol.
17) Where do you live now?
The same place I've lived since 2001.
18) Describe your birthday.
I assume it will be another day in the life. It usually is.
19) What's one thing you thought you'd never do but did in 2007?
Can't think of one. I did a couple of things that I thought would be years away instead of now, but nothing that I thought would never happen at all.
20) What has been your favorite moment?
I've had a lot of 'moments' that were brief periods of small "e" enlightenment. It's been very pleasant getting manufactured drama and stress out of my life, although I still occasionally backslide.
21) What's something you learned about yourself?
I don't recall anything new this year.
22) Any new additions to your family?
Three kittens.
23.) What was your best month?
Probably November.
24.) What song will remind you of 2007?
I don't know.
25.) Looking forward to a New Year?
2008 is the year I'm finally going to learn how to relax.
1) Where did you begin 2007?
Working full time for a government department, spending most of my free time at the Red Cup or nearby.
2) What was your status by Valentine's Day?
Single, not in a relationship. Still working full time, and spending my free time at the Red Cup.
3) Were you in school (anytime this year)?
One professional CE seminar, plus two online courses required for admission to the seminar.
4) How did you earn your money?
Full time job first half of the year; living off money in the bank second half of the year.
5) Did you have to go to the hospital?
I don't remember... was the cat bite in late '06 or early '07?
6) Did you have any encounters with the police?
No.
7) Where did you go on holidays?
Had Thanksgiving dinner at a friend's house and will do the same on Christmas.
8) What did you purchase that was over $1000?
A bicycle. And I got the house painted.
9) Did you know anybody who got married?
No.
10) Did you know anybody who passed away?
Nobody to whom I was close. A couple of people who were friends of friends.
12) Did you move anywhere?
No.
14) What concerts/shows did you go to?
Live music at the Red Cup and Sauced.
15) Are you registered to vote?
Yes
16) Who did you want to win American Idol?
I've never seen American Idol.
17) Where do you live now?
The same place I've lived since 2001.
18) Describe your birthday.
I assume it will be another day in the life. It usually is.
19) What's one thing you thought you'd never do but did in 2007?
Can't think of one. I did a couple of things that I thought would be years away instead of now, but nothing that I thought would never happen at all.
20) What has been your favorite moment?
I've had a lot of 'moments' that were brief periods of small "e" enlightenment. It's been very pleasant getting manufactured drama and stress out of my life, although I still occasionally backslide.
21) What's something you learned about yourself?
I don't recall anything new this year.
22) Any new additions to your family?
Three kittens.
23.) What was your best month?
Probably November.
24.) What song will remind you of 2007?
I don't know.
25.) Looking forward to a New Year?
2008 is the year I'm finally going to learn how to relax.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Wanna kick it? Apparently not.
I see that Nina/Christina has decided to severely redact and perhaps suspend Flibbertigibbet!
No more breakups over the doctrine of virgin birth. No more infatuations with 6'2" bodybuilders. No more L1-4. No more updates on Louah, PDB or NPD Boy. No more Rick Springfield.
Well, okay... I can live without the Rick Springfield stuff.
Personally, I hope she has just moved all those posts to 'draft' and hasn't deleted them altogether, and will reconsider her decision.
No more breakups over the doctrine of virgin birth. No more infatuations with 6'2" bodybuilders. No more L1-4. No more updates on Louah, PDB or NPD Boy. No more Rick Springfield.
Well, okay... I can live without the Rick Springfield stuff.
Personally, I hope she has just moved all those posts to 'draft' and hasn't deleted them altogether, and will reconsider her decision.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Nothing to Do, Nowhere to Go
You'd think I'd be able to sail through a book with a title like "Nothing to Do, Nowhere to Go," but in fact it's been pretty slow going.
This is a commentary by Thich Nhat Hanh on the teachings of Linji (also known as Rinzai), who was one of the great figures of early Ch'an (or Zen).
My own experience tells me this is true. Even so, I find that I haven't reached the point of truly stopping – truly putting everything down.
On the other hand, I realize that before I had any understanding of Zen teachings, I was already farther along this path than most people ever care to go. I'd guess the reason I was so drawn to it is because by the time I reached mid-adolescence, I was already frustrated and worn out with trying to meet the expectations and standards of society. It's a lot easier to let go of the stuff if your grip on it was never very good to begin with.
Nonetheless, I find this book to be more difficult to digest than a lot of other things I've read.
This is a commentary by Thich Nhat Hanh on the teachings of Linji (also known as Rinzai), who was one of the great figures of early Ch'an (or Zen).
A Buddha is a person who has no more business to do and isn't looking for anything. In doing nothing, in simply stopping, we can live freely and true to ourselves and our liberation will contribute to the liberation of all beings.
My own experience tells me this is true. Even so, I find that I haven't reached the point of truly stopping – truly putting everything down.
On the other hand, I realize that before I had any understanding of Zen teachings, I was already farther along this path than most people ever care to go. I'd guess the reason I was so drawn to it is because by the time I reached mid-adolescence, I was already frustrated and worn out with trying to meet the expectations and standards of society. It's a lot easier to let go of the stuff if your grip on it was never very good to begin with.
Nonetheless, I find this book to be more difficult to digest than a lot of other things I've read.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Another day in paradise
I want to reiterate how great my life is. Yes, my car is full of junk. The house looks like Al-Qaeda flew a 747 loaded with cat shit into it.
But if you could have seen my life on this day in 1998 you would know why I constantly have to stop and remind myself that yes, this is really happening to me.
But if you could have seen my life on this day in 1998 you would know why I constantly have to stop and remind myself that yes, this is really happening to me.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Another reason to love MySpace
I mean, Jesus God... what am I looking at here?
Of course, you have to see it with the Flash-animated ads running over and over and over and over to get the full effect.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Grocery shopping with the Robert Shaw Chorale
I went to the supermarket tonight to pick up something to snack on. I lost everything in the fridge during the power outage, so the pickings in the house were rather slim.
The supermarket, at 39th & Pennsylvania, was almost empty at 5pm.
Across the street, a half-dozen police units were converged on a parked car.
"God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen" was playing over the PA system.
I don't know why stores feel the need to play Christmas music. It doesn't make the shopping experience any more festive. In inner-city neighborhoods like this one, it tends to make an otherwise ordinary day seem bleak and empty.
Some of my friends and/or fellow bloggers have talked about finding 'that special someone' during the holidays. I feel that same way at times, except that I see it as looking for someone who will distract me from the depressing aspects of National Buy Something For Jesus' Birthday Month.
Distraction is, in the end, another sucker bet. We have a whole nation of people looking for things that will distract them from reality, and sometimes spending themselves into bankruptcy for them. I'm not just talking about drugs, either. There's satellite radio, cable TV, season football tickets and more.
I guess I need some kind of strong wrap-up here, but I don't have one.
The supermarket, at 39th & Pennsylvania, was almost empty at 5pm.
Across the street, a half-dozen police units were converged on a parked car.
"God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen" was playing over the PA system.
I don't know why stores feel the need to play Christmas music. It doesn't make the shopping experience any more festive. In inner-city neighborhoods like this one, it tends to make an otherwise ordinary day seem bleak and empty.
Some of my friends and/or fellow bloggers have talked about finding 'that special someone' during the holidays. I feel that same way at times, except that I see it as looking for someone who will distract me from the depressing aspects of National Buy Something For Jesus' Birthday Month.
Distraction is, in the end, another sucker bet. We have a whole nation of people looking for things that will distract them from reality, and sometimes spending themselves into bankruptcy for them. I'm not just talking about drugs, either. There's satellite radio, cable TV, season football tickets and more.
I guess I need some kind of strong wrap-up here, but I don't have one.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Friday, December 14, 2007
That special someone
From MindOverMary:
It took me a long time to figure this out, but there are no special someones. There are only other people who are roughly as screwed up as you and I are, although perhaps in different ways. So you can either try to make something work with someone who is flawed and imperfect just as you and I are, or you can go it alone.
I found I generally lacked the patience or wisdom to deal with women as flawed and as imperfect as I am. I still want White Tara. Since she doesn't exist, I generally go it alone.
This time of year always makes me yearn for that special someone to come into my life and sweep me off my feet.
It took me a long time to figure this out, but there are no special someones. There are only other people who are roughly as screwed up as you and I are, although perhaps in different ways. So you can either try to make something work with someone who is flawed and imperfect just as you and I are, or you can go it alone.
I found I generally lacked the patience or wisdom to deal with women as flawed and as imperfect as I am. I still want White Tara. Since she doesn't exist, I generally go it alone.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
The weather report
For those of you outside the metro and relying on national news coverage for ice storm info: a friend called the power company yesterday and was told it would probably be two weeks before the power is back on in her neighborhood.
They've opened up our big downtown sports arena to serve as public shelter.
What we're going through is a fraction of what New Orleans went through, but I hope it opens some eyes to the fragility of our own infrastructure.
Again, I'm incredibly grateful to be in a warm, comfortable place during all this.
They've opened up our big downtown sports arena to serve as public shelter.
What we're going through is a fraction of what New Orleans went through, but I hope it opens some eyes to the fragility of our own infrastructure.
Again, I'm incredibly grateful to be in a warm, comfortable place during all this.
A little honesty... I think
If I were going to face the truth, I think I would have to say that part of the reason I look the way I do is that I enjoy being the contrarian.
I think I conjured up a sort of idealized image of myself in my current fashion mode... something akin to what Kiefer Sutherland would look like if her were cast as me in "Neither Being nor Not Being: the mcarp Story."
Then I see myself in a mirror or plate glass window and am reminded that John Goodman would be a more appropriate casting choice (or Homer Simpson, were he a real human being). And then I think to myself, "Well, I don't look scruffy or rebellious or devil-may-care or like I'm standing up to 'the man.' I just look like a fat guy in crappy clothes (except for the scarf, which is my one redeeming fashion statement)."
Sort of like, well, Michael Moore or Peter Jackson.
And all of that self-image stuff is driven by a sense of self and a desire to create a certain impression in the minds of other people. Dualistic thinking all the way, baby.
I've got my arms full – full of all this 'self' baggage. I didn't put it all down – I just swapped out the boxes I was carrying it all around in.
I think I conjured up a sort of idealized image of myself in my current fashion mode... something akin to what Kiefer Sutherland would look like if her were cast as me in "Neither Being nor Not Being: the mcarp Story."
Then I see myself in a mirror or plate glass window and am reminded that John Goodman would be a more appropriate casting choice (or Homer Simpson, were he a real human being). And then I think to myself, "Well, I don't look scruffy or rebellious or devil-may-care or like I'm standing up to 'the man.' I just look like a fat guy in crappy clothes (except for the scarf, which is my one redeeming fashion statement)."
Sort of like, well, Michael Moore or Peter Jackson.
And all of that self-image stuff is driven by a sense of self and a desire to create a certain impression in the minds of other people. Dualistic thinking all the way, baby.
I've got my arms full – full of all this 'self' baggage. I didn't put it all down – I just swapped out the boxes I was carrying it all around in.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Second and third thoughts
A few days ago a friend sent me an entry from the Urban Slang Dictionary for the word 'hobosexual.' It's defined as someone who doesn't care anything about his appearance - the opposite of 'metrosexual.' Michael Moore and Peter Jackson were listed as examples. "This is you!" she wrote.
I was in a bar tonight where a couple of women said I looked like Dr. Johnny Fever from WKRP in Cincinnati.
Yes, there's a resemblance, I suppose, but Johnny Fever wasn't as overweight as I am.
From about 2001 foreward, it's been within my grasp to create almost any kind of image for myself I desired. I couldn't imitate Mark Cuban or Brad Pitt, but I could jettison what blogblah! once described as "that shambling Who? Me? exterior" (read the comments here for more) in favor of something more sleek and fashionable. If I wanted to trade in the hoodie sweatshirts for Armani, I could do that. If I wanted to dump the minivan in favor of a Lexus or BMW, I could do that, too.
And sometimes something or someone comes along who make me wish I had done so - but only temporarily. I had plenty of experience in television with the business of remaking myself into something I wasn't. I discovered that while I could keep up the act for a time, it left me emotionally and intellectually exhausted – and I always let the real 'no class' me slip out eventually.
Fortunately, I no longer have a job that requires me to project any particular image. But sometimes I'll meet someone who catches my interest and tempts me to remake myself to suit her preferences. Intellectually, I know that's a sucker bet. Even so, it sometimes gets tiresome being me, and I think maybe the minuses have come to outweigh the pluses. Certainly playing the role of the affable, slightly dumpy and lethargic 'big brother' figure has its downside.
But why even have a concept of being me? Why even have words in my mind that describe the difference between who I am and who I 'ought' to be? Where does all that come from? It's more of the stuff that I've created in my own mind - often with the help of mass media and other people who have similar stuff in their own minds.
So I say that this desire to remake myself according to other people's preferences occasionally manifests itself, but only for a time. The real happiness comes not from being the 'real me', but from putting aside notions of there being a 'real me' and notions of some 'other me' I might become.
I still don't have any electricity, by the way.
I was in a bar tonight where a couple of women said I looked like Dr. Johnny Fever from WKRP in Cincinnati.
Yes, there's a resemblance, I suppose, but Johnny Fever wasn't as overweight as I am.
From about 2001 foreward, it's been within my grasp to create almost any kind of image for myself I desired. I couldn't imitate Mark Cuban or Brad Pitt, but I could jettison what blogblah! once described as "that shambling Who? Me? exterior" (read the comments here for more) in favor of something more sleek and fashionable. If I wanted to trade in the hoodie sweatshirts for Armani, I could do that. If I wanted to dump the minivan in favor of a Lexus or BMW, I could do that, too.
And sometimes something or someone comes along who make me wish I had done so - but only temporarily. I had plenty of experience in television with the business of remaking myself into something I wasn't. I discovered that while I could keep up the act for a time, it left me emotionally and intellectually exhausted – and I always let the real 'no class' me slip out eventually.
Fortunately, I no longer have a job that requires me to project any particular image. But sometimes I'll meet someone who catches my interest and tempts me to remake myself to suit her preferences. Intellectually, I know that's a sucker bet. Even so, it sometimes gets tiresome being me, and I think maybe the minuses have come to outweigh the pluses. Certainly playing the role of the affable, slightly dumpy and lethargic 'big brother' figure has its downside.
But why even have a concept of being me? Why even have words in my mind that describe the difference between who I am and who I 'ought' to be? Where does all that come from? It's more of the stuff that I've created in my own mind - often with the help of mass media and other people who have similar stuff in their own minds.
So I say that this desire to remake myself according to other people's preferences occasionally manifests itself, but only for a time. The real happiness comes not from being the 'real me', but from putting aside notions of there being a 'real me' and notions of some 'other me' I might become.
I still don't have any electricity, by the way.
It looks like a WAR ZONE!
For those you just joining us, our exclusive team coverage of ICE STORM 2007 continues now.
It looks like a WAR ZONE out there, and many are turning to generators for electric power. But with the electric power these generators bring, there is also a danger: DEADLY carbon monoxide.
We've put together a few handy storm-related tips for you.
1. If you find a live power line, do not put it in your mouth.
2. If you do pick up a live power line and put it in your mouth, be sure you're warmly dressed... in layers.
3. If you're coanchoring exclusive team coverage of ICE STORM 2007, be sure to nod in emphatic agreement with everything your coanchor says, no matter how obvious or inane.
Good tips.
(Did you remember to nod in agreement?)
It looks like a WAR ZONE out there, and many are turning to generators for electric power. But with the electric power these generators bring, there is also a danger: DEADLY carbon monoxide.
We've put together a few handy storm-related tips for you.
1. If you find a live power line, do not put it in your mouth.
2. If you do pick up a live power line and put it in your mouth, be sure you're warmly dressed... in layers.
3. If you're coanchoring exclusive team coverage of ICE STORM 2007, be sure to nod in emphatic agreement with everything your coanchor says, no matter how obvious or inane.
Good tips.
(Did you remember to nod in agreement?)
Not over yet...
I just saw flashes from two big transformer explosions... looked like they out along Northwest Expressway somewhere.
Household status
Those of you reading in Oklahoma already know this, but for those you in other states:
The ice storm turned out to be the worst in state history. Most of the city was without electricity yesterday. The utility company says 7 to ten days to restore all power, but it was much longer than that in 2002 when the storm wasn't as bad. I'm guessing there will still be outlying neighborhoods with no power after Christmas. I expect mine to be back on next week or maybe by Monday the 24th.
I spent the night at a friend's place. The high today is supposed to be in the fifties, so the cats should be okay.
The ice storm turned out to be the worst in state history. Most of the city was without electricity yesterday. The utility company says 7 to ten days to restore all power, but it was much longer than that in 2002 when the storm wasn't as bad. I'm guessing there will still be outlying neighborhoods with no power after Christmas. I expect mine to be back on next week or maybe by Monday the 24th.
I spent the night at a friend's place. The high today is supposed to be in the fifties, so the cats should be okay.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Pleasure and Happiness
I've forgotten where I read this, but the idea of it stuck with me: pleasure and happiness are not the same thing.
In our culture, we've generally adopted the false notion that pleasure leads to happiness. It would be more accurate to say that pleasure distracts us from unhappiness. Pleasure is one of the topical analgesics we use for fast, temporary relief from the reality of our own lives.
There are going to be events and experiences in our lives that cause pleasure. We should neither seek them nor avoid them. The main thing to understand about pleasure is that it is fleeting, and that struggling to keep it coming will eventually lead to a hard crash.
In our culture, we've generally adopted the false notion that pleasure leads to happiness. It would be more accurate to say that pleasure distracts us from unhappiness. Pleasure is one of the topical analgesics we use for fast, temporary relief from the reality of our own lives.
There are going to be events and experiences in our lives that cause pleasure. We should neither seek them nor avoid them. The main thing to understand about pleasure is that it is fleeting, and that struggling to keep it coming will eventually lead to a hard crash.
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Weather update
Tuesday's forecast high has been pushed down to just 35. Maybe the 'winter storm' will be worse than I thought.
I don't know where everyone is tonight...
...but it feels like my usual circle of friends and acquaintances has sort of vanished. It's probably a temporary thing... but the only thing that's constant is change.
Don't know mind
I've been given a very good opportunity to practice it. No more details to come... that's my first step in practicing.
Saturday AM
I have almost nothing to report. Did some laundry and got some old junk out of my car yesterday evening after dinner and the Paseo Gallery Walk.
Bought a small painting yesterday from Gayle Curry.
We have been told to expect a winter storm Sunday and Monday. The high Tuesday is forecast to reach 43, so I don't think I'll need to stock up on provisions for the coming ordeal.
Bought a small painting yesterday from Gayle Curry.
We have been told to expect a winter storm Sunday and Monday. The high Tuesday is forecast to reach 43, so I don't think I'll need to stock up on provisions for the coming ordeal.
Friday, December 07, 2007
Thich Nhat Hahn on HuffPo
"Knowing his role in influencing a more socially and politically relevant Buddhism, I was surprised that his lectures were about everyday mundane relationships -- about open communication between parents and children, about keeping love vibrant and new between husband and wife, about the importance of non-discrimination and mutual understanding in the increasing number of relationships between couples of different religious and cultural backgrounds."
More here.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Among the things I finally got done...
... is replacement of the HVAC blower in the minivan. It died a couple of years ago. I normally can get along without heat and air, but not having the defroster is really inconvenient when winter arrives.
The blower in my Volvo went out about 12 years ago, and I replaced it myself. That was a tedious and frustrating experience, and part of the reason I put off doing it this time. But I found a mechanic who did the whole job for less than $150 parts and labor.
Of course, I had to sit at the Red Cup and do nothing while he worked on it and you can imagine how difficult that was for me.
The blower in my Volvo went out about 12 years ago, and I replaced it myself. That was a tedious and frustrating experience, and part of the reason I put off doing it this time. But I found a mechanic who did the whole job for less than $150 parts and labor.
Of course, I had to sit at the Red Cup and do nothing while he worked on it and you can imagine how difficult that was for me.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Ups and Downs on Wednesday evening
Things are going really well right now, and life is, as I mentioned previously, 99.99% perfect.
Whatever the cause, my depression has been pretty much on hiatus for many weeks now, and the past two or three weeks have been especially good. I've been able to motivate myself to do some things I would previously have put off or avoided – trivial stuff, mostly, which made it easy to delay.
If there is a down side to this, it would be that while all these 'good vibrations' have been happening, I haven't been as mindful as I would like to be about the Buddhist practices of right speech and right thought. I've said some things I wish I had not said – not terrible or hurtful things, but just little snarky things that I feel mildly poison me more than the persons at whom they are directed.
I've also fallen back into my bad habit of over-analyzing certain things. I'm much better at being aware of this as it happens, and the degree of obsessing is a fraction of what it was five or ten years ago, but there's still some habitual behavior present. I wouldn't categorize this as being harmful so much as being counterproductive and a devourer of time.
When I was a kid – maybe ten years old – I was home alone one night and ate, out of boredom, about a two pound bag of BIKE banana caramels. I wasn't hungry, and they didn't even taste that good, but I didn't have anything else to do, so I did that. They made me sick to my stomach and I threw them all up.
It's kind of the same way with over-thinking, over-analyzing and obsession. It's not really that I need to figure these things out, and it's not that pleasant to do it, but I'm bored and I end up filling my time with this stuff. It doesn't make me throw up, but it does make me sort of emotionally queasy.
I just Googled BIKE banana caramels and didn't get a single hit. Maybe they don't make them anymore.
Whatever the cause, my depression has been pretty much on hiatus for many weeks now, and the past two or three weeks have been especially good. I've been able to motivate myself to do some things I would previously have put off or avoided – trivial stuff, mostly, which made it easy to delay.
If there is a down side to this, it would be that while all these 'good vibrations' have been happening, I haven't been as mindful as I would like to be about the Buddhist practices of right speech and right thought. I've said some things I wish I had not said – not terrible or hurtful things, but just little snarky things that I feel mildly poison me more than the persons at whom they are directed.
I've also fallen back into my bad habit of over-analyzing certain things. I'm much better at being aware of this as it happens, and the degree of obsessing is a fraction of what it was five or ten years ago, but there's still some habitual behavior present. I wouldn't categorize this as being harmful so much as being counterproductive and a devourer of time.
When I was a kid – maybe ten years old – I was home alone one night and ate, out of boredom, about a two pound bag of BIKE banana caramels. I wasn't hungry, and they didn't even taste that good, but I didn't have anything else to do, so I did that. They made me sick to my stomach and I threw them all up.
It's kind of the same way with over-thinking, over-analyzing and obsession. It's not really that I need to figure these things out, and it's not that pleasant to do it, but I'm bored and I end up filling my time with this stuff. It doesn't make me throw up, but it does make me sort of emotionally queasy.
I just Googled BIKE banana caramels and didn't get a single hit. Maybe they don't make them anymore.
Self-improvement
"The rules are as follows: Devise a list of 5-10 courses you would take to improve your life. It's more fun to be in classes with friends, so include one class from the person who tagged you that you'd also like to take. Tag five other people."
I was tagged by Nina, so the course I would share with her is her number 6: HOW TO DISENGAGE YOURSELF FROM UNPRODUCTIVE BULLSHIT.
This would basically be a refresher course for me.
My other classes:
Teach your cats to clean house. They're just lying around all day, anyway. Couldn't they roll around and pick up some dust bunnies and take them to the litter box?
Teach your cats to change your motor oil. This is an advanced course, only available to those who have completed 'Teach your cats to clean house.'
How to quit griping and love social networking. Thanks for the add.
That only brings me up to four. But it's hard to learn anything when you're practicing don't-know mind.
Nina tagged a lot of the same people I would have tagged, and my blog circle is rather small.
So, Patrizia, privacy-shattered Erika, Mary, Sonja... your turn.
(Mary, it's only coincidence that every blogger mentioned in this post besides me is female.)
Huckabee's past catches up with him
I am no fan of Mike Huckabee, the GOP presidential candidate from Arkansas.
From the Huffington Post:
Serial rapist Wayne Dumond became a cause celebré among conservatives because one of his several victims was a distant relative of Bill Clinton.
Newly-found documents, which Huckabee has tried to suppress, show more about the information he had at hand about Dumond's background and the potential threat he posed when he decided to score points with the far right by setting Dumond free.
From the Huffington Post:
"As governor of Arkansas, Mike Huckabee aggressively pushed for the early release of a convicted rapist despite being warned by numerous women that the convict had sexually assaulted them or their family members, and would likely strike again. The convict went on to rape and murder at least one other woman."
Serial rapist Wayne Dumond became a cause celebré among conservatives because one of his several victims was a distant relative of Bill Clinton.
Newly-found documents, which Huckabee has tried to suppress, show more about the information he had at hand about Dumond's background and the potential threat he posed when he decided to score points with the far right by setting Dumond free.
Facebook follows you everywhere
From PC World
More here.
"Facebook's controversial Beacon ad system tracks users' off-Facebook activities even if those users are logged off from the social-networking site and have previously declined having their activities on specific external sites broadcast to their Facebook friends, a company spokesman said via e-mail over the weekend."
More here.
Monday, December 03, 2007
another MySpace gripe
As you've probably figured out, I'm not a big MySpace user. But I have been on it frequently over the past week, and I've noticed that the amount of MySpace spam I've gotten has jumped by probably fivefold.
I assume the spammers have found a way to find recent users, as opposed to those who perhaps created an account two years ago and gave up on it a month later, and target their crap at those with recent logins.
I assume the spammers have found a way to find recent users, as opposed to those who perhaps created an account two years ago and gave up on it a month later, and target their crap at those with recent logins.
I haven't watched the debates...
...but judging from the coverage I've seen on the web, I haven't missed much.
Here's a great LA Times article on what's happening.
Here's a great LA Times article on what's happening.
"THE United States is at war in the Middle East and Central Asia, the economy is writhing like a snake with a broken back, oil prices are relentlessly climbing toward $100 a barrel and an increasing number of Americans just can't afford to be sick with anything that won't be treated with aspirin and bed rest.
"So, when CNN brought the Republican presidential candidates together this week for what is loosely termed a "debate," what did the country get but a discussion of immigration, Biblical inerrancy and the propriety of flying the Confederate flag?"
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Non-attachment, commercial art and the Great Pyramid
As some of you know, I did this piece of art for the Trinkets 'n' Baubles Holiday Party at the Red Cup Saturday. The art was used on an 11x17" poster as well as a postcard, which I also laid out.This is a piece of commercial art. It is not about my artistic vision, or my personal statement as an artist. It's about getting people to come to a party, and while I can't say it helped bring people who otherwise would not have come, it doesn't seem to have chased anyone off.
Because it is commercial art, I don't have and cannot afford to have any personal attachment to it. I frequently meet other artists doing commercial work who have gotten very attached to their finished product, even though it really doesn't belong to them.
The person who asked me to do this work asked me to make changes after seeing the first draft. This was the original background for the piece, which was meant to suggest the walls in the 'music area' of the Red Cup. She thought it was a little drab, so I made the change that was reflected in the final piece.The point I want to emphasize here is that commercial art is not 'high art,' whatever that is. Someone wants a change, you make the change. Someone changes your work after your hands are off it, you shrug them off. A lot of the stuff I did for my last full-time job has been changed since I left; I would fully expect my replacement to make changes if he thought they were appropriate, and would assume something was amiss if he didn't.
Now that the Trinkets 'n' Baubles Party is over, all the posters and invitations will go in the trash (except, perhaps, for the few I was asked to sign) and by the time Christmas gets here, no one will have remembered this work.
This is how everything is, so there's no point in getting attached to stuff, no matter how big and important it seems at the moment.
You probably know the Great Pyramid was built as a tomb for a pharaoh. But he's just as dead now as he would have been if they'd put him in a wooden box.
Do you even remember his name?
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Infatuation redux
Has this ever happened to you?
I had a conversation a while back with a woman whom I had found very interesting and attractive for some time. I felt that we had connected on a somewhat deeper level during that chat, and that I'd really like to get to know her better. I was frankly a little euphoric about it for a couple of days.
I decided to bounce this off a female friend for a reality check.
"What made this conversation special?" she asked, and I was immediately enlightened.
Because I couldn't think of a thing that made it special. It was like conversations I've had with dozens of other women, and men as well. All that was different, I suddenly realized, was that I had 'enhanced' my recollection of this particular conversation to help rationalize my attraction to this particular woman.
After I got myself out of 'magical thinking' mode, I realized I'd had a fairly ordinary conversation with her, and that nothing had happened that should have suggested to me some spark of mutual attraction. I had just made it up.
Now, having been brought down to earth, I feel a little disappointed. And I worry that the disappointment will trigger another round of depression.
And on top of all that, I still have this little nagging hope that maybe I've gotten it all wrong and she really is interested in me – and then I get annoyed with myself for having this little sliver of magical thinking still whizzing around in my head.
So, I've now gone through this array of emotions, useless speculation and worry. It didn't accomplish anything, didn't change my life in any way, didn't lead to any result. It was just several days of mental wheel-spinning.
Remember this quote?
This isn't some pie-in-the-sky abstract spirituality. It's a real common sense way to rid yourself of all the shitwheels spinning in your brain to no useful end.
I had a conversation a while back with a woman whom I had found very interesting and attractive for some time. I felt that we had connected on a somewhat deeper level during that chat, and that I'd really like to get to know her better. I was frankly a little euphoric about it for a couple of days.
I decided to bounce this off a female friend for a reality check.
"What made this conversation special?" she asked, and I was immediately enlightened.
Because I couldn't think of a thing that made it special. It was like conversations I've had with dozens of other women, and men as well. All that was different, I suddenly realized, was that I had 'enhanced' my recollection of this particular conversation to help rationalize my attraction to this particular woman.
After I got myself out of 'magical thinking' mode, I realized I'd had a fairly ordinary conversation with her, and that nothing had happened that should have suggested to me some spark of mutual attraction. I had just made it up.
Now, having been brought down to earth, I feel a little disappointed. And I worry that the disappointment will trigger another round of depression.
And on top of all that, I still have this little nagging hope that maybe I've gotten it all wrong and she really is interested in me – and then I get annoyed with myself for having this little sliver of magical thinking still whizzing around in my head.
So, I've now gone through this array of emotions, useless speculation and worry. It didn't accomplish anything, didn't change my life in any way, didn't lead to any result. It was just several days of mental wheel-spinning.
Remember this quote?
Dae-Ju said, "When people are hungry, they eat. Only the outside, the body, is eating. On the inside, they are thinking, and they have desire for money, fame, sex, food, and they feel anger. And so when they are tired, because of these wants, they do not sleep. So, the outside and the inside are different. But when I am hungry, I only eat. When I am tired, I only sleep. I have no thinking, and so I have no inside and no outside."
This isn't some pie-in-the-sky abstract spirituality. It's a real common sense way to rid yourself of all the shitwheels spinning in your brain to no useful end.
No More Mr. Nice Guy
I have always had a problem telling people to fuck off when it was clearly appropriate to tell them to fuck off. Sometimes I end up apologizing instead.
I think this is probably a leftover from childhood when I was obliged to cheerily accept whatever weird alcohol-fueled shit my parents happened to foist on me.
I don't want to even bother with 'power issues' in dealing with other people. I don't have any skill in that regard and usually don't even think about it during interactions. After the fact, when I've bent over backwards to help someone and been told what an asshole I am for having not done even more or having not done it some other way, I find myself asking why I let myself into these situations.
I'd rather just not deal with them at all. And nowadays, I have that choice.
I think this is probably a leftover from childhood when I was obliged to cheerily accept whatever weird alcohol-fueled shit my parents happened to foist on me.
I don't want to even bother with 'power issues' in dealing with other people. I don't have any skill in that regard and usually don't even think about it during interactions. After the fact, when I've bent over backwards to help someone and been told what an asshole I am for having not done even more or having not done it some other way, I find myself asking why I let myself into these situations.
I'd rather just not deal with them at all. And nowadays, I have that choice.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
When I'm hungry, I eat
Some of you have heard me use the expression, "When I'm hungry, I eat, and when I'm tired, I sleep."
Here's the whole story, as told on kwanumzen.com
Here's the whole story, as told on kwanumzen.com
One day, a Sutra Master came and he questioned Zen Master Dae-Ju. "I understand that you have attained Satori. What is Zen?''
Dae-Ju said, "Zen is very easy. It is not difficult at all. When I am hungry, I eat; when I am tired, I sleep.''
The Sutra Master said, "This is doing the same as all people do. Attaining Satori and not attaining are then the same.''
"No, no, people on the outside and on the inside are different.''
The Sutra Master said, ''When I am hungry, I eat. When I am tired, I sleep. Why is the outside different from the inside?"
Dae-Ju said, "When people are hungry, they eat. Only the outside, the body, is eating. On the inside, they are thinking, and they have desire for money, fame, sex, food, and they feel anger. And so when they are tired, because of these wants, they do not sleep. So, the outside and the inside are different. But when I am hungry, I only eat. When I am tired, I only sleep. I have no thinking, and so I have no inside and no outside.''
The Sutra Master bowed respectfully, and became Dae-Ju's student.
What Cory Doctorow said
Read this.
Cory Doctorow writes about social networking (MySpace, Facebook, etc.)
Cory Doctorow writes about social networking (MySpace, Facebook, etc.)
"Facebook is no paragon of virtue. It bears the hallmarks of the kind of pump-and-dump service that sees us as sticky, monetizable eyeballs in need of pimping."
Monday, November 26, 2007
The scarf
Although I don't have a picture that really does it justice, I should mention the fabulous 12-foot long scarf my friend Joanie crocheted and presented to me on Thanksgiving Day.
I had mentioned to her that I have a hard time finding scarves long enough for me, and that I really needed something similar to the scarves Tom Baker wore as Dr. Who. Less than two weeks later, she presented me with this amazing scarf that is more like a narrow blanket.
You can't tell from this picture, of course, but this scarf reaches my ankles.
I had mentioned to her that I have a hard time finding scarves long enough for me, and that I really needed something similar to the scarves Tom Baker wore as Dr. Who. Less than two weeks later, she presented me with this amazing scarf that is more like a narrow blanket.You can't tell from this picture, of course, but this scarf reaches my ankles.
Commitment phobia, part 2
I'll agree I'm relationship-phobic. I'm not sure it's costing me happiness.
Lately, I've been thinking that happiness is not something that should be pursued (no matter what the Declaration of Independence says), but something that should be enjoyed when it happens to come 'round.
Most of my peace has come not from pursuing happiness, but from avoiding, where possible, things that make me unhappy.
Unavoidable things come in life which bring both happiness and unhappiness, and we have to make our peace with both. We can't hide from every setback or misfortune. But I'm not going to stick my hand in boiling water or walk out into rush hour traffic to prove my detachment from pain or discomfort.
And I try not to become 'addicted' to experiences that bring happiness and comfort, although that happens on a small scale almost daily.
Lately, I've been thinking that happiness is not something that should be pursued (no matter what the Declaration of Independence says), but something that should be enjoyed when it happens to come 'round.
Most of my peace has come not from pursuing happiness, but from avoiding, where possible, things that make me unhappy.
Unavoidable things come in life which bring both happiness and unhappiness, and we have to make our peace with both. We can't hide from every setback or misfortune. But I'm not going to stick my hand in boiling water or walk out into rush hour traffic to prove my detachment from pain or discomfort.
And I try not to become 'addicted' to experiences that bring happiness and comfort, although that happens on a small scale almost daily.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Survey says: commitment phobia
"The unexamined life is not worth living," Socrates said.
I know of no better way to follow the path to self-realization than the online web survey.
(Too bad the Socmeister didn't have the Internets back in the day. Instead of drinking hemlock, he could have just cancelled his MySpace page... or died of natural causes waiting for all the %^$#&# ads to load. Hit Aristotle and win a free ringtone!)
Following Nina/Christina's lead, I took the BeliefNet Commitment Phobia Quiz, and here's what it said:
Well, maybe.
Results of previous online surveys:
I'm a Mahayana Buddhist
I'm INTP
I'm depressed
I know of no better way to follow the path to self-realization than the online web survey.
(Too bad the Socmeister didn't have the Internets back in the day. Instead of drinking hemlock, he could have just cancelled his MySpace page... or died of natural causes waiting for all the %^$#&# ads to load. Hit Aristotle and win a free ringtone!)
Following Nina/Christina's lead, I took the BeliefNet Commitment Phobia Quiz, and here's what it said:
You scored 85, on a scale of 30 to 100. Here's how to interpret your score:
75 - 100 Commitment-Phobic: Your fear of relationships is costing you happiness. You may want to take steps to break your pattern.
Well, maybe.
Results of previous online surveys:
I'm a Mahayana Buddhist
I'm INTP
I'm depressed
Sunday evening
I have to say that I've been in a pretty good mood since just before Thanksgiving.
I'm wondering if the fish oil is finally having some effect on my demeanor. I think I wrote previously that the jury is still out on the benefits of fish oil on depression... at least from what I've read on the Internets.
But Tall Ed says it's helped him.
In any event, the past four or five days have been pretty darn good.
I'm wondering if the fish oil is finally having some effect on my demeanor. I think I wrote previously that the jury is still out on the benefits of fish oil on depression... at least from what I've read on the Internets.
But Tall Ed says it's helped him.
In any event, the past four or five days have been pretty darn good.
Another social networking rant
There was an article in Slate a few days ago about how young people no longer use email, preferring to use text messaging and MySpace or Facebook instead.
As I've said before, I don't think MySpace is much more than warmed over America Online.
To get my regular email, I click on mail.app, and after a few seconds pf downloading, there are all my latest messages. With MySpace, it's a different story.
I get my MySpace email by:
1. Clicking on my MySpace bookmark.
2. Waiting for page to load. There's the banner... there are the google ads... there's the outline for the match.com ad with a woman flirting with her monitor, eventually followed by the video clip itself... there are the announcements for MySpace 'events'... finally, when all the ads are loaded and I have my browser back... I can
3. Click on 'home,' wait for more ads to load... there's the dancing mortgage reindeer... and, when I have my browser back,
4. click on 'log in'.
5. Wait for more ads to load. Click on 'inbox.'
And so on. And all during this time, my mail is more or less 'trapped' in MySpace. I don't have local copies. If I cancel MySpace (or if, for some reason, MySpace closes my account), I lose my 'paper trail' of messages.
And as I've said before, MySpace is, from a visual standpoint, an abomination. Cluttered, counterintuitive and just plain ugly. FaceBook is better, I suppose – based on what little I've seen of it.
But I still believe these social networks are basically a fad, just as all-day AOL chat was in the nineties, and eventually they'll go away or evolve into something more usable and sane.
As I've said before, I don't think MySpace is much more than warmed over America Online.
To get my regular email, I click on mail.app, and after a few seconds pf downloading, there are all my latest messages. With MySpace, it's a different story.
I get my MySpace email by:
1. Clicking on my MySpace bookmark.
2. Waiting for page to load. There's the banner... there are the google ads... there's the outline for the match.com ad with a woman flirting with her monitor, eventually followed by the video clip itself... there are the announcements for MySpace 'events'... finally, when all the ads are loaded and I have my browser back... I can
3. Click on 'home,' wait for more ads to load... there's the dancing mortgage reindeer... and, when I have my browser back,
4. click on 'log in'.
5. Wait for more ads to load. Click on 'inbox.'
And so on. And all during this time, my mail is more or less 'trapped' in MySpace. I don't have local copies. If I cancel MySpace (or if, for some reason, MySpace closes my account), I lose my 'paper trail' of messages.
And as I've said before, MySpace is, from a visual standpoint, an abomination. Cluttered, counterintuitive and just plain ugly. FaceBook is better, I suppose – based on what little I've seen of it.
But I still believe these social networks are basically a fad, just as all-day AOL chat was in the nineties, and eventually they'll go away or evolve into something more usable and sane.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Just say "no" to Black Friday
Well, it's too late now, of course, but next year for sure... right?
From SFGate.com:
More here.
I ate lunch at a restaurant with television on Friday and caught a little bit of one cable news network's Black Friday coverage.
While this one of the busiest shopping days of the year, it is also one of the slowest days for real news, which means news operations struggling to fill time between paid commercials are tempted to run what amount to free commercials about the Christmas shopping rush.
One reporter I saw was doing a live report from the aisles of what looked like a Wal-Mart or Target store. The sound was off, so I could only guess at what he was saying. But judging from the graphics full-screened during the report, it was another of those 'What's Hot' lists.
When I was a reporter, I always thought those stories were basically bogus. Some marketing company sends out press releases announcing that a client's product is 'hot,' content-starved news outlets report it as fact, and the reportage makes the press release reality. How many times have you seen one of those 'What's Hot' lists, and you've never even heard of half the stuff on it?
I'm doing my Christmas shopping (what there is of it) online this year.
From SFGate.com:
"It's disgusting when you see people line up in stores drooling to just buy stuff," said Buehlman, 38, who e-mailed about 100 friends and family this year urging them to abstain from buying anything today. "People have such a hard time going inside themselves to fix things, they try to buy stuff to fix things on the outside."
More here.
I ate lunch at a restaurant with television on Friday and caught a little bit of one cable news network's Black Friday coverage.
While this one of the busiest shopping days of the year, it is also one of the slowest days for real news, which means news operations struggling to fill time between paid commercials are tempted to run what amount to free commercials about the Christmas shopping rush.
One reporter I saw was doing a live report from the aisles of what looked like a Wal-Mart or Target store. The sound was off, so I could only guess at what he was saying. But judging from the graphics full-screened during the report, it was another of those 'What's Hot' lists.
When I was a reporter, I always thought those stories were basically bogus. Some marketing company sends out press releases announcing that a client's product is 'hot,' content-starved news outlets report it as fact, and the reportage makes the press release reality. How many times have you seen one of those 'What's Hot' lists, and you've never even heard of half the stuff on it?
I'm doing my Christmas shopping (what there is of it) online this year.
Saturday evening
Okay, a quick rundown of Thanksgiving: dinner at a friend's home with a few Red Cup friends, which consumed the afternoon and early evening.
Later... sitting by the firepit at Sauced! with some of those same friends and others. The temperature had dropped below freezing, but we were all bundled up and warm in front of the fire Ed built for us.
For the moment, at least, my life has calm and serenity, which are the things I most sought.
Later... sitting by the firepit at Sauced! with some of those same friends and others. The temperature had dropped below freezing, but we were all bundled up and warm in front of the fire Ed built for us.
For the moment, at least, my life has calm and serenity, which are the things I most sought.
Saturday morning
Well, it's two days since Thanksgiving and I still haven't written about it as I promised to.
I haven't been much in the mood to blog. Which is not to say I'm depressed; quite the opposite, actually. Everything's fine. But I just want a mini-vacation from blogging and computer stuff in general.
I haven't been much in the mood to blog. Which is not to say I'm depressed; quite the opposite, actually. Everything's fine. But I just want a mini-vacation from blogging and computer stuff in general.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Monday, November 19, 2007
What I should be doing..
...is cleaning up my turd-spangled back porch/laundry room. That's where the litter boxes are, but I guess the cats aren't always motivated to climb in them. They think the general vicinity is close enough.
Not doin' nothin, day 109
I've spent another day not doing much of anything except being an unmotivated layabout.
The zen tradition is that if you don't work, you don't eat. Well, I'm not working, or at least not working very much, but I am eating. Make of that what you will, or better yet, make nothing at all of it. Have no concept of making something of it. Don't even think 'it is what it is.'
I feel very fortunate to be in this space. I probably shouldn't have any feeling about it at all, at least not in terms of it being 'fortunate' or 'unfortunate.'
No concept of anything. No concept of even having or not having a concept.
Waaaugh.
The zen tradition is that if you don't work, you don't eat. Well, I'm not working, or at least not working very much, but I am eating. Make of that what you will, or better yet, make nothing at all of it. Have no concept of making something of it. Don't even think 'it is what it is.'
I feel very fortunate to be in this space. I probably shouldn't have any feeling about it at all, at least not in terms of it being 'fortunate' or 'unfortunate.'
No concept of anything. No concept of even having or not having a concept.
Waaaugh.
Team Knight Rider update
I forgot to mention soartstar, who gave me a ride to pick up the battery at the auto parts store.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Just like Team Knight Rider, only with a minivan
Replaced the battery and a badly corroded cable terminal, and the minivan is again ready for thrilling fast-paced adventures.
Much thanks to Tony O for loaning me his socket set and to Randy S for figuring out how to get the old battery out of the engine well. (There was a bracket on the bottom I had forgotten about.)
Thanks to Tish for offering to send her mechanic to help me and to Lauren and Cristin for stopping to offer aid.
It's a good life in the bubble.
Much thanks to Tony O for loaning me his socket set and to Randy S for figuring out how to get the old battery out of the engine well. (There was a bracket on the bottom I had forgotten about.)
Thanks to Tish for offering to send her mechanic to help me and to Lauren and Cristin for stopping to offer aid.
It's a good life in the bubble.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Saturday evening
Woops... the minivan died tonight at the Red Cup. Stuck the key in the ignition and zip... nothing. The little alarm buzzer beeped feebly, but that was all. No lights, no nothing. I hope it's just a dead battery. This would have to happen on Saturday night. I can ride the bike tomorrow, no problem there. But I guess I'll have to wait until Monday to get the car looked at.
When I was in my twenties, car problems were always a big deal. I didn't have a lot of money, so even minor repairs were a burden. I think about that when I see some of the younger Red Cup regulars struggling with old beaters.
And I drove maybe sixty miles a day just on routine business, so being without a car was huge problem.
And there was a certain level of panic that set in when the car was out of commission. A car, after all, equals freedom. Without it, you're a prisoner in your own neighborhood.
Nowadays I probably don't drive sixty miles in two weeks. Everything I need to do is within bicycle distance, and a couple of my friends - guys my age - use a bicycle most or all the time. I'm a prisoner in my own neighborhood by choice.
As I think about it, it's really crazy that we became so dependent on the automobile. It's expensive, immensely complicated, requires constant maintenance, is loud, smells bad, and uses most of the energy it consumes just hauling itself around. When was the last time I hauled something so big I needed a minivan to move it?
Well, just Friday evening, as a matter of fact, when I helped someone get a big bag of beanbag chair stuffing back to her house because her wheels were in the shop.
But by and large, I can get along without it these days, and I'm glad to be able to do so.
When I was in my twenties, car problems were always a big deal. I didn't have a lot of money, so even minor repairs were a burden. I think about that when I see some of the younger Red Cup regulars struggling with old beaters.
And I drove maybe sixty miles a day just on routine business, so being without a car was huge problem.
And there was a certain level of panic that set in when the car was out of commission. A car, after all, equals freedom. Without it, you're a prisoner in your own neighborhood.
Nowadays I probably don't drive sixty miles in two weeks. Everything I need to do is within bicycle distance, and a couple of my friends - guys my age - use a bicycle most or all the time. I'm a prisoner in my own neighborhood by choice.
As I think about it, it's really crazy that we became so dependent on the automobile. It's expensive, immensely complicated, requires constant maintenance, is loud, smells bad, and uses most of the energy it consumes just hauling itself around. When was the last time I hauled something so big I needed a minivan to move it?
Well, just Friday evening, as a matter of fact, when I helped someone get a big bag of beanbag chair stuffing back to her house because her wheels were in the shop.
But by and large, I can get along without it these days, and I'm glad to be able to do so.
Friday, November 16, 2007
My Shrinking Space
I've been sleeping on a futon in the dining room for more than a year now. I have a bedroom with a very nice queen-size bed, but it began to feel alien and unwelcoming to me. I didn't like being in there. Eventually I let it fill up with old clothes and junk and then just closed the door. The walls in that room are pink. Maybe if I painted it it would feel more comfortable.
I have a back bedroom that is also full of old clothes, old books and stuff from my mother's house. I think it's pink, too... I don't recall without going back there. But I never go back there, either. I am down to living in my den and dining room, and if I could consolidate that, I could live in just one room.
I obviously have too much stuff. And the amount of personal space I need is shrinking with my sense of self. If there is no self, after all, who is it that needs this space?
I have a back bedroom that is also full of old clothes, old books and stuff from my mother's house. I think it's pink, too... I don't recall without going back there. But I never go back there, either. I am down to living in my den and dining room, and if I could consolidate that, I could live in just one room.
I obviously have too much stuff. And the amount of personal space I need is shrinking with my sense of self. If there is no self, after all, who is it that needs this space?
Cultivating Stillness
The book is actually called Cultivating Stillness.
And instead of Medicine Park, maybe I should move to Washington state.
And instead of Medicine Park, maybe I should move to Washington state.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Thursday update
Freelance projects are out of the pipe and done, thank heaven.
Started trying to read a book which I think is called The Art of Stillness. It's an old – I guess ancient – Taoist text, and not very easy going.
Started trying to read a book which I think is called The Art of Stillness. It's an old – I guess ancient – Taoist text, and not very easy going.
Thursday afternoon
I have two freelance projects in the pipeline, which is two more than I'd prefer.
Anybody here ever been to Medicine Park? I wonder what the cost of living is like there.
Anybody here ever been to Medicine Park? I wonder what the cost of living is like there.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
More boxes
Online OS and political debates
Web 2.0
The way my hair looks on any given morning
One by one, the unimportant things drop off the radar
Web 2.0
The way my hair looks on any given morning
One by one, the unimportant things drop off the radar
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
The empty boxes
That item I posted a couple of days ago about the empty boxes was just the product of a wandering mind – I didn't mean for it to be a meditative exercise.
But I think I stumbled onto something useful with that. For the past couple of days, when I find myself perturbed or anxious about something, I imagine that thing as a box, and I open it. Of course, there's nothing inside, except occasionally another box, which is empty.
But I think I stumbled onto something useful with that. For the past couple of days, when I find myself perturbed or anxious about something, I imagine that thing as a box, and I open it. Of course, there's nothing inside, except occasionally another box, which is empty.
From the first, not a thing is
Once I understood the full impact of that statement (from the sixth ancestor, Hui-Neng) it was the best news I'd had in years. Maybe the best news ever.
Monday, November 12, 2007
The other 3D Danny
If you were in Oklahoma City in the late fifties or early sixties, you no doubt remember 3D Danny on WKY-TV, portrayed by Danny Williams.
The picture at right, though, is not him.
Maybe everyone else already knew this, but I just discovered this week that there was another 3D Danny, whose Space Science Center was in the studios of WTVT in Tampa, FL.
As you can tell from the photo, the name was no coincidence.
You can find out more about the other 3D Danny here.
And the real 3D Danny has a web page here.
The picture at right, though, is not him.Maybe everyone else already knew this, but I just discovered this week that there was another 3D Danny, whose Space Science Center was in the studios of WTVT in Tampa, FL.
As you can tell from the photo, the name was no coincidence.
You can find out more about the other 3D Danny here.
And the real 3D Danny has a web page here.
After that...
After the previous post, I went back to bed and had another dream.
In this dream, there were three of us reporters hanging around in the corridor of a government building. It might have been the state capitol or the federal courthouse. The three of us were me, Gan Matthews and somebody I didn't recognize. We were waiting for a news conference to start.
To pass the time, Gan began singing the second stanza of Surfin' Bird by The Trashmen, and the other guy and I joined in:
And then I woke up and went to the Red Cup.
In this dream, there were three of us reporters hanging around in the corridor of a government building. It might have been the state capitol or the federal courthouse. The three of us were me, Gan Matthews and somebody I didn't recognize. We were waiting for a news conference to start.
To pass the time, Gan began singing the second stanza of Surfin' Bird by The Trashmen, and the other guy and I joined in:
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Oom-oom-oom-oom-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, papa-oom-oom-oom
Oom-ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-a-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, ooma-mow-mow
Papa-oom-oom-oom-oom-ooma-mow-mow
Oom-oom-oom-oom-ooma-mow-mow
Ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-mow, ooma-mow-mow
Well don't you know about the bird?
Well, everybody knows that the bird is the word!
A-well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word
And then I woke up and went to the Red Cup.
Man the barricades!
I just woke up from another bizarre and unpleasant dream about my former career. These come so frequently - one about every two weeks - that I think there must be some unresolved issues.
Make no mistake: I consider that 25 years of my life to be an almost complete waste of mental, emotional and physical energy. If I took all the positive memories I hold from that time of my life and placed them end to end, they might cover about eighteen months. The rest was crap.
I think part of the reason I have all these dreams even after nine years away from that life is because I've built a lot of barricades against those memories during my waking hours. I don't want to remember that stuff or think about it.
As I lay in bed thinking about this, it occurred to me I have other barricades. I let that wisteria tree grow until it covered half the front of my house so it could serve as a physical barrier against seeing or being seen by neighbors and passers-by.
I have read and have been told that people who accumulate clutter the way I do use it as a barricade to keep other people away. I'm not 100% sure this is true in my case, but damn, I do like my privacy.
I have sometimes dozed off when surrounded by eight or nine people carrying on three or four simultaneous conversations at the Red Cup. I can feel myself getting sleepy as soon as the din reaches a certain level. This is another barricade to shut out the sensory overload.
I sometimes daydream about going Cold Mountain and just living somewhere almost isolated from society.
From a Buddhist perspective, I'm not sure how useful or healthy these barricades are. There are some contemporary writers who talk about being soft, open and accepting, but I'm not sure I buy that.
We live, like it or not, in a culture that tends to encourage and celebrate predatory behavior. It's only the most extreme cases that evoke our dismay and contempt; our reaction to most everything else ranges from mild amusement to outright admiration. So you have to watch your step out there... guard your heart and count your change.
I've posted here before about how I've cut myself off from mass media. I built a barricade to protect myself from the barrage of marketing and advertising messages, and a big part of the reason I can live so simply now is that I don't expose myself to messages telling me I'd be a lot happier if I bought a SUV or bleached my teeth or got botox or wore Tommy. But it's another barricade.
I've also posted about being 'emotionally unavailable.' This is also a barricade, and one I've consciously built to protect my own sanity and stability. I won't go into that again - more than enough has been said previously.
Even my current profile pic sort of says, "stay the fuck away from me." I could have used a smiling full-face picture shot on a sunny day, but this one more accurately reflects my state of mind.
I don't know how zen or taoist it is to throw up coils of razor wire all around msyelf, but I'll tell you this: I don't know how I would have lasted this long without them.
Make no mistake: I consider that 25 years of my life to be an almost complete waste of mental, emotional and physical energy. If I took all the positive memories I hold from that time of my life and placed them end to end, they might cover about eighteen months. The rest was crap.
I think part of the reason I have all these dreams even after nine years away from that life is because I've built a lot of barricades against those memories during my waking hours. I don't want to remember that stuff or think about it.
As I lay in bed thinking about this, it occurred to me I have other barricades. I let that wisteria tree grow until it covered half the front of my house so it could serve as a physical barrier against seeing or being seen by neighbors and passers-by.
I have read and have been told that people who accumulate clutter the way I do use it as a barricade to keep other people away. I'm not 100% sure this is true in my case, but damn, I do like my privacy.
I have sometimes dozed off when surrounded by eight or nine people carrying on three or four simultaneous conversations at the Red Cup. I can feel myself getting sleepy as soon as the din reaches a certain level. This is another barricade to shut out the sensory overload.
I sometimes daydream about going Cold Mountain and just living somewhere almost isolated from society.
From a Buddhist perspective, I'm not sure how useful or healthy these barricades are. There are some contemporary writers who talk about being soft, open and accepting, but I'm not sure I buy that.
We live, like it or not, in a culture that tends to encourage and celebrate predatory behavior. It's only the most extreme cases that evoke our dismay and contempt; our reaction to most everything else ranges from mild amusement to outright admiration. So you have to watch your step out there... guard your heart and count your change.
I've posted here before about how I've cut myself off from mass media. I built a barricade to protect myself from the barrage of marketing and advertising messages, and a big part of the reason I can live so simply now is that I don't expose myself to messages telling me I'd be a lot happier if I bought a SUV or bleached my teeth or got botox or wore Tommy. But it's another barricade.
I've also posted about being 'emotionally unavailable.' This is also a barricade, and one I've consciously built to protect my own sanity and stability. I won't go into that again - more than enough has been said previously.Even my current profile pic sort of says, "stay the fuck away from me." I could have used a smiling full-face picture shot on a sunny day, but this one more accurately reflects my state of mind.
I don't know how zen or taoist it is to throw up coils of razor wire all around msyelf, but I'll tell you this: I don't know how I would have lasted this long without them.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
But is it art?
Believer Magazine interviews art critic Dave Hickey.
I'm not an artist, except in a can-you-redo-this-in-Helvetica-by-noon-Wednesday sense, but others may find solace, outrage or simply confusion in this interview.
"In twenty years we’ve gone from a totally academicized art world to a totally commercialized art world, and in neither case is criticism a function. We’re all supposed to be positive about art. Nobody plays defense! I mean, my job, to a certain extent, is to be in the net. My job is to mow stuff down."
I'm not an artist, except in a can-you-redo-this-in-Helvetica-by-noon-Wednesday sense, but others may find solace, outrage or simply confusion in this interview.
Mmmmm... pancakes
If you went to a fast food place and got dinner, then took it home and found only an empty box, you'd probably be annoyed. Maybe you'd make it a point never to go back to that place.
But we are surrounded with piles of empty boxes, and it often never occurs to us stop acquiring them. In fact, we seldom even look in our boxes to see if there's anything in them.
Here's the consumerism box: empty.
The capitalism box: empty.
The socialism box: empty.
The 'Am I hot or not?' box: empty.
The career goals box: empty.
The self-esteem box: empty.
The righteous indignation box: empty.
The religion box: empty.
The 'What's in all these other boxes?' box: empty.
Eventually, you'll discover every box is empty. So then what?
For me, the answer is, "Have some pancakes."
But what about the pancake box? Empty, of course.
So, if the pancake box is empty, how am I going to get pancakes?
I just go up to the counter and ask for them, and they bring them out to me.
"Wait," you may say. "How can the pancake box be empty if you're eating pancakes?"
Open your philosophical conundrum box and see what's in it.
But we are surrounded with piles of empty boxes, and it often never occurs to us stop acquiring them. In fact, we seldom even look in our boxes to see if there's anything in them.
Here's the consumerism box: empty.
The capitalism box: empty.
The socialism box: empty.
The 'Am I hot or not?' box: empty.
The career goals box: empty.
The self-esteem box: empty.
The righteous indignation box: empty.
The religion box: empty.
The 'What's in all these other boxes?' box: empty.
Eventually, you'll discover every box is empty. So then what?
For me, the answer is, "Have some pancakes."
But what about the pancake box? Empty, of course.
So, if the pancake box is empty, how am I going to get pancakes?
I just go up to the counter and ask for them, and they bring them out to me.
"Wait," you may say. "How can the pancake box be empty if you're eating pancakes?"
Open your philosophical conundrum box and see what's in it.
Why are women always playing with my hair?
I raised this question this afternoon with a couple of female friends. There's nothing particularly special about my hair.
One friend told me it's because I'm 'cuddly.'
This was not the goal I set for myself, frankly. I've been trying to seethe with raw, barely contained animal menace.
Apparently it's not working.
One friend told me it's because I'm 'cuddly.'
This was not the goal I set for myself, frankly. I've been trying to seethe with raw, barely contained animal menace.
Apparently it's not working.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Friday, November 09, 2007
Angst delay
I know I'm past due for posting some long angsty philosophical thing. I'm just low on angst right now, what with getting the house painted and all.
Someone broke off one of my cactus plants, and I was pretty annoyed about that, but then I remembered this, which applies to cactus as well.
Someone broke off one of my cactus plants, and I was pretty annoyed about that, but then I remembered this, which applies to cactus as well.
Questions to snopes.com
You probably already know that snopes.com is the Internet clearing house for urban legends – some of which are true, some of which are not.
Here is a page of questions submitted to snopes which they consider 'unanswerable.'
Among them:
Here is a page of questions submitted to snopes which they consider 'unanswerable.'
Among them:
They say that if a person has a pet cat and dies, if the person's body is not found fairly soon after death, the cat, having not been fed, will become ravenously hungry and eat the dead person's face off— JUST the face!
Is this true? My cat often looks me in the face. I used to think he was just being friendly. Now I know he's just sizing me up, like a chef at a butcher shop, waiting for "the big day". Since hearing this rumor, every time my cat licks his chops it gives me the willies!
Is some one can tell me how to read expire date on corona beer box/bottle. code I have on box is DC08C088. What this mean. reply me ASAP.
Can people see into your house if it's darker in your house than it is outside? When I look around at other houses that don't have lights on, I see darkness, a reflection or only what is immediately in front of the window (curtains, plants, etc.). As a result, I tend to act as though no one can see what I'm doing inside as long as the lights are off and there is no other source of light illuminating me. My wife, however, is often appalled by this behavior. Should she be appalled, or am I correct?
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Long hair or short
You've probably noticed I've been letting my hair grow out again.
I've gone from shoulder-length to having my head shaved over the past seven years, with several lengths in between. I don't know if I'll let it get this long again:
But I might.
I've gone from shoulder-length to having my head shaved over the past seven years, with several lengths in between. I don't know if I'll let it get this long again:
But I might.
Come on Fido... let's go for a ride.
I don't know what an immobilizer chip is, but apparently you shouldn't let your dog eat it.
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
More than you ever wanted to know about Benny Lava
The two people in the video are not the singers.
She is Jayasheel.
He is Prabhu Deva.
A hard-to-follow translation of the lyrics here.
Another blogger parses the original Tamil lyrics for phonetic similarities to English. (The 'I want to swim in his beeeeeeejaaayyyy" line isn't even someone singing.)
Good lord... what am I doing with my life?
She is Jayasheel.
He is Prabhu Deva.
A hard-to-follow translation of the lyrics here.
Another blogger parses the original Tamil lyrics for phonetic similarities to English. (The 'I want to swim in his beeeeeeejaaayyyy" line isn't even someone singing.)
Good lord... what am I doing with my life?
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Now poop on them, Oliver
Having finished my daily rounds, I return to my Fortress of Solitude to enjoy music of faraway lands.
Don't laugh. This makes more sense than anything by America.
And the female lead singer in this video is adorable.
Except that she sings like a chipmunk.
For that matter, so does he.
How do they do that?
Don't laugh. This makes more sense than anything by America.
And the female lead singer in this video is adorable.
Except that she sings like a chipmunk.
For that matter, so does he.
How do they do that?
Afternoon update
I continue my efforts from another undisclosed location.
Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty.
Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty.
Vader in love redux
It's been awhile since I overanalyzed the hell out of something, and I've got a few free minutes in my otherwise busy schedule, so I'm going to write some more about the 'Darth Vader in Love' skit.
There's a lot of stuff going on here, and what makes it funny, I think – at least for men – is the way it all happens 'according to script.'
Although this starts off with some Mel Brooks-level humor – Vader infatuated with the 'Sith chick' Commander Larkin in pink hemlet and armor – it quickly moves to more sophisticated territory. Vader, perhaps pop culture's number one control freak, suddenly finds himself in a situation over which he has absolutely no control. Not only has he lost control of external events, he's lost control of himself, which for him is far worse.
One of the things you've picked up on if you've read my favorite book, Alan Watts' The Wisdom of Insecurity or anything by Pema Chödrön, is that we don't have control over anything, when you get right down to it, and it's better to learn to live with the shifting sands of uncertainty than to futilely try to find refuge in fortresses that ultimately can't defend us from reality.
So here's Vader with a 'teachable moment,' but no one there to teach him. He's hanging over the abyss of what is fundamentally the mere biochemical processes of his own brain, and it's funny to any of us who have had similar experiences. (Some of us, though, remain blithely unaware of such processes and plow forward regardless of possible consequences. Even Darth Vader wouldn't offer the Prime Minister of Germany a free backrub at a formal meeting of an economic summit.)
An enlightened Vader would have sensed his attraction, recognized it for it what it was, remembered that there is no 'Vader,' no 'Commander Larkin,' and that the Force that can be named is not the true Force – and he would have gone on with the business at hand of torturing the captured rebel.
So we laugh at Vader's floundering around because it looks so much like us.
And then there's the birthday party scene, and here's where Commander Larkin reveals the inevitable previously-undisclosed boyfriend. Of course, she waits until she's got Vader in a room full of people and has given him the gift before dropping the 'Chris bomb' on him.
More typically, 'Chris' would have been the ne'er-do-well heir to the Harkonnen Spice Fortune back on Arrakis, but since it's pretty hard to top a Sith lord in a 'fabulously wealthy bad boy' contest, the writers counter-programmed with an IT geek.
Clearly Larkin has figured out Lord Vader is on the make and has timed the counterstrike for maximum embarrassment and dicomfiture, not to mention drama. Again, Lord Vader: no Darth, no Larkin, no Chris, no drama. Detach and move on, dude.
Anyway, that's why it's funny.
To me, anyway.
Not that anything like this has ever happened to me. I'm just talking in the abstract, of course.
There's a lot of stuff going on here, and what makes it funny, I think – at least for men – is the way it all happens 'according to script.'
Although this starts off with some Mel Brooks-level humor – Vader infatuated with the 'Sith chick' Commander Larkin in pink hemlet and armor – it quickly moves to more sophisticated territory. Vader, perhaps pop culture's number one control freak, suddenly finds himself in a situation over which he has absolutely no control. Not only has he lost control of external events, he's lost control of himself, which for him is far worse.
One of the things you've picked up on if you've read my favorite book, Alan Watts' The Wisdom of Insecurity or anything by Pema Chödrön, is that we don't have control over anything, when you get right down to it, and it's better to learn to live with the shifting sands of uncertainty than to futilely try to find refuge in fortresses that ultimately can't defend us from reality.
So here's Vader with a 'teachable moment,' but no one there to teach him. He's hanging over the abyss of what is fundamentally the mere biochemical processes of his own brain, and it's funny to any of us who have had similar experiences. (Some of us, though, remain blithely unaware of such processes and plow forward regardless of possible consequences. Even Darth Vader wouldn't offer the Prime Minister of Germany a free backrub at a formal meeting of an economic summit.)
An enlightened Vader would have sensed his attraction, recognized it for it what it was, remembered that there is no 'Vader,' no 'Commander Larkin,' and that the Force that can be named is not the true Force – and he would have gone on with the business at hand of torturing the captured rebel.
So we laugh at Vader's floundering around because it looks so much like us.
And then there's the birthday party scene, and here's where Commander Larkin reveals the inevitable previously-undisclosed boyfriend. Of course, she waits until she's got Vader in a room full of people and has given him the gift before dropping the 'Chris bomb' on him.
More typically, 'Chris' would have been the ne'er-do-well heir to the Harkonnen Spice Fortune back on Arrakis, but since it's pretty hard to top a Sith lord in a 'fabulously wealthy bad boy' contest, the writers counter-programmed with an IT geek.
Clearly Larkin has figured out Lord Vader is on the make and has timed the counterstrike for maximum embarrassment and dicomfiture, not to mention drama. Again, Lord Vader: no Darth, no Larkin, no Chris, no drama. Detach and move on, dude.
Anyway, that's why it's funny.
To me, anyway.
Not that anything like this has ever happened to me. I'm just talking in the abstract, of course.
House painting
I'm having the exterior of the house painted this week.
This will be a top-to-bottom job with an all-new paint scheme. Somewhere I have some pics of the house with its current paint scheme, but at the moment I can't find them. The paint scheme, done by the previous owners, is a cool gray base with white and teal/aqua accents. Which is okay, I guess, but not authentic bungalow colors. And it gives the house a kind of feminine, dollhouse look – hardly appropriate for a rugged, two-fisted minivan owner like myself.
The new paint scheme is a sort of dark taupe with dark green and dark red/brown trim.
This was done more out of necessity than vanity. The white trim was flaking off everywhere, and the scraping lifted quite a bit of the gray as well. But now that the process is under way, I'm developing a certain attachment to the outcome. I'm pretty excited about it.
This will be a top-to-bottom job with an all-new paint scheme. Somewhere I have some pics of the house with its current paint scheme, but at the moment I can't find them. The paint scheme, done by the previous owners, is a cool gray base with white and teal/aqua accents. Which is okay, I guess, but not authentic bungalow colors. And it gives the house a kind of feminine, dollhouse look – hardly appropriate for a rugged, two-fisted minivan owner like myself.
The new paint scheme is a sort of dark taupe with dark green and dark red/brown trim.
This was done more out of necessity than vanity. The white trim was flaking off everywhere, and the scraping lifted quite a bit of the gray as well. But now that the process is under way, I'm developing a certain attachment to the outcome. I'm pretty excited about it.
Monday, November 05, 2007
Another day in which I did almost nothing
I spent the entire day, from about 9 am to about 6 pm, shuttling between hangouts. I did some art – well, sort of art – along the way, which I will post here once everyone's cool with it.
And then we are made foolish
Last month I posted this item about infatuation.
The matter at hand was the infatuation with 'sense objects,' which includes all the tangible items, feelings and desires that are part of 'self.'
Generally, though, we use the word infatuation to mean romantic or sexual fascination, as exhibited in this skit blogblah! first posted from YouTube a few days ago:
When I first saw this on John's blog, I wondered if women would realize what a dead-on sendup this is of the way men deal with infatuation (well, except maybe for the drunken dialing bit at the end – I know it happens but I was never prone to it).
It's a gag, of course, but what makes it funny is that it's such a perfect representation of infatuation behavior. And even a customer as cold-blooded as Darth Vader can be made foolish by it.
The clip is from the BBC's "Peter Serafinowicz Show," by thw way.
The matter at hand was the infatuation with 'sense objects,' which includes all the tangible items, feelings and desires that are part of 'self.'
Generally, though, we use the word infatuation to mean romantic or sexual fascination, as exhibited in this skit blogblah! first posted from YouTube a few days ago:
When I first saw this on John's blog, I wondered if women would realize what a dead-on sendup this is of the way men deal with infatuation (well, except maybe for the drunken dialing bit at the end – I know it happens but I was never prone to it).
It's a gag, of course, but what makes it funny is that it's such a perfect representation of infatuation behavior. And even a customer as cold-blooded as Darth Vader can be made foolish by it.
The clip is from the BBC's "Peter Serafinowicz Show," by thw way.
Sunday, November 04, 2007
A day in which I did almost nothing.
I did whack on the wisteria tree a little and cleared the last of the dangling branches.
Beyond that, I arrived at the Red Cup at 9:30, where the first words spoken to me (shouted from across the room, actually) were: "Are you circumcised?"
From there to Sauced! around noon, from there to Galileo around 1:30, from there back to Sauced! around 4:30-ish, and from there back home around 6:30-ish.
Beyond that, I arrived at the Red Cup at 9:30, where the first words spoken to me (shouted from across the room, actually) were: "Are you circumcised?"
From there to Sauced! around noon, from there to Galileo around 1:30, from there back to Sauced! around 4:30-ish, and from there back home around 6:30-ish.
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Tourist visits to US fall since 9/11
The drop in the value of the dollar makes it cheaper to visit the U.S.
Even so, fewer people want to.
Of course, they're all a bunch of damn foreigners, so who cares, right?
Even so, fewer people want to.
Of course, they're all a bunch of damn foreigners, so who cares, right?
Even my cats have cat hair on them
I picked up one of the cats the other day and he was covered with cat hair. I mean other cats' hair.
It's everywhere.
It's everywhere.
Father forgive me, for I have sinned
Despite my earlier pledge to give such things up, I again wandered on to a politically-oriented discussion board and told a couple of clueless Bush-worshipping troglodytes that I thought they should thoughtfully reconsider their positions after they pulled their little pinheads out of their pimply right-wing asses.
Despite the title of this post, I don't believe in 'sin' – at least not the kind of 'sin' that deprives me of fellowship with God and the Republican National Committee and increases my risk that when the rapture comes and all the concealed carry permit holders are carried up directly into heaven, I'll be left behind.
The Buddha would certainly not rage angrily and sardonically against people who disagreed with him, even if they were slobbering ignorami. To angrily dispute with such cretins reinforces the false notions of self and dualism – I am, after all, only arguing with myself, since we are all one.
But other parts of me are such crazy fucking morons!
No more political discussions for me. I mean it.
Despite the title of this post, I don't believe in 'sin' – at least not the kind of 'sin' that deprives me of fellowship with God and the Republican National Committee and increases my risk that when the rapture comes and all the concealed carry permit holders are carried up directly into heaven, I'll be left behind.
The Buddha would certainly not rage angrily and sardonically against people who disagreed with him, even if they were slobbering ignorami. To angrily dispute with such cretins reinforces the false notions of self and dualism – I am, after all, only arguing with myself, since we are all one.
But other parts of me are such crazy fucking morons!
No more political discussions for me. I mean it.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Cat DNA decoded
Now we're getting somewhere: researchers decode the DNA of a house cat.
Let me know when they isolate the gene for shitting on the dining room floor.
Let me know when they isolate the gene for shitting on the dining room floor.
Washoe: dead at 42
Washoe the chimpanzee, who lived in Norman during much of the 1970's, is dead.
More at msnbc.com
I met Washoe and the other sign-language chimps – Tatu, Loulis and Dar – in the early 80's when I went to Ellensburg, WA for a story on what had been happening with the chimps since leaving Oklahoma.
More at msnbc.com
I met Washoe and the other sign-language chimps – Tatu, Loulis and Dar – in the early 80's when I went to Ellensburg, WA for a story on what had been happening with the chimps since leaving Oklahoma.
Another dream...
I dreamt that Abraham Lincoln was still alive, a 190-something-year-old ex-president still living in Washington, DC, revered as a national treasure.
But honest Abe is ill and close to death. In the meantime, the US teeters on the brink of what seems like an inevitable nuclear exchange with jihadists.
Against this backdrop, I am on my way to someone's house to deliver a loaf of bread or some other household staple, and my goal is to get there before Lincoln dies and the bombs start arriving.
I'm headed down the street, constantly keeping an eye out for places to hide in case of the worst. Suddenly the sky lights up and a I feel a wave of warmth coming from behind me. But it doesn't get any worse than that, so I decide to keep going.
The dream jumps forward to another location. It's some kind of building designed to accommodate a lot of people, like a school or a convention center. There's some sort of event going on, but there aren't a lot of people there.
I'm hungry. There's something to eat, but it doesn't look very appetizing – whatever it is – and I'm trying to figure out how to get a steak and potato when I wake up.
But honest Abe is ill and close to death. In the meantime, the US teeters on the brink of what seems like an inevitable nuclear exchange with jihadists.
Against this backdrop, I am on my way to someone's house to deliver a loaf of bread or some other household staple, and my goal is to get there before Lincoln dies and the bombs start arriving.
I'm headed down the street, constantly keeping an eye out for places to hide in case of the worst. Suddenly the sky lights up and a I feel a wave of warmth coming from behind me. But it doesn't get any worse than that, so I decide to keep going.
The dream jumps forward to another location. It's some kind of building designed to accommodate a lot of people, like a school or a convention center. There's some sort of event going on, but there aren't a lot of people there.
I'm hungry. There's something to eat, but it doesn't look very appetizing – whatever it is – and I'm trying to figure out how to get a steak and potato when I wake up.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
I am not immune...
...to infatuation, by the way.
Just in case you were wondering.
But I'm still emotionally unavailable and covered with cat hair, so the point is largely moot.
Just in case you were wondering.
But I'm still emotionally unavailable and covered with cat hair, so the point is largely moot.
More non-attachment
One of the best things for me about non-attachment is not having to worry about things so much. Developing non-attachment in regards to a certain area or thing is like marking an item off your 'to-do' list.
(Well, that's an assumption on my part. I practice non-attachment to 'to-do' lists, and was doing so even when I was a Southern Baptist.)
Most of my attachment manifested itself in one of three ways: the desire to 'take care' of someone, i.e., codependence (and not to be confused with compassion); the desire to own something; or pointless worry about something. As I've mentioned before, I think all of these are actually symptoms of some other problem, which is probably just ego (not egomania, or egocentrism, but simply the presence of ego).
I have profoundly simplified my life just by getting rid of attachments, and when I uncover another one, I'm grateful for the opportunity to simplify even further.
I used to wonder how people could stand to live in the relatively primitive conditions of rural communes. Not that I have any intention of doing it, but I can see now why it was attractive.
(Well, that's an assumption on my part. I practice non-attachment to 'to-do' lists, and was doing so even when I was a Southern Baptist.)
Most of my attachment manifested itself in one of three ways: the desire to 'take care' of someone, i.e., codependence (and not to be confused with compassion); the desire to own something; or pointless worry about something. As I've mentioned before, I think all of these are actually symptoms of some other problem, which is probably just ego (not egomania, or egocentrism, but simply the presence of ego).
I have profoundly simplified my life just by getting rid of attachments, and when I uncover another one, I'm grateful for the opportunity to simplify even further.
I used to wonder how people could stand to live in the relatively primitive conditions of rural communes. Not that I have any intention of doing it, but I can see now why it was attractive.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Non-attachment vs reversed attachment
Because I don't know what else to call it.
Let's say, for example (since it's a pet issue for me) someone decided he's going to detach himself from, or practice non-attachment to, material possessions. That's an admirable goal. But what if, instead of reaching non-attachment to material possessions, this person just flips his attachment on its head and he becomes attached to not having anything? That's probably preferable to being attached to possessions, but it's still attachment.
A person has to find that state that is a non-state. But he risks becoming attached to finding the non-state, or becoming attached to being in the non-state.
This is the point at which the sage stretches out, puts his feet up, and asks someone to check on his pancakes.
Let's say, for example (since it's a pet issue for me) someone decided he's going to detach himself from, or practice non-attachment to, material possessions. That's an admirable goal. But what if, instead of reaching non-attachment to material possessions, this person just flips his attachment on its head and he becomes attached to not having anything? That's probably preferable to being attached to possessions, but it's still attachment.
A person has to find that state that is a non-state. But he risks becoming attached to finding the non-state, or becoming attached to being in the non-state.
This is the point at which the sage stretches out, puts his feet up, and asks someone to check on his pancakes.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Monday evening
I saw a guy in the grocery store this evening who had shaved his scalp and had a map of Texas tattooed on the back of his head.
Leopard
Loaded the new version of OS X, called Leopard, onto my home Mac this afternoon, and had huge problems. This won't mean anything to you if you're not a regular Mac user, but the system hung as the Finder was loading. I got the spinning beach ball, and then the mouse and keyboard had only limited function.
Oddly enough, everything worked fine with the Camino and Firefox web browsers, and Safari was mostly functional. Other programs loaded slowly or not at all.
Some Googling on the internets led me to a page suggesting my problem might be caused by a system directory installed by the DivX video codec called DivXNetworks, and that my problem would be solved if I changed the directory name to DivX.
This isn't that easy if you can't boot the computer all the way up.
Eventually I got it into single-user mode (if you're a Windows user, this is somewhat akin to the DOS mode that used to load before Windows loaded on top of it) and made the change there, and sure enough it worked.
Oddly enough, everything worked fine with the Camino and Firefox web browsers, and Safari was mostly functional. Other programs loaded slowly or not at all.
Some Googling on the internets led me to a page suggesting my problem might be caused by a system directory installed by the DivX video codec called DivXNetworks, and that my problem would be solved if I changed the directory name to DivX.
This isn't that easy if you can't boot the computer all the way up.
Eventually I got it into single-user mode (if you're a Windows user, this is somewhat akin to the DOS mode that used to load before Windows loaded on top of it) and made the change there, and sure enough it worked.
An afternoon reality
Certain irrational and essentially useless (at least for me) biological drives run as background processes and interfere with my ability to have a calm, peaceful day.
As I've said before, I'm old, fat and covered with cat hair. Why can't I have a biological drive for cleaning house and picking up cat shit? That would be more constructive.
As I've said before, I'm old, fat and covered with cat hair. Why can't I have a biological drive for cleaning house and picking up cat shit? That would be more constructive.
An afternoon daydream
It goes like this:
I'm living in some village on the Mediterranean or Aegean Sea. I've been here a long time. There are a few other Americans around, but not many. This isn't a tourist destination. Few people know I'm an American, and those who know don't care. Most people around here don't know me at all – I keep pretty much to myself. I don't read the papers: I don't know who's leading in the AFC East, or what the president's approval rating is or whose natural resources we're stealing because Jesus wants us to. I long ago lost contact with the states. People I knew, women I loved (yes, there have been some) and places I went are all like a dream I once had.
I live in a second-floor apartment. I have one room that is a combination living room/library and a smaller room that's the bedroom. There's no kitchen; I usually eat in a small local restaurant downstairs.
It's the middle of the afternoon, and I'm lying on the bed, drifting between sleep and dim wakefulness. The walls of my bedroom are cream-colored. There's the bed and a small desk and chair in the room, all painted white, and no other furniture. There's a glass and a pitcher of water on the desk. A few ice cubes, melted almost completely away, float in the pitcher.
It's about seventy degrees. The bedroom window is open, and a breeze is coming off the sea. Sailboats drift across the small harbor.
This is my day, this is every day, this is my life. At least in the daydream.
I'm living in some village on the Mediterranean or Aegean Sea. I've been here a long time. There are a few other Americans around, but not many. This isn't a tourist destination. Few people know I'm an American, and those who know don't care. Most people around here don't know me at all – I keep pretty much to myself. I don't read the papers: I don't know who's leading in the AFC East, or what the president's approval rating is or whose natural resources we're stealing because Jesus wants us to. I long ago lost contact with the states. People I knew, women I loved (yes, there have been some) and places I went are all like a dream I once had.
I live in a second-floor apartment. I have one room that is a combination living room/library and a smaller room that's the bedroom. There's no kitchen; I usually eat in a small local restaurant downstairs.
It's the middle of the afternoon, and I'm lying on the bed, drifting between sleep and dim wakefulness. The walls of my bedroom are cream-colored. There's the bed and a small desk and chair in the room, all painted white, and no other furniture. There's a glass and a pitcher of water on the desk. A few ice cubes, melted almost completely away, float in the pitcher.
It's about seventy degrees. The bedroom window is open, and a breeze is coming off the sea. Sailboats drift across the small harbor.
This is my day, this is every day, this is my life. At least in the daydream.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Some other blogs...
...have a link at the bottom of the page that lets you go to previous posts. I don't have that, and I don't know why. Some kind of Blogger code I haven't figured out.
The Evangelical Crackup
Found via The Huffington Post – an interesting article from the NYT Magazine about The Evangelical Crackup and the growing voice of moderation among evangelicals.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Speaking of mundane tasks
Today I spent about 90 minutes (or maybe it just seemed like 90 minutes) whacking back a wisteria bush/tree in front of my house. Most of the shrubbery surrounding the house will have to be trimmed in preparation for a paint job coming in early November – the wisteria, which I planted myself, is the biggest item on the list. I only got about a third done today.
I originally planted the wisteria to get some privacy while on the porch, and I certainly got it. The thing grew into a one-plant jungle. I hope it will start growing back in the spring. It will take a couple of summers' growth to reach its former size.
Also today, I went to the mall, planning to quickly pick up a copy of the newest Apple operating system, called OS X Leopard. I can't remember ever seeing the mall that crowded except before Christmas. Perhaps the shopping season has already begun. It was a mess.
I originally planted the wisteria to get some privacy while on the porch, and I certainly got it. The thing grew into a one-plant jungle. I hope it will start growing back in the spring. It will take a couple of summers' growth to reach its former size.
Also today, I went to the mall, planning to quickly pick up a copy of the newest Apple operating system, called OS X Leopard. I can't remember ever seeing the mall that crowded except before Christmas. Perhaps the shopping season has already begun. It was a mess.
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