Movie Night

Blogblah! and I went to see Hangover 2 last night. Neither of us thought it was funny, and I found it depressing. I don't find anything amusing about shootings, drug overdoses, bodies stuffed in ice coolers, self-mutilation, etc.

Bad Memories

I try not to spend time dwelling on the past. Sometimes I do, though, and then I mentally scold myself for dragging myself through all that dirt yet again.

Sometimes, though, some past recollection will pop into my head, prompted by something happening in the present moment. These aren't remembrances I've stopped to ponder or pity myself over — they're just tiny fragments of memories that appear unbidden. I don't think there's any way to prevent that.

But I wish there were. I wish I could turn them off. I wish I could lock the front door against them. I wish keeping the blinds drawn would hold them at bay.

Of course, I know the Buddhst teaching about memories and the past, and sometimes it helps to focus on that teaching. Sometimes.

My unpleasant memories outnumber my pleasant memories by a ratio of a thousand to one, going from earliest childhood to dinner last night. The earliest bad memories are about things that happened to me, but from about 1978 forward, the bad memories are about stupid or bad things I did to myself or others. And there are plenty of them to remember. Not Charles Manson or John Gotti stuff, but a long string of foolish acts and statements.

Part of the reason I stay holed up in this house is to stay away from anything that will spark a bad memory, and to avoid creating new ones.

Breathe Deep the Gathering Gloom

Nice profile pic, huh? It's interesting how a photo can look like you, yet look nothing like you. This photo makes me look like I was in The Moody Blues.

A Lime Green Manthong

You know, I've been depressed so much of my life that depression is like wearing old, comfortable underwear. Enthusiastic optimism, on the other hand, would be like a lime green manthong. I don't want to wear it, and I don't think you want to see me wear it.

New (To Me) Technology

I just discovered that you can buy wireless remote switches for lamps and other appliances. You plug the receiver into a wall outlet and plug the appliance into the receiver. Then you can turn the switch in the receiver off and on with remote.

This is going to be godsend for turning lamps on and off while I'm in bed.

Looks Like Lennie, Talks Like Cronkite

I've written in some previous posts (here and here) about my desire to separate my intellect from my physical body and just drift through space.

I think the picture in the previous post helps explain why. The body from which I would like to be separated is basically healthy, but fat, clumsy and awkward. My head, as I've mentioned before, is huge. My legs are short for my height. I'm six feet tall, but because of the bizarre proportions of my physical form, I don't look tall — I just look like a big, slow slab of beef. When I'm photographed alone, I look fairly normal, because there's no one to whom I can be compared. But sitting or standing next to other people, I look freakish.

And this body looks like it ought to house an intellect with an IQ of about eighty. People have trouble getting past the fact that I look like Steinbeck's Lennie Small from "Of Mice and Men," but talk like — I don't know, Walter Cronkite or someone.

So, there's that rant.

The Real Me

mcarp the hutt.

Sometimes we lose sight of how we appear to other people. Well, at least I do. The person I see in the mirror seems to be a lot more attractive than the person other people see in the flesh.

I was keenly aware of how I appeared when I was a reporter; after all, I saw myself on television all the time. But now, many years later, I don't pay so much attention to it.

So, I was taken somewhat aback when I found this photo of myself on a friend's Facebook page. Even so, I have to accept the reality that this is how I appear to other people, and that the notion I had of my own appearance, and negative as it was, was still somewhat idealized.

Damn – I look like Baby Huey. Well, except that Baby Huey isn't pecking on an iPhone all the time.

I'm a bit thinner now than I was when this picture was taken more than a year ago, but even when I'm at my ideal weight, I'm still kind of a big, hulking mass, and not in a rugged, athletic way.

So, if you've been looking at those tiny thumbnail pics of me and wondering what the rest of me looks like, there it is.

TV Weatherman Meets Two Women In Bar, Wakes Up With AmEx Balance of $43,000

Media Bistro

Facebook Update

I'm still working at scaling back my Facebook activity. I point out from time to time that people rely on TV, movies, and specator sports to distract themselves from the essential nature of reality. But I use Facebook the same way.

This blog requires more effort to post, so I'm not as tempted to just kill time by fiddling with it. But Facebook makes it too easy. Scaling back really is work.

I like to think my Facebook 'addiction' is somewhat mitigated by the entertainment value of my posts, but I'm probably flattering myself. Even if my stuff is amusing, ought I to be adding to the general noise of the Internet?

It wouldn't kill me to just STFU.

As Much Drama As They Want

An acquaintance of mine posted a Facebook status an hour or so ago stating he is hiding in a corner of a well-known hipster/stoner bar, pepper spray in hand, fearing for his own safety. He says it 'seems like a different lifetime' that he was last able to enjoy going to bars.

If I were a closer friend, I would tell him that if I were him, I would find some other place to be. It's crazy to hang out in some joint where you don't feel safe.

But, being an introvert myself, it's easier for me to avoid those places altogether.

I've known other people who move in his same social circle, and it's all drama, all the time with them. Just a few weeks ago this same acquaintance posted about being ejected from another fairly notorious bar after a dustup, and receiving threatening emails afterward.

I had another, closer friend who frequented these same bars. Her life was a continual series of confrontations and crises. Everywhere she went, it seemed, she was harassed, insulted, intimidated or assaulted — often by total strangers. Not just in bars, either — it happened to her at work, at the mall, at family reunions. She always saw herself as the innocent victim in these incidents. But I told her once, after hearing about the latest outrage against her person, that she had more of these incidents in 90 days than I'd had in my whole life. And it was true.

People have about as much drama in their lives as they want to have.

Overnight Storms

It stormed all night, and it looks like it will storm most of the day today. The rain is very welcome, at least here in the city. I don't know how the timing is for farmers.

How 'Bout That Immanuel Kant?

I think I've mentioned before that I'm completely ignorant of Western philosophy. A friend sent me the link to the essay I posted yesterday. I guess any first-year philosophy student is familiar with it, but I had never seen it.

Immanuel Kant: What is Enlightenment?

IMMANUEL KANT

An Answer to the Question:
What is Enlightenment? (1784)

This text was lifted from the website of the University of Pennsylvania. —mcarp

Enlightenment is man's emergence from his self-imposed immaturity. Immaturity is the inability to use one's understanding without guidance from another. This immaturity is self-imposed when its cause lies not in lack of understanding, but in lack of resolve and courage to use it without guidance from another. Sapere Aude! [dare to know] "Have courage to use your own understanding!"--that is the motto of enlightenment.

Laziness and cowardice are the reasons why so great a proportion of men, long after nature has released them from alien guidance (natura-liter maiorennes), nonetheless gladly remain in lifelong immaturity, and why it is so easy for others to establish themselves as their guardians. It is so easy to be immature. If I have a book to serve as my understanding, a pastor to serve as my conscience, a physician to determine my diet for me, and so on, I need not exert myself at all. I need not think, if only I can pay: others will readily undertake the irksome work for me. The guardians who have so benevolently taken over the supervision of men have carefully seen to it that the far greatest part of them (including the entire fair sex) regard taking the step to maturity as very dangerous, not to mention difficult. Having first made their domestic livestock dumb, and having carefully made sure that these docile creatures will not take a single step without the go-cart to which they are harnessed, these guardians then show them the danger that threatens them, should they attempt to walk alone. Now this danger is not actually so great, for after falling a few times they would in the end certainly learn to walk; but an example of this kind makes men timid and usually frightens them out of all further attempts.

Thus, it is difficult for any individual man to work himself out of the immaturity that has all but become his nature. He has even become fond of this state and for the time being is actually incapable of using his own understanding, for no one has ever allowed him to attempt it. Rules and formulas, those mechanical aids to the rational use, or rather misuse, of his natural gifts, are the shackles of a permanent immaturity. Whoever threw them off would still make only an uncertain leap over the smallest ditch, since he is unaccustomed to this kind of free movement. Consequently, only a few have succeeded, by cultivating their own minds, in freeing themselves from immaturity and pursuing a secure course.

But that the public should enlighten itself is more likely; indeed, if it is only allowed freedom, enlightenment is almost inevitable. For even among the entrenched guardians of the great masses a few will always think for themselves, a few who, after having themselves thrown off the yoke of immaturity, will spread the spirit of a rational appreciation for both their own worth and for each person's calling to think for himself. But it should be particularly noted that if a public that was first placed in this yoke by the guardians is suitably aroused by some of those who are altogether incapable of enlightenment, it may force the guardians themselves to remain under the yoke--so pernicious is it to instill prejudices, for they finally take revenge upon their originators, or on their descendants. Thus a public can only attain enlightenment slowly. Perhaps a revolution can overthrow autocratic despotism and profiteering or power-grabbing oppression, but it can never truly reform a manner of thinking; instead, new prejudices, just like the old ones they replace, will serve as a leash for the great unthinking mass.

Nothing is required for this enlightenment, however, except freedom; and the freedom in question is the least harmful of all, namely, the freedom to use reason publicly in all matters. But on all sides I hear: "Do not argue!" The officer says, "Do not argue, drill!" The tax man says, "Do not argue, pay!" The pastor says, "Do not argue, believe!" (Only one ruler in the World says, "Argue as much as you want and about what you want, but obey!") In this we have examples of pervasive restrictions on freedom. But which restriction hinders enlightenment and which does not, but instead actually advances it? I reply: The public use of one's reason must always be free, and it alone can bring about enlightenment among mankind; the private use of reason may, however, often be very narrowly restricted, without otherwise hindering the progress of enlightenment. By the public use of one's own reason I understand the use that anyone as a scholar makes of reason before the entire literate world. I call the private use of reason that which a person may make in a civic post or office that has been entrusted to him. Now in many affairs conducted in the interests of a community, a certain mechanism is required by means of which some of its members must conduct themselves in an entirely passive manner so that through an artificial unanimity the government may guide them toward public ends, or at least prevent them from destroying such ends. Here one certainly must not argue, instead one must obey. However, insofar as this part of the machine also regards himself as a member of the community as a whole, or even of the world community, and as a consequence addresses the public in the role of a scholar, in the proper sense of that term, he can most certainly argue, without thereby harming the affairs for which as a passive member he is partly responsible. Thus it would be disastrous if an officer on duty who was given a command by his superior were to question the appropriateness or utility of the order. He must obey. But as a scholar he cannot be justly constrained from making comments about errors in military service, or from placing them before the public for its judgment. The citizen cannot refuse to pay the taxes imposed on him; indeed, impertinent criticism of such levies, when they should be paid by him, can be punished as a scandal (since it can lead to widespread insubordination). But the same person does not act contrary to civic duty when, as a scholar, he publicly expresses his thoughts regarding the impropriety or even injustice of such taxes. Likewise a pastor is bound to instruct his catecumens and congregation in accordance with the symbol of the church he serves, for he was appointed on that condition. But as a scholar he has complete freedom, indeed even the calling, to impart to the public all of his carefully considered and well-intentioned thoughts concerning mistaken aspects of that symbol, as well as his suggestions for the better arrangement of religious and church matters. Nothing in this can weigh on his conscience. What he teaches in consequence of his office as a servant of the church he sets out as something with regard to which he has no discretion to teach in accord with his own lights; rather, he offers it under the direction and in the name of another. He will say, "Our church teaches this or that and these are the demonstrations it uses." He thereby extracts for his congregation all practical uses from precepts to which he would not himself subscribe with complete conviction, but whose presentation he can nonetheless undertake, since it is not entirely impossible that truth lies hidden in them, and, in any case, nothing contrary to the very nature of religion is to be found in them. If he believed he could find anything of the latter sort in them, he could not in good conscience serve in his position; he would have to resign. Thus an appointed teacher's use of his reason for the sake of his congregation is merely private, because, however large the congregation is, this use is always only domestic; in this regard, as a priest, he is not free and cannot be such because he is acting under instructions from someone else. By contrast, the cleric--as a scholar who speaks through his writings to the public as such, i.e., the world--enjoys in this public use of reason an unrestricted freedom to use his own rational capacities and to speak his own mind. For that the (spiritual) guardians of a people should themselves be immature is an absurdity that would insure the perpetuation of absurdities.

But would a society of pastors, perhaps a church assembly or venerable presbytery (as those among the Dutch call themselves), not be justified in binding itself by oath to a certain unalterable symbol in order to secure a constant guardianship over each of its members and through them over the people, and this for all time: I say that this is wholly impossible. Such a contract, whose intention is to preclude forever all further enlightenment of the human race, is absolutely null and void, even if it should be ratified by the supreme power, by parliaments, and by the most solemn peace treaties. One age cannot bind itself, and thus conspire, to place a succeeding one in a condition whereby it would be impossible for the later age to expand its knowledge (particularly where it is so very important), to rid itself of errors,and generally to increase its enlightenment. That would be a crime against human nature, whose essential destiny lies precisely in such progress; subsequent generations are thus completely justified in dismissing such agreements as unauthorized and criminal. The criterion of everything that can be agreed upon as a law by a people lies in this question: Can a people impose such a law on itself? Now it might be possible, in anticipation of a better state of affairs, to introduce a provisional order for a specific, short time, all the while giving all citizens, especially clergy, in their role as scholars, the freedom to comment publicly, i.e., in writing, on the present institution's shortcomings. The provisional order might last until insight into the nature of these matters had become so widespread and obvious that the combined (if not unanimous) voices of the populace could propose to the crown that it take under its protection those congregations that, in accord with their newly gained insight, had organized themselves under altered religious institutions, but without interfering with those wishing to allow matters to remain as before. However, it is absolutely forbidden that they unite into a religious organization that nobody may for the duration of a man's lifetime publicly question, for so do-ing would deny, render fruitless, and make detrimental to succeeding generations an era in man's progress toward improvement. A man may put off enlightenment with regard to what he ought to know, though only for a short time and for his own person; but to renounce it for himself, or, even more, for subsequent generations, is to violate and trample man's divine rights underfoot. And what a people may not decree for itself may still less be imposed on it by a monarch, for his lawgiving authority rests on his unification of the people's collective will in his own. If he only sees to it that all genuine or purported improvement is consonant with civil order, he can allow his subjects to do what they find necessary to their spiritual well-being, which is not his affair. However, he must prevent anyone from forcibly interfering with another's working as best he can to determine and promote his well-being. It detracts from his own majesty when he interferes in these matters, since the writings in which his subjects attempt to clarify their insights lend value to his conception of governance. This holds whether he acts from his own highest insight--whereby he calls upon himself the reproach, "Caesar non eat supra grammaticos."'--as well as, indeed even more, when he despoils his highest authority by supporting the spiritual despotism of some tyrants in his state over his other subjects.

If it is now asked, "Do we presently live in an enlightened age?" the answer is, "No, but we do live in an age of enlightenment." As matters now stand, a great deal is still lacking in order for men as a whole to be, or even to put themselves into a position to be able without external guidance to apply understanding confidently to religious issues. But we do have clear indications that the way is now being opened for men to proceed freely in this direction and that the obstacles to general enlightenment--to their release from their self-imposed immaturity--are gradually diminishing. In this regard, this age is the age of enlightenment, the century of Frederick.

A prince who does not find it beneath him to say that he takes it to be his duty to prescribe nothing, but rather to allow men complete freedom in religious matters--who thereby renounces the arrogant title of tolerance--is himself enlightened and deserves to be praised by a grateful present and by posterity as the first, at least where the government is concerned, to release the human race from immaturity and to leave everyone free to use his own reason in all matters of conscience. Under his rule, venerable pastors, in their role as scholars and without prejudice to their official duties, may freely and openly set out for the world's scrutiny their judgments and views, even where these occasionally differ from the accepted symbol. Still greater freedom is afforded to those who are not restricted by an official post. This spirit of freedom is expanding even where it must struggle against the external obstacles of governments that misunderstand their own function. Such governments are illuminated by the example that the existence of freedom need not give cause for the least concern regarding public order and harmony in the commonwealth. If only they refrain from inventing artifices to keep themselves in it, men will gradually raise themselves from barbarism.

I have focused on religious matters in setting out my main point concerning enlightenment, i.e., man's emergence from self-imposed immaturity, first because our rulers have no interest in assuming the role of their subjects' guardians with respect to the arts and sciences, and secondly because that form of immaturity is both the most pernicious and disgraceful of all. But the manner of thinking of a head of state who favors religious enlightenment goes even further, for he realizes that there is no danger to his legislation in allowing his subjects to use reason publicly and to set before the world their thoughts concerning better formulations of his laws, even if this involves frank criticism of legislation currently in effect. We have before us a shining example, with respect to which no monarch surpasses the one whom we honor.

But only a ruler who is himself enlightened and has no dread of shadows, yet who likewise has a well-disciplined, numerous army to guarantee public peace, can say what no republic may dare, namely: "Argue as much as you want and about what you want, but obey!" Here as elsewhere, when things are considered in broad perspective, a strange, unexpected pattern in human affairs reveals itself, one in which almost everything is paradoxical. A greater degree of civil freedom seems advantageous to a people's spiritual freedom; yet the former established impassable boundaries for the latter; conversely, a lesser degree of civil freedom provides enough room for all fully to expand their abilities. Thus, once nature has removed the hard shell from this kernel for which she has most fondly cared, namely, the inclination to and vocation for free thinking, the kernel gradually reacts on a people's mentality (whereby they become increasingly able to act freely), and it finally even influences the principles of government, which finds that it can profit by treating men, who are now more than machines, in accord with their dignity.

I. Kant
Konigsberg in Prussia, 30 September 1784

Shit.

Shit.

I Thought I Wouldn't Make It To 40

I'm about 18 months away from my sixtieth birthday. My. Sixtieth. Birthday.

I don't know what the fuck I'm doing still here. When I was in my teens, I assumed I wouldn't make it to forty. I assumed we'd have a nuclear war, or I'd get hit by a drunk driver, or I would just get fed up and kill myself. But I'm still here.

I have it all pretty much figured out. No, really, I do — seriously. I've written about it here in a scattershot kind of way. Maybe I should organize it all into outline form, so it makes more sense. But the main thing is, I don't have a lot of heavy profound questions left. Everything's settled in my mind, and no mysteries remain to be unraveled.

The one part I never figured out was how I was supposed to fit into the big picture. Maybe I just don't. But at this point, what difference does it make how I fit in? They're cueing up the closing credits as I write this.

People keep telling me I could live another twenty years. Like I would want to do that. Another twenty years of cleaning up cat shit.

Okay, that's enough self-pity for now. I don't want to use it all up.

Happy Mother's Day

Today is Mother's Day. On Facebook, many of my friends are using pictures of their mothers on their profiles. Many more are posting tributes.

I won't post anything about it there, because I don't want to put a damper on other people's remembrances, but this nostalgia and affection seems completely alien to me.

To me, a mother is someone who has nothing good or supportive to say to you. She's someone who tells you you're ugly. That you're clumsy. That you'll grow up to be a 'fairy'.

She's someone who is drunk almost all the time. Who occasionally disappears for two or three days at a time, only to reappear as if nothing unusual has happened. Who is occasionally carried into the house passed out drunk, with fellow barflies at each arm and leg, hauling her dead weight.

She's someone who, if you're hit by a car while crossing the street, walks into the emergency room complaining about how you've disrupted her day.

My mother and I parted ways when I was 14, and I never saw her or spoke with her again. She married another staggering, slobbering drunk (the widower of the woman my dad was screwing on the side), and they moved to a little town in the Ozarks and lived the rest of their lives there.

I know I've written about a lot of this before, but sometimes I feel the need to vent.

Whompf!

Dead of night
Whompf!
It's the cat

Lo, the infinite!

Yesterday, chicken and rice.
Today, rice and chicken.
Lo, the infinite!

A New Blanket

My new blanket sheds
Covered with red fuzz
I sleep

Wednesday

Can you make the sun rise earlier?
Can you stop it from setting?
Then what the hell is your point?

Bush Derangement Syndrome

I'll freely admit I suffer from Bush Derangement Syndrome. I think George W. Bush was the worst president of my lifetime, which began in the closing days of the Truman administration. Mr. Bush finished his career with a comfortable lead over first runner up Richard Nixon.

But I was prepared, and, in fact, eager to move on after the election of Barack Obama. I saw no reason to keep stomping on the hapless boob who survived eight years in the White House on nothing more than swagger and talkin' Texan t'folks.

But just about 72 hours ago, Navy SEALS raided the compound of terrorist leader Osama bin Laden and killed him. And even though it was Bush who blew off warnings of the imminent World Trade Center/Pentagon attack, telling a CIA official, "All right, you've covered your ass now," before leaving the intelligence briefing unread on a coffee table to go fishing; even though it was Bush who, upon learning of the attack, spent ten minutes pretending to read "The Pet Goat" while the gears in his brain tried to process the political implications of his monumental fuckup; even though it was Bush who had bin Laden cornered at Tora Bora but let him slip through, we now have Republican sycophants claiming that Bush deserves the credit for bin Laden's death.

It must have been Bush, because Bush, after all, was the rich white guy who had the cowboy hat and boots, the pickup truck and the movie-set 'ranch' in Texas — not that uppity colored fella from Kenya or Hawaii or Illinois or wherever he's from.

Bush deserves credit for killing bin Laden about the same way an arsonist deserves credit for the fire department putting out his fire.