Yep, Alcohol's Bad

In what should come as a surprise to no one, scientists are discovering new ways alcohol wrecks the body and mind. Every day I scan the headlines, and almost every day a new horror is uncovered with alcohol as the author. Either new research, new disease, or some new crime from an inebriated loser.

Yes, those who get inebriated are losers, because they are losing this world and lowering themselves to a lesser spiritual plane than this one, and this one is not all that great, to begin with.

One of my life's regrets is that I ever got habituated to the drinking of alcohol. Unfortunately, I found myself at a vulnerable age unprepared to cope with the stresses and pressures of school and sought solace in the bottle and to a lesser extent marijuana, which was always hard to come by and extremely risky to indulge in, because the entire nation was hysterical over "The War on Drugs," not the least my parents, who waged constant war over the use of marijuana. I think the wars and conflicts only exasperated the problem, by making it all seem like an issue of freedom versus totalitarianism. The irony, of course, is that now I do voluntarily, and with great zeal and enthusiasm, prosecute the strictures of complete and total abstinence from all inebriating substances, whereas before, when every punishment was levied and endless battles, physical and psychological and spiritual, were waged against me, I prevailed to continue in what I perceived as my own prerogative. Forever, people suppose they can control others, and perhaps they are able to control slaves, those without a strong spirit. But not everyone responds to the cycle of endless punishments.

The question arises, why did not anyone care to give me guidance or instruction, as to alternatives to drinking? Well, that is a complicated question. Of course alternatives were given from many directions, but an adolescent mind filters out almost everything quite effectively except for the ignorance prevailing among peers. It is probably not such a good idea to herd people of the same age group together all the time, because there is a lack of wisdom and a prevalence of ignorance.

At any rate, the result is not one I can fully understand. I do not know how exactly my life would have turned out any differently, had I never drank. Probably, I would have been more successful, if even slightly so. Maybe I would have merely performed better from time to time at various tasks and in various roles. Maybe the difference would have been slight. I did not drink to great excess, but I have found that even a bit is bad, definitely bad. The main problem is that the lower thoughts are allowed to surface, rather than remaining checked as they would be under normal sobriety.

Certainly, drinking is not the worst vice. I find Trump remarkable by his abstinence from alcohol, because he acts like a man that downs a quart of whiskey a day. Some people just are attuned to the lower impulses by nature. Just imagine Trump if he did drink.

Normal people find it difficult or impossible to give up what they view as light, moderate or occasional drinking. They only have a few glasses of wine at a party, what's the harm? Well, if that is the case, continue on, I say, and don't worry about me. If however, you do perceive to be lessened by your consumption of alcohol, and wonder how it is possible to give it up, then my secret is well-known. As a matter of fact, it is revealed by Alcoholics Anonymous. I am not a member, because I do not gain anything by joining groups of any kind. The secret is merely to have something in the way of spirituality, to replace one irrational practice with another. I find that this is not difficult, and why? Because I feel joy in the spirit. Great, blissful, mind-expanding and soul-expanding joy. Now, those who have not tried it or who have tried it and not felt anything like this will wonder what I am talking about. One just has to find the right practice that suits one's spiritual needs. The human race has laid out a rich and varied buffet with many aromatic dishes consisting of religions, philosophies, and various types of belief systems. So, examine what is offered by our forefathers, and choose one that suits. Be slow to choose and careful to evaluate.

I rank religions in terms of their appeal to me. Some are at zero, no appeal at all. Others are close to a "10". There are many in the middle. Very likely, the first choice is in the middle somewhere. Later, you may grow disenchanted and drift to something else. That happens sometimes, and it is okay. Not every faith is for everybody. I think that many ways are intended to suit many different personalities. The trouble with religions has always been when they try to control other people, including people that are not even a part of their religion. That brings trouble. But otherwise, if coexistence is possible, then everybody can be happy, or as happy as human beings ever can be.

Some religions, particularly those described as "conservative" or "strict", require life-long adherence, and when I say require, I mean that sanctions are imposed against apostates. Indeed, the Muslims in many countries are known for killing, harming or otherwise censuring those among their faith that stray to other belief systems such as atheism. I regard that as a spiritual crime and oppose compulsion in spiritual matters. Using force to control others points to spiritual emptiness, because if there was anything of spirit in a practice, no compulsion would be necessary at all. In many Muslim countries, people are killed or tortured for insignificant and irrelevant infractions against the majority religion. This is due to barbarism and ignorance, and I point it out because so many writers avoid doing so. If evil is not pointed out, then it becomes assumed to be good, and human beings can easily get things wrong. A religion becomes debased and wrong when it is used to justify acts of evil, this is what ultimately discredits a religion--not the apostates nor the atheists, but the ones harming the apostates and the atheists, because by harming, they make a lie of all that is in their religion.

High School was a Low Point

Regular beatings and humiliation were a fact of daily life my freshman year at high school. It was just an ordinary high school, not a military one, but I think in many ways it was run like a military school, with strict rules and regimens. The main instigator was a twisted sociopath in P.E., and he was encouraged and enabled by the teacher. The drill-sergeant approach to education is claimed to work for some, perhaps, more or less, but didn't work out so well in my case. Does that mean that I was "weak" and another, ideal specimen was "strong" to thrive in a violent, abusive environment? Are regular beatings good for people? Some do think so, whether they will admit it or not, but perhaps they should try it out for themselves sometime, on the receiving end, that is. Then poll their opinion after they have received a good dose. I imagine that "boot camp" is meant to prepare one for war by lowering ones threshold for pain, lowering ones morality and reducing inhibitions. If we are at war, fine, maybe that is a necessary evil indeed, but if not, is it necessary? How much violence is really needed in the world?

I am reminded of what I endured by what some people are dredging up into the news media ten, twenty, thirty years after the fact, or longer. It seems to me that the only difference between these ancient cases and mine is that I was never confronted with someone else's genitals. That seems like a minor point next to a year's worth of physical and psychological abuse. Basically, abuse was a part of the system in school, it was normal and accepted everyday life for a lot of students. Survival of the fittest was the philosophy. No one really cared, the atmosphere was highly competitive and no one would pick you up if you fell--more likely, kick you in the ribs. The result, well, I think I have done about as well as I could with this life, given the sort of start I had. If I had to do things over, I would have set my mind to figuring out a way to avoid the dreadful high school I went to. It was a waste of time, not helpful in any way, and not educational in the slightest. I would have been much better off simply being locked in a library for eight hours a day. In a library, I would have absorbed the knowledge of the world and emerged in four years knowing a lot about a lot. School taught nothing, except people are morons, brutes and liars. That was the basic lesson, drilled daily, with tests all the time, and God help you if you forgot. Although, God wasn't around, because the Church just sold a whole load of generalities and called it spirituality. Whatever. Church never seemed satisfying to me and never made me feel even slightly closer to divinity.

Now, I finally know what education really is. Education is learning on your own, by yourself, at your own pace, fast or slow. I finally know what spirituality is. Spirituality is having a personal relationship with the greater powers, free of nonsense and window-dressing, just plain, straight-up communion, guided by common sense and a desire for that which is good.

The two criminals, that violent sociopath and the P.E. teacher that always turned a blind eye or, when he noticed, opted to blame the victim, succeeded in their objective, if their goal was to cost me a lot of suffering and lost time, lost future wages and lost prospects. They achieved their dark victory. If there is justice in the Universe, if Karma is real, as Donald Michael Kraig fervently believes, judging by his opinions in "Modern Magick," then their payback for their sins would be great. I myself rather doubt the existence of karma, based on what we know about various historical figures. Good does not always prosper, not is evil always vanquished or punished in any way. Sometimes good people are harmed with impunity, and evil-doers enjoy their lives to the very end of their days. I think rather that Karma is a useful construct, make-believe, that Kraig and many other would-be philosophers like to indoctrinate their students with in the hope and the prayer of spreading goodness and light through the world. But I don't really believe in Policeman Karma watching and weighing rights and wrongs and sanctioning wrong-doers. Would it were so, but alas, the Universe does seem oblivious to the cries of humble folk. I think we are regarded by divinity, if at all, in the same light as ants and bees, as pixels in a greater picture, and that what happens to us in this lifetime is not really evaluated, but kind of left up to chance.

I learned in high school, the villains seize fun and pleasure and get away with it, and those that harm none can suffer for a long time. It was kind of a reverse morality lesson, learning evil in school. My moral instructors were the bully and the P.E. teacher. It took years to unlearn those lessons. That is about the summit of what happened in high school. Not, in my opinion, a judicious use of taxpayer dollars. Did the P.E. teacher earn his salary? No. Where was karma? Missing in action. I did not even think about karma in those days, because I had a more traditional view of the Universe. I thought, where is God? I did not observe any hints of true Christianity in school. Maybe a number of students professed Christianity, that is, if you asked them, oh sure, even been born again and all that jazz, but it was like brand-name clothing they wore to boast and brag about their piety. Now P.E. was a pretty big class, over thirty of my peers, and they knew exactly what was going on, every one of them, they witnessed him and me. Not a word nor an action. Their indifference did not pass unmarked by me. Indeed it was taken into consideration in order to form a worldview. That is what happens in youth, forming of the worldview. Now, my worldview has evolved since then, for sure, for the better, I think. But then I thought, this world is evil, all are evil. In darkness man dwells. And many a time, I thought to open my veins.

What stayed my hand? Why did I choose to remain in this world? I think memories of happier times, a vague notion that "This, too, shall pass," and my inner optimism. Certainly I am pleased that my younger self did not take any drastic action. It was true, life did get better. I got out of that hell-hole school, did much better in college where I was freer and more independent and not forced to sit in assigned seating in some stupid P.E. class with a stupid know-nothing instructor. I was able to make a living and be independent, and that is good enough for me.

The concept of Karma does interest me. I really want to believe in it, a just Universe, but you know, setting my own personal hell-story aside, along with all my own personal experiences, just crack open a history book. What the hell kind of karma did the victors of every war receive for all their killing and destruction? Certainly plenty of generals and dictators have gone on to enjoy a cushy retirement. Look at Napoleon, for one. You can say Russia was karma, and I would reply, karma for his troops, while Napoleon himself went on to stir up trouble the next ten years and eventually idle his remaining days in exile.

Sing a Song of Sobriety

I am proud of being sober.

True, it is a modest accomplishment. People like my mother thought nothing of it. To her, sobriety came naturally, was a done deal, always active. Sobriety is not a positive good, per se. It is merely the absence of a vice.

H. Sapiens, including many people I know and many people we read about in the media, has a huge problem with drinking in particular and also other drugs. That is why I am proud to be sober, because other folks aren't. I can look at them and think, well, I'm better off, wiser, stronger, etc. In reality, perhaps, just a modicum. It is a small thing. Perhaps I have grown ambitious. I want to find more in this life, see more meaning, and I see no meaning in a bottle, none at all. I see the desire for death in the bottle, and it seems to me, so many people are weary of this mortal coil, and in their hearts wish to fade and disappear, to which end, drinking serves like rocket fuel. For the thinking mind gets retarded by the progress of alcohol, and base animals we become under its influence.

To drink is irrational. Upon accepting that drinking is harmful, the mind must solve a riddle, why drink at all? Everywhere, at many social functions, drinks are offered, and booze is easy to come by, plentiful. Temptation is everywhere. Yet to a mind armored in the magic of NO, there is no temptation. This enchanted armor protects me. My gratitude and love increase every time I emerge from a store without clutching cans of poison. I know that I am no longer contributing to my own demise. I am not actively working to harm the self. Indeed this is what drinking is, or any drug use really, and also many other activities engaged in by humans. I hate to say it, but folks like to self-harm. I don't know of a better word for it. The mystical term I borrowed from Freud is Thanatos. Human beings are in thrall to Thanatos, the inverse, perhaps, to Apollo.

One must accept a certain level of boredom. Coping with boredom is one of the first skills a newly sober person must master. How to deal with bouts of boredom, anxiety, mild depression, and worry. Finding new coping methods is a big challenge. For me, I found that in abandoning one irrational practice--drinking--it helped to embrace another irrational practice--spirituality. There is no logical reason to believe in X, Y, or Z, but I feel that belief is unnecessary, even irrelevant. How can such an insignificant, temporary accumulation of cells suppose that it has gathered enough data to actually believe in something? No, working hypothesises are quite acceptable, as we grope our way through this dark and misty veil of the world, where so much is unknown and unseen, and our sensory apparatus so limited, and our knowledge so small. Belief, bah!

If necessary, make-believe. Nothing wrong with pretending, really, either consciously or unconsciously. The main thing is to be positive, to be aligned with that which is good and wholesome. Kindness, gentleness. As far as theology or theory or doctrine goes, that sort of things gets rewritten and revised every Aeon, and who knows, really? Perhaps some things are quite beyond full comprehension by the mortal mind, but is comprehension really necessary in the first place?

I would rather spend time contemplating Light than digesting alcohol sugars (and getting fatter and slower). Simple as that. I think being a touch anti-social actually helps, because so many self-congratulating, very self-satisfied social people I see require the drinking of alcohol in order to be social. If alcohol is the only way to be social, then perhaps it is not worth being social with such individuals. Sober people offer better company, in general.

I Quit Reddit

I quit Reddit today. Attention addiction is just another addiction and just as harmful and soul-diminishing as alcohol. Attention whores are as common as drunks nowadays. Best to nip it in the bud. I gained little from exposure to internet personalities but cold comfort.

Desecrate the Saints

When I was young and foolish, I placed the basest rascals upon silver pedestals, superior to all other mortals, elevating them to an exalted God-like status in my stories. I remember writing, night after night, deluded obviously, with even self-awareness of being so due to my Guardian Angel, but defying the Angel and creating demigods, Saints clad in white, mimicking in my fevered reverie the romantic poets like Tennyson, Shelley, Byron. Mortal clay cannot withstand such elevation; laughter, derision and mockery are the inevitable result. In the first place, I was mistaken. Those I thought were High were Low. In the second place, they loved no one but themselves, and to worship such as they is to place a crown of thorns upon one's head. There is no percentage in making oblations to an ambivalent or indeed hostile Deity. This Truth, if accepted, solves half the world's problems, but remains unseen by most, and so they persist in self-destructive behaviors, the mindless infected of viral memes. We do see in this world as through a glass darkly.

The Law is so. Think first upon serving thy Self. Then think of others. Because they will not think of you.

Now I am old and wise, I think of the same godlings with derision and contempt, and only feel wonder and amusement that I ever saw anything at all in them. In cold blood, the only right blood, I evaluate their decrepit ancient mortal forms and savor Time's rue, a punishment far surpassing any I would have contemplated. Surely some infernal spirit played tricks with me, led me far astray, and it was only Grace that kept me from getting entangled with these low creatures.

I think that rock-n-roll music is the culprit, the gateway that leads many folk to look for the divine in base mortal clay, so convenient, right at hand and so wrong. I hear some songs today and think, oh, that is a spell, and to listen too closely is to be taken.

Oh, No! A Professor Speaks Out

I read about Prof. Amy Wax's disparaging of black college students. In essence, she simply said that black students underperformed academically, but then she went on to point the finger at presumed causes--not genetic or racial, mind you, but cultural--rap music culture and the like. I think it is important to listen to what people are saying before jumping to conclusions about their ideology. Professors tend to carve out idiosyncratic world-views that borrow a bit of this, a bit of that, here and there. It is seldom correct to pigeon-hole them. But people are obsessed with labels, because they hate thinking.

There probably is merit to her observation, which was not denied, regarding underperformance among black students. Who benefits by her pointing out this discrepancy? Actually, if I were a black student, her words would serve as a spur to prove her wrong. Indeed, utter the inconvenient truth, say that the Emperor has no clothes. Truth is refreshing, liberating, and once truth is known, people can act based upon what they know. Prof. Amy Wax could potentially be the best friend of a high-performing black student. What she is demanding is better performance. She has not said that black students are incapable or biologically inferior at all, and they are not. She has said that rap music culture is brain-dead, and it is. Rap music prepares a mind to commit violent crime. Period. This is irrefutable, and there are tons of blacks in prison today, producing nothing, contributing nothing. A black student listening to Tchaikovsky, reading books, writing poetry, playing chess, and studying diligently--well, that would be a different kettle of fish, wouldn't it? I think that Prof. Amy Wax would be taken off her guard and might even write a recommendation letter for such a student.

The knee-jerk reactions of people in academia are insipid and do cause a reaction from the right. In the end, there is noise and little light.

Now, someone may say, but Igor! What if you were a college student that had to deal with a homophobic professor! Wouldn't you want him / her fired? Well, that did happen to me. I took two courses in microbiology from a very politically active, Republican (of course), right-wing, rabidly homophobic professor who equated homosexuals with pedophiles. She occasionally used the classroom as a platform for her views, although she was limited in this regard, because we had so much microbiology to cover that we had little time for extras. She had to contend with hundreds of pages, and it was a terrible confinement upon her clear and powerful desire to drone on and on about socially conservative politics, against the Godless liberals that wanted to normalize sexual perversion. Nevertheless, I liked microbiology and found her explanations of it tolerable and performed at the top of her class. I even gave a presentation on a disease that was quite well-received by the class and her comments and A+ led me to conclude she liked me. It is often thus with politics; people do not relate the solid and visible of everyday life with the invisible abstract, the boogieman homosexual that she conjures up in her fevered thinking about politics and public policy. Thus people persist in misguided views and generalizations based upon little but jokes, fancies or rumors they heard long ago.

It is possible to "prove 'em wrong" and there is a satisfaction in doing so. Yes, people begin by believing such and such, but they are mistaken, and if you are right, you must demonstrate to them, by your actions, they are wrong, and must revise their opinions, that is, if they want to be true. Not everyone wants to be true, but a great many people do, and upon descending into their world with clear and tangible evidence of a contradiction, one delivers a challenge to change.

For Amor Fati, I am Grateful

For Amor Fati, I am grateful to the Deity, because without it, I would have been held by random souls I met along the way, distractions without any ultimate truth to show me; my energies diverted and wasted in pointless exercises in futility. To have a functioning Off switch is a grace for which I am immensely grateful. I have used the switch again and again, and it has never failed me.

Sobriety

One reads, everywhere, that alcohol in moderation is good for you, or your heart, or your general state of mind, or your immune system, or something. A glass of wine with dinner, say, or a beer with your buddies, is supposed to enhance well-being. It helps the heart, well, they don't know how, but they think it may, due to statistics, or something.

On the one hand, we have trillions of dollars made through the global marketing of alcohol-based products. Of course, with so much money at stake, funding will be readily available to any scientist that wants to find virtue in a shot-glass.

On the other hand, we have zero dollars to be made, by the business-criminal class, from healthy, happy, high-functioning human beings.

It is clear to me where the truth lies. For the business criminal, the suffering and death of billions is of small concern, whereas their corporate stock price, and the luxuries afforded by their trade, is everything.

In the beginning, after I cut alcohol from my diet, my thinking was actually impaired, as my body chemistry took time to adjust. But after time, I see that I am stronger and in fuller possession of my powers. I sleep well, long, and deeply, awakening each morning refreshed, renewed, eager to begin the working day. My emotions are calmer, held in a tighter rein by the higher reason, which is of vast benefit. Money that was spent on expensive piss instead remains in my pocket. In addition, I lose weight.

There is a pleasure to be had from alcohol, but many paths lead to pleasure, and alcohol is neither the best nor the only way.

The trouble with a glass of wine at dinner is this. Those with ambition want more. If one glass is good, two must be better, after all.

The Pledge

The Pledge of Allegiance, like praying, should be voluntary. Observe that praying is compulsory in barbarian territories, so-called Islamic "countries" ruled by despots, where "morality police" punish those caught skipping prayers.

Teachers shouldn't assault kids over prayer or the Pledge. That is a foolish thing to do. In the first place, it won't make a kid patriotic; quite the opposite. In the second place, it is a poor excuse for an assault. Teachers that do that probably should not be in the profession.

The reason people pledge, or don't pledge, is a feeling of belonging to a nation and its system.

I remember back in the day, when I skipped the Pledge, as a fourteen year-old high school freshman. The reason had to do with complete alienation from the school and the country. It seemed like the school was run by the bullies, that is, the mean teachers and the tough kids, who seemed to recognize one another on some level and work hand-in-glove in many ways. The teachers turned a blind eye to bullying, and the mean kids just had a field day and ran the school. It was like prison--no different, really. There was violence, a good deal of it, and a lot of ugliness. Under the circumstances, I did not feel motivated to do the Pledge.

One day, one of the mean teachers, the Phys. Ed. instructor, who hated my guts anyway for being queer and was always working with the bullies to tear me down, yanked me up out of my seat, just like in this media story. I returned his hatred. "Big Red" can thank his lucky star nothing came of it--at least, that is, in my case. With an eye to the future, I absorbed, rather than reflected. Of course, violence begets violence, which is a basic lesson that people forget, and so the cycle continues, from prehistoric times to the present. I concluded that it is better to look toward the future than to dwell in either the past or the present. There is nothing about the high school years worth remembering. It was all wasted time.

Today, I pledge without a second's thought, and the reason is, I feel a part of the system, and a devotion to the country that is genuine, based on my good life, and a comparison of other countries around the world. Other countries, generally, stink. The U.S. is far superior in many ways, until you start comparing the most enlightened, such as Finland, Norway, Sweden, or Canada, for example. Canada, of course, has the better health system and many other things, but even so, the U.S. is definitely worth the pledge. And, I think for a black person, the U.S. is worth the pledge, because black people have it far worse in any given African nation. Yes, even with a certain level of background racism, even with the occasional police shooting, black people generally have it pretty good in the U.S., as demonstrated by the sizeable black middle class. If I were black, I'd certainly prefer the U.S. over any African nation, and I'd try to prove the racists wrong, by living a decent life.

The Little Chipmunk

A middle-aged chipmunk left a pamphlet just for my eyes to see, one of those illustrated palm-sized cartoons that I've seen a thousand times before, explaining how the only key out of Hell's prison is Jesus--that is, the crazed and ignorant Jesus of his abominable cult. I left it on the desk where he had placed it. Faux Christians such as the little chipmunk always resort to passive-aggressiveness to fulfill their petty impulses. A bit of kindness would go a lot further than one of his stupid pamphlets, let me tell you.

Almost Like Magic

Reflecting upon the world-currents that caused me the most grief, I can identify three, over the course of my life.

One: the Soviet Union. When I was a boy, we all expected to be blown up in nuclear war. That was the norm. Not only would mankind be reduced by death and radiation to half-breed mutants, but the world would become largely uninhabitable. I thought about this and prayed about it, too. Now the Soviet Union is gone, and for a while it looked as though things would be hunky-dory in that neck of the woods, but then Putin came along. Evil has a way of reinventing itself. H. Sapiens remains upon the brink. Future generations must cope with the possibility of annihilation.

Two: homosexuality. Again, when I Was a boy, I reckoned I should kill myself, because I was the only one in the world that way. That was real and that was an almost-was. Maybe in an alternative Universe, I'm not around anymore. But in this Universe, I have a strong survival instinct that outweighs the social anxiety. I brooded over this many a night and longed for a world that was different. What surprised me is that the West changed. Not the savage parts of the world, but the civilized, good and Christian West. Now, I can actually talk to priests, police officers, politicians, teachers, and neighbors about my husband. There is no need to hide. Secrets are unnecessary. That, to me, is amazing, and a miracle really, and I wonder whether it is some kind of collective white magic at work. I never expected all of this to transpire in my own lifetime. The speed with which change occurred is what surprises me. Our race, and by that I mean H. Sapiens, is awakening from a long nightmare of ignorance.

Three: marijuana. When I was a teenager, this plant was considered a heinous crime, due to hysterical propaganda that millions of people really believed. It is hard for people today to fathom the power of the Great American Drug War, which focused almost exclusively against marijuana. There are a lot of good people that were put into prison just because of that plant, but millions more were kicked out of school, fired, lost custody of their children, or other things, all because of a plant that is gentler than liquor. I was evangelical for the truth and had no patience with the lies. I told everyone I knew what I perceived to be the reality. Due to the efforts of many, marijuana is legal in some states and sold in retail stores. I never expected that to happen in my day. The lies that were manufactured to keep it illegal have lost their potency, and H. Sapiens is awakening to the wonderful and hopeful Truth. Even in my lifetime, it is possible marijuana will be legal in all of the West and that it will replace, to a large extent, that vile substance, the curse of our race, the product of Death, alcohol.

I think that each of us can perceive trends and racial thoughts that are shared by many and that is why it is possible to make predictions about the future of our civilization.

401(k)

We had a lunch-n-learn conference out at work explaining all the wonderful advantages of letting a bank nursemaid us through our 401(k) mutual fund investments.

No thank you, Mr. Bank, you charge 1% for the dubious privilege of your pedestrian expertise, consisting of what is the difference between a stock and a bond, and your mutual fund selection is full of funds with expense ratios through the roof, an astronomical 1 - 2%. I will stick with my IRA and the only good mutual fund family, VANGUARD, thank you not at all, except for the free lunch, which was basically junk food, by the way, just like your entire product offering. What, are you trying to give us a heart attack with the food?

Some doofus raised his hand asking what the expense ratios were. The saleslady replied they were what the bank pays the mutual funds, which was a bald-faced lie, because the customer pays the mutual funds out of his principal. Nothing but lies in this meeting. They were telling us 401(k) was the only tax shelter, ignoring IRAs altogether, because they don't make money from that. After the meeting, I considered calling up Johnny to let him know the real scoop. I know my way around investing. But then I remembered back when I first started at the company. One day, when I was green on the job, Johnny sneered at me because I carried a heavy toolbox to fix a little problem that required just a single cable. Well, hey, you know what, expense ratios are Johnny's toolbox. The expense ratio's on him. That's his heavy toolbox he's lugging around, looking like a fool. Me, I'm with Vanguard. Let him pay that 1-2% for the next ten years.

I Didn't Approve of Stephen King

When I was growing up, horror was just becoming a thing. It was wildly popular, and Stephen King dominated the bookstores. He was described as a young rebel, an upstart taking over the bestseller list. My friends read his stuff. I was appalled. It seemed, well, horrible, all this talk of the supernatural and worse, the evil supernatural. But that is where my world went, and in time, I followed, although I was one of the late adopters. I later learned King drank mouthwash to get drunk. He was a chronic alcoholic, ready to down a case to finish a book. Perhaps, indeed, it is how he managed channeling the spirits that wrote his books; but that is speculation on my part. I do think King is a good man, probably a very good man, and a very gifted writer. His presence among the canon can be undisputed; no library would be complete without him. I have read most, though not all, of his books. Besides his tendency to dwell upon the negative, another thing I dislike about him is repetition. His books do seem the same. I think any author, after a time, repeats himself, because being human, he has a finite number of thoughts and ideas. In summary, I wish to clarify that I do approve of Stephen King, now; I didn't, when he first came out, because I'm a biological conservative, that is, conservative in nature, if not politics, or at least modern politics.

Piyush

Today, just for fun and to resolve some outstanding technical problems, I installed a new solid state drive in my computer and tried installing Windows 10 fresh from a DVD. Windows 10 installed OK, but pitched a fit over the activation, which scratched a sore spot with me. There is a tawdry story involved here, and I might as well 'fess up.

You see, I did not purchase Windows 10 through proper channels. Ever the bargain-hunter, I snagged a product key for Windows 10 Professional off an Ebay seller, who later was banned from Ebay, probably for pushing shady licenses, because all she ever sold was Windows 10 licenses.

Nevertheless, I had paid her $80 for Win10 Pro, and it seemed quasi-legit. I had researched and found it to be a volume licensing for some kind of online academic institution. Microsoft indeed had gotten paid, although not quite as much as they would have preferred, no doubt. No way I was coughing up another $140 for a brand new license. Just no way.

I called Microsoft, and the first Indian I spoke with was a guy with a really smooth, mellow voice. He had me recite my product ID, a 30-digit number. I just loved listening to his voice, it was so clear and smooth. He could easily have been a jazz singer. I didn't really expect that from Indian tech support. In the end, however, he handed me bad news. I had to contact my seller and get the product key, which is different from the product ID. No other way forward, according to him.

I didn't tell him this, but the seller is out of the picture completely. She is gone, kaput, does not answer emails, so forget about that. But I know a thing or two. When I bought Windows 10 originally, the seller did send me a product key, or otherwise I never would have had a licensed Windows 10 in the first place. I printed it out back then and filed it. I found my hardcopy and, armed with that information, called Microsoft again, because Windows for some reason was not accepting that product key anymore.

This time I got an Indian dame, whose name remains Anonymous, because when she connected to my computer, the window indicated it was Piyush. But googling that name suggests that it is a masculine name, not a feminine one. I do not see any male Piyushes in Facebook. I think she was using the previous tech's, or her boyfriend's, log-in details in order to preserve the sanctity of her true identity. In truth, it is not a good idea for young female voices to be attached to actual names that can be researched and tracked down to a location. I would have done the same thing in her position and indeed I do it. The fact of the matter is, although one desires to be appreciated and admired on the Internet before an audience of one's peers, one is well-advised to treat one's identity the same as one's chastity. Many people do not seem to understand that. But Piyush, as I call her, understood.

She fixed everything for me. Windows 10 Pro was activated on my new solid state drive, and she was quick about it and rather nice, too. As for me, I was sunshine and butter on popcorn. I had all my ducks in a row. She did not have to do any extra work or waste any time explaining anything to me. I was always two steps ahead of her. I am not surprised things worked out so well for me in the end. If it is at all possible to get a positive result out of technical support, I can do it, because I am technical support, and I like people and get along quite well with them, whatever their age or gender or any other factor that other people seem to think is important. I am neutral and results-focused and results-oriented, but I also like to have fun and joke around, within the parameters of propriety. I had quite a bit of banter with Piyush.

Here is the strange thing that set me blogging with a title of the false name she used.

She liked me. I was the nicest person she spoke to all day or will speak to all week. I walked around in her mind a bit. There were echoes of unpleasant exchanges with abusive callers upset at Microsoft, and I hated that. People don't always understand how difficult computers can be. They don't know how much patience and work is required to get them to function at all. Most people in support have been abused by the ignorant, the impatient, the negligent and the frankly stupid. I am honored and grateful to the Goddess that I am not like that.

After we disconnected, I walked around the house, exuberant that I had fixed the problem and feeling a lingering pleasure from the strangely potent connection with this Piyush lady from India. Five minutes later, there was a phone call. The caller ID indicated a long distance number, but I just knew it was her.

I picked up, and there she was. She had dialed me by mistake, intending to reach her next customer. But really, are there mistakes? Is it so difficult to dial the correct number in a call center? Her subconscious preferred to talk to me again rather than play the fool's lottery on the next caller. I would have loved to talk with her for hours and learn all about her interesting life in India, but that is not such a good idea. I redirected her back to her work with firm pleasantries. I mark her existence only in this blog. Perhaps in another Universe, another reality, who knows? She was a lovely lady. She deserves to be loved. I have said it. The world must do it.

Cassandra

I thought this morning that I'm a Cassandra. It is my doom to see things and tell others what I see, but never to be believed. My Father disregarded all I told him to his detriment. I tried to protect him, but of course he would not listen to me. I do not have the additional power of persuasion. I've grown well-accustomed to not being listened to, but sometimes, I tell people things anyway, out of affection, loyalty, a sense of duty or perhaps just an old habit that was never quite completely broken. Sometimes it amuses me as inexorable Fate proves me right, but people never like to admit they were wrong. Cassandras are resented universally. Silence is best, in general.

The quest after Truth is like the serpentine dance of the dragon. When you think you have her, she has eluded you altogether. Nothing is easy. If someone thinks that the world is easy, they have missed about ninety-nine per cent of the equation.

Nose Buried in His Phone

I vaguely remember an attractive young man, a friend of a friend, who introduced himself to me and several other people, then sat down at a table with us. After a few words, he buried his nose in his phone, surfing the web or whatever it was he was doing, and that was the end of him. I had been preparing polite questions in my mind, but discarded them and decided instead to forget his name, and to this day I don't remember it. That's okay, because he had no relevance. His phone indeed is more interesting than he is, as his behavior implied. He had fought traffic to meet us, but then blown any chance of making a positive impression. I do remember that he was an actor, and I found it amusing that here was a presumably social person, whose career depends upon interaction with others, and his nose is buried in his phone, and he has nothing remotely interesting to say. I learned later that his career went bust, he lost his job and had to move back in with his parents. I guess there isn't a big market for actors that stand on the stage silently fiddling with their phones.

I am the Minority Opinion

Mine is always the minority opinion... until it isn't. I'm amused with the world. Oftentimes I've lamented I was the only one to think so-and-so, such as: gays are equal to straights and not worse (!disputed by everyone I knew!); or, marijuana is better than alcohol and should be legal (!disputed by every adult I knew!); or, religion is dangerous and harmful whenever it is dogmatic (disputed by most, though my father agreed). These, my opinions, stirred controversy. Sometimes, I felt alienated to be a member of what seemed, to me many years ago, only a tiny minority.

The succession of years and momentous events in the world proved me wrong, not in what I believed, but in believing that I was the only one. Indeed my ideas have gained mind-shares, and not through advertising or money or power, but because they are right and because their truth can be experienced by everyone. The merit of my opinions has been vindicated. How lucky that so much change should happen in my lifetime for me to witness it. I have been touched upon the forehead, I have been blessed. My wonder is great, because there was a time I wished to leave this world. I am glad that I opted to remain and would recommend a similar course to anyone.

Earnest Student

The best that can be said about me is that I am an earnest student, willing and eager to learn almost anything, and I prize teachers, anyone who knows something I do not and is willing to share their knowledge freely. I value knowledge. But I have no use for those who hoard their secrets and gloat over their protected nuggets of knowledge.

Just Say No to Suicide

Certainly, young people strike me as silly sometimes. The suicide of young, healthy people seems ridiculous, a ridiculous waste of potential, and I abhor reading about news stories in which a young person has taken their own life, because their motive often seems petty.

What do I know? Was I there? Did I want to die at fifteen? Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I did, and it became a favorite fantasy of mine. If you want to know what I was fantasizing about as a teenage boy, it was Death, He was my suitor, and He was Romantic, Charming, and tempting. I saw into the other side and wanted to be there with the others, because They, the dead, seemed just as good, if not better, than the living. But that was then, and this is now.

I think that life is an opportunity, and we are fortunate to have it, and to waste it seems pointless and rather stupid. Why not see what develops? Patience. Wait and see. To end it all precludes all possibility for anything good unfolding. A young person has a long life ahead and has only experienced a tiny fraction of it so far. Why be hasty and judge the rest as worthless? Wait and see. Things do get better.

Grown-ups sometimes just aren't willing to make any effort towards understanding, because they are set in their ways. Grown-ups are not lazy or stupid, by any means, or rather most of them are not. They tend to be hard-working and clever, but they are fixed in their habits of thinking, and somewhere along the way they may have lost a flexibility of mind, an agility that allows one to walk inside the mind of another.

For instance, being gay or transgender should not be a big deal. So what? There have been and there are millions of gay and transgender kids. Nor is smoking marijuana. These are small things that cause people to freak out, because they haven't enough drama in their life and a secret part of them craves the manufacturing of drama, like on TV.

Once one moves past the brouhaha, one finds that, yes, gay people exist and have good lives, and marijuana does not warp the brain for life after all. As a matter of fact, marijuana is benign, compared to alcohol, for alcohol opens a gateway for the forces of evil to enter our world. Mohammed understood this, at least, but then, it was made obvious to him.

Society labors under a number of delusions that cause much grief. I am glad that back in the day, my instinct to survive was stronger than the desire to end all suffering, because now that I am free, I am all right. Young people go crazy due to the conflict of older people trying to control them and shape them into something that they are not. The simple fact is that children have their own DNA and cannot become perfect clones of parents. They are different not only due to genetic differences but due to the different environment, the modern culture in which they live.

If I were to speak to a young person considering suicide, I would tell them that suicide is wrong for a healthy young person. Being gay is OK, there is nothing wrong with that. Being gay, transgender, or different is not a valid reason to either consider suicide or any form of self-harm, whether it be slicing, drug abuse or risky sexual behavior. Those bad choices are the influence of the voices of darkness, dark forces that enter our world and seek to harm, to destroy. One must be strong and resist these negative impulses. In order to be good, one must be strong. Otherwise, evil wins. Do not give in to the forces of darkness. Do not let them win. If one is a good person, and one enjoys good health, then it is a wicked thing to end life. Think instead on the fate of those left behind, who will be deprived of the positive influences of one's presence. Think instead on the tremendous burdens of grief and regret left upon loved ones. It is a wrong act, a grievous Sin, and must not be permitted.

Young people are too hasty in their judgments, to apt to paint the world in black and white, too impatient with the slow crawl of progress and enlightenment. Understanding takes time. It does not happen overnight. Sometimes years or decades are required. I say wait and see. I say let love enter your heart. Resist the siren call of hatred and bitterness. Resist the voice of despair. Understand that we are limited. Human beings are feeble of mind. Yes, we are fallible in many things. Much of what we perceive may be delusion. Most of the world labors under delusions. Few people ever see the world as it is even for a single moment in time. We see as through a glass darkly. So how can we be so sure of ourselves as to make the rash assumption that life is not worth living, even before we have given it half a chance? A suicide at fourteen is not half a chance, when the average human lives to be seventy or eighty. I say wait and see. I did and I am glad I did.

Be aware there is light in the darkness. Even in the utter dark, the void, there is light that the dark cannot overcome, burning with the intensity of creation. Seek it out, draw from its energy to increase your own, and that will be your salvation.

Effortless

I used to become attached, to love in the old-fashioned romantic sense, which is an immature manner of relating to beautiful and superior beings. It is instinctive, for obvious reasons, but it is primitive, and one must progress past that infantile stage.

The perfect being does not attach in such a way to others. He may admire, respect and even love others. To become completely and utterly attached and thus bound to the material world, to the chain of karma and the cycle of life, that is a vice. He should not become attached. So it is that I do love the beings I encounter, even as I love myself. But they may come or they may go, and I may come or I may go, in life or in death, and all is well, just because. All is well, always and forever, because the cosmos is ordered thus, and it is not even necessary to understand why.

When I was very young, people broke my heart by forgetting, ignoring or otherwise excluding me from their society. How many tears I shed, how much my heart trembled, and life seemed unbearable! Now I smile like the crocodile, because that is no longer possible. Lucky me. I have known and been loved and desired and admired by beautiful and bright superior beings, captains at the very forefront of the Host. So I am thinking, "As good as you are, you are not even in the same league as so-and-so." I have already lived, and now is merely the bonus round, where I might pick up this or that without moving my overall score that much. Humans I understand fundamentally to the core. I have seen it all and known it all before, and nothing is mysterious or strange, and everything is very familiar to me.

Of my sensitivity, it was a disguised gift, and I thought it a curse in my younger days until I learned the shaman's way. Sensitivity is a rare, powerful and useful tool. I have learned to filter my sensitivity and not be overly affected by the things that I perceive. Of course, that is necessary for survival.

Even people's bad manners and petty cruelties and negligence offer insight into the workings of their minds and assist one in the reconstruction of the all-encompassing reality. With such insight, I can construct a more accurate reality based not only upon my own limited perceptions but upon the perceptions of others, so that I perceive more and am not left in ignorance. With such resources, drawing upon what others reveal to me, I can accept what is so and discard illusion.