In my studies in human anatomy, I concluded recently that I have been a sufferer, twice, of spinal disc herniation, based upon my symptoms, outcomes, and contributing factors such as age and job conditions.
None of my doctors ever suggested anything of the sort. Instead, I was met with a blank stare when I asked what the cause of my back pain might be. They neither knew nor wished to determine what ailed me. In the brief moments that I was graced with the presence of a doctor, I was given a prescription for Naproxin, which is inferior to Ibuprofen for lower back pain (doctors, of all people, should know that!) and told to get plenty of rest. How to avoid future episodes of back pain, or my prognosis, was never discussed; not once, ever. This is the state of medical care in the United States, even for a middle-class person who is fully insured. We get drugs--as many opiates as we wish (whip-de-doo)--and are sent back to work stoned, but with a doctor's prescription that will satisfy the drug nazis. Then we get hurt again, and again, and again. Each repeat visit to the hospital or doctor generates more money for them.
If you find yourself suffering excruciating, debilitating, almost paralyzing lower back pain, worse than any pain you have ever known; and if you are between thirty and forty, and if you sit down in a chair for long hours every day, and if this back pain seems to go away after a couple of weeks of bed rest, then you may be a victim of spinal disc herniation as well. Doctors won't share much information with you unless you're a rich person, because working stiffs are not worth helping. They will give you a placebo or, if you beg for it, something to get you high, and then send you off to get injured again.
My suggestion, which you can consider only when you get better, is to begin a regimen of light exercise, gentle to the back, such as walks in the park--not jogging, like I was doing. Also, avoid alcohol at all costs. Use marijuana instead, if you seek inebriation. Sleep well. If you must sit down for long hours at a time in order to do your job, then try to rise once every hour or so and walk around, if only to get a drink of water. If you are a caffeine fiend, then try to tone down your habit. I'm not going to bother discussing nutrition, because I was popping a multivitamin on a daily basis and eating a balanced diet when I suffered my back injuries. Americans are well-fed in general. It may help to lose weight, of course. Extra weight causes additional strain to every part of the body.
Above all else, avoid lifting heavy objects by yourself, especially early in the morning before you have had time to warm up. I have come to dread performing any type of lifting. I used to be gung-ho about lifting, wanting to show off my strength. I could lift people that were my own weight and liked to do so at parties. Now, I remember the weeks spent in bed, writhing in agony, and I wait for a friend to help me. I've had spinal disc herniation twice in my life, and believe me, there were times when death seemed like a wonderful alternative. That was before I discovered ibuprofen on my own without the help of any doctor. Ibuprofen reduces the pain by a surprising degree, something that every doctor in the world should know, but many do not (or perhaps they do know, but receive a kickback from manufacturers of other NSAIDs).
Prior to walking or doing any form of exercise, do not perform an elaborate series of difficult stretches, as some exercise gurus recommend. I have found that stretching injures the back. It has never protected me. Our guide to stretching should be cats, because they are limber and agile. If you ever take the time to observe cats, you may notice that their stretching is gentle and quick. They don't make a big production out of it. They may stretch for a few seconds, but then they go about their business.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
The Idea of Love
As a young man, there were two women that I fell in love with, for worse rather than better. In retrospect, looking back through the years, as I listen to "Too Hot," by Kool & the Gang, which always brings back memories of love, I think I was in love not so much with the women, but more so with the idea of love, being a romantic fool. The individuals were, as it turns out, no better or worse than any other person I might pass on the street at random nor any more attractive. But the cumulative effect of a lifetime of rock-n-roll songs, television shows and movies, books and in particular Jane Austin did have an effect, and I wanted to see what all the singing was about; the women were my mistakes.
Knowing what I do know now of these women, I am glad they are not with me now, because I think they were shrews that would make life not worth living. I look with fondness, not at memories of them, execrable memories, but at the years and distance that separate us, and am more than happy to have been forgotten.
Another reason I remember them at all, besides songs from the Eighties, are stories I wrote that were never published, because like the subjects, they were execrable. Publishers said what I should have said in the first moment of acquaintance. If the DNA ain't right, no amount of effort can breathe life into the sorry lump of clay.
Here's an excerpt that's about as good as any other.
She dropped me off at my home, claiming she needed to run errands by herself. I showered and went to bed, napping four hours. After waking, I called her, and she volunteered to pick me up. I dressed again and went out to the front porch where I waited until she arrived. When she picked me up, I noticed her mood had changed from before. She appeared distracted and gave little input to my attempts at conversation. I offered to treat us to a dinner at a restaurant, which she rejected, or even to rent a hotel room, with the obvious implications, which was also rejected, though not out of any concern over sex. She popped in a tape of Jimmy Buffet and turned up the volume in order to silence me. With no particular place to go, she drove around aimlessly for the greater part of an hour through downtown and then across the bridge to the neighboring city.
Around midnight, she parked in the lot of an apartment complex. I asked her why we had stopped. Instead of replying, she kissed me with passion, pushing her tongue into my mouth. I embraced her. We frenched for what seemed like hours. Sometime in the night, we heard loud voices outside and saw the figures of four young men climbing into a pickup parked beside us. They could see nothing inside her car, because our heavy breathing had misted every square inch of every window. They drove off without comment. I could not resist chuckling, and she smiled too. Our passion had protected us.
I leaned back in my seat, exhausted, but she pulled my shirt up in order to taste me. I reached into her pants, but she pushed me back into my seat and knelt over me, unbuttoning my jeans. Suffice to say, neither of us were in a hurry. At the crucial moment, she sat up in her seat, watching with curiosity as the crisis passed.
She pointed to the time, claiming it was late, and drove to a convenience store, where we purchased sodas. She drove to the old historic district and began driving with no particular place to go. Between an old couple silence is nothing. Between new lovers, thorny questions arise in the silence. I sensed danger. I couldn’t see her face. Only streetlights broke the darkness in her car. There were no other cars on the street. There was no one walking along the sidewalks. The electronic clock in her dashboard read 02:41. We were both tired. I wanted to be in bed. This was all wrong.
She spoke in a tone conveying the gravity of what she had on her mind. “Listen. There’s something I have to tell you. I hope you don’t get mad at me when you hear it. I don’t want to hurt you. I like you a lot. It’s just that there is someone else. I knew him before I met you.”
The him was a her, and she was just dipping her toe in the ocean of heterosexuality out of Catholic guilt and to appease her parents; blah, de blah, de blah, de blah. Her deeds weren't as remarkable as me taking hundreds of precious hours to commit the memory into amateurish prose. That was the truly astounding part, the sitting down at a keyboard to write about something that was worth little more than a dismissive chuckle between hits of ganja.
Knowing what I do know now of these women, I am glad they are not with me now, because I think they were shrews that would make life not worth living. I look with fondness, not at memories of them, execrable memories, but at the years and distance that separate us, and am more than happy to have been forgotten.
Another reason I remember them at all, besides songs from the Eighties, are stories I wrote that were never published, because like the subjects, they were execrable. Publishers said what I should have said in the first moment of acquaintance. If the DNA ain't right, no amount of effort can breathe life into the sorry lump of clay.
Here's an excerpt that's about as good as any other.
She dropped me off at my home, claiming she needed to run errands by herself. I showered and went to bed, napping four hours. After waking, I called her, and she volunteered to pick me up. I dressed again and went out to the front porch where I waited until she arrived. When she picked me up, I noticed her mood had changed from before. She appeared distracted and gave little input to my attempts at conversation. I offered to treat us to a dinner at a restaurant, which she rejected, or even to rent a hotel room, with the obvious implications, which was also rejected, though not out of any concern over sex. She popped in a tape of Jimmy Buffet and turned up the volume in order to silence me. With no particular place to go, she drove around aimlessly for the greater part of an hour through downtown and then across the bridge to the neighboring city.
Around midnight, she parked in the lot of an apartment complex. I asked her why we had stopped. Instead of replying, she kissed me with passion, pushing her tongue into my mouth. I embraced her. We frenched for what seemed like hours. Sometime in the night, we heard loud voices outside and saw the figures of four young men climbing into a pickup parked beside us. They could see nothing inside her car, because our heavy breathing had misted every square inch of every window. They drove off without comment. I could not resist chuckling, and she smiled too. Our passion had protected us.
I leaned back in my seat, exhausted, but she pulled my shirt up in order to taste me. I reached into her pants, but she pushed me back into my seat and knelt over me, unbuttoning my jeans. Suffice to say, neither of us were in a hurry. At the crucial moment, she sat up in her seat, watching with curiosity as the crisis passed.
She pointed to the time, claiming it was late, and drove to a convenience store, where we purchased sodas. She drove to the old historic district and began driving with no particular place to go. Between an old couple silence is nothing. Between new lovers, thorny questions arise in the silence. I sensed danger. I couldn’t see her face. Only streetlights broke the darkness in her car. There were no other cars on the street. There was no one walking along the sidewalks. The electronic clock in her dashboard read 02:41. We were both tired. I wanted to be in bed. This was all wrong.
She spoke in a tone conveying the gravity of what she had on her mind. “Listen. There’s something I have to tell you. I hope you don’t get mad at me when you hear it. I don’t want to hurt you. I like you a lot. It’s just that there is someone else. I knew him before I met you.”
The him was a her, and she was just dipping her toe in the ocean of heterosexuality out of Catholic guilt and to appease her parents; blah, de blah, de blah, de blah. Her deeds weren't as remarkable as me taking hundreds of precious hours to commit the memory into amateurish prose. That was the truly astounding part, the sitting down at a keyboard to write about something that was worth little more than a dismissive chuckle between hits of ganja.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
School Sucked
Stories of the Bible, mythology and tales of the supernatural were my favorite reading material as a boy. I remember being far in the outfield during a tee-ball game and thinking not about the game, which seemed unimportant, but about entities that might contact me, for reasons I couldn't begin to understand, and what they might be like, and what they might say, and what powers they might be willing to share to get me out of difficult situations, such as when a ball dropped near me. I missed about three out of four fly balls, even the easy ones, and in truth all fly balls are easy. Back then I was afraid of the ball and thought it might hit me, and at any rate was uncoordinated and had difficulty performing any type of athletic maneuver, a damning fate for a boy. I envied the girls and thought they had an easier life by far, not being expected to do any of the things that I was expected to do.
My school years were difficult due to bullying, which overshadowed other aspects of school life, but the academic curriculum was easy, being little more than rehashes of previous material with a few new concepts thrown in on rare occasion and all of it taught at a snail's pace. I consider the twelve years in school as having been wasted on meaningless humiliations and degradations. None of the administrators, teachers or other students opposed the bullies, but sometimes the teachers and administrators were themselves bullies, because the staff was rife with rednecks. Concerned people such as my parents would ask me how my day went, and I would say it was hell. The better days were only boring, but the worse days were marked by bruises, physical or spiritual. Betrayals were common, friends becoming enemies just to curry favor with the more popular or else the stronger. There was no homosexual presence among the staff; every employee was at least nominally heterosexual or else maintained an impenetrable shield about their personal life, ensuring that I would feel like an alien from Mars. Growing up under such circumstances, I can see why X led to Y and then Z, and it seems to me, the field was sown and plowed by careless hands, and the scant harvest was their deserves.
I have an open mind when it comes to parents that abandon the public school system to try an alternative educational strategy such as private schools or even home-schooling. Home schooling is not just for religious fundamentalists that fear sex education and evolution. It is not just for racists that hate the presence of minority races. It is also for parents that don't want to put their kids in an environment where they will be unprotected from bullies. And the curriculum of some schools is a joke to say the least. Instead of future leaders, they train future Wal-Mart greeters.
My school years were difficult due to bullying, which overshadowed other aspects of school life, but the academic curriculum was easy, being little more than rehashes of previous material with a few new concepts thrown in on rare occasion and all of it taught at a snail's pace. I consider the twelve years in school as having been wasted on meaningless humiliations and degradations. None of the administrators, teachers or other students opposed the bullies, but sometimes the teachers and administrators were themselves bullies, because the staff was rife with rednecks. Concerned people such as my parents would ask me how my day went, and I would say it was hell. The better days were only boring, but the worse days were marked by bruises, physical or spiritual. Betrayals were common, friends becoming enemies just to curry favor with the more popular or else the stronger. There was no homosexual presence among the staff; every employee was at least nominally heterosexual or else maintained an impenetrable shield about their personal life, ensuring that I would feel like an alien from Mars. Growing up under such circumstances, I can see why X led to Y and then Z, and it seems to me, the field was sown and plowed by careless hands, and the scant harvest was their deserves.
I have an open mind when it comes to parents that abandon the public school system to try an alternative educational strategy such as private schools or even home-schooling. Home schooling is not just for religious fundamentalists that fear sex education and evolution. It is not just for racists that hate the presence of minority races. It is also for parents that don't want to put their kids in an environment where they will be unprotected from bullies. And the curriculum of some schools is a joke to say the least. Instead of future leaders, they train future Wal-Mart greeters.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
How to Disable StickyKeys in Windows
Occasionally in Windows XP, StickyKeys gets confused. Even though it is turned off, it decides, on its own, to turn all of its features on. Why? No reason. Just because. Attempting to remove it via the Control Panel | Accessibility Options does not always work.
Here is the trick. If Accessibility Options fails to update the Registry properly, do it yourself. Go to Start | Run | and type in regedit. Find [HKEY_CURRENT_USER\Control Panel\Accessibility\StickyKeys ] and set the value "Flags"="506". Say goodbye to the annoyance.
Thanks and credit to Annie Cardenas.
Here is the trick. If Accessibility Options fails to update the Registry properly, do it yourself. Go to Start | Run | and type in regedit. Find [HKEY_CURRENT_USER\Control Panel\Accessibility\StickyKeys ] and set the value "Flags"="506". Say goodbye to the annoyance.
Thanks and credit to Annie Cardenas.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Free Desktop Wallpaper
Looking for wallpaper for your desktop? Try this tasteful and non-commercial site, which is quite a rarity. I don't even remember how I found it. It is not one of the top google searches for wallpaper.
Greasle's hobby's [sic]
Of course, I can't be certain there are no ads, because I use Ad Blocker.
Not only does he offer wallpaper based upon masterpieces by William-Adolphe Bouguereau, but beautiful, unsigned, perfect, high-resolution fractals.
Greasle's hobby's [sic]
Of course, I can't be certain there are no ads, because I use Ad Blocker.
Not only does he offer wallpaper based upon masterpieces by William-Adolphe Bouguereau, but beautiful, unsigned, perfect, high-resolution fractals.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
FOX News has a Little Surprise in Store
I used to think of FOX News as the press of Hell, but apparently, they are in favor of the liberalization of Prohibition, which sends me for a loop. I have difficulty reconciling their right-wing views with a solitary enlightened view regarding the wasteful Drug War. Perhaps this precious unicorn represents a minority viewpoint within FOX News, a clique of high-level executives who recognize Prohibition for what it is.
There has long existed a respectable conservative intellectual underpinning for the fight against Prohibition, to be found in Wm. Buckley and his successors, though they always seemed to me to be rather muted and ineffective in their criticism of the Drug War, while being much more vocal on other issues, where they were wrong. In particular, I remember an editorial penned by Buckley and published in my local newspaper, the only Buckley editorial I ever agreed with, in which he pleaded for reduced sentences for marijuana users. Instead of five years imprisonment, he wanted something like a hundred-dollar fine. Even George Will once wrote in defense of a marijuana grower who had been busted because a police helicopter inspected his property without a warrant. George Will made quite clear that he believed the grower deserved punishment. His only objection was to the warrantless search, which he felt was grounds for dismissal of the case. Conservatives sweat bullets at the thought that someone, somewhere, might imagine they have a thinking mind and a beating heart. They always want to appear in step with revered authority figures, even when they criticize certain policies that offend their conscience.
There has long existed a respectable conservative intellectual underpinning for the fight against Prohibition, to be found in Wm. Buckley and his successors, though they always seemed to me to be rather muted and ineffective in their criticism of the Drug War, while being much more vocal on other issues, where they were wrong. In particular, I remember an editorial penned by Buckley and published in my local newspaper, the only Buckley editorial I ever agreed with, in which he pleaded for reduced sentences for marijuana users. Instead of five years imprisonment, he wanted something like a hundred-dollar fine. Even George Will once wrote in defense of a marijuana grower who had been busted because a police helicopter inspected his property without a warrant. George Will made quite clear that he believed the grower deserved punishment. His only objection was to the warrantless search, which he felt was grounds for dismissal of the case. Conservatives sweat bullets at the thought that someone, somewhere, might imagine they have a thinking mind and a beating heart. They always want to appear in step with revered authority figures, even when they criticize certain policies that offend their conscience.
News from Moscow
The idolization of Stalin is a bad sign from the city that denied gays the right to march in a peaceful demonstration.
Monday, March 22, 2010
How to Remove "Send Link" in Firefox
"Send Link" is a pernicious trap for Firefox users that appears whenever the right mouse button is clicked on a link. If this option is chosen, Internet Explorer may load over fifty instances of itself, requiring a power-down of the computer in order for the user to regain control.
The following fix works in Firefox 3.6 and probably previous versions.
In Windows Explorer, navigate to the "C:\Program Files\Mozilla Firefox" folder. Search for "userchrome*.css". (However, see the note below about a possible alternative location.) You may find a file named "userchrome-example.css". Open that file up in a text editor such as Wordpad. Opening it in Notepad may prove problematic due to the way the program interprets certain characters. Add the following text:
Save the file in the same directory* as "userchrome.css".
From now on, no more "Send Link," which was always a bad idea in the first place. I believe it is an option added by Microsoft Office, although I'm not sure.
There may be complications to this fix. On one computer, I discovered that userchrome.css lives in a different place, in the "Documents and Settings" folder. To determine where Firefox polls your userchrome.css, go to Tools | Error Console and enter the following:
This will reveal the precise location of userchrome.css.
*On my computer, the directory was "C:\Program Files\Mozilla Firefox\defaults\profile\chrome".
The following fix works in Firefox 3.6 and probably previous versions.
In Windows Explorer, navigate to the "C:\Program Files\Mozilla Firefox" folder. Search for "userchrome*.css". (However, see the note below about a possible alternative location.) You may find a file named "userchrome-example.css". Open that file up in a text editor such as Wordpad. Opening it in Notepad may prove problematic due to the way the program interprets certain characters. Add the following text:
/* Remove 'Send Link' from context menu*/
menuitem#context-sendlink {
display: none !important;
}
Save the file in the same directory* as "userchrome.css".
From now on, no more "Send Link," which was always a bad idea in the first place. I believe it is an option added by Microsoft Office, although I'm not sure.
There may be complications to this fix. On one computer, I discovered that userchrome.css lives in a different place, in the "Documents and Settings" folder. To determine where Firefox polls your userchrome.css, go to Tools | Error Console and enter the following:
alert(Components.classes["@mozilla.org/file/directory_service;1"].getService(Components.interfaces.nsIProperties).get("ProfD", Components.interfaces.nsIFile).path);
This will reveal the precise location of userchrome.css.
*On my computer, the directory was "C:\Program Files\Mozilla Firefox\defaults\profile\chrome".
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Are U.S. Pot Laws the Root Cause of Mexican Drug Violence?
In a word, yes.
If pot were legal, the drug cartels south of the Border would fall like a house of cards. But one can never tell a Prohibitionist that the way to win a war is not to fight it. The Prohibitionist prefers tilting at windmills like Don Quixote.
If pot were legal, the drug cartels south of the Border would fall like a house of cards. But one can never tell a Prohibitionist that the way to win a war is not to fight it. The Prohibitionist prefers tilting at windmills like Don Quixote.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Queer the Census
The Boston Edge web site has an article about what the U.S. Census means for gays. Gays can even order a free sticker to affix to their Census form. I plan to participate. Census data is used in innumerable studies in academia and elsewhere. It is of great importance to the country.
Food for Thought
The Party for Socialism and Liberation (PSL) is new to me. I just discovered their web site today when I clicked on a news article regarding a lesbian student in Mississippi who was denied the right to take her partner to the high school Prom.
I agree.
In my day, growing up gay, I did not attend any proms. Not even one. The straight kids were the ones that got excited about the prom and about dating. As for me, there was not much dating. High school represented wasted time. There was no learning, no dating, and little of anything other than marking time in a classroom presided over by a warden (called a teacher) in order to earn a diploma of little value toward getting a job. I would have liked to have had some dating, at least. That would have made the teenage years a bit more interesting. The prom would have been a good, safe place to take a date.
The BBC printed a great article on the controversy that should not be a controversy.
After reading the article, I decided to poke about the PSL web site and see what it was all about. I didn't care for PSL's talk about Revolution or the idolization of Castro*. However, this page critiquing the American government makes good points. While I do not endorse the site, I found it interesting. The writing is of a good quality**. I wish they didn't splash red and angry words everywhere, but I suppose that is the traditional style of old-school commies.
It does disturb me that money plays such a big role in elections. I wish that our government was organized more like Canada's, so that small parties could win at least minimal representation in Congress. We could have a viable Green party, Marijuana party, and more. The more parties, the merrier, as far as I'm concerned. This business of having only Democrats and Republicans is stodgy and dodgy. What does party mean anymore?
*As for Castro, he sounds like a louse. Release the political prisoners! I will never understand why radicals discredit themselves by idolizing tyrants. By doing so, they play right into the hands of their supposed enemies.
**The authors at PSL write better than a certain Prohibition opponent, whose petition on Change.org I declined to sign, because it was ungrammatical. I spent an hour rewriting the petition for her so that she would not appear an illiterate pothead. Her reply? "I like it just the way it is. I don't want it to sound like a business letter. Besides, I'm a published author with three books to my name. But thank you for your email and good luck with your future endeavors." Condescending ingrate! That should be the last time I volunteer my proofreading services to anyone on the web. I only did it for her because I happened to agree with what she was saying, but not how she was saying it.
I agree.
In my day, growing up gay, I did not attend any proms. Not even one. The straight kids were the ones that got excited about the prom and about dating. As for me, there was not much dating. High school represented wasted time. There was no learning, no dating, and little of anything other than marking time in a classroom presided over by a warden (called a teacher) in order to earn a diploma of little value toward getting a job. I would have liked to have had some dating, at least. That would have made the teenage years a bit more interesting. The prom would have been a good, safe place to take a date.
The BBC printed a great article on the controversy that should not be a controversy.
After reading the article, I decided to poke about the PSL web site and see what it was all about. I didn't care for PSL's talk about Revolution or the idolization of Castro*. However, this page critiquing the American government makes good points. While I do not endorse the site, I found it interesting. The writing is of a good quality**. I wish they didn't splash red and angry words everywhere, but I suppose that is the traditional style of old-school commies.
*As for Castro, he sounds like a louse. Release the political prisoners! I will never understand why radicals discredit themselves by idolizing tyrants. By doing so, they play right into the hands of their supposed enemies.
**The authors at PSL write better than a certain Prohibition opponent, whose petition on Change.org I declined to sign, because it was ungrammatical. I spent an hour rewriting the petition for her so that she would not appear an illiterate pothead. Her reply? "I like it just the way it is. I don't want it to sound like a business letter. Besides, I'm a published author with three books to my name. But thank you for your email and good luck with your future endeavors." Condescending ingrate! That should be the last time I volunteer my proofreading services to anyone on the web. I only did it for her because I happened to agree with what she was saying, but not how she was saying it.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Vacation Destination Advice
The countries in blue deserve patronage and affection. If you are fortunate enough to have the time and money, shower them with your tourist dollars and your charity. The orange regions may be considered moderate or otherwise. I would never choose to visit the barbaric countries in red, pink and dark red.
Related news: Cambodia?
Monday, March 15, 2010
Older Gays Coming Out for the First Time
With all the media attention focused on younger gays, it is refreshing to see an article in the Associated Press about elderly people who are coming out for the first time.
I have had a bad experience with linking to AP articles. Typically, after a month or two, the links become defunct. I hope this one lasts. If not, search for "Gay seniors come out late, start second lifetime," by Matt Sedensky, reporting from Miami, Florida. It is quite a good read.
I think I had better read more about this "Male Lesbian Complex" mentioned in Sedensky's article. Hmm. I do wish the psychological establishment could render a more pleasant-sounding description than "Complex". Is it really so complex? Of course, psychologists use the word "complex" in the sense of a structure, which begs the question, how was the structure built--and why? The word "Complex" has a bad reputation due to its association with the Oedipus Complex. In my opinion, the word should be abandoned altogether, because it is a superfluous noun appended to self-sufficient phrases. If one thinks of a man as being a kind of male lesbian, why not call him that? Why the "Complex?" I think the word is used for show. "Complex" has scientific connotations in the realm of molecular chemistry. Psychologists are painfully aware that psychology is far from a science, and their desperate yearning for scientific credibility tempts them to borrow scientific terminology, whether necessary or not, in order to improve their standing in public opinion.
The media does a fairly good job reporting on gays these days, far better than in the paranoid past, when we were maligned as everything bad under the sun. I do remember those days, as I was a child and teenager then and grew up with the sense that the world was against me, because it was so written in the local newspaper, in magazines, on television, and everywhere, and reinforced in school and at home.
The strangest thing of all is how widespread a slur against a group of people can become, so that almost everybody, however educated and intelligent, believes in it. The lie detector in many people is not very advanced at all. Evil-doing on a vast scale becomes possible when many people cling to falsehoods. Therein lies the potential for the self-destruction of our species.
I have had a bad experience with linking to AP articles. Typically, after a month or two, the links become defunct. I hope this one lasts. If not, search for "Gay seniors come out late, start second lifetime," by Matt Sedensky, reporting from Miami, Florida. It is quite a good read.
I think I had better read more about this "Male Lesbian Complex" mentioned in Sedensky's article. Hmm. I do wish the psychological establishment could render a more pleasant-sounding description than "Complex". Is it really so complex? Of course, psychologists use the word "complex" in the sense of a structure, which begs the question, how was the structure built--and why? The word "Complex" has a bad reputation due to its association with the Oedipus Complex. In my opinion, the word should be abandoned altogether, because it is a superfluous noun appended to self-sufficient phrases. If one thinks of a man as being a kind of male lesbian, why not call him that? Why the "Complex?" I think the word is used for show. "Complex" has scientific connotations in the realm of molecular chemistry. Psychologists are painfully aware that psychology is far from a science, and their desperate yearning for scientific credibility tempts them to borrow scientific terminology, whether necessary or not, in order to improve their standing in public opinion.
The media does a fairly good job reporting on gays these days, far better than in the paranoid past, when we were maligned as everything bad under the sun. I do remember those days, as I was a child and teenager then and grew up with the sense that the world was against me, because it was so written in the local newspaper, in magazines, on television, and everywhere, and reinforced in school and at home.
The strangest thing of all is how widespread a slur against a group of people can become, so that almost everybody, however educated and intelligent, believes in it. The lie detector in many people is not very advanced at all. Evil-doing on a vast scale becomes possible when many people cling to falsehoods. Therein lies the potential for the self-destruction of our species.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
A Duplicate Image Finder and a Screensaver
I find two PC applications to be indispensable for my art collection--a screen saver and a dupe finder.
"Screen saver" is a bit of a misnomer these days. In the early days of computing, users like yours truly relied upon CRT monitors, which were vulnerable to image "burn-in" if the display remained unchanged over a weekend. After burn-in, a ghost of the image lingered until the monitor was replaced. A wise programmer invented the screen saver to draw fresh new graphics on the display after a predetermined period of inactivity, a technique which avoided the dread burn-in by changing each of the pixels at a regular interval.
These days, people use screen savers not to protect their LCD monitors, but for the sake of appearance and beauty. Screen savers have achieved a high level of artistry. However, I prefer a screen saver that displays art by actual artists, like the type one finds in a museum. I do not care for special effects. All I want is art. Show me a masterpiece for 45 seconds, then zip to the next one without any fuss. Nothing is better for a party than a fully automated art show.
Duplicate images are not much of a problem in the early stages of an art collection. But when one's collection exceeds a thousand pictures, dupe creep rears its ugly head. Some may argue that the occasional duplicate is a trivial concern, because today's hard drives are vast, and images consume little space. That much is true. Duplicate images are a problem when one uses a screen saver to display the art collection. Dupes cause certain images to appear more often than others.
ACDSee, my current image viewer of choice, has a dupe-finding tool that I have used for many years. However, it only detects exact matches, not similar images. If a nerd has added a frame to a picture, altered the resolution by one pixel, inserted annoying text into the picture (or EXIF info to a JPEG), then such a dupe is no longer an exact match, but merely similar, which poses a problem for those of us who obtain art through the web. Also, I do not wish to retain lower resolution versions of similar images. I only want to keep the best-looking version or else the one with the most descriptive title. If someone has affixed their web site url onto a picture, like a barbarian, then that will be the version I discard.
The most common transgression of geeks who do not understand the meaning or purpose of art is to insert annoying text into a painting. The JPEG format was designed with a view toward eliminating that vice. The EXIF portion of a JPEG permits the insertion of many different fields of text. EXIF data is hidden from the casual observer, but readable by any image viewer worth its salt. One of the reasons I went hunting for a good dupe finder was to locate duplicates of otherwise good pictures that have been marred by someone who did not bother to use EXIF. These go directly to the trashcan.
I required a utility that detects similar images, and after much searching, I finally found a suitable solution in Dup Detector 3.0, a fine old piece of freeware made in 2002 by Prismatic Software. It required the better part of a night to analyze a large library of art, but when I woke up in the morning, almost all the work was done. In a directory of 15,000 pictures, it nailed 286 similar (not identical) images that ACDSee failed to find. However, it is prone to crashing under Windows XP SP3.
As for screen savers, I prefer Gphotoshow. It is true that my image viewer, ACDSee, has a built-in screen saver. However, like many of ACDSee's tools, it is inferior to a stand-alone product. In addition, my version of ACDSee tends to crash at random moments. Eventually, I plan to switch over to Irfanview, which may prove to be a more stable product.
The problem with ACDSee's screen saver is that it requires that photos be added inside the ACDSee utility. Adding a collection of over a thousand images causes an almighty hiccup. The dreaded hourglass appears and does not go away for quite some time. It is not a once-only procedure. Each time images are added, this function must be performed. That is why I no longer use ACDSee's screen saver. Gphotoshow allows the simple designation of a directory pathname, from which it will select a random image on the fly. The options can be changed through the Windows Control Panel, which is not possible with ACDSee's product. Gphotoshow is everything one could ever want in a screen saver.
ACDSee has always seemed focused upon superficial issues relating to look and feel rather than improving essential utilities. That is why I recommend Irfanview to other users. It may not be better than ACDSee, but then again, it might be, for all I know. I plan to give it a try next time I install a Windows OS.
"Screen saver" is a bit of a misnomer these days. In the early days of computing, users like yours truly relied upon CRT monitors, which were vulnerable to image "burn-in" if the display remained unchanged over a weekend. After burn-in, a ghost of the image lingered until the monitor was replaced. A wise programmer invented the screen saver to draw fresh new graphics on the display after a predetermined period of inactivity, a technique which avoided the dread burn-in by changing each of the pixels at a regular interval.
These days, people use screen savers not to protect their LCD monitors, but for the sake of appearance and beauty. Screen savers have achieved a high level of artistry. However, I prefer a screen saver that displays art by actual artists, like the type one finds in a museum. I do not care for special effects. All I want is art. Show me a masterpiece for 45 seconds, then zip to the next one without any fuss. Nothing is better for a party than a fully automated art show.
Duplicate images are not much of a problem in the early stages of an art collection. But when one's collection exceeds a thousand pictures, dupe creep rears its ugly head. Some may argue that the occasional duplicate is a trivial concern, because today's hard drives are vast, and images consume little space. That much is true. Duplicate images are a problem when one uses a screen saver to display the art collection. Dupes cause certain images to appear more often than others.
ACDSee, my current image viewer of choice, has a dupe-finding tool that I have used for many years. However, it only detects exact matches, not similar images. If a nerd has added a frame to a picture, altered the resolution by one pixel, inserted annoying text into the picture (or EXIF info to a JPEG), then such a dupe is no longer an exact match, but merely similar, which poses a problem for those of us who obtain art through the web. Also, I do not wish to retain lower resolution versions of similar images. I only want to keep the best-looking version or else the one with the most descriptive title. If someone has affixed their web site url onto a picture, like a barbarian, then that will be the version I discard.
The most common transgression of geeks who do not understand the meaning or purpose of art is to insert annoying text into a painting. The JPEG format was designed with a view toward eliminating that vice. The EXIF portion of a JPEG permits the insertion of many different fields of text. EXIF data is hidden from the casual observer, but readable by any image viewer worth its salt. One of the reasons I went hunting for a good dupe finder was to locate duplicates of otherwise good pictures that have been marred by someone who did not bother to use EXIF. These go directly to the trashcan.
I required a utility that detects similar images, and after much searching, I finally found a suitable solution in Dup Detector 3.0, a fine old piece of freeware made in 2002 by Prismatic Software. It required the better part of a night to analyze a large library of art, but when I woke up in the morning, almost all the work was done. In a directory of 15,000 pictures, it nailed 286 similar (not identical) images that ACDSee failed to find. However, it is prone to crashing under Windows XP SP3.
As for screen savers, I prefer Gphotoshow. It is true that my image viewer, ACDSee, has a built-in screen saver. However, like many of ACDSee's tools, it is inferior to a stand-alone product. In addition, my version of ACDSee tends to crash at random moments. Eventually, I plan to switch over to Irfanview, which may prove to be a more stable product.
The problem with ACDSee's screen saver is that it requires that photos be added inside the ACDSee utility. Adding a collection of over a thousand images causes an almighty hiccup. The dreaded hourglass appears and does not go away for quite some time. It is not a once-only procedure. Each time images are added, this function must be performed. That is why I no longer use ACDSee's screen saver. Gphotoshow allows the simple designation of a directory pathname, from which it will select a random image on the fly. The options can be changed through the Windows Control Panel, which is not possible with ACDSee's product. Gphotoshow is everything one could ever want in a screen saver.
ACDSee has always seemed focused upon superficial issues relating to look and feel rather than improving essential utilities. That is why I recommend Irfanview to other users. It may not be better than ACDSee, but then again, it might be, for all I know. I plan to give it a try next time I install a Windows OS.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
The Schizophrenia Claim, Revisited
The mainstream media is in a tizzy again over research that appears to make an association between cannabis use and schizophrenia.
NORML smashes the lies to bits.
I find NORML to be one of the better blogs on the Internet in terms of writing, research, focus, and persuasiveness.
Schizophrenia has always been a problematic diagnosis in psychology. Some people do not believe that it exists, or that the definition is too broad. There are too many variables at play in the human brain. "One size fits all" seldom fits anyone. The media seems to be unaware of any such difficulty, reporting on schizophrenia as though it possessed as firm a definition as herpes simplex virus 1 (HSV-1). However, the main problem with mainstream media stories on cannabis is that they confuse association with causation, a common error by novices who do not understand how very difficult it is to ever really know something.
Here is the crux of the matter in regard to the cannabis-schizophrenia association documented by researchers in various countries. Those content with their life are unlikely to try inebriating substances of any variety. Those who are not content turn to medicine to heal what ails them. Some turn to traditional caregivers, such as doctors. However, a lack of health insurance causes many to seek remedies of their own. Many turn to alcohol. Others may turn to herbal medicine. Or they may pop pills, legal or not. Many resort to cannabis use, because cannabis is known to have few side effects in comparison to alcohol. Thus, when studying a large group of cannabis users, or for that matter, any class of drug users, one is bound to encounter a higher percentage of those with a different psychology, for example, what traditional psychologists term "schizo," whatever that means (there are conflicting ideas on this topic). Those who sought illegal remedies to self-medicate are unlikely to be receiving much help from the medical profession. Therefore, their prognosis is bound to be poorer than those who refrain from non-prescribed medications. It would be a step in the right direction for writers at popular media outlets to grasp at a minimum the logic contained within this paragraph before attempting to cover scientific research on this topic. But the media is more concerned with grabbing eyeballs to increase revenue, rather than printing anything that approximates the truth. The only news I ever watch on television anymore is "The Daily Show," which comes closer to reality than any of the other shows.
In the past, the media has reported that cannabis caused male sterility, homosexuality, pacifism, aggression, communism, violence, "amotivational syndrome," and a myriad of other supposed malignancies originating from the paranoid fears of the prohibitionists. Prohibiting a benign substance due to unfounded, outlandish fears is in itself a symptom of paranoia. It is the prohibitionists that exhibit signs of paranoid schizophrenia, rather than the cannabis consumers. One transparent delusion after another issues forth in their frantic defense of the indefensible, a counter-productive drug war costing billions of dollars per year with no end in sight.
This is what I believe. Sobriety is the preferred state, the one with optimal efficiency and awareness. Habitual, daily cannabis use is detrimental, although not more so than daily alcohol use. I will not go into all the reasons why, because others have walked that road before me, and I think it is self-evident. Cannabis does not seem to be a good medicine for those suffering from severe mental illness and should not be used for that purpose. However, due to its effects on memory, it may be a potential therapy for those suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder or memories of abuse. Those suffering from social anxiety may receive a benefit from marijuana as well. I would be interested in reviewing the research on targeted therapies for specific dysfunctions.
Substances are not always a good answer for moderate depression. Instead, cultivating adaptive strategies to stress is the key. Here is my game plan for attacking the demon of melancholy.
1. Elimination of toxic social contacts and augmentation of positive social contacts. Sever contact with psychic vampires, but increase contact with good people. There are good people in the world, but sometimes one has to go out and find them.
2. Physical exercise, particularly walking.
3. Improved nutrition, with limits placed on sugar and caffeine intake, and an increase in fruits, vegetables, seafood, and whole grain bread.
4. Interruption of negative thoughts habits, such as brooding, by changing activities/schedules. It is easy to turn into a "creature of habit," but habits must be broken if they are detrimental. For example, if participating in an online message forum is a big downer, due to trolls and hostile internet bullies, just stop doing it. Sooner or later the trolls will find themselves all alone together, and they will find solutions for one another in due course. Their solutions need not involve you.
5. Cultivation of pleasurable activities, such as new hobbies and outlets for creativity. Remember, pleasure is good. Those institutions that teach that pleasure is bad are culpable of maintaining the individual in a permanent state of depression. There are powerful forces in society that actively seek to promote melancholy, bitterness, anger, division and hatred in the world. The influence of these forces must be minimized in an individual's life in order for there to be a possibility of happiness.
NORML smashes the lies to bits.
I find NORML to be one of the better blogs on the Internet in terms of writing, research, focus, and persuasiveness.
Schizophrenia has always been a problematic diagnosis in psychology. Some people do not believe that it exists, or that the definition is too broad. There are too many variables at play in the human brain. "One size fits all" seldom fits anyone. The media seems to be unaware of any such difficulty, reporting on schizophrenia as though it possessed as firm a definition as herpes simplex virus 1 (HSV-1). However, the main problem with mainstream media stories on cannabis is that they confuse association with causation, a common error by novices who do not understand how very difficult it is to ever really know something.
Here is the crux of the matter in regard to the cannabis-schizophrenia association documented by researchers in various countries. Those content with their life are unlikely to try inebriating substances of any variety. Those who are not content turn to medicine to heal what ails them. Some turn to traditional caregivers, such as doctors. However, a lack of health insurance causes many to seek remedies of their own. Many turn to alcohol. Others may turn to herbal medicine. Or they may pop pills, legal or not. Many resort to cannabis use, because cannabis is known to have few side effects in comparison to alcohol. Thus, when studying a large group of cannabis users, or for that matter, any class of drug users, one is bound to encounter a higher percentage of those with a different psychology, for example, what traditional psychologists term "schizo," whatever that means (there are conflicting ideas on this topic). Those who sought illegal remedies to self-medicate are unlikely to be receiving much help from the medical profession. Therefore, their prognosis is bound to be poorer than those who refrain from non-prescribed medications. It would be a step in the right direction for writers at popular media outlets to grasp at a minimum the logic contained within this paragraph before attempting to cover scientific research on this topic. But the media is more concerned with grabbing eyeballs to increase revenue, rather than printing anything that approximates the truth. The only news I ever watch on television anymore is "The Daily Show," which comes closer to reality than any of the other shows.
In the past, the media has reported that cannabis caused male sterility, homosexuality, pacifism, aggression, communism, violence, "amotivational syndrome," and a myriad of other supposed malignancies originating from the paranoid fears of the prohibitionists. Prohibiting a benign substance due to unfounded, outlandish fears is in itself a symptom of paranoia. It is the prohibitionists that exhibit signs of paranoid schizophrenia, rather than the cannabis consumers. One transparent delusion after another issues forth in their frantic defense of the indefensible, a counter-productive drug war costing billions of dollars per year with no end in sight.
This is what I believe. Sobriety is the preferred state, the one with optimal efficiency and awareness. Habitual, daily cannabis use is detrimental, although not more so than daily alcohol use. I will not go into all the reasons why, because others have walked that road before me, and I think it is self-evident. Cannabis does not seem to be a good medicine for those suffering from severe mental illness and should not be used for that purpose. However, due to its effects on memory, it may be a potential therapy for those suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder or memories of abuse. Those suffering from social anxiety may receive a benefit from marijuana as well. I would be interested in reviewing the research on targeted therapies for specific dysfunctions.
Substances are not always a good answer for moderate depression. Instead, cultivating adaptive strategies to stress is the key. Here is my game plan for attacking the demon of melancholy.
1. Elimination of toxic social contacts and augmentation of positive social contacts. Sever contact with psychic vampires, but increase contact with good people. There are good people in the world, but sometimes one has to go out and find them.
2. Physical exercise, particularly walking.
3. Improved nutrition, with limits placed on sugar and caffeine intake, and an increase in fruits, vegetables, seafood, and whole grain bread.
4. Interruption of negative thoughts habits, such as brooding, by changing activities/schedules. It is easy to turn into a "creature of habit," but habits must be broken if they are detrimental. For example, if participating in an online message forum is a big downer, due to trolls and hostile internet bullies, just stop doing it. Sooner or later the trolls will find themselves all alone together, and they will find solutions for one another in due course. Their solutions need not involve you.
5. Cultivation of pleasurable activities, such as new hobbies and outlets for creativity. Remember, pleasure is good. Those institutions that teach that pleasure is bad are culpable of maintaining the individual in a permanent state of depression. There are powerful forces in society that actively seek to promote melancholy, bitterness, anger, division and hatred in the world. The influence of these forces must be minimized in an individual's life in order for there to be a possibility of happiness.
Monday, January 18, 2010
The Family
Recent comment found on a media article about Uganda:
"The Family (or at least some of their members) have been very busy over the years in Uganda "improving" the country, as they probably would do with the USA if they could get away with it. Uganda now has a high rate of HIV infection, because the religious right threatened to remove aid from the country if they didn't stop pushing condoms as being the best way to prevent HIV. They'd done perfectly well and apparently had one of the lowest infection rates in Africa until they were 'helped.'
"Also, members of the Family and other affiliated organizations have been pushing that homosexuality can be cured by prayer. When Rachel Maddow reported on this, they backtracked and issued denials.
"Why on Earth Obama would want to be at the Prayer Breakfast with David Bahati baffles me. Personally, if I were Obama, I would have him banned from the country. Surely the "Kill The Gays Bill" qualifies as hate speech?
"A guy called Jeff Sharlet wrote a book on The Family called The Family: The Secret Fundamentalism at the Heart of American Power. It's well worth a read."
"The Family (or at least some of their members) have been very busy over the years in Uganda "improving" the country, as they probably would do with the USA if they could get away with it. Uganda now has a high rate of HIV infection, because the religious right threatened to remove aid from the country if they didn't stop pushing condoms as being the best way to prevent HIV. They'd done perfectly well and apparently had one of the lowest infection rates in Africa until they were 'helped.'
"Also, members of the Family and other affiliated organizations have been pushing that homosexuality can be cured by prayer. When Rachel Maddow reported on this, they backtracked and issued denials.
"Why on Earth Obama would want to be at the Prayer Breakfast with David Bahati baffles me. Personally, if I were Obama, I would have him banned from the country. Surely the "Kill The Gays Bill" qualifies as hate speech?
"A guy called Jeff Sharlet wrote a book on The Family called The Family: The Secret Fundamentalism at the Heart of American Power. It's well worth a read."
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Surreal
Truth is stranger than fiction. Some of the things I read in the media, I don't think anybody could make up.
The F.B.I. photoshopped a picture of a Spanish M.P. and passed it off as an age-progression photo of Bin Laden.
The F.B.I. photoshopped a picture of a Spanish M.P. and passed it off as an age-progression photo of Bin Laden.
Friday, January 15, 2010
The Engrish of a University Professor
In one of my classes, a foreign professor was asked what a firewire port was. He replied that it protected against viruses and hacking. This was par for the course. He does not understand us, and we do not understand him, unless frequent repetitions are made. Only when he gives assignments do students bother asking him to repeat what he is saying. We learn on our own, using the textbook. The professor is nothing more than the warden who takes attendance and ensures that we sit still, daydreaming in class until the period ends.
Students are being cheated out of their education by these speakers of "Engrish," who should never have been hired in the first place. Professors from the English-speaking world are fine, but professors whose command of English is sub-par have no business teaching in an American classroom.
Students are being cheated out of their education by these speakers of "Engrish," who should never have been hired in the first place. Professors from the English-speaking world are fine, but professors whose command of English is sub-par have no business teaching in an American classroom.
China is an Evil Nation
In China, the authorities hunt for human rights advocates using any means, including hacking.
(Incidentally, this is another article that points out the downside of using Internet Explorer.)
(Incidentally, this is another article that points out the downside of using Internet Explorer.)
How to Spoof Internet Explorer in Firefox
On a rare occasion, those of us who use a browser such as Firefox or Opera may encounter a web site that bans our browser. A message pops up that says, "Sorry, you must use Internet Explorer 6, 7, or 8 in order to access this site."
There is no valid reason for any web designer to ban Firefox or Opera. The most likely motive would be a secret contract with Microsoft Corp. A less likely motive would be the personal prejudice or ignorance of the web designer. If I were designing a web page, and I have done so many a time, then I would not want to exclude a big chunk of the user population from the get-go. But in the university setting, it is possible to require students to use Internet Explorer.
To spoof IE 6, 7, or 8 in Firefox, install this add-on by Chris Pederick.
However, be aware that some sites, such as those run by university computer training providers, have cunning little tricks up their sleeve intended to limit access, even when IE is spoofed. I spent an hour this morning attempting to complete my assignments at home using Firefox spoofing IE, only to discover that the provider discards all of my classwork and returns me to the first question in an endless loop.
There is no valid reason for any web designer to ban Firefox or Opera. The most likely motive would be a secret contract with Microsoft Corp. A less likely motive would be the personal prejudice or ignorance of the web designer. If I were designing a web page, and I have done so many a time, then I would not want to exclude a big chunk of the user population from the get-go. But in the university setting, it is possible to require students to use Internet Explorer.
To spoof IE 6, 7, or 8 in Firefox, install this add-on by Chris Pederick.
However, be aware that some sites, such as those run by university computer training providers, have cunning little tricks up their sleeve intended to limit access, even when IE is spoofed. I spent an hour this morning attempting to complete my assignments at home using Firefox spoofing IE, only to discover that the provider discards all of my classwork and returns me to the first question in an endless loop.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Christian Toleration
The Christian nations of the West appear centuries ahead of the Muslim nations, even the supposedly "advanced" and "Westernized" Muslim nations like Malaysia, where a Protestant church was firebombed because a Catholic newspaper dared to use the word "Allah" in a respectful manner. (Apparently, no distinction is made in the Muslim mind between Protestant and Catholic.) Muslims in Malaysia face sanctions for a variety of harmless choices, such as converting to a different religion. Imagine the outcry if the United States prosecuted people for converting from Christianity. In the West, converting to Islam is not regarded as a matter for law enforcement and does not arouse vigilante violence. In Malaysia, the death penalty applies for a wide variety of minor offenses, such as trafficking in marijuana, and yet Malaysia happens to be one of the moderate Islamic countries, on a par with nations such as Dubai or Turkey. A more bloodthirsty religion than Islam would be difficult to find in all the world.
The Christian nations tend to look better upon inspection with regard to human rights, freedom of religion, and freedom of speech. The main exceptions to this rule would be found in Africa, where countries like Uganda are still mired in the Middle Ages and intent upon butchering and brutalizing their own people.
The Christian nations tend to look better upon inspection with regard to human rights, freedom of religion, and freedom of speech. The main exceptions to this rule would be found in Africa, where countries like Uganda are still mired in the Middle Ages and intent upon butchering and brutalizing their own people.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Part of the Joy of the Democratic Process
Politician who supports death penalty for Uganda gays:
“There is nothing really that can discourage me from moving forward. As you know, this is the process of legislation – you get criticism. This is part of the joy of the democratic process.”
- from the Irish Times
---
Are you feeling the joy? I think I'm feeling something more along the lines of hate. If that guy feels joy, then it must be the joy that derives from sadism.
I'm not too sure about the Irish Times' claim that evangelical groups were behind the measure. Remember, Jimmy Carter is an evangelical Christian, too, and plenty of evangelicals don't have a problem with gays. However, there is a great deal of paranoia and distorted thinking over on the Religious Right, which comprises a subgroup within the larger group of evangelicals. I think it is safe to assume that there was transference of paranoia and distorted thinking from the West over to Africa. Uganda is a reflection of the frustration felt by the Religious Right in the U.S. They are frustrated because they are losing. Ignorance and prejudice does not play well in areas where there is freedom of speech.
“There is nothing really that can discourage me from moving forward. As you know, this is the process of legislation – you get criticism. This is part of the joy of the democratic process.”
- from the Irish Times
---
Are you feeling the joy? I think I'm feeling something more along the lines of hate. If that guy feels joy, then it must be the joy that derives from sadism.
I'm not too sure about the Irish Times' claim that evangelical groups were behind the measure. Remember, Jimmy Carter is an evangelical Christian, too, and plenty of evangelicals don't have a problem with gays. However, there is a great deal of paranoia and distorted thinking over on the Religious Right, which comprises a subgroup within the larger group of evangelicals. I think it is safe to assume that there was transference of paranoia and distorted thinking from the West over to Africa. Uganda is a reflection of the frustration felt by the Religious Right in the U.S. They are frustrated because they are losing. Ignorance and prejudice does not play well in areas where there is freedom of speech.
According to Leviticus
"According to Leviticus, shaving one's beard is a sin. Getting a tattoo or wearing a cotton-poly T-shirt (or any garment of mixed fiber) will also incur God's wrath."
-source: p.85, "Are You Kidding Me? Fun Facts that Feel Like They Can't Be True," by Harry Bright and Jakob Answer.
-source: p.85, "Are You Kidding Me? Fun Facts that Feel Like They Can't Be True," by Harry Bright and Jakob Answer.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Defeat in New Jersey
The New Jersey Senate defeated a gay marriage bill, which is a symbolic defeat. The lion's share of marriage privileges derive from the Fed, rather than the state. I was not holding my breath for gay marriage in New Jersey. It would not be worth it to me to move to New Jersey in order to get a state-recognized, but not federally recognized marriage.
The absence of gay marriage doesn't mean that gays won't continue to form monogamous unions or that couples won't stay together. It just presents an obstacle in the legal sphere, an obstacle that must be overcome by future generations. The arguments put forth by both sides have been recorded for posterity. As far as I'm concerned, it is obvious that the side in favor of gay marriage is right. An end to the ghetto is envisioned. Assimilation, rather than separation. Openness and forthrightness. If a more productive work force is desired, then gay marriage should become law.
The opposition to gay marriage seems small-minded in every sense of the word. I was particularly amused at one legislator's observation that in this time of economic distress, we cannot envision making such a sweeping social change. What better time? In good times, people want things to remain the same.
Here's another quote from the article: "gay marriage would weaken the social fabric by redefining one of society’s bedrock institutions." You know, I'd like to wash my social fabric. Is it polyester or cotton? Does it respond best to warm, hot, or cold water? Marriage isn't a bedrock, Sir, although it may make the bed rock. Actually, gay marriage would strengthen the social fabric. We could go from, say, silk, to nylon, which can stretch and remain strong.
If I could marry and obtain the crucial privileges bestowed by marriage, then it would have a huge impact upon my life in a practical sense, because my partner is from another country. We would no longer have to wrestle with immigration. Tens of thousands of dollars in lawyer's fees and government fees could go instead toward other things in life. I could work a corporate job and get coverage for my partner thereby.
I have explained this to my friends a hundred times, but here I go again. State recognition is insufficient. The Fed controls immigration rules. Today, the immigration privilege applies to heterosexual couples only. Former Sen. Bob Barr played a role in ensuring that that particular discrepancy remained when he defeated a measure that would have addressed it as far back as the Clinton administration. Bob Barr's singing a different tune on various issues, such as marijuana, so I don't know what he thinks now, but I would have preferred that he had not interfered with my life. I'm poorer today because of Bob Barr, an ironic Libertarian. The only thing I remember him being passionate about in his career was using Government to restrict the rights of the individual.
In the current environment, there is not just discrimination to contend with, but legal exclusion. The law itself is the problem, rather than just a handful of bigots here and there. I do not know of any easy solution, because the law is unyielding, and we are trapped in a systematic injustice. My current plan is to switch careers. I plan to enter the medical profession, where I can train as a skilled worker and hopefully one day immigrate to Canada, which does have gay marriage as well as universal health care. Canada is the Promised Land for gay Americans. If you are educated and experienced, it is the place to go.
The absence of gay marriage doesn't mean that gays won't continue to form monogamous unions or that couples won't stay together. It just presents an obstacle in the legal sphere, an obstacle that must be overcome by future generations. The arguments put forth by both sides have been recorded for posterity. As far as I'm concerned, it is obvious that the side in favor of gay marriage is right. An end to the ghetto is envisioned. Assimilation, rather than separation. Openness and forthrightness. If a more productive work force is desired, then gay marriage should become law.
The opposition to gay marriage seems small-minded in every sense of the word. I was particularly amused at one legislator's observation that in this time of economic distress, we cannot envision making such a sweeping social change. What better time? In good times, people want things to remain the same.
Here's another quote from the article: "gay marriage would weaken the social fabric by redefining one of society’s bedrock institutions." You know, I'd like to wash my social fabric. Is it polyester or cotton? Does it respond best to warm, hot, or cold water? Marriage isn't a bedrock, Sir, although it may make the bed rock. Actually, gay marriage would strengthen the social fabric. We could go from, say, silk, to nylon, which can stretch and remain strong.
If I could marry and obtain the crucial privileges bestowed by marriage, then it would have a huge impact upon my life in a practical sense, because my partner is from another country. We would no longer have to wrestle with immigration. Tens of thousands of dollars in lawyer's fees and government fees could go instead toward other things in life. I could work a corporate job and get coverage for my partner thereby.
I have explained this to my friends a hundred times, but here I go again. State recognition is insufficient. The Fed controls immigration rules. Today, the immigration privilege applies to heterosexual couples only. Former Sen. Bob Barr played a role in ensuring that that particular discrepancy remained when he defeated a measure that would have addressed it as far back as the Clinton administration. Bob Barr's singing a different tune on various issues, such as marijuana, so I don't know what he thinks now, but I would have preferred that he had not interfered with my life. I'm poorer today because of Bob Barr, an ironic Libertarian. The only thing I remember him being passionate about in his career was using Government to restrict the rights of the individual.
In the current environment, there is not just discrimination to contend with, but legal exclusion. The law itself is the problem, rather than just a handful of bigots here and there. I do not know of any easy solution, because the law is unyielding, and we are trapped in a systematic injustice. My current plan is to switch careers. I plan to enter the medical profession, where I can train as a skilled worker and hopefully one day immigrate to Canada, which does have gay marriage as well as universal health care. Canada is the Promised Land for gay Americans. If you are educated and experienced, it is the place to go.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Any Takers?
When I found out today how much my blog is worth, I thought, "Dayum! time to put 'er up for sale!"
Any takers?
The estimate may be just a tad on the optimistic side.
My site is worth$3,176.4Your website value?
Any takers?
The estimate may be just a tad on the optimistic side.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Cats
Between gnats and cats, I think I'd rather be a cat, a more appealing creature than a gnat. Cats are where it's at. None but a dog would refute that.
As a were-cat, I could befriend anyone worth befriending. I don't think I'd care for the diet of most house cats, though. I'd prefer to introduce myself to an old and lonely rich widow or widower, and perform tricks demonstrating superior feline intelligence. My tricks would be simple, mind you, such as standing on my hind legs and pointing up at the sky. An astonishing feat, such as communicating, would attract unwelcome notoriety, leading to scientists, confinement, experiments, x-ray machines, and dissection. As a were-cat, discretion is essential, because escape is uncertain in confined areas.
---
Cats think. They have simple minds, but they think. They are poor at using tools, only because their paws were never adapted to holding. But I have watched my cat try to open a door using the same mechanism that I use, a doorknob. He climbs up on a shelf and tries to reach the doorknob, but it is difficult to grasp, and in the end he gives up. But he often attempts to open a door from the floor-level, by reaching a paw underneath and pulling the door toward him. Sometimes he succeeds.
A cat absorbs all that is around him. He looks for routes of escape, comfortable perches, inaccessible perches and hiding places, and he remembers all those details for later reference. He keeps a mental file on every human he encounters. A human that makes a favorable impression is remembered and welcomed with much purring later. A human that makes a poor impression, most often a careless child that thinks a small creature is a toy, is feared.
Cats communicate via body language most of all. They do not vocalize like we do. They are not large predators and have to get by upon stealth, which does not favor vocalizing. If your cat vocalizes, it may be a sign of learned behavior modeled upon its adoptive parent. My cat sometimes makes an utterance for no other reason than it feels bored and craves attention. This is not typical catlike behavior.
Cats are simple creatures, free of the intellectual noise of a human brain. They are not complex, but have a limited scope of thoughts. Their feelings, however, have a wider range. They are capable of just as many feelings as we are. I have seen my cats express jealousy of each other and envy of each other. They sometimes express loneliness, or fear of abandonment. Our cats know when we are about to leave on a vacation, and they don't like it at all. Cats dislike change of any kind. They prefer routine.
To read a cat's thoughts, examine its face and tail. The tail betrays irritation. If the tail twitches, the cat is annoyed or wants to use the litter box. The face expresses emotion. The eyes of a cat can be read in much the same way as the eyes of a human. As with us, a cat's narrowed eyes indicate suspicion, wrath, misgiving. Open, wide eyes may mean fear, especially if the rest of the body is tense, as though preparing for flight, or if it hunches down to make itself appear smaller. On the other hand, large eyes may mean happiness and affection, especially if it seems relaxed and cooperative.
Cats do love, but they are selfish and have a dim understanding and appreciation for what love means. Never expect consideration or sympathy from a cat when you are sick. However, a cat will return affection to a certain extent, in its own way and under its own terms.
Cats are not skilled at reading the thoughts of human beings. To them, we are mysterious giants with certain god-like powers, such as the power over light and darkness, but they soon discover that we are slow, unstealthy, and sometimes behave in ways beyond their comprehension. Cats prefer predictability, and humans are not always predictable. The phone may ring, and a few minutes later a human leaves the house for several days. The cat does not know why. It is bizarre, another strange human custom that cannot be explained.
Remember that a cat is a tiny guest, deserving care and consideration. If not raised under human supervision, it would fear us in the natural world by instinct due to our massive size. A tame animal must be treated with gentleness, so that it remains tame and does not learn to fear humans. Once a cat begins to fear humans, it will hide all the time under beds and tables and only come out for brief periods to feed. This makes a poor pet of little value to anyone, and the animal will not be happy about things either.
They do not understand all the reasons for why humans do what they do, but their fear of us leads them to follow certain rules, such as using the litter box, or refraining from the destruction of furniture. Other rules they may never master. It is better not to try to teach very much to a cat. If you can potty-train a cat, that should be enough.
I have never been able to break the cat of the habit of drinking out of the toilet. It will get a drink while I'm not looking, and the only way I know what it has done is by the wetness of its arms and face. The best solution I found is to leave the toilet seat cover down.
My cat comes when called by its name, but only sometimes. This was a voluntary habit that it learned as a result of my rewarding it with praise when it came. If other people are around, it will not obey. If it is too tired, it will not obey. Cats view commands as requests made by a friend, subject to refusal. That is how we should view our commands, as well.
As a were-cat, I could befriend anyone worth befriending. I don't think I'd care for the diet of most house cats, though. I'd prefer to introduce myself to an old and lonely rich widow or widower, and perform tricks demonstrating superior feline intelligence. My tricks would be simple, mind you, such as standing on my hind legs and pointing up at the sky. An astonishing feat, such as communicating, would attract unwelcome notoriety, leading to scientists, confinement, experiments, x-ray machines, and dissection. As a were-cat, discretion is essential, because escape is uncertain in confined areas.
---
Cats think. They have simple minds, but they think. They are poor at using tools, only because their paws were never adapted to holding. But I have watched my cat try to open a door using the same mechanism that I use, a doorknob. He climbs up on a shelf and tries to reach the doorknob, but it is difficult to grasp, and in the end he gives up. But he often attempts to open a door from the floor-level, by reaching a paw underneath and pulling the door toward him. Sometimes he succeeds.
A cat absorbs all that is around him. He looks for routes of escape, comfortable perches, inaccessible perches and hiding places, and he remembers all those details for later reference. He keeps a mental file on every human he encounters. A human that makes a favorable impression is remembered and welcomed with much purring later. A human that makes a poor impression, most often a careless child that thinks a small creature is a toy, is feared.
Cats communicate via body language most of all. They do not vocalize like we do. They are not large predators and have to get by upon stealth, which does not favor vocalizing. If your cat vocalizes, it may be a sign of learned behavior modeled upon its adoptive parent. My cat sometimes makes an utterance for no other reason than it feels bored and craves attention. This is not typical catlike behavior.
Cats are simple creatures, free of the intellectual noise of a human brain. They are not complex, but have a limited scope of thoughts. Their feelings, however, have a wider range. They are capable of just as many feelings as we are. I have seen my cats express jealousy of each other and envy of each other. They sometimes express loneliness, or fear of abandonment. Our cats know when we are about to leave on a vacation, and they don't like it at all. Cats dislike change of any kind. They prefer routine.
To read a cat's thoughts, examine its face and tail. The tail betrays irritation. If the tail twitches, the cat is annoyed or wants to use the litter box. The face expresses emotion. The eyes of a cat can be read in much the same way as the eyes of a human. As with us, a cat's narrowed eyes indicate suspicion, wrath, misgiving. Open, wide eyes may mean fear, especially if the rest of the body is tense, as though preparing for flight, or if it hunches down to make itself appear smaller. On the other hand, large eyes may mean happiness and affection, especially if it seems relaxed and cooperative.
Cats do love, but they are selfish and have a dim understanding and appreciation for what love means. Never expect consideration or sympathy from a cat when you are sick. However, a cat will return affection to a certain extent, in its own way and under its own terms.
Cats are not skilled at reading the thoughts of human beings. To them, we are mysterious giants with certain god-like powers, such as the power over light and darkness, but they soon discover that we are slow, unstealthy, and sometimes behave in ways beyond their comprehension. Cats prefer predictability, and humans are not always predictable. The phone may ring, and a few minutes later a human leaves the house for several days. The cat does not know why. It is bizarre, another strange human custom that cannot be explained.
Remember that a cat is a tiny guest, deserving care and consideration. If not raised under human supervision, it would fear us in the natural world by instinct due to our massive size. A tame animal must be treated with gentleness, so that it remains tame and does not learn to fear humans. Once a cat begins to fear humans, it will hide all the time under beds and tables and only come out for brief periods to feed. This makes a poor pet of little value to anyone, and the animal will not be happy about things either.
They do not understand all the reasons for why humans do what they do, but their fear of us leads them to follow certain rules, such as using the litter box, or refraining from the destruction of furniture. Other rules they may never master. It is better not to try to teach very much to a cat. If you can potty-train a cat, that should be enough.
I have never been able to break the cat of the habit of drinking out of the toilet. It will get a drink while I'm not looking, and the only way I know what it has done is by the wetness of its arms and face. The best solution I found is to leave the toilet seat cover down.
My cat comes when called by its name, but only sometimes. This was a voluntary habit that it learned as a result of my rewarding it with praise when it came. If other people are around, it will not obey. If it is too tired, it will not obey. Cats view commands as requests made by a friend, subject to refusal. That is how we should view our commands, as well.
Gnats
I have an infestation of gnats in my study. They are attracted to my LCD monitor, where I swat them. I'm as fast with my hands as a frog with his tongue. Well, maybe not quite that fast, but close.
I'm in awe of frogs. How can they remain stock still for hours on end, only to launch a lightening-fast attack? I hope to watch a documentary one day about frogs that explains all. About gnats, I have less interest. I understand that most of their body is composed of their jaw (or is that the flea? I don't recall).
---
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to retain all my brains, such as they are, and assume the form of a gnat. I could observe all the details of other people's lives without their being aware.
I prefer to imagine not being swatted, sprayed with insecticide, or being seized by a Venus Flytrap. Upon reflection, there are many hazards attending the life of a gnat. The sole advantage is espionage.
If I could be a gnat for a day, visit the headquarters of the rich and powerful, and then fly back home and resume the form of a human being, then I could put whatever information I obtained to good use. Maybe I could uncover scandals or crimes of great importance to the public. Or maybe I would learn of a certain stock to buy or sell at great profit, the same sort of behavior that sent Martha Stewart to prison.
I wonder if I would prove equal to the ethical challenges of being a were-gnat. I hope that I would be a good were-gnat and try to make the world a better place, rather than just enriching myself at the expense of others, as so many other lycanthropes do.
---
Spell to Surrender to Sleep
A fear that enforces wakefulness may seem large and threatening, but it is a gnat in need of swatting. You are more powerful than that which you fear. Remember that life and death are not serious alternatives, but only seem so for a brief span of time. Power surrounds you and nourishes you even in the darkness. Though your ears remain alert for the approach of danger, sleep, sleep, sleep and dream, just as your ancestors did in the wilderness long ago, and remember your dreams, for they will guide you.
I'm in awe of frogs. How can they remain stock still for hours on end, only to launch a lightening-fast attack? I hope to watch a documentary one day about frogs that explains all. About gnats, I have less interest. I understand that most of their body is composed of their jaw (or is that the flea? I don't recall).
---
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to retain all my brains, such as they are, and assume the form of a gnat. I could observe all the details of other people's lives without their being aware.
I prefer to imagine not being swatted, sprayed with insecticide, or being seized by a Venus Flytrap. Upon reflection, there are many hazards attending the life of a gnat. The sole advantage is espionage.
If I could be a gnat for a day, visit the headquarters of the rich and powerful, and then fly back home and resume the form of a human being, then I could put whatever information I obtained to good use. Maybe I could uncover scandals or crimes of great importance to the public. Or maybe I would learn of a certain stock to buy or sell at great profit, the same sort of behavior that sent Martha Stewart to prison.
I wonder if I would prove equal to the ethical challenges of being a were-gnat. I hope that I would be a good were-gnat and try to make the world a better place, rather than just enriching myself at the expense of others, as so many other lycanthropes do.
---
Spell to Surrender to Sleep
A fear that enforces wakefulness may seem large and threatening, but it is a gnat in need of swatting. You are more powerful than that which you fear. Remember that life and death are not serious alternatives, but only seem so for a brief span of time. Power surrounds you and nourishes you even in the darkness. Though your ears remain alert for the approach of danger, sleep, sleep, sleep and dream, just as your ancestors did in the wilderness long ago, and remember your dreams, for they will guide you.
The First Time I Came Out
Time for a stroll down Memory Lane! This time, I'm wearing rose-tinted glasses to see what is good, disguising what was not. If the memories are altered, then so be it! I've grown weary of drama. What I want is a feel-good story.
---
[A long battle with Writer's Block took place here at this spot.]
---
Now I have the title. Getting the title is nine-tenths of the battle. The rest comes easy.
"The First Time I Came Out."
My brother was the first to tell me that there was a gay bar in town. I was seventeen at the time. I didn't believe him. I lived in a small Southern city in the 1980's, and homosexuality just wasn't discussed by anyone I knew, save in derogatory terms of horror, contempt and curiosity. But my brother saw the exterior of the gay bar in his travels around town. All he knew was that it had a sign out front that stated, in all capital letters (don't worry, reader, I will spare you the caps), "This is a gay bar. Do not enter the premises unless you are a homosexual." He thought the sign was funny, and so did I, but I imagine it was designed to defuse potential conflicts and misunderstandings. When I asked him where it was located, he looked at me with suspicion, and asked why I wanted to know. I looked away, made excuses and resolved never to bring the subject up again. Except I did. More than once or twice. Eventually it transpired that he had forgotten the location, or else he felt it unwise to share such dangerous information with a young and impressionable mind such as mine. Undeterred, I examined the phone book, looking for nightclubs or bars with a gay-sounding name, without success. After that, I made a couple of trips around the city, looking for the sign that my brother had described, but I never found it.
Two years later, I was taken to all of the gay bars in town in one night by an older man that I had met on my own, in the wild, so to speak. Stepping into a gay bar for the first time, as a gay man, is difficult to describe to those who are not gay, but I will try. Imagine that you are an American living in China, and you step into a bar filled with Americans. They greet you, their fellow countryman, with a smile. That is the best analogy that I can make.
I was too young to drink, and so I drank Coca-Cola. My companion had a smile as wide as mine, because he was showing me off, while I was coming to terms with not being the only one, ever again. I shook hands with many men, but remember little of what was said. It was in the line of good humor and advice to the new initiate. I did not remember the names of anyone I was introduced to. I felt happiness as well as sensory overload.
There was a good-looking black man of twenty-five or so standing beside a video game machine, and he said the only words that I remembered from the whole experience. We only looked at each other, and as if in response to the question he read in my eyes, he said, "Yes, you are beautiful." I thanked him and paid him a compliment in return. Emboldened, he asked me what my name was, and I made something up that sounded appropriate. I should have given him my number, but felt loyalty to the one who had brought me and paid my way.
---
[A long battle with Writer's Block took place here at this spot.]
---
Now I have the title. Getting the title is nine-tenths of the battle. The rest comes easy.
"The First Time I Came Out."
My brother was the first to tell me that there was a gay bar in town. I was seventeen at the time. I didn't believe him. I lived in a small Southern city in the 1980's, and homosexuality just wasn't discussed by anyone I knew, save in derogatory terms of horror, contempt and curiosity. But my brother saw the exterior of the gay bar in his travels around town. All he knew was that it had a sign out front that stated, in all capital letters (don't worry, reader, I will spare you the caps), "This is a gay bar. Do not enter the premises unless you are a homosexual." He thought the sign was funny, and so did I, but I imagine it was designed to defuse potential conflicts and misunderstandings. When I asked him where it was located, he looked at me with suspicion, and asked why I wanted to know. I looked away, made excuses and resolved never to bring the subject up again. Except I did. More than once or twice. Eventually it transpired that he had forgotten the location, or else he felt it unwise to share such dangerous information with a young and impressionable mind such as mine. Undeterred, I examined the phone book, looking for nightclubs or bars with a gay-sounding name, without success. After that, I made a couple of trips around the city, looking for the sign that my brother had described, but I never found it.
Two years later, I was taken to all of the gay bars in town in one night by an older man that I had met on my own, in the wild, so to speak. Stepping into a gay bar for the first time, as a gay man, is difficult to describe to those who are not gay, but I will try. Imagine that you are an American living in China, and you step into a bar filled with Americans. They greet you, their fellow countryman, with a smile. That is the best analogy that I can make.
I was too young to drink, and so I drank Coca-Cola. My companion had a smile as wide as mine, because he was showing me off, while I was coming to terms with not being the only one, ever again. I shook hands with many men, but remember little of what was said. It was in the line of good humor and advice to the new initiate. I did not remember the names of anyone I was introduced to. I felt happiness as well as sensory overload.
There was a good-looking black man of twenty-five or so standing beside a video game machine, and he said the only words that I remembered from the whole experience. We only looked at each other, and as if in response to the question he read in my eyes, he said, "Yes, you are beautiful." I thanked him and paid him a compliment in return. Emboldened, he asked me what my name was, and I made something up that sounded appropriate. I should have given him my number, but felt loyalty to the one who had brought me and paid my way.
No Sooner Do I Praise a Corporation...
No sooner do I write a post on my blog that praises AT&T, than I receive a postcard in the mail from AT&T destroying my favorable impression about that corporation.
I had boasted of AT&T's Internet service having 99.99% reliability. Well, that part still applies. Yesterday, AT&T sent all of their customers a nasty postcard that read, in part (paraphrasing), "your user agreement has been amended [without your consent] to let us call you at any time for telemarketing purposes. We may robocall, use anonymous numbers, or any third-party minion of our choosing to interrupt you at dinner-time with pointless adverts designed to waste your time."
I had boasted of AT&T's Internet service having 99.99% reliability. Well, that part still applies. Yesterday, AT&T sent all of their customers a nasty postcard that read, in part (paraphrasing), "your user agreement has been amended [without your consent] to let us call you at any time for telemarketing purposes. We may robocall, use anonymous numbers, or any third-party minion of our choosing to interrupt you at dinner-time with pointless adverts designed to waste your time."
Saturday, January 2, 2010
New Year's Resolutions
A friend of mine resolved that from now on, he would reject any glass of wine offered at a party. I asked him what his policy would be on beer. "That," he said, "will be decided on a case-by-case basis."
Friday, January 1, 2010
Charity to Strangers in Distant Lands
Charities may give a skinny penny out of every dollar to the actual people they are collecting for. There are too many charities and too little oversight. In general, the bigger and older the charity, the better. A large charity is likely to enjoy economy of scale and be more efficient. It is also likely to attract enough attention to remain honest in its dealings, rather than devoting most of its income to maintaining its staff.
When Westerners give to Third World nations, they may fail to consider who they are giving to and what their aims and motives might be. They give because it gives them a fuzzy feeling inside, which is all right, but where does the money ultimately go, and who benefits? Throwing money into a blind alleyway to unknown strangers is not a good way to distribute charity.
Here is a recent case of a Somali man who entered Denmark with bloody murder on his mind. I wonder whether he was fed and nourished by Western aid at some point in his life. Some in Third World countries have different values than we do. If they were better off, they would choose to harm, rather than help us. They might interpret our cartoons, poetry, fiction, movies, or editorials in a negative light and target us for killing. I'm reminded of Uganda, which has declared that they will murder all homosexuals and imprison anyone who knows of a homosexual and does not inform authorities. Contributing to relief in Uganda would be like paying for the nourishment of future murderers. There is a case in Malawi where the police want to conduct humiliating medical exams on gay men to prove they had "unnatural relations," punishable by a lengthy prison term.
I prefer for charity to begin at home. I'm more familiar with people that live around me and would rather tend to them than unknown strangers in a distant land, who might be villains for all I know. I think there is a kind of self-loathing that causes people in developed countries to shrink from helping their own countrymen, but to look to distant lands to bestow gifts. In this way, they assist those who may later prove to be villains.
When Westerners give to Third World nations, they may fail to consider who they are giving to and what their aims and motives might be. They give because it gives them a fuzzy feeling inside, which is all right, but where does the money ultimately go, and who benefits? Throwing money into a blind alleyway to unknown strangers is not a good way to distribute charity.
Here is a recent case of a Somali man who entered Denmark with bloody murder on his mind. I wonder whether he was fed and nourished by Western aid at some point in his life. Some in Third World countries have different values than we do. If they were better off, they would choose to harm, rather than help us. They might interpret our cartoons, poetry, fiction, movies, or editorials in a negative light and target us for killing. I'm reminded of Uganda, which has declared that they will murder all homosexuals and imprison anyone who knows of a homosexual and does not inform authorities. Contributing to relief in Uganda would be like paying for the nourishment of future murderers. There is a case in Malawi where the police want to conduct humiliating medical exams on gay men to prove they had "unnatural relations," punishable by a lengthy prison term.
I prefer for charity to begin at home. I'm more familiar with people that live around me and would rather tend to them than unknown strangers in a distant land, who might be villains for all I know. I think there is a kind of self-loathing that causes people in developed countries to shrink from helping their own countrymen, but to look to distant lands to bestow gifts. In this way, they assist those who may later prove to be villains.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Fox News Versus Time Warner Cable
Fox News wants Time Warner Cable to pay $1 per subscriber for its content.
On this particular issue, and possibly no other, I'm on the side of Fox. Fox News is little more than the propaganda organ for the Republican party, but on the other hand, I'm not a big fan of cable companies, either. They enjoy near-monopolies in most markets and charge outrageous fees while shortchanging the content providers. I would like to see cable companies get the squeeze and stop intruding into areas where they lack competence, such as the Internet and VOIP. Leave VOIP to experts like Vonage. When cable companies venture outside their core competence, customers are the ones who suffer.
I subscribed to Charter cable and received abominable Internet service. I didn't know how bad it was until I switched to AT&T and experienced 99.99% reliability for the first time. Over the eight years that I was subscribed to Charter, they made one substantial investment in the service. They installed a device beside each house to filter the television signal from the Internet signal, so that subscribers like myself could no longer pick up both television and Internet, but were compelled to subscribe to each of the services separately. My Internet became unavailable while their technicians were working and remained unavailable for many days afterward. No one notified me. This was just another in a long series of rude interruptions from Charter. I was grateful, because it made my decision to cancel their services an easy one. I remember going for a entire week without service, because of an unexplained technical difficulty. No adjustments were ever made to my bill for the dozens of unannounced outages, although the CSR's at the help desk would always promise to adjust my bill to reflect the downtime. They lied.
Every two weeks, Charter still sends me marketing fliers in the mail offering me "television, VOIP, and Internet for $69.99 a month." Their fliers are deposited in the trashcan without being opened. I received an email from a Charter Representative once, in response to a blog post of mine, that recommended that I log onto the Charter web site and provide my address so that they won't mail me fliers anymore. Why should I take time out of my day to do that? I do not care whether Charter wastes its money mailing fliers to me. Maybe it helps the Postal Service, which seems to be struggling financially these days, according to media reports. I like the Postal Service, because they provide a useful service in a reliable fashion at a modest price.
On this particular issue, and possibly no other, I'm on the side of Fox. Fox News is little more than the propaganda organ for the Republican party, but on the other hand, I'm not a big fan of cable companies, either. They enjoy near-monopolies in most markets and charge outrageous fees while shortchanging the content providers. I would like to see cable companies get the squeeze and stop intruding into areas where they lack competence, such as the Internet and VOIP. Leave VOIP to experts like Vonage. When cable companies venture outside their core competence, customers are the ones who suffer.
I subscribed to Charter cable and received abominable Internet service. I didn't know how bad it was until I switched to AT&T and experienced 99.99% reliability for the first time. Over the eight years that I was subscribed to Charter, they made one substantial investment in the service. They installed a device beside each house to filter the television signal from the Internet signal, so that subscribers like myself could no longer pick up both television and Internet, but were compelled to subscribe to each of the services separately. My Internet became unavailable while their technicians were working and remained unavailable for many days afterward. No one notified me. This was just another in a long series of rude interruptions from Charter. I was grateful, because it made my decision to cancel their services an easy one. I remember going for a entire week without service, because of an unexplained technical difficulty. No adjustments were ever made to my bill for the dozens of unannounced outages, although the CSR's at the help desk would always promise to adjust my bill to reflect the downtime. They lied.
Every two weeks, Charter still sends me marketing fliers in the mail offering me "television, VOIP, and Internet for $69.99 a month." Their fliers are deposited in the trashcan without being opened. I received an email from a Charter Representative once, in response to a blog post of mine, that recommended that I log onto the Charter web site and provide my address so that they won't mail me fliers anymore. Why should I take time out of my day to do that? I do not care whether Charter wastes its money mailing fliers to me. Maybe it helps the Postal Service, which seems to be struggling financially these days, according to media reports. I like the Postal Service, because they provide a useful service in a reliable fashion at a modest price.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
The Fascist Regime in Iran
Although peace is the preferred state, pacifism cannot succeed in areas where evil is running rampant, dedicated to oppression and killing. Based upon media reports that I have read, Iran has become a kind of Hell where the authorities advocate and practice murder, rape, violence, and every other tool of tyranny. By their actions, the hardliners have proved themselves bloodthirsty villains. They do not believe in freedom of speech and do not place any value upon popular elections. They are intent upon ruling through violence and the fear that violence instills. This is the very definition of evil.
Due to the paranoid psychology of the dictatorship, the regime has become devoted to promoting evil, both at home and abroad. However, many people feel that life has no meaning if it serves evil. It would be glorious to die for the cause of freedom in Iran, while destroying the maximum number of evil mercenaries who serve the dictatorship. There could be no higher purpose to the life of a human being than to work towards the overthrow of an evil dictatorship.
When I feel in need of inspiration, I like to view videos of the protests in Iran, where moral right confronts moral evil. The martyrs of the opposition are heroes of all of humankind and should be recorded in the history books alongside other heroes and martyrs throughout the ages from every culture. The brave young people of Iran show us by their example that heroism has not perished with the modern age, but remains alive and well.
It is my hope that, if necessary, the opposition in Iran acquires military weapons and meets bullet for bullet and bomb for bomb. The proper goal for anyone with a sense of ethics is to destroy both the regime and the conscienceless villains that support it, so that they do not pass on their wicked traits to future generations. It has become clear that those who once did evil in the name of the Shah, now do similar and worse deeds in the name of Khameini and his puppet, the vile Ahmadinejad.
The crimes that the regime commits today against its own people serves as a reliable guide to what it will do to the West, once it develops nuclear weapons. Unlike Iraq, Iran is the real deal when it comes to nukes.
Hugo Chavez of Venzuela revealed himself to be both a fool and a hypocrite when he welcomed Ahmadinejad to his country and congratulated him on his reelection. I was disgusted by that display of ignorance and resolved there and then that Chavez was a villain. Having aligned himself with absolute evil, Chavez has zero credibility to invest on any other issues.
It is a pity that Chavez has become something of a hero in some quarters. He is more interested in personal power and ego gratification than he is in justice and truth. The United States is the favorite boogeyman of Chavez, who expects us to invade at any moment, and tells his countrymen to be vigilant against the Yankee aggressor.
My country may not be perfect in every respect, but it is better than some other countries, such as Iran and China, which rule with the rifle, the prison, the hangman and the torturer. If Chavez could just look beyond the shadow of the United States for one minute, he might see the world as it really is, in all its complexity and shades of gray, rather than his paranoid anti-American construction of the world.
I realize that the U.S. erred in supporting the Shah back in the 1960's and '70's, but that is water under the bridge. Nothing can be done about that now. I think most Americans today would agree that support for certain right-wing dictators around the globe during the Cold War (and after) was a mistake. My country was obsessed with the threat of Communism at the time. Conservative and unethical politicians had control over American foreign policy. They decided that supporting an S.O.B. like the Shah and the tyrant in Viet Nam was OK, because he was "our" S.O.B. But that was over thirty years ago.
Today, I think most Americans would be happy to see a democratic Iran, even if it did not ally itself with the U.S. We would welcome a free Iran, which would contribute more to the world in the way of science, industry, film, and literature. There are many areas in which the U.S. and Iran could cooperate out of mutual interest. Americans do not hate the Iranian people, but sympathize with them, and hope that they succeed in reforming and moderating their government. It is safe to assume that a free Iran would be less hostile and more cooperative, because the common interest of most people is peace and prosperity. Everyone, at heart, wants peace. As long as the governments of the world will allow peace to happen, it will flourish due to the common desire of all human beings.
The real enemies of humankind are not other human beings, but disease, poverty, ignorance, pollution, and fascism. It is possible to work toward optimal solutions for all of the problems that confront the human race as a whole. War is not necessary or inevitable, as some people fear. War is, however, a prominent feature in history books. But that is in the past, as a lesson and a warning to everyone. The future can be different. We just have to believe that peace will work. But this does not mean giving in to evil-doers that are willing to kill in order to get their way.
Due to the paranoid psychology of the dictatorship, the regime has become devoted to promoting evil, both at home and abroad. However, many people feel that life has no meaning if it serves evil. It would be glorious to die for the cause of freedom in Iran, while destroying the maximum number of evil mercenaries who serve the dictatorship. There could be no higher purpose to the life of a human being than to work towards the overthrow of an evil dictatorship.
When I feel in need of inspiration, I like to view videos of the protests in Iran, where moral right confronts moral evil. The martyrs of the opposition are heroes of all of humankind and should be recorded in the history books alongside other heroes and martyrs throughout the ages from every culture. The brave young people of Iran show us by their example that heroism has not perished with the modern age, but remains alive and well.
It is my hope that, if necessary, the opposition in Iran acquires military weapons and meets bullet for bullet and bomb for bomb. The proper goal for anyone with a sense of ethics is to destroy both the regime and the conscienceless villains that support it, so that they do not pass on their wicked traits to future generations. It has become clear that those who once did evil in the name of the Shah, now do similar and worse deeds in the name of Khameini and his puppet, the vile Ahmadinejad.
The crimes that the regime commits today against its own people serves as a reliable guide to what it will do to the West, once it develops nuclear weapons. Unlike Iraq, Iran is the real deal when it comes to nukes.
Hugo Chavez of Venzuela revealed himself to be both a fool and a hypocrite when he welcomed Ahmadinejad to his country and congratulated him on his reelection. I was disgusted by that display of ignorance and resolved there and then that Chavez was a villain. Having aligned himself with absolute evil, Chavez has zero credibility to invest on any other issues.
It is a pity that Chavez has become something of a hero in some quarters. He is more interested in personal power and ego gratification than he is in justice and truth. The United States is the favorite boogeyman of Chavez, who expects us to invade at any moment, and tells his countrymen to be vigilant against the Yankee aggressor.
My country may not be perfect in every respect, but it is better than some other countries, such as Iran and China, which rule with the rifle, the prison, the hangman and the torturer. If Chavez could just look beyond the shadow of the United States for one minute, he might see the world as it really is, in all its complexity and shades of gray, rather than his paranoid anti-American construction of the world.
I realize that the U.S. erred in supporting the Shah back in the 1960's and '70's, but that is water under the bridge. Nothing can be done about that now. I think most Americans today would agree that support for certain right-wing dictators around the globe during the Cold War (and after) was a mistake. My country was obsessed with the threat of Communism at the time. Conservative and unethical politicians had control over American foreign policy. They decided that supporting an S.O.B. like the Shah and the tyrant in Viet Nam was OK, because he was "our" S.O.B. But that was over thirty years ago.
Today, I think most Americans would be happy to see a democratic Iran, even if it did not ally itself with the U.S. We would welcome a free Iran, which would contribute more to the world in the way of science, industry, film, and literature. There are many areas in which the U.S. and Iran could cooperate out of mutual interest. Americans do not hate the Iranian people, but sympathize with them, and hope that they succeed in reforming and moderating their government. It is safe to assume that a free Iran would be less hostile and more cooperative, because the common interest of most people is peace and prosperity. Everyone, at heart, wants peace. As long as the governments of the world will allow peace to happen, it will flourish due to the common desire of all human beings.
The real enemies of humankind are not other human beings, but disease, poverty, ignorance, pollution, and fascism. It is possible to work toward optimal solutions for all of the problems that confront the human race as a whole. War is not necessary or inevitable, as some people fear. War is, however, a prominent feature in history books. But that is in the past, as a lesson and a warning to everyone. The future can be different. We just have to believe that peace will work. But this does not mean giving in to evil-doers that are willing to kill in order to get their way.
Uganda's First Impression
I knew next to nothing about Uganda before the news broke about their new fascist law, which mandates the death penalty for gays. Now my impression of Uganda is negative. I wonder how many millions of others all over the world feel the same way. It is unlikely any positive stories will cover Uganda in the near future. Many appealing choices compete for foreigners' vacations, investments, and philanthropy. With words of hate, Uganda has rendered itself a less desirable option. The unwise actions of certain Ugandan politicians will haunt their country for years to come.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Hopes for the Future
Assuming there is a future, a civilized one not much worse than the present, I have several items on my wish list:
1. A cheaper, more efficient, and non-polluting replacement for fossil fuels to reduce global warming and pollution. Many fascist regimes devote their oil money toward evil ends, such as war, oppression of their own people, and terrorism. Their level of morality is low, while their income is high. The primary focus of scientific research should be to replace fossil fuels as an energy source.
2. An end to the wars, and the flourishing of peace everywhere, so that the competing tribes can communicate without the interference of violence, which interrupts communication and creates an atmosphere of paranoia and hostility. This goal may be the most difficult to accomplish. But it is possible. In the past, there was more war, not less. Today, the wars are limited in scope.
3. An overthrow of the fascist regime in Iran, which seems bent upon the brutalization of its own people. Iran is an important nation with great potential. Change should come from within, though, not from without. The intervention of outside powers has proved counter-productive in the past.
4. Socialized medicine in America, so that the cost of health care declines, while reaching the poor, who need medicine as much or even more than the affluent. If other countries such as Cuba and Mexico can do it, then surely the United States can.
5. Legal civil unions for gays in America. It is a measure that has no costs, but has many benefits for society as a whole. Assimilation of minorities is the way to make society more cohesive. Many gays want to be seamless members of the community. Today, gays must devote their energies and resources to coping with a variety of injustices that afflict them on a personal level, rather than working upon other social issues. If society is to receive the full measure of their talents, it must recognize their personal relationships.
6. An end to the prohibition of marijuana. It is safer than alcohol. Prohibition laws are designed to make marijuana users felons, unemployed, unemployable, alienated, isolated, imprisoned, traumatized, brutalized, and dead. The laws create far more harm than the substance.
7. The replacement of the menu of fast-food restaurants with healthier choices that have higher amounts of vitamins and fiber, and lower amounts of fat, salt, and sugar. Good food can be healthy, tasty, and popular. The only reason fast food restaurants have not tried good food yet is due to stodginess.
8. A reduction in the use of cars, and an increase in pedestrian and bicycle traffic. Physical exercise has many benefits, both psychological and physical. Too many people dread using their feet. But feet want to be used. It is their function.
9. An end to the "Don't Ask / Don't Tell" policy in the U.S. military that results in the discharge of gay service members through no fault of their own other than honesty.
1. A cheaper, more efficient, and non-polluting replacement for fossil fuels to reduce global warming and pollution. Many fascist regimes devote their oil money toward evil ends, such as war, oppression of their own people, and terrorism. Their level of morality is low, while their income is high. The primary focus of scientific research should be to replace fossil fuels as an energy source.
2. An end to the wars, and the flourishing of peace everywhere, so that the competing tribes can communicate without the interference of violence, which interrupts communication and creates an atmosphere of paranoia and hostility. This goal may be the most difficult to accomplish. But it is possible. In the past, there was more war, not less. Today, the wars are limited in scope.
3. An overthrow of the fascist regime in Iran, which seems bent upon the brutalization of its own people. Iran is an important nation with great potential. Change should come from within, though, not from without. The intervention of outside powers has proved counter-productive in the past.
4. Socialized medicine in America, so that the cost of health care declines, while reaching the poor, who need medicine as much or even more than the affluent. If other countries such as Cuba and Mexico can do it, then surely the United States can.
5. Legal civil unions for gays in America. It is a measure that has no costs, but has many benefits for society as a whole. Assimilation of minorities is the way to make society more cohesive. Many gays want to be seamless members of the community. Today, gays must devote their energies and resources to coping with a variety of injustices that afflict them on a personal level, rather than working upon other social issues. If society is to receive the full measure of their talents, it must recognize their personal relationships.
6. An end to the prohibition of marijuana. It is safer than alcohol. Prohibition laws are designed to make marijuana users felons, unemployed, unemployable, alienated, isolated, imprisoned, traumatized, brutalized, and dead. The laws create far more harm than the substance.
7. The replacement of the menu of fast-food restaurants with healthier choices that have higher amounts of vitamins and fiber, and lower amounts of fat, salt, and sugar. Good food can be healthy, tasty, and popular. The only reason fast food restaurants have not tried good food yet is due to stodginess.
8. A reduction in the use of cars, and an increase in pedestrian and bicycle traffic. Physical exercise has many benefits, both psychological and physical. Too many people dread using their feet. But feet want to be used. It is their function.
9. An end to the "Don't Ask / Don't Tell" policy in the U.S. military that results in the discharge of gay service members through no fault of their own other than honesty.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Favorite Celebs
Among celebrities on television, I like Jon Stewart, Graham Norton, Kathy Griffin, and Catherine Tate. I cannot imagine how they do what they do. I don't envy them at all. I wouldn't want to do their jobs. But they are entertaining to watch.
The gay community is lucky that Graham Norton is around. He's an out gay man with his own talk show, which is rare to say the least and a refreshing change from the hetero-hosted talk shows, which used to have a monopoly. I like his hilarious, witty, vulgar, juvenile show, which definitely has a camp flavor. Graham gets great guests from all over the English-speaking world, including Catherine Tate, which I think was a pretty big "get". His guests are always entertainers--comedians, musicians, performers that pose as musicians, directors, and film stars.
Jon Stewart on "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart" (Comedy Central) has the best talk show on television, covering contemporary news from a humorous angle, often sarcastic and witty. I've never seen anyone as good as he is. His material is really the best. And he has a big heart as well. Jon is an inspiration to us all, on many levels: ethical, humorous, philosophical, political and strategic. Whenever he challenges the nitwits on FOX, he comes out on top every time, which isn't too surprising, all things considered.
Kathy Griffin is someone I never thought I would see on television: a declared atheist, moreover a female one, and a hilarious comedienne as well. She makes me laugh. I really like her. She works hard at annoying the rich and famous.
Catherine Tate is versatile as an actress. She has so much talent that it feels like a gift just to be able to watch her perform. My American friends like her. Television executives should sign her for an American television show. She makes me think as well as laugh. Her humor is universal in appeal, making commentary about the human condition. She appeared on season 6, episode 10 of the Graham Norton show, where she seemed by far the most likable of the three guests, which included 50 Cent and David Carr*.
I detected a subtext of tension between 50 Cent and Graham. I was not impressed by my first glimpse of the rapper. After listening to him perform, I do not see how it is possible that he should have sold so much music. It is a strange thing indeed. Consumers are paying for an image to which they aspire, which is often the case in the music biz.
The gay community is lucky that Graham Norton is around. He's an out gay man with his own talk show, which is rare to say the least and a refreshing change from the hetero-hosted talk shows, which used to have a monopoly. I like his hilarious, witty, vulgar, juvenile show, which definitely has a camp flavor. Graham gets great guests from all over the English-speaking world, including Catherine Tate, which I think was a pretty big "get". His guests are always entertainers--comedians, musicians, performers that pose as musicians, directors, and film stars.
Jon Stewart on "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart" (Comedy Central) has the best talk show on television, covering contemporary news from a humorous angle, often sarcastic and witty. I've never seen anyone as good as he is. His material is really the best. And he has a big heart as well. Jon is an inspiration to us all, on many levels: ethical, humorous, philosophical, political and strategic. Whenever he challenges the nitwits on FOX, he comes out on top every time, which isn't too surprising, all things considered.
Kathy Griffin is someone I never thought I would see on television: a declared atheist, moreover a female one, and a hilarious comedienne as well. She makes me laugh. I really like her. She works hard at annoying the rich and famous.
Catherine Tate is versatile as an actress. She has so much talent that it feels like a gift just to be able to watch her perform. My American friends like her. Television executives should sign her for an American television show. She makes me think as well as laugh. Her humor is universal in appeal, making commentary about the human condition. She appeared on season 6, episode 10 of the Graham Norton show, where she seemed by far the most likable of the three guests, which included 50 Cent and David Carr*.
I detected a subtext of tension between 50 Cent and Graham. I was not impressed by my first glimpse of the rapper. After listening to him perform, I do not see how it is possible that he should have sold so much music. It is a strange thing indeed. Consumers are paying for an image to which they aspire, which is often the case in the music biz.
An Exchange of Secrets
This is a continuation of the previous post.
These are the secrets that were shared on a fateful night in a deserted city street, sitting in her car waiting for the light to change from red to green. She confided in me about being beaten so badly by her ex-girlfriend that the police were called. I am not sure why some people choose to live in this way with an abusive lover, but they do for whatever reasons. It was difficult for me to understand, then and now. I was willing to shelter her from all of that, but not everyone wants to be sheltered. Some are drawn to the flame. I cannot explain this behavior. It is foreign to me. Perhaps her orientation was exclusively homosexual, but it begs the question of why she ever got involved with me in the first place. Was my function to impress her friends? Or was she just testing the waters to see what life was like on the other side of the fence? She had seemed enthusiastic while we were doing all of the sexual things that she wanted us to do. If it was all just acting, then she was a good actress.
After her confession, I told her not to worry, that I was bisexual, too. We were at a stoplight, and the light turned green, but she did not press the gas. She stared at me in disbelief, waiting for the punchline. But the joke was cosmic in nature, played by God upon us both. I reminded her that she needed to move the car or else a patrolman would pull us over. She needed to be reminded several times before she pressed the gas.
We had a good laugh over the situation, and the night ended well, or so I thought. The next day (I found out later), she confided in her ex, who promoted the suspicion that I was infected with the HIV virus and had infected her out of malice. She chose to believe her ex. After she had brooded over the situation for the better part of a day, she called me up with accusations. I had never heard her so angry before. I don't remember whether she called me a murderer or not, but that was the implication. I knew this might be the last time she ever spoke to me, so I told her what I had been waiting for the right time to tell her, that I loved her. She didn't believe me.
I offered to get tested along with her at the local clinic, but it was not good enough, because she was afraid someone might have recognized her there. She arranged for us to get tested at a clinic sixty miles away. I offered to drive, but she insisted upon going in separate cars. She felt terrified by the needle and the nurse's questions. I consoled her, but we did not touch. Of course I was not infected and neither was she. Once she got a clean bill of health, she called to let me know and thanked me for my cooperation. Then she ceased all communication with me forever.
We never saw each other again until thirteen years later, when we passed each other on a bridge. She and her female companion were on bicycles, and I was on foot. She said not a word to me, nor did she make any gesture. But I knew that she knew who I was. She had mirrored sunglasses on, but began blinking violently, as from a nervous tic. She aborted her trip across the bridge and came back the other way, while her companion complained. As she passed me a second time, still she said nothing. I did not say anything either. Sometimes silence is best, after all.
Long ago, I built in my imagination a palace of gold where she reigned as Queen. She destroyed the beautiful illusion of love that I created in my mind. All my plans came to naught. It is just as well that it ended. I know that now. I don't think she understood anything of what I felt for her. She craved the scent of a woman. It is okay by me. I just wish it had ended in a better manner, without the paranoia.
Later I found another, who is far better to me than she ever was. He is kinder, more thoughtful, more skilled, more beautiful, and much wiser. I made a good life with him, and together we have built a splendid palace where we reign as Kings.
These are the secrets that were shared on a fateful night in a deserted city street, sitting in her car waiting for the light to change from red to green. She confided in me about being beaten so badly by her ex-girlfriend that the police were called. I am not sure why some people choose to live in this way with an abusive lover, but they do for whatever reasons. It was difficult for me to understand, then and now. I was willing to shelter her from all of that, but not everyone wants to be sheltered. Some are drawn to the flame. I cannot explain this behavior. It is foreign to me. Perhaps her orientation was exclusively homosexual, but it begs the question of why she ever got involved with me in the first place. Was my function to impress her friends? Or was she just testing the waters to see what life was like on the other side of the fence? She had seemed enthusiastic while we were doing all of the sexual things that she wanted us to do. If it was all just acting, then she was a good actress.
After her confession, I told her not to worry, that I was bisexual, too. We were at a stoplight, and the light turned green, but she did not press the gas. She stared at me in disbelief, waiting for the punchline. But the joke was cosmic in nature, played by God upon us both. I reminded her that she needed to move the car or else a patrolman would pull us over. She needed to be reminded several times before she pressed the gas.
We had a good laugh over the situation, and the night ended well, or so I thought. The next day (I found out later), she confided in her ex, who promoted the suspicion that I was infected with the HIV virus and had infected her out of malice. She chose to believe her ex. After she had brooded over the situation for the better part of a day, she called me up with accusations. I had never heard her so angry before. I don't remember whether she called me a murderer or not, but that was the implication. I knew this might be the last time she ever spoke to me, so I told her what I had been waiting for the right time to tell her, that I loved her. She didn't believe me.
I offered to get tested along with her at the local clinic, but it was not good enough, because she was afraid someone might have recognized her there. She arranged for us to get tested at a clinic sixty miles away. I offered to drive, but she insisted upon going in separate cars. She felt terrified by the needle and the nurse's questions. I consoled her, but we did not touch. Of course I was not infected and neither was she. Once she got a clean bill of health, she called to let me know and thanked me for my cooperation. Then she ceased all communication with me forever.
We never saw each other again until thirteen years later, when we passed each other on a bridge. She and her female companion were on bicycles, and I was on foot. She said not a word to me, nor did she make any gesture. But I knew that she knew who I was. She had mirrored sunglasses on, but began blinking violently, as from a nervous tic. She aborted her trip across the bridge and came back the other way, while her companion complained. As she passed me a second time, still she said nothing. I did not say anything either. Sometimes silence is best, after all.
Long ago, I built in my imagination a palace of gold where she reigned as Queen. She destroyed the beautiful illusion of love that I created in my mind. All my plans came to naught. It is just as well that it ended. I know that now. I don't think she understood anything of what I felt for her. She craved the scent of a woman. It is okay by me. I just wish it had ended in a better manner, without the paranoia.
Later I found another, who is far better to me than she ever was. He is kinder, more thoughtful, more skilled, more beautiful, and much wiser. I made a good life with him, and together we have built a splendid palace where we reign as Kings.
Romantic Love
Writers cultivate the meme of romantic love, which is an unrealistic expectation that by finding just the right person and winning them over, happiness will become permanent. The meme is best expressed in movies like "Impromptu" or "The Princess and the Warrior," both of which I have watched many times over.
Finding the right person is not easy. Sometimes we think we have found the right person, but are mistaken. Young men look for physical beauty, which is superficial, and neglect to consider more important traits, such as kindness. There are beautiful people in the world whose beauty is skin-deep. Inside, they are selfish and lazy, having learned that they can receive rewards without earning them.
Women are aware of the male preference for physical beauty and take pains to make themselves seem more attractive. None of this effort will assist the longevity or the quality of a long-term relationship. It is superficial. It will help in establishing a relationship, but no more. The same trait, physical beauty, that attracts a man will also lure him away to others who possess it in a novel configuration.
Even if we do find the right person, winning anyone over is a more difficult task by far. Attraction must be mutual, an unpleasant fact that leads people with a sub-par appearance to consign themselves to lives of solitude. Many people are alone who need not be. They have much to offer a partner, such as loyalty, affection, and friendship. There are many other forms of love of greater value than romantic love. Also, the media dwells upon sex because it sells copy, but sex is a small component of a relationship. Only form a relationship with a trustworthy and kind person. Any other relationship will be marked by discord and unhappiness in the end.
As a boy, I listened to songs from groups like Led Zeppelin, Styx, the Scorpions ("Still Lovin' You"), David Bowie ("China Girl"), and countless others that describe a blind, superficial, romantic love based upon physical desire and unrealistic expectations. I used to play these songs over and over again. I could never get enough of them. They described a version of reality that I had never experienced before, but had great appeal to me. I had a hunger for that kind of experience.
Romantic love took firm hold of my imagination. Maybe it was because I was focused upon scholastic achievement. My heart yearned for drama to relieve the tedium of academic study. I was forever falling in love with people that had little to offer besides stunning looks. None of these crushes led to a relationship of any depth or meaning. They were just learning experiences at best. I often assumed that my crushes were profound and spiritual. I wrote hundreds of pages about the objects of my affection, analyzing every facet of their being and of mine. Decades later, when I went to inspect this prose with cold blood, I recognized much of it was drivel, of no value to me or to anybody, no better than the lyrics to the songs that we hear on the radio. I realized that I had been deluded. What I had written was false in many respects. The songs I had been listening to on the radio, over and over again, had infiltrated my psyche, encoding viral memes into my thought processes. I had believed the song lyrics and aspired to follow them. It was like a false religion.
Romantic love is a strange drug with soaring highs and crashing lows. I think it is just as the Ancient Greeks said, a kind of madness. For me, the worst case was with a girlfriend in college. We knew each other for a brief time, but in those few weeks, much happened. My intentions were serious, but hers were not. There was drama in her life that she concealed from me until the end, when all was revealed late at night, in the middle of a deserted city street, in a bewildering explosion of confessions. Her deep, dark secret, as she viewed it, was that she had an ex-girlfriend, a much older and abusive ex-girlfriend, who still wanted her. I did not mind, because I had my own secrets, which I revealed to her in full for the sake of reciprocity. Candor occurs naturally when one is in love. I do not regret telling her what I did, even though she used it as a justification for ending everything between us. Nothing good can come of lies. She showed the measure of her worth through her actions. All is just as it should be.
One always remembers the highs, because they are without compare over the course of a lifetime. The highs occurred when my beloved gave me a token of affection, such as a kiss. Opium pales in comparison to the brain's indigenous substances, which are produced in abundance under the right conditions. I remember pleasure so intense that I expected to be incinerated. My hands grew as warm as when I had had the flu. Reality transformed into paradise. Everything was imbued with new meaning. Nothing was random anymore. God became real and was taking a hand in my life for the first time. I would have married her in an instant. These are some of the thoughts I had at the time.
There are two sides to the idiotic passion, the highs and the lows, and I soon discovered the latter. Romantic love is often one-sided. One partner may offer all, while the other offers only a portion of themselves on a temporary basis. Some look for a relationship, while others are just having fun. I think she felt flattered to be with me. I was handsome. She liked to show me off to her friends. But that was all. "Love" is a loaded word. Don't shoot that gun until the target is ready. I shot too soon. If love is not felt in the other, then they shrink from the intensity of the emotion. Sometimes, the other may not love themselves, and they wonder what is wrong with you, that you love them.
My sweet dream was destroyed as fast as it had been formed. I think she made her decision with too much haste, but it does not matter now. The door has been locked shut. After that experience, I began to view romantic love as a hard drug like heroin. I can't say I never fell again. I did fall, a couple of times, but it was never as intense. I observed with a kind of relief the decline in the intensity of my feelings. Wisdom replaced foolishness at last. At last I have a partner that loves me in the same measure that I love him, someone that I can trust and that can trust me in the same measure.
Today, I think romantic love, the unrealistic and idealistic variety, is overrated, but then I am older now, and older people often think so. Affection, compassion, honesty, kindness, and intimacy are more important. Romantic love seems brittle to me. It breaks upon the rocks of hard reality. But it remains popular, judging by the subjects that pop stars sing about and writers write about. Young people have an appetite for it, and where there is demand, supply will follow.
Finding the right person is not easy. Sometimes we think we have found the right person, but are mistaken. Young men look for physical beauty, which is superficial, and neglect to consider more important traits, such as kindness. There are beautiful people in the world whose beauty is skin-deep. Inside, they are selfish and lazy, having learned that they can receive rewards without earning them.
Women are aware of the male preference for physical beauty and take pains to make themselves seem more attractive. None of this effort will assist the longevity or the quality of a long-term relationship. It is superficial. It will help in establishing a relationship, but no more. The same trait, physical beauty, that attracts a man will also lure him away to others who possess it in a novel configuration.
Even if we do find the right person, winning anyone over is a more difficult task by far. Attraction must be mutual, an unpleasant fact that leads people with a sub-par appearance to consign themselves to lives of solitude. Many people are alone who need not be. They have much to offer a partner, such as loyalty, affection, and friendship. There are many other forms of love of greater value than romantic love. Also, the media dwells upon sex because it sells copy, but sex is a small component of a relationship. Only form a relationship with a trustworthy and kind person. Any other relationship will be marked by discord and unhappiness in the end.
As a boy, I listened to songs from groups like Led Zeppelin, Styx, the Scorpions ("Still Lovin' You"), David Bowie ("China Girl"), and countless others that describe a blind, superficial, romantic love based upon physical desire and unrealistic expectations. I used to play these songs over and over again. I could never get enough of them. They described a version of reality that I had never experienced before, but had great appeal to me. I had a hunger for that kind of experience.
Romantic love took firm hold of my imagination. Maybe it was because I was focused upon scholastic achievement. My heart yearned for drama to relieve the tedium of academic study. I was forever falling in love with people that had little to offer besides stunning looks. None of these crushes led to a relationship of any depth or meaning. They were just learning experiences at best. I often assumed that my crushes were profound and spiritual. I wrote hundreds of pages about the objects of my affection, analyzing every facet of their being and of mine. Decades later, when I went to inspect this prose with cold blood, I recognized much of it was drivel, of no value to me or to anybody, no better than the lyrics to the songs that we hear on the radio. I realized that I had been deluded. What I had written was false in many respects. The songs I had been listening to on the radio, over and over again, had infiltrated my psyche, encoding viral memes into my thought processes. I had believed the song lyrics and aspired to follow them. It was like a false religion.
Romantic love is a strange drug with soaring highs and crashing lows. I think it is just as the Ancient Greeks said, a kind of madness. For me, the worst case was with a girlfriend in college. We knew each other for a brief time, but in those few weeks, much happened. My intentions were serious, but hers were not. There was drama in her life that she concealed from me until the end, when all was revealed late at night, in the middle of a deserted city street, in a bewildering explosion of confessions. Her deep, dark secret, as she viewed it, was that she had an ex-girlfriend, a much older and abusive ex-girlfriend, who still wanted her. I did not mind, because I had my own secrets, which I revealed to her in full for the sake of reciprocity. Candor occurs naturally when one is in love. I do not regret telling her what I did, even though she used it as a justification for ending everything between us. Nothing good can come of lies. She showed the measure of her worth through her actions. All is just as it should be.
One always remembers the highs, because they are without compare over the course of a lifetime. The highs occurred when my beloved gave me a token of affection, such as a kiss. Opium pales in comparison to the brain's indigenous substances, which are produced in abundance under the right conditions. I remember pleasure so intense that I expected to be incinerated. My hands grew as warm as when I had had the flu. Reality transformed into paradise. Everything was imbued with new meaning. Nothing was random anymore. God became real and was taking a hand in my life for the first time. I would have married her in an instant. These are some of the thoughts I had at the time.
She drove us in her car. The summer sun poured through the windows. Her eyes were the color of sapphires. I asked her why she was smiling. She said she didn’t know. I offered her my hand, which she accepted, her fingers intertwining with mine. She remarked upon the warmth of my hand and asked whether I had a fever. I said I didn’t know. When her eyes were focused on the road, I made an adjustment. She said, “What are you doing?” “Nothing.” “Tell me.” “Sunlight has this effect on me.” I felt embarrassed until I perceived her thought and then I wasn’t. Time slowed down as she took matters in hand. She drove another five miles before the end. Marked were her hand, her chest, the gear lever, and the dashboard. She laughed at the abundance. Kissing her hand, I made an offer that was declined. I closed my eyes. Sometimes I opened them just to see my dream looking back at me and smiling.The moments that I were with her were stored in memory. Later, I would turn them over and over in my mind, looking for meanings, trying to understand as much as I could about the experience. When she told me things or showed me things, I remembered them all. Even today, I can recall with precision many details that are no longer of any importance to anyone. The information has remained through a process similar to imprinting. I used to think things like this happened for a reason, but now I think that accidents happen for no reason at all. Much more is random than we would like to believe. There may be a design, but it is of a general nature, and many details are left to chance.
There are two sides to the idiotic passion, the highs and the lows, and I soon discovered the latter. Romantic love is often one-sided. One partner may offer all, while the other offers only a portion of themselves on a temporary basis. Some look for a relationship, while others are just having fun. I think she felt flattered to be with me. I was handsome. She liked to show me off to her friends. But that was all. "Love" is a loaded word. Don't shoot that gun until the target is ready. I shot too soon. If love is not felt in the other, then they shrink from the intensity of the emotion. Sometimes, the other may not love themselves, and they wonder what is wrong with you, that you love them.
My sweet dream was destroyed as fast as it had been formed. I think she made her decision with too much haste, but it does not matter now. The door has been locked shut. After that experience, I began to view romantic love as a hard drug like heroin. I can't say I never fell again. I did fall, a couple of times, but it was never as intense. I observed with a kind of relief the decline in the intensity of my feelings. Wisdom replaced foolishness at last. At last I have a partner that loves me in the same measure that I love him, someone that I can trust and that can trust me in the same measure.
Today, I think romantic love, the unrealistic and idealistic variety, is overrated, but then I am older now, and older people often think so. Affection, compassion, honesty, kindness, and intimacy are more important. Romantic love seems brittle to me. It breaks upon the rocks of hard reality. But it remains popular, judging by the subjects that pop stars sing about and writers write about. Young people have an appetite for it, and where there is demand, supply will follow.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
A Cure for Envy
Some people dream of becoming a celebrity and enjoying the advantages of fame, wealth and leisure. However, out of a population of billions, only a select few can join the glitterati. To earn admittance into the elite club, one must have either one or a combination of traits such as talent, luck, looks, self-promotion, or connections. Early on, I dismissed any notion of my becoming a famous athlete or actor, because I lack talent for those professions. However, I never gave up wanting to become a famous writer. My talent may be modest. I don't know. It is difficult for me to judge, and it is natural to have hope.
This evening, I read excerpts from the journals of a successful American gay writer from the 1970s. Although he may not enjoy much name recognition today, he earned enough to support himself through his writing, and I think some of his books may be found in any public library of a substantial size.
Anytime a person publishes excerpts from their journal, the flattering passages will be distilled to a high concentration, giving the impression of a fantasy life beyond the reach of most of us. The depressing and mundane will be excised, making it appear that their life was far superior to our own. Envy can take hold of the reader.
He dropped such golden lines as "one million copies of my books are in print," which fell upon my head like a brick. Another passage read, "present at the party were..." (a list of prominent authors, editors, and artists followed). He records casual sex and shared marijuana highs with beautiful people as though they were commonplace, everyday occurrences. He attended fabulous parties where he befriended some of the leading gay intellectuals of the day.
I felt an unusual emotion, like sadness, and wondered why I should be feeling sad. Then I understood it was envy I was feeling. I seldom feel envy. But in the case of a gay writer, who unlike me was published and able to support himself with his writing--yes, I suppose that I would have liked to trade places. Very much so.
I had to put the book down. I felt embarrassed to feel such a base emotion as envy. All things considered, I have had a pretty good life. I should not be envious of someone else. Plenty of people have had less luck than me. What about them? I should consider their lives, rather than just the lives of those who seem better off.
The cure for envy strolled into the room on four legs. I wondered if my cat ever wanted to be like me, as I wanted to be like the prominent author. I have a more interesting life than my cat. I can drive a car, use a computer, and host dinner parties. My cat can do none of these things. The difference between my cat and me is even greater than the difference between me and any successful writer.
But my cat does not care. It is content. It does not want to be like me, as far as I can tell. I admire that attitude. It is my cat I should envy, for being above the petty emotion of envy. My cat lacks the reasoning power to compare and contrast the advantages of my life with its own lot. This is why it does not feel envy.
Animals can teach us lessons as well as reinforce old lessons. I was reminded tonight that human intelligence has drawbacks. Intelligence introduces errors into our thinking. Envy is one such error. Observing the cat teaches me to discard the errors that arise because of intelligence, which is often a mixed blessing in human beings.
I suspect that a famous writer looks to greater writers such as Mark Twain or Shakespeare, and compares his lot to theirs, and feels envy as well. Unless, that is, he has a cat, and makes the same kind of observations that I have made.
This evening, I read excerpts from the journals of a successful American gay writer from the 1970s. Although he may not enjoy much name recognition today, he earned enough to support himself through his writing, and I think some of his books may be found in any public library of a substantial size.
Anytime a person publishes excerpts from their journal, the flattering passages will be distilled to a high concentration, giving the impression of a fantasy life beyond the reach of most of us. The depressing and mundane will be excised, making it appear that their life was far superior to our own. Envy can take hold of the reader.
He dropped such golden lines as "one million copies of my books are in print," which fell upon my head like a brick. Another passage read, "present at the party were..." (a list of prominent authors, editors, and artists followed). He records casual sex and shared marijuana highs with beautiful people as though they were commonplace, everyday occurrences. He attended fabulous parties where he befriended some of the leading gay intellectuals of the day.
I felt an unusual emotion, like sadness, and wondered why I should be feeling sad. Then I understood it was envy I was feeling. I seldom feel envy. But in the case of a gay writer, who unlike me was published and able to support himself with his writing--yes, I suppose that I would have liked to trade places. Very much so.
I had to put the book down. I felt embarrassed to feel such a base emotion as envy. All things considered, I have had a pretty good life. I should not be envious of someone else. Plenty of people have had less luck than me. What about them? I should consider their lives, rather than just the lives of those who seem better off.
The cure for envy strolled into the room on four legs. I wondered if my cat ever wanted to be like me, as I wanted to be like the prominent author. I have a more interesting life than my cat. I can drive a car, use a computer, and host dinner parties. My cat can do none of these things. The difference between my cat and me is even greater than the difference between me and any successful writer.
But my cat does not care. It is content. It does not want to be like me, as far as I can tell. I admire that attitude. It is my cat I should envy, for being above the petty emotion of envy. My cat lacks the reasoning power to compare and contrast the advantages of my life with its own lot. This is why it does not feel envy.
Animals can teach us lessons as well as reinforce old lessons. I was reminded tonight that human intelligence has drawbacks. Intelligence introduces errors into our thinking. Envy is one such error. Observing the cat teaches me to discard the errors that arise because of intelligence, which is often a mixed blessing in human beings.
I suspect that a famous writer looks to greater writers such as Mark Twain or Shakespeare, and compares his lot to theirs, and feels envy as well. Unless, that is, he has a cat, and makes the same kind of observations that I have made.
Merry Christmas
There are atheists who won't wish a Merry Christmas on principle, but I'm not one of them. I interpret Christmas in my own manner. The holidays mean different things to different people. To me, Christmas is a time of warmth and fellowship, of inclusiveness and getting back together with distant members of the family. The religious aspect is of less significance than the cultural aspect. I see no reason to dismiss such a long-standing holiday that predates the world's most popular religion. Every year, I have a wreath, a Christmas tree, presents, and I like to hear Christmas music, whether religious or secular. It brings to mind good feelings and good memories.
I don't mind speaking about God and Jesus, though I try to avoid it, because these terms mean different things to different people. To say that not everyone agrees on the definitions would be an understatement. Also, plenty of people are leery of proselytization, as am I, because I have had Jehovah's Witnesses and Mormons knock on my door many a time. They like to speak about God and Jesus, but they mean something much different than what I have in mind.
To me, God and Jesus are symbols of something greater. I believe in the greater, which I take to be universal goodness. I remember being taught in Sunday School at a very young age that God is Love, which may be the best explanation I have ever heard. When we feel love for ourselves and for others, then we come closest to God, or so it seems to me. Love, affection, friendship or a simple regard, if it is mutual, results in the greatest benefits and good feelings, whereas other schemes, like animosity, bring negative consequences and negative feelings. In my opinion, the greater the simplicity to religion, the better. All that needs to be said concerning religion is that God is Love. Those three words really say it all. Anything else seems unnecessary.
My current hypothesis regarding God and Creation is also unnecessary, but I like it because it seems right somehow. It is pure speculation. I have an idea that the Universe is One. We perceive one another in terms of individuality, but it is due to the limitations of our senses and our awareness. Everything is connected in a spiritual sense. It is difficult to explain except in mystical terms, because the details are unknown. I call my idea a hypothesis, because it is unproven. I should not say, this is the way things are, but rather, this is my opinion, based upon what I have observed. I think God encompasses all things and is interchangeable with the Universe. I think that the Universe, which encompasses all things, has a certain personality. It is creative. It wants to produce great and good works, and the more elaborate, the better. It is ambitious and plays with its power, which is beyond comprehension. The power is vast. We see little of it, but what we do see is awesome.
I have written about this hypothesis concerning Oneness before on this blog. I used to wonder whether any small part of it was original with me, but somehow I doubted whether it was, because I seem to have heard similar ideas before. A good rule of thumb is that no idea is original. We all borrow ideas from other sources, usually the dead. If we cannot name the source, we think it was generated by our imagination. But I wonder sometimes whether imagination really exists. Maybe all we ever do is imitate and elaborate upon our imitations. A month ago, I was in a thrift store when I encountered an old book about Marcus Aurelius. It turns out that he believed much the same as I do, or at least that was my impression after reading a brief description of his philosophy.
My understanding of contemporary scientific thinking concerning creation is that all things were once combined into a single mass known as a singularity. This mass exploded or expanded into many separate stars. From stardust derived planets and other celestial bodies. On an unknown number of the planets, at least one to our certain knowledge, unicellular life came into being. From unicellular life, sentient beings evolved. From sentient beings evolved reasoning beings, such as humans and certain other animal species such as cats, dogs, dolphin, and monkeys. All of the beautiful and fascinating objects are here for a time, but they will be destroyed later, because they are all just temporary manifestations of the One. And what is the one? Is it a singularity, such as existed before the Big Bang? Or is it more than that?
I think the end and the beginning are not points on a line, but points on a circle, which means that the end of the Universe leads back to a new beginning. How many times has the Universe been destroyed, only to create itself once again? Maybe 1,023 times. Maybe only once. Maybe a billion times. Maybe things were different last time. Or maybe the same things happened in exactly the same fashion.
In terms of the stories that are in the Bible, I would consider myself still to be an atheist, because the miracles appear to be allegories written in only some cases by wise men, but in other cases by men who were not very wise at all. I do believe in a historical Jesus, but believe that he was an ordinary man, an eloquent skeptic of the established order. His arrest and execution were unjust and motivated by petty politics. Many other skeptics have been martyred throughout human history. People in power tend to be jealous of their power and paranoid about perceived threats. Jesus should have been installed as the Roman Emperor. There, he could have done the most good, certainly more good than dead.
If Jesus came back to Earth and ran for President, and if he were the same man as represented by the Gospels, then I would work for his campaign and help raise money. I'd help with the computers. I'd make phone calls. But I doubt Jesus would sink to cold-calling, like telemarketers do. I wonder whether he would be popular. I think he would have many surprising observations to make.
In my younger days, I used to be an outspoken atheist, because I grew up surrounded by outspoken conservatives. I am reminded of Newton's Third Law, in which every action has an equal and opposite reaction. As I've gotten older and moved to different parts of the country, I have encountered Christians of a moderate persuasion. I understand that there are a great many good people who serve under the banner of Christ. They do not permit evil to latch hold of their hearts. To judge the entire faith by the words and actions of a few would be unfair, just as atheists should not be judged by the words and actions of a few.
Merry Christmas to all the Christians, the atheists, the Muslims, the Jews, and everyone else. I can't list every creed, because it would take forever. A better expression might be, "Happy Holidays," because that is non-denominational. But I like the sound of "Merry Christmas," and it is after all that time of the year.
My Christmas wish is this. I hope that the vision of Jesus can be realized, which is that the human race should evolve into a benevolent and cooperative body of people, rather than a fragmented world of competing tribes as it is today. Cooperation will bring the greatest benefit to the greatest number of people. I am not sure whether it will be possible. I don't know whether it will happen or not. But it seems necessary, due to the unique threats to civilization brought about by modern technology.
I don't mind speaking about God and Jesus, though I try to avoid it, because these terms mean different things to different people. To say that not everyone agrees on the definitions would be an understatement. Also, plenty of people are leery of proselytization, as am I, because I have had Jehovah's Witnesses and Mormons knock on my door many a time. They like to speak about God and Jesus, but they mean something much different than what I have in mind.
To me, God and Jesus are symbols of something greater. I believe in the greater, which I take to be universal goodness. I remember being taught in Sunday School at a very young age that God is Love, which may be the best explanation I have ever heard. When we feel love for ourselves and for others, then we come closest to God, or so it seems to me. Love, affection, friendship or a simple regard, if it is mutual, results in the greatest benefits and good feelings, whereas other schemes, like animosity, bring negative consequences and negative feelings. In my opinion, the greater the simplicity to religion, the better. All that needs to be said concerning religion is that God is Love. Those three words really say it all. Anything else seems unnecessary.
My current hypothesis regarding God and Creation is also unnecessary, but I like it because it seems right somehow. It is pure speculation. I have an idea that the Universe is One. We perceive one another in terms of individuality, but it is due to the limitations of our senses and our awareness. Everything is connected in a spiritual sense. It is difficult to explain except in mystical terms, because the details are unknown. I call my idea a hypothesis, because it is unproven. I should not say, this is the way things are, but rather, this is my opinion, based upon what I have observed. I think God encompasses all things and is interchangeable with the Universe. I think that the Universe, which encompasses all things, has a certain personality. It is creative. It wants to produce great and good works, and the more elaborate, the better. It is ambitious and plays with its power, which is beyond comprehension. The power is vast. We see little of it, but what we do see is awesome.
I have written about this hypothesis concerning Oneness before on this blog. I used to wonder whether any small part of it was original with me, but somehow I doubted whether it was, because I seem to have heard similar ideas before. A good rule of thumb is that no idea is original. We all borrow ideas from other sources, usually the dead. If we cannot name the source, we think it was generated by our imagination. But I wonder sometimes whether imagination really exists. Maybe all we ever do is imitate and elaborate upon our imitations. A month ago, I was in a thrift store when I encountered an old book about Marcus Aurelius. It turns out that he believed much the same as I do, or at least that was my impression after reading a brief description of his philosophy.
My understanding of contemporary scientific thinking concerning creation is that all things were once combined into a single mass known as a singularity. This mass exploded or expanded into many separate stars. From stardust derived planets and other celestial bodies. On an unknown number of the planets, at least one to our certain knowledge, unicellular life came into being. From unicellular life, sentient beings evolved. From sentient beings evolved reasoning beings, such as humans and certain other animal species such as cats, dogs, dolphin, and monkeys. All of the beautiful and fascinating objects are here for a time, but they will be destroyed later, because they are all just temporary manifestations of the One. And what is the one? Is it a singularity, such as existed before the Big Bang? Or is it more than that?
I think the end and the beginning are not points on a line, but points on a circle, which means that the end of the Universe leads back to a new beginning. How many times has the Universe been destroyed, only to create itself once again? Maybe 1,023 times. Maybe only once. Maybe a billion times. Maybe things were different last time. Or maybe the same things happened in exactly the same fashion.
In terms of the stories that are in the Bible, I would consider myself still to be an atheist, because the miracles appear to be allegories written in only some cases by wise men, but in other cases by men who were not very wise at all. I do believe in a historical Jesus, but believe that he was an ordinary man, an eloquent skeptic of the established order. His arrest and execution were unjust and motivated by petty politics. Many other skeptics have been martyred throughout human history. People in power tend to be jealous of their power and paranoid about perceived threats. Jesus should have been installed as the Roman Emperor. There, he could have done the most good, certainly more good than dead.
If Jesus came back to Earth and ran for President, and if he were the same man as represented by the Gospels, then I would work for his campaign and help raise money. I'd help with the computers. I'd make phone calls. But I doubt Jesus would sink to cold-calling, like telemarketers do. I wonder whether he would be popular. I think he would have many surprising observations to make.
In my younger days, I used to be an outspoken atheist, because I grew up surrounded by outspoken conservatives. I am reminded of Newton's Third Law, in which every action has an equal and opposite reaction. As I've gotten older and moved to different parts of the country, I have encountered Christians of a moderate persuasion. I understand that there are a great many good people who serve under the banner of Christ. They do not permit evil to latch hold of their hearts. To judge the entire faith by the words and actions of a few would be unfair, just as atheists should not be judged by the words and actions of a few.
Merry Christmas to all the Christians, the atheists, the Muslims, the Jews, and everyone else. I can't list every creed, because it would take forever. A better expression might be, "Happy Holidays," because that is non-denominational. But I like the sound of "Merry Christmas," and it is after all that time of the year.
My Christmas wish is this. I hope that the vision of Jesus can be realized, which is that the human race should evolve into a benevolent and cooperative body of people, rather than a fragmented world of competing tribes as it is today. Cooperation will bring the greatest benefit to the greatest number of people. I am not sure whether it will be possible. I don't know whether it will happen or not. But it seems necessary, due to the unique threats to civilization brought about by modern technology.
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