Tuesday, February 17, 2004

Letting Go: pt 2

Motivation, causality and subsequent effect in relation to human action/reaction. This is a concept not easily understood. In the past, those who have thought they had the answers, usually suspected that these answers involved-in some form-a concept of free will.

When I was 16 in highschool, I had an advanced placement philosophy class (which I got a D in by the way). Of course, it didn't take long to get onto the concept of free will. Pretty much all of the philosophers we talked about agreed that to varying degrees, we had free will. I proposed another possibility; That our actions are merely the direct causation of all previous events in our lives. Most people don't like this concept as it implies the ability to escape responsability, which I can sympathise with. However, I came to realize that the concept I proposed several years ago is not entirely accurate and much too simplified. It fails to take into account several factors.

When I was little, I used to wonder; Why do we think in english? Do french people think in french? Of course, the answer seems obvious now; yes, of course. But why do english speaking people think in english and french speaking people think in french? Why are our thoughts occupied by, and in the form of something that is created by our vocal cords and derived from the speech centres of our brain?

to be continued...

Monday, February 16, 2004

Letting Go: pt 1

What am I doing here? Where is here? What significance does the term 'I' have? I often find myself day dreaming. I often find myself waking up time and time again from these dreams from moment to moment. Day dreaming is the wrong term for it, perhaps I should call it "reality dreaming". An hour will pass, and I will look back upon it and it will fade as if it was a dream, like it never really happened. Does this have something to do with a short attention span or an attention problem in general? I don't think so any more. I think it has to do with something I came to realize along time ago but untill recently couldn't put into words or simply didn't have the language to discribe. Deciding to name my page here "My Lucid Dream" to begin with is a bit interesting. My brain, my body, my environment, everyone and everything around me is decieving me. It is all masking an underlying reality. And that reality is, that I, as a concept of "self", do not exist. And this realization has helped me understand the self that I have come to be convinced is here. More importantly, it has thus far created a kind of peace. I have said it before; We are not who we think we are, on so many different levels.

to be continued...

Thursday, February 12, 2004

There's a couple kinds of anger that I'm familiar with. The first kind, is the kind that I suffer from. It's inner anger. It's anger or frustration with one's self. This inner anger can be caused by outside forces (people, events), but some kind of rationale in the front of my mind prevents it from getting out of hand. In relation to this there are a couple kinds of paranoia. The kind I suffer from entails being paranoid about very specific things or situations.

The other kind of anger and paranoia is the kind that I see from my coworkers. As selfish and egocentric as my anger and paranoia seem to be, it pails in comparison to theirs. They have an anger and paranoia towards large masses of people. More specifically, they have an anger and paranoia towards large masses of people they've never met. Their anger and paranoia is often also related to people living in places they've never been, or doing perfectly reasonable things that they've never done ( or simply don't care to do ). They have anger and paranoia about gay people getting married. These same people have never seem to have met an openly gay person. Which is rather odd because in today's society where being gay isn't as much of a societal taboo, it seems like you'd have to go out of your way not to at least know one or two. They're angry about chemical weapons in bunkers that don't seem to exist. They're angry at anyone who denies the existance of the imaginary waepons bunkers. They're angry at anyone who says that killing thousands of people wasn't worth finding absolutely no threat to themselves.

They're angry at black people who want to attend a collage that might take thier societal backrounds into consideration upon admittance. These people don't even want to attend this collage. They don't even want to read a book for that matter. They're angry at 'niggers' and 'spicks' for collecting government issued releif checks, being a drain on thier own paychecks. They're angry that the government takes even a single penny out of their earnings for anything that they personally don't benefit from.

They're angry at Canadians...I'm not sure why, but they don't like em. Sure, Canada isn't perfect...but why bitch about thier healthcare system that alows poor children medical treatment that alows thier families enough money to feed them with afterwards? They're angry at Americans who don't have health insurance. They're angry because "It was there responsability to get a job that covers them" I guess it was the kids' responsability to have parents that have jobs that cover them.

They're angry at Mexicans. They're angry because Mexican immagrants are stealing jobs Americans won't do. They're angry because they don't speak english.

They're angry at anything and anyone outside of thier shell of veiw or understanding. They think the absolute worst about whatever they don't see. And they make me fucking sick.

My mom is angry at Janet Jackson for showing something on TV for 7 seconds that every human being on the planet has. She's angry at society for letting "them" push the limits. Apparently she's angry at jews too. It used to just be subtle dissrespect for anything not Christian, but a few weeks ago when I was laying on the couch she was watching something on TV and and said something to the effect of "fucking Kikes". I can only imagine that she thought I was sleeping at the time.

All of this is just venting. These people I'm talking about are the products of a long string of causes that have culminated into modern conservitavism. This issue isn't new and I havn't made some kind of breakthrough in realizing these people exist. Perhaps all this in it's own way have been a little judgemental on my part. Who knows.

I wish I could attribute it to some simple cliche' like saying it's because of ignorance. This in and of itself is evident.

I'm fucking sick. And I'm fucking sickened with myself for even wasting my time giving this encompassing issue a second thought. Broad strokes aren't my style.

Saturday, February 07, 2004

I have to leave for work in about 45 minutes. I have to go there, and cook food for people I will never see. I feel like I'm working for about 38cents a day in indonesia or something. For the most part it all seems like an illusion. I'm not there most days. I'm physically there, but my mind is someplace else. I don't know how I manage to do that. I bet it could withstand tortore for a long time. Though I do scream like a girl when ever I smash my toe or something.

I havn't written anything extensive in here since I went on my medication. In retrospect it doesn't seem like that big of a deal now. Like, I didn't ever really need to be on them. But, which is probably the case is that they're working, so I don't think I need them. Maybe I should take them every other day so I can get impression that they're doing something. Bad idea probably.

Last few months all I've wanted to do was sit in my house and vedge out, but recently I've been getting restless and being more productive. I'm at least going out on the weekends and hanging out at the bar. Though not helping my liver, I don't feel as confined. I want to start going to some club events again. I keep meaning to go to this one on tuesdays that my friend spins at, but I keep forgetting.

Hunger has stricken, good day for now.
I've been in a scrap-bookish mood lately of things that catch my eye...

A chinese sculpture from the Han empire somewhere around 95b.c.e.

Thursday, February 05, 2004

I havn't posted in awhile but I felt like I wanted to put this up. This was selected from pages of options I had to choose from. It is a painting from writer/artist David Mack taken from a recent Daredevil comic book. He is without question one of the best comic book artists working today and an all round accoplished artist outside of the comic book world.