31 October 2004

Well, the game begins in earnest. James and I have decided to participate in a little game we like to call, “Boring Picture Sunday”, in which we both try (or not try, as it were) to snap the most boring pictures possible. His contribution is right here -- and quite successfully boring! Update: pOE contributes a very boring picture.

I snapped two very boring pictures of Milwaukee yesterday. Numero Uno:

(It appears to me that a crack was forming in the street and, in order to resolve that issue, some asphalt was added to that crack, though very poorly since, clearly, the crack was not entirely filled or covered, and the asphalt lumped together like some sort of dark colored Miracle Whip gone bad.)

(Ah, that beautiful flowing river of life [death -- ed.], the Milwaukee River. Just across the street hung a sign advertising, “Lofts with a glorious view of the beautiful Milwaukee River”. Mmm, yeah!)

( C: 3 )



30 October 2004

~ Notice ~

This week’s flashback friday postponed until I find my Good Humor Bar ®.

I have the pictures, just not the wit to apply anecdotal captions.

( C: 0 )

28 October 2004

Hum.

I have an interesting tendency. Whenever I hear of a ‘new’ theology, or a ‘new’ (I put ‘new’ in quotes because few Christians would argue that the concepts are new; but they are treated as if they were new, toyed with with a gushing manner... like a child with a new toy) way of viewing the Christian world, a view which people grow excited about, my tendency is to jump right in and rip it to shreds, to utterly destroy it. Why? Because, generally, these positions tend to be taken out of enthusiasm, out of the sense that they are true. And where does this sense come from? The general spirit of the age, society, the world we’ve grown up in. Note the people who spend time in other countries significantly different than their own, how they initially have a feeling of ‘wrongness’, as if things ought not be viewed the way they are, or done the way they are done. The ‘right’ way is the place they’ve come from, though eventually that changes as one is immersed in the foreign society. The point is, when people feel rightness or wrongness, it is -- as often as not -- based not upon analysis of how things ought be, as it is based on how their society says things ought be. A sense of rightness, instead of (necessarily) actual rightness.

And, therefore, when I read any number of the more ‘pop’ Christian books entering in society, and see the enthusiasm with which Christians gobble them up, I tend to believe that the books are accepted not because they are true, but because they are an adaptation of the society, cloaked in Christian language. -- Which isn’t to say that the books are utterly bankrupt, or completely wrong. It means they are incomplete.

Look at the swinging tick-tock of society, and you’ll discover certain shifts, certain philosophies which come and go, come and go -- leaving only to return in a slightly altered form. Examine history long enough, and that shifting will become evident. It’s my contention that these societal shifts always occur between two extremes, neither of which is complete, one without the other. Logic and passion. Science and religion. Objectivity and subjectivity. These shifts occur again and again, though it seems to me that they grow increasingly intense and extreme as the years go by. But these shifts occur.

The church’s movement tends to lag behind culture’s, being more closely bound to tradition and history. And well that it is so -- the lag prevents the majority of the church from fully adapting whatever trend is occuring. But the church catches up, eventually... just in time to fall behind again. And we are fools for even trying to keep up. The goal should not be to keep up with society’s philosophical shifts, but to develop a philosophy which captures the completeness of life as it is, in its fullness and richness.

Right now, the shift in the church is toward subjectivism. I see it in the books today, and the Christians today. I see its basis in Kierkegaard -- it is only the one who is passionate about their truth, no matter how little they know, is closer than to the truth than the dispassionate theologian.

Like that? Probably. We love the idea of passion, emotion... life. But Kierkegaard would add this the statement: the passionate pagan is closer to the truth than the dispassionate theologian. “Wait,” you might say, stopping for a moment. Others of you might agree, sadly enough, even without the context. But such were Kierkegaard’s statements in the 1800’s.

Vanities of vanities. All is vanity. There is nothing new under the sun.

But we see the end of Kierkegaard’s argument; it was not his intent to create utter subjectivity. He was a reactionary who over-reacted to the dry scholasticism of Hegal. But look at the end -- look at the end of reactionaries; no matter their intent, the end goes further than it ought. Kierkegaard used his powerful mind to fight against the over-intellectuallism of his day; the use of his mind to defeat the mind, his intention to show the inherent subjectivity of man... all fell apart as a result of that societal clock.

Back and forth we go, back and forth. The clock ticks along and we shift.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

There is truth to Kierkegaard, a great deal of truth. There is truth to what Christian writers of today say. I’ll not argue that. But how far to the left has the pendulum swing? How far to the right? It matters not -- persue, give chase, until we’ve reached the end of that path and come swinging back!

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Is this motion how things ought to be? Can we not know truth that does not change? Or must we always follow along, adapt, change, swing back and forth? Do we have a way for understanding all societies for what they are? Or must we ride along, swinging and shifting, shouting in joy at nothing but fragments of the fullness and truth of life?

And so I grow tired of these pop books, the churning out of new philosophies and religious interpretations, treating old things as new discoveries and new discoveries as old things. Vanity of vanties, there is nothing new under the sun. The books of today will be laid to rest, empty and useless, historical paper good for study and reflection on the world as it once was.

And, soon enough, the church will play catch-up again, chasing after the new old thing, the old new thing, ever running, ever forgetting that there is nothing new under the sun, and the fullness of truth is within their grasp, and that the things which seem to delight them are merely fragments of truth. But they’ll cheer and smile, jeer at the foolishness of those just years removed from them, and continue to wonder why the things that worked so well just years ago do not seem to resonate the same way today.

Tick-tock.

Here is a mystery: the wholeness of life found in the swing of the pendulum is not found in any given point in the swing. To say, at any point of the swing, “That is the esssence of the swing” (or, better: “That point is the fullness of the swing.”) is self-evidently foolish. In trying to describe the wholeness of the the pendulum, describing a point misses the point. One can only state that the whole pendulum swing is what makes the whole movement. Clear, no? More clearly: to enthusiastically accept the point of movement within Christian society today as it misses the reality that society only exists, philosophically, on (I’m being broad here, of course) one point between the broad range of what the fullness of life is.

It is (Life, that is) emotional, logical, subjective and empirical. Empty and full. Loving and hating. Knowing and not knowing. Mystery and revealing. Life and death. Subjective and objective. And so it goes. But none of these points are truth in and of themselves; God as a God of love is incomplete without the concept of Him being a God of wrath. Passion apart from dispassion has no basis for passion -- no solid object to be passionate about. Subjectivity cannot exist without an objective thing to subjectively consider. Objective things are have no meaning apart from the consideration. The fullness of Israel’s worshipful creed declaring, “One God” is incomplete without the reality of three seperate entities. I’m not sure I can even express the grandeur and fullness of life, or the incompleteness of life that is bent towards any single one of these views without fully considering the other.

And this is why I hate the new thing, the enthusiasm with which people approach the new thing, which is old, will become old, and will become new again. It goes through this cycle because man knows not truth. Certain Christian writers have had it, in its near fullness. Chambers. Bonhoeffer, also, I believe. Their theological and spiritual writing will probably never date; because it is ever eternal, being based in the eternal, in that thing which comprises the whole pendulum shift. That thing which is the paradox. Chambers knew the Life, and so wrote the Life. The world could shift about him, and he’d be in it but not of it, for the thoughts of the world are of the One Chambers served, but not in that one... and I’d argue that is the paradigm for Christian philosophy, for Christian thought -- for the truth, the way we live in this world.

Parodox. Confusion. Conflict and correlation.

Reality.

Tick. Tock.

( C: 0 )

I haven’t posted lyrics in a while but listening to “Into the Dark” by Juliana Theory for the umpteenth time reminded me how this song provokes me.

Dad, your boy is about to fall.
He walks the razor’s edge.
He’s on the brink of fading out.
He’s at his bitter end.
Dad, your boy who used to run, you taught him how to crawl.
He left home to find his own, now all he had is gone.

Chorus:
In your eyes I see a darkness that torments you
and in your head where it dwells.
I’d give you my hand if you’d reach out and grab it.
Let’s walk away from this hell. (x2)

Mom, your baby is on his way.
He’ll soon be at your side.
Cause he’s forgotten all he’s known.
A part of him has died.
Mom may never understand why baby’s come and gone.
He left home to find his own, now all he has are lies.

Chorus:
In your eyes I see a darkness that torments you
and in your head where it dwells.
I’d give you my hand if you’d reach out and grab it.
Let’s walk away from this hell. (x2)

In your eyes.
In your eyes.
In your eyes.
In your eyes.

Chorus:
In your eyes I see a darkness that torments you
and in your head where it dwells.
I’d give you my hand if you’d reach out and grab it.
Let’s walk away from this hell.(echoes) (x2)

( C: 1 )

27 October 2004

I purchased a cell phone several days ago. This is, in and of itself, an exciting event. It’s also odd that it’s taken me so long to sign on for one. Granted, it’s also taken me a surprisingly long time to get DSL... mostly because both of those items require long term contracts, and I hate the committment. Oh, and I’m cheap.

That aside, my cell is a camera phone -- which means that I’ll (as with my brief but intense flings with scanning and sketching) probably spend the next several weeks rapidly posting low quality photographs of innane and boring things, followed by (once the initial excitement has worn off) sporadic picture taking and posting of innane and boring things.

Take this picture, for example. It’s of Common Grounds.

(Are you prepared for this dull revolution!?)

( C: 10 )

An Essay worth reading: C. S. Lewis in the Public Square

It also affirms a belief I’ve been considering for a while and, in fact, mentioned to a friend just the other day: my contention that Christianity is fundamentally at odds with any pluralistic democracy that is not primarily made of Christians. I might even go so far to say that Christianity is fundamentally in conflict with government though, historically, there’s always an ebb and flow. Lewis’ opinion is, I believe, quite close to my own:

Christianity, with its claims in one way personal and in the other way ecumenical and both ways antithetical to omnicompetent government, must always in fact . . . be treated as an enemy [by the State]. Like learning, like the family, like any ancient and liberal profession, like the common law, it gives the individual a standing ground against the State.

( C: 0 )

26 October 2004

Why is it that many in society will change their opinions when they are met with a person? -- Like those who strongly oppose a lifestyle... then alter their opinion when having met a person who lives that lifestyle. Baring in mind that many hold unsupported opinions, this is a conflict between... I wanted to say, “Personality & objectivity” -- but it is not. Unsupported views on lifestyles is, in actuality, a construct of personality -- an idealiszed negative personality which ought to be opposed. Rather than a general structure of understanding based on what is, what is created is a negative & specific archetype. Such an archetype will naturally fail when it comes into contact with real personality, with all of its complexity.

I listen to the philosopher beside me -- and what has he? Nothing but empty prattle and the arrogance to say both, “In my opinion” and “this is true”. I know how empty his words are, because the things I know to be accurate, he completely misunderstands... but in a cool, understanding -- condescending -- tone which pretends rationality... No -- of course you don’t need an established religion to believe in God, you doof! Why would you? Does belief in a God demand an established religion? No! Why state such an obvious thing in such a proud tone, as if you’ve unraveled the secrets of the universe. -- the question is all wrong! Not, “Can I believe in God?” but “Can I know God?” The focus of your question is utterly egocentric: the problem of will God know you doesn’t even occur to you, because the God you believe is abstract, empty, disconnected. Would we speak in such terms if we were to speak of humans? “I don’t need an established method to believe in humans”... of course not! But you do need an established method of communication -- language -- and a willingness on the part of the other person, in order to communicate. Belief, as such, is not the fundamental question. In this case, it is the problem of knowing, the problem of relationship. Belief in the concept of something requires nothing; but relationship always does.

( C: 0 )

25 October 2004

In choosing absolutes, degrees of probability are not satisfactory.

How can one make a choice based on probability? -- Especially the choice will naturally be affirmed as it is lived? (Skepticism, when it comes to decisions, is no way to love. Objectivity requires separation: Neither skeptics nor objectivists can live a test life, separate from life: such a thing is inherently contradictory) Christianity -- above all religions -- makes this problem worse by making the issue one of choice and improbability: faith acknowledges what we see and does not attempt to influence us by making the decision more palatable. It makes clear the difficulties and does not circumvent them: either believe or not, faith proclaims with utter confidence and audacity. And such is the choice, between faith that cares not for probability and is therefore absolute... and non-faith which is only probability and, hence, utterly un-absolute.

This indicates to me that approaching faith in God -- or knowing God or God himself -- through probability would be to approach the problem on the wrong terms, in the wrong dialect. The choice for faith would not be an utter choice, unless it is based on two distinct possibilities -- not the ambiguous half choice based on probability and skepticism. But how can we make this choice, when all we know is probability? Paradoxically: through faith.

Christianity doesn’t merely push the difficult decision of faith in God aside: it makes the difficult decision even more difficult. “You cannot study God,” it says. “You cannot know Him with out Him. But you must choose him. No study can discover him; you cannot choose to study him and determine, through the experience, whether he can be known or, to what degree of probability he can be know. You can either know Him or not know Him. And you can only know Him if you know Him, because to know him as you are would destroy you: therefore, you cannot know him. You must be redeemed to know him; but you must know him to be redeemed. These are utter choices: absolutes. There are no test cases, no studies. You are either for or against, lost or found, knowing or unknowing. Choose or do not choose.”

The more I reflect, the more difficult the Christian experience becomes -- and the more attractive. It presents a real alternative; it does not back away from reality. Christians may -- but Christianity does not.

(Related.)

( C: 0 )

24 October 2004

Has this society done away with the concept of love? Having mocked its immediacy (replacing romance -- to see her was to love her -- with sex) and rejecting its eternity (replacing eternity -- love which is larger than just this life -- with only the temporal), what, then, remains? It’s as Kierkegaard writes: this world is both tragic and comic. In this case, tragic because it has destroyed itself; and comic, since it continues to exist.

( C: 1 )

So, I’m stepping out of my car at, oh, 2:30am-ish. Grabbing my bags, I walk around behind the car because, traditionally, I walk behind my car. Anyhow, as I walk around the car and turn my back to the street I hear a strange sound. Then I hear it again: some man saying something. I turn to see him striding toward me.

“Neighbor”

Uh. This is weird. I tense up and assume and unassuming defensive posture, since I know no neighbors well enough that they’d feel comfortable enough to entire my driveway at 2:30am and try and talk to me.

“Neighbor!” (the voice has an oddly deep, scratchy element to it)

He gets closer. I stay tense, since I can’t see his right arm -- and that bothers me. I see him a bit. Slightly shorter than me, slightly more built than me, with a hat pulled over his ears and face, and eyes that are kinda glancing all over the place.

“Justin?”

“Yeah... Mark... yeah, I was like thinkin’, uh... how we were all neighbors and stuff and how I see you around...” He’s pacing a bit, nervously. I still can’t see his right hand. “... and how I never, like, talk to you or anything. We were like friends since we were... ” He gestures vaguely with his right hand. Ok, there’s nothing in that hand. Alert level reduced, but still active. “... like this high...”

“Yeah... well,” I stick out my hand. “Uh, good to see you.” Handshake.

“I mean, we’re neighbors and we never -- you got somewhere to go?”

I was tired and a bit nervous about this episode, so I was moving, slowly, in the direction of my home.

“Well, I am kind a tired, but it’s good to talk to you, and I’ll say ‘hey’ when I see you around.”

“Well, I feel kinda stupid... you know... just walkin’ over here and stuff... I feel kinda stupid...”

“Uh -- don’t, you know, it’s cool. I’ll say hi next time I see you.”

“Yeah... Well, you know, I feel kinda stupid about this...”

“No reason. I’ll talk to you sometime.”

“We’re like neighbors and we never really talk or nothin’.”

“Well, I’ll say hi sometime.”

“Yeah...”

“Ok, uh, have a good night...”

“Yeah...”

Point is: weird. He must have been stoned out of his mind.

( C: 3 )

22 October 2004

France’s report said standards of English in schools were poor and worsening.

Its conclusions have been challenged by some politicians, including one deputy from the ruling UMP party, Jacques Myard.

He told Le Monde: “English is the most-spoken language today, but that won’t last.”

He said Spanish, Chinese and Arabic were all growing in importance.

“If we must make a language compulsory, it should be Arabic,” he said.

Note: This is not satire. You gotta wonder about that country...

Update: In other news that makes me cringe and shudder at the horror, Bill Clinton wants to become UN Secretary-General when the Annan’s term expires in 2006.

( C: 4 )

21 October 2004

Flashback Friday. It’s here. Where will it go? I’d initially thought to flashback (like the italics? It’s like we’re really... flashbacking) to the early 90’s and that icon of youth angst, Kurt Cobain. Now, I’m not so sure... I’d like to flashback to this Thursday. Yet, that’s difficult to have a good flashback to -- the flash isn’t bright enough to be cool. It’s, like, totally the difference between static electricity and a giant bolt of lightning cast from the mighty hand of Zeus. Upon this dark and disobedient earth. Sacrifice your oxen, mortals! Grease your bodies that, when the olymics return and it’s time to wrestle, we can more easily discern whether contact with the ground has been made, since the sand will stick to the dirt and make it readily apparent.

That means I’ve decided to write about Kurt Cobain, that icon of youth angst.

So, Kurt Cobain: he played guitar left handed. Had hair. Have I mentioned that he was all kinds of angst-y? Let’s flash back to the early 90’s, and the birth and death of a legend. During the early 90’s I listened. But Kurt Cobain ended up dying, and that was the end of Nirvana, except for the repeated playings of Nirvana’s music: all about the existential angst.

Flash forward about a decade to about a year ago. So, I wake up one day and have an epiphany: my hair -- it was incredibly long. Like, way (shades of flashback) long. I made a crucial decision, that fateful day: I will go get a haircut from someone. Receive a haircut, that is. From a member of the service industry.

I head out the door and begin my hunt. Now, typically, I would head to the Cutcutters in the Factory Outlet the Original Outlet mall. However, I was feeling saucy that day -- I decided to find a new haircuttery. I head to that haircut place up by Target, and walk in the door.

Standard greeting: “Hi, how can I help you?”

“Hi, can I purchase a soul here?” “I need a haircut.”

“Alright.” The woman pauses, asks my name, and pauses again. Opens her mouth. Closes it. Then just goes ahead and says what she had apparently decided not to say:

“You look like Kurt Cobain!”

I smile. Cool, I idly think to myself. I look like a rock icon whose tragic life was cut short by suicide and whose angst has defined a generation. My typical response to good news, a jig, I repressed, and I merely nodded and said, “Heh.” Sitting down to wait, I thought nothing about the incident... until...

The same woman shouted across the room to the other haircutterist: “Hey, LINDA! Doesn’t he ” (Wild gesticulations) “ look like Curt Kobain!?”

“Who?”

“Kurt Cobain!!”

Linda looks at me. “Yeah, he does.”

I smile and nod.

Some guy comes in, asks for a haircut.

“HEY!” “Doesn’t he ” (wild gesticulations) “ look like Kurt Cobain!?”

Guy nods and takes a seat. Crazy Gesticulation Woman calls my name. Apparently, she’s going to cut my hair. As we walk to the seat, she makes idle, friendly, conversation.

“You know, you really look like Kurt Cobain.”

I take the seat and nod.

“So, what kind of haircut do you want -- and you look like Kurt Cobain!”

I sigh. This is going to be a long haircut. I give my standard spew: “Uh... I don’t know. Just cut it and make it look good.”

“Ok. Wow, you look like Kurt Cobain.”

Over the next 10 minutes, crazy woman points out, to everyone entering and leaving the place that I look like Kurt Cobain. And the, mercifully, there was a pause in her conversation. I finally started breathing again.

“So, I had my tubes tied a couple of months ago... “

At this point, I stood from my chair, screamed like a spittle-filled, ranting maniac and threatened suicide as a result of the success I had never truly sought and was, in fact, afraid of -- though, if I’d thought about it, I’d realized that my wife was actually planning on killing me, holding back my newest recordings, and publishing my journals in order make money to support her a) crack b) crazy pill and c) botox habits.

Actually, I knew all these things would happen. It was as if I had a flash of deja vu. So I just sat in my chair, listened to her talk about Kurt Cobain and her tied tubes, thanked her for the haircut, and walked out with the lyrics of “Teen Spirit” echoing in my ears:

And I forget just why I taste
Oh yeah I guess it makes me smile
I found it hard it’s hard to find
Oh well whatever nevermind

ps. Silly me, I decided to give the haircuttery a second chance in order to fill up my little card and get a free haircut. Guess who discovered he looked like Kurt Cobain for a second time?

pps. Uh, so that picture really does look like me and vice versa.

( C: 4 )

Today, I woke with the words, “There must be a more objective way of understanding the world” springing from my lips. And I wonder that I don’t sleep well. (And do androids dream of electronic sheep?)

In other news, I love eggs.

Update. Note to self: Do not substitute for a first grade teacher ever ever ever again. Or remember the rope next time.

Update. pOE & fellow carpenters. In case you’ve not received the proper instruction, do not shoot nails into your heart.

( C: 2 )

WINDHAM, N.H. - Democratic vice presidential candidate John Edwards on Tuesday accused President Bush of failing the United States and the world in Iraq, citing unsecured nuclear weapons abroad and unprotected ports at home as further evidence of the president’s “incompetence.” “He’s created something that didn’t exist before the war in Iraq — he’s created a haven for terrorists,” Edwards said.

Blink.

I’m sorry, what? Could you repeat that in a manner that makes sense?

Speaking of spin: the Romans, upon being defeated in Scotland, potentially did some spinning of their own...

( C: 2 )

19 October 2004

~ Heh? ~

I came across this comment in reference to an article which Glenn Reynolds wrote in the English (paper? magazine?), the Guardian. The comment is so... something... I’m not sure how to react to it. On one hand, it’s so steriotypical (in the negative sense) that I want to laugh and imagine that such a comment isn’t typical of the European mindset. On the other hand, it’s there... so at least some Europeans apparently take the position that the Constitution is “mumbo-jumbo”. Mumbo-jumbo? Mumbo-jumbo?! Wow. I don’t know if I want to laugh, or what.

Anyway, I’d imagine that Euro’s are much like Americans: fond of chattering about things they’ve never seriously looked into. People will be people. Our nature is to reinforce our own ignorance -- and strongly believe in it. But wow... yeah, I’ve decided that all I can do is laugh. Mumbo-jumbo...

Oh -- and this is a fascist state that suppresses the free press and goes to war for oil. Only oil. [Don’t say that, they’ll come after you too -- ed. You’re right! I deny any knowledge of that dark plot! They’ll take me down like Sean Penn or Michael Moore!] Cuz it’s all about oil. If I were a song-writer, I’d write a song called “It’s all about oil” and it’d be the romantic ballad of G.W. and his emotional attachment to oil -- and how France and German tried to steal his love away...

(I note again, ad nausum. Any first world country who does not base a large part of their foreign policy on oil is foolish. But anyone who says that oil is the only reason America went to war... ah, whatever...)

A load of typical America drivel, that lacks any historical and cultural awareness. Instead it is dressed up in pseudo-arguments and references to the constitution, that pile of mumbo-jumbo. So the war on terror is really a war on fundamental Islam, really, or should we call that a crusade. The war on terror is a lie. America is not at war. This is a war for oil and profits. It is another chapter in murderous American foreign policy. Glenn Reynolds like virtually every single American is blinkered and so indoctrinated by the world’s most effective propoganda machine, the American ‘free’ press that his arguments are devoid of argument, insight and evidence. Lest we forget CIA agent Saddam Hussein and CIA agent Osama Bin Laden were American creations.

As a sidenote: the Guardian is the publication that has decided to take an active role in our elections by encouraging foreigners to contact voters in Clark County, Ohio, and express their opinions. If I were living in Ohio, and got a phone call or email from someone in England who wanted to tell me who to vote for -- and, yes, I know, the article doesn’t state who they ought to endorse, but the Guardian is, unsurprisingly, rapidly anti-Bush -- I’d be pissed off. Severely. And, yes, even if that caller asked me to vote for Bush.

Update: from the Guardian:
American law forbids foreigners from giving money to affect the outcome of a federal election - except that, on closer inspection, it doesn’t. You’re banned from donating to the campaigns themselves, or to many of the independent campaigning groups that fight explicitly on behalf of one candidate. So you need to identify officially non-partisan groups whose activities, none the less, have the practical effect of helping one candidate over the other. “Perhaps the most important way foreigners could help John Kerry would be to help out those organisations which have, as part of their mission, fostering African-American voter turnout,” says Nathaniel Persily, a Pennsylvania university expert on election law. “It’s quite clear that if there was 100% African-American turnout in Ohio, Pennsylvania and Florida, John Kerry would win this election running away.”

(so... let’s obey the letter of the law and find a way of meddling in America’s elections! What a fun game!)

Via Powerline blog -- which has a worth reading post on the topic

Final Answer: The buzzword of the year in England is... Chav!

( C: 5 )

Forgive today’s fit of despair. It will pass, as all things do. Generally, I vent to my notebook. Today, it goes to the blog. I’m not sure why, since I’d be better served keeping these moments to myself. These posts tend to paint a rather dour and incomplete picture of who I am. Frankly, this is my fault: few have a very coherent view of me, and this, I’ll admit, is intentional. Most either see the ironic joker or the brooder, and never at the same time. I’m far more multifascited and prismatic [yes, that’s a reference to what you think it’s a reference to] than these posts tend to indicate -- that whole “more than the sum” thing. If anyone should deign to take this post as a complete representation of who I am at any other moment than this one... that’d be a mistake, and a complete misunderstanding of the nature of what I’m wrestling with.

Today, bleakness. The hovering cloud that obscures sight, yet clarifies self. It is said that the blind develop keen hearing, to reposses some of their loss. Such is this mood: obfuscated blindness... confusion. And fits of clarity. Rarely about the visible world (how can that be? I am turned utterly inward)... Most often, about self. Exaggerated fits of clarity, that is: the lense focused too well, missing the blur of moment, capturing the moment, but missing the moment’s essence. True, such moments are, yet misleading. True but false.

It is days like these where I am tempted to destroy my journals, my writings, this blog. Remove them all. Cast them away. The flaws become apparent; the failed logic; the insipid thought. The blind not leading the blind, but following and pretending sight: “Look around,” comes the weak shout. “Look around! See the world!” But there is no vision, no sight, merely the rambings of one who can only listen and repeat, listen and repeat, listen and repeat.

I understand the futility of the destruction: for what I wish to destroy is not my writings, but flawed thought. Emotively, it feels as if such an act would be a baptism of a sort, a fresh start, an attempt to be redeemed -- a new birth. Ah, to start again...! But that is not is possible; I can only make do with the faculties I now possess, which are woefully inadequate to my task, a task set upon by better minds than I. But, for good or for ill, I have chosen this path, and it must be tread.

This too will past; and each day is heavy enough for its own evil. I oughtn’t trouble myself: what I am is what I am, and despair is nothing if not ultimately naccisistic -- water to the ego. A prime example of cor curvum in se, the heart turned inward upon itself.

But I will live and breathe another day, and perhaps that day... that day will be the day of vision.

( C: 2 )

18 October 2004

~ Tidbits ~

Bit sized pieces of information:

Added two to my blogroll: Iraq the Model and Soxblog.

I have a resting heartbeat of 54. Dang healthy.

I ran 2.6 miles the other day and could have run more. But I didn’t want to.

Here’s a cool logo design thread I’ve been meaning to link.... And a bad architecture blog... and a cool illustration and design blog...

Fair or no, the top ad is one of the funniest political ads I’ve ever seen.

I need 3 more tires for my car. They seem to be leaking air. That cannot be good.

If you’ve not yet come across the dullest blog in the world, go read it. Right now.

Alright. That’s all the tidbits I have for now.

Update:
This page has some interesting audio and video clips from discarded TV video feeds -- the stuff that goes on before the program is comes on-air. In an exceedly amusing clip, Dan Rather wonders about the stiffness of his hair...

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If you’re one of those who a) think that religion is the opiate of the masses, a blinder to the truth, the dark spot on humanity’s rug, the proverbial ant in ointment, the most evil thing in existence and b) believe that Bush’s belief in religion is... an opiate for the masses, a blinder to the truth, the dark spot on America’s rug, the proverbial ant in the ointment, and the most evil thing in existence because he believes he’s like a prophet and stuff and that God’s all like got his back when in fact we know it is the DARK LORD SATAN who is guiding each and every one of his steps since he is bent on destroying the world (that is, Satan & Bush)...

then don’t read this article, which I am reproducing below. I find these personal stories about Bush to be remarkably compelling and insightful as to who Bush, the man, truly is. And, yes, I find this story to be comforting. And utterly at odds with the persona often bandied about by some: that is, evil idiot-genius... a parodox I’ll never quite comprehend.

Read on...

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