Saturday, February 26, 2005

Co-Opting the Evil.

The world is odd. The lines have blurred. No longer can I easily differentiate between Black and White, Good and Evil. Forced to look around and accept the good, the bad, the ugly, the insane, the brilliant, the rich, the poor, the liberals, the conservatives, the environmentalists, the oil whores, the drunks, the druggies, the Trekkies, the homeless, the militant, the pacifists, the Christians, the Catholics, the Muslims, the atheists, the agnostic, the deists, the scientists, the crazy, the lazy, the activists, and the apathetic. It’s become (Or perhaps always was) a chaotic grey melting pot of the global society where distinction and classification is a futile pursuit.

Myself, I began with far loftier goals, more noble objectives, and a much greater regard for my fellow man. Somewhere, however, I lost the passion. I’ve been set adrift in listless resignation. That glazed over gaze of disinterest found a home upon my face.

It takes but a glance in the mirror, or to see the same look reflected in the eyes of another to cause a reaction somewhere between nausea and dismay. A sadness for the lost innocence and enthusiasm of youth that has been replaced by the strangely comforting realization that I know nothing.

At 16 I knew, beyond a doubt, that I could make a difference - That fate and destiny were collaborating and that good would triumph over evil. How could it possibly not?

It turns out; however, that fate and destiny are fickle friends. Enthusiasm fades. Eventually the realization that change is not an easy thing and that not everyone shares in your glorious vision of Utopia kick you upside the head. Change is a painfully slow process. It threatens to wear you down piece by piece until, from the most unexpected avenues, something appears to restore your faith, something that sparks your spirit and rekindles your drive.

This time around you don’t waste energy foolishly trying to change everything around you. You accept that which you can’t alter and embrace it rather than struggle against it. Focus the energy on yourself and your surroundings - Things you actually have a fleeting chance to improve. I have, for the most part, given up on trying to affect the vast majority of the sheeply population I encounter. Now I simply find it enough to not let them have an affect on me.

Live life on your own terms. Influence who and what you can - Realize who and what you can’t. Realize that abstinence and sobriety are not the answer. Remember what it felt like to be young and alive – recapture that feeling. Rejuvenate your psyche, invigorate your spirit and refuse to surrender to the darkness.

Friday, February 25, 2005

And that is the gods honest truth...

The Truth?

Largely a relative term as malleable and erratic as the people who support or denounce it. In the purest sense, I suppose, perhaps, a wondrous thing. However, it, like anything else we are forced to contend with, is as subjective and prone to differing perspectives. So far as I can determine the only purpose which remains for the truth - To determine the victor in an argument. Even then the results are subject to change. (With or without assistance from Florida or Ohio Polling Booths). The truth, it seems, has become largely irrelevant.


So now even the most innocent dialectic is destined to degenerate into the most diabolic of diatribes. The inevitable dissemination of information, as simple as it is in today’s era, tends not to result in a united society firmly and faithfully steadfast in their position of the truth, but rather in their blind acceptance of that which they are led to believe is the truth.

So if I’ve no faith in the truth to set me free, what option remains? Revert to my childhood and resort to such things as Aesop's Fables to guide my morally decrepit existence? Quaint fairy tale like stories that, if nothing else, manage to capture my imagination and spirit? Or go with greater, more fantastic works of fiction? Old Testaments, New Testaments, generally any mainstream religious text? Personally I'm all for varying belief systems, provided it delivers some vector for our youth to follow that deviates in some notable fashion from the Noah, Jonah, Sodom and Gomorrah feast commonly rammed down our throats.

So fantasy, Fairy Tales, and Fables it is. Falsehoods and fallacies, but at least they serve a purpose and at the end you can find a moral to the story. Somewhat refreshing in a time when even the most fundamental truths are so vehemently disputed by philosophers, scientists, crackpots, and zealots.

Or perhaps The Egyptians - Arguably one of the most advanced and architecturally ept peoples in history worshipped... Cats. So, faithful worship of cute, cuddly, and furry felines led to the creation of the Pyramids. Many others discover such ventures as the crusades, a Jihad or two, and The Inquisition.

Can I please have a kitten?

But I digress. The last thing I desire is a theological debate. (Except on Tuesday when the Witness's come over for coffee...)

Babble, Babble, Toil and Trouble...

Where was I? Oh yes!


Couldn't we just all agree on some sort of obtuse verisimilitude? Accept that myths and legends have as much plausibility as any other written testament and allow cognitive dissonance to do the rest?

"The Truth is out there"? Doubtful.

Odds are "The Truth is in Here".

Sadly it’s as muddled, perplexing and discombobulated as this entry.

… "ept"?

Friday, February 18, 2005

Rainbows and Unicorns

Taking a little bit of advice that arrived via e-mail correspondence I have decided to dig out a pair of those rose coloured glasses and attempt to find a little ray of sunshine to brighten my day. At first I had intended to ignore such a request entirely and no amount of badgering or dolphining (Don't ask - odds are only two people on the planet will understand) was going to sway me. Then I got to thinking about it. Sunshine and roses? Write from such a deviant perspective? Almost a challenge. And I am a sucker for a challenge.

The trick here, I believe, is to find something that makes me happy. Something that brings me pleasure - Something that instills some degree of faith and a glimmer of hope.

So we have koala bears. Rather cute and cuddly looking little critters. Spend most of their days in a slothful existence getting high on eucalyptus. Thoroughly inspirational. If I had to choose another mammal to become, the koala would be the one.

And beautiful women. And not just those that are attractive on the outside, but ones that truly have an inner glow and an infectious smile. The type that just seem to exude an enchanting aura of excellence, intelligence, and mischievousness. (Preferably ones you know and can actually talk to, NOT those that consider you an adorable and harmless stalker)

Good friends. Those whom despite your most grievous drunken transgressions, or the most heated debates about trivial topics, still accept your calls and can often be convinced to join you for a beer. (Or coffee. Or tequila. Or whiskey.)

A workplace that allows you to have conversations like this one:

Employee: "M, I think there is a problem with my cheque. I don't think I got paid for the 10th and 11th."
M: "New policy. Now I only pay you what I think you are worth each day."
Employee: Stunned Silence
M: Click

(Ok, may have missed the mark slightly, but it brought me a moderate amount of enjoyment.)

See, already I'm feeling much better about life. It's not all so bad. I'm sure that with just a little work and effort we can easily turn the tides of darkness that I usually see washing over the land. I'll just try and cleverly coerce the nearest Unicorn into leading me to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and use it to fund programs to assist those less fortunate.

And then there are the ever-vigilant entities such as Greenpeace, Unicef, NATO, Bushco, and the Roman Catholic Church looking out for our best interests. Often enough they are even helpful enough to explain to us what is in out best interest.

Speaking of the Church- Anyone else noticed how the Pope is starting to look more alien-like as he sits on his holy seat in the Vatican. I swear he's looking all pasty like a fragile plaster puppet. It makes me wonder if perhaps The Vatican City is being run by Jim Henson. Yes, folks - Fozzie Bear is learning Latin.

Hopefully this small gesture is enough to placate the unruly masses. If not, may I suggest a Blog of your own?

But I really need to get out of these glasses – The pink elephant is really starting to freak me out and these colours are bloody annoying.

Thursday, February 17, 2005

Communication 101

Communication via the Internet is a confounding beast. Despite your greatest efforts the point is almost always misconstrued (When it’s not missed entirely). I am, without a doubt, as guilty as the rest of the world in this. I’ve read through dozens of blogs and left comments, only to realize later how pathetically badly I managed to remain completely oblivious to the actual meaning of what I read.

Normally I would just write it off as the inevitable result of crack, bad Taco’s, the annoying distraction of sheep grazing in the front yard, and a general refusal to believe there may actually be a deeper meaning to be found within the words I see. Careful consideration, however, has led me to a different conclusion.

Quite simply I am stupid. Due to the offensive amount of complete gibberish that is available for my bored perusal and the dismaying amount of dumbed-down drivel that I encounter throughout the course of a day, my mind has become numb. Occasionally something worthy comes along and sparks interest. Then I’m forced to endure a few moments of agony as my slumbering mind awakens and the shooting pain of pins and needles begins.

I think what is needed is a Coles Notes (Or Cliff Notes, or Classic Notes) to assist in proper translation and to uncover all the hidden nuances that may otherwise be lost. Something that provides a clever, concise synopsis that explains cultural considerations, inside jokes, and the intended audience.

It may help, or it may not. Somehow I still think I would wind up engaged in a discussion of my favorite type of Taco, the proper techniques to care for the abundance of sheep the plague my fair city, or the best locations to procure some crack.

My own fault I suppose for never pursuing a higher level of education or striving to obtain my Masters in Linguistics. Destined it seems, for a lifetime of ignorance and misunderstanding.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

The wonders of nature...

This morning at about 9:35 am AKST I had the delightful pleasure of experiencing my very first earthquake first hand. I’m quite thankful that it was just a small one with a magnitude rating around 5. It’s rather disconcerting when the ground begins to shake and move beneath your feet.

At long last years of practicing walking while inebriated has finally paid off. A keen sense of balance combined with finely developed ability to remain standing no matter how drastically the floor seems to spin and tilt ensured my relative safety during this momentous occasion.

Later this evening I think I may be forced to try and reenact the event in the name of research. My dedication is such that I vow not to stop until I have reached a comparable level of ground movement.

Then I’ll have a nap.

Monday, February 14, 2005

Happy Valentine's Day

Finally a horoscope I can believe, courtesy of SFgate:

SCORPIO October 23-November 21 This Valentine's Day is spent placating loved ones and/or in-laws. Thrillsville. Your Significant Other owes you one.

In other related news:

Cupid was found dead in his room early this morning. Cause of death has yet to be confirmed but early reports indicate it may have been complications stemming from the two arrows in his eyes. The bow, as of yet, remains missing. Investigators expect it to be located once they shed a little light where the light normally doesn't shine.

One exhuberant officer expressed his amazement at the length of the list of possible suspects.

The chief investigator replied: "Suspects? Clearly it was suicide."

After which she was rumoured to have been heard muttering: "Fuck Cupid."

Saturday, February 12, 2005

Lethargic Tedium

Despite the fact that I have absolutely no project to work on and have no paperwork remaining on my desk it was politely suggested that I come into the office for a few hours today. So, with no productive avenue left open to me I have, instead, relaspsed into blog addiction. Thus far I have surfed about a half dozen or more times through:

Stupid Beautiful, The Cynic Ward, McBickle, The Center of the Universe, Miss.White, Karendipity, Mark Morford, Sigurd, Emnlyn, Indy, Misfit, Iris, Melville, Common Dreams, and managed to use up whatever creativity that hasn't been leached from my body commenting about Cupid on Xtina's Blog.

The point is folks, that I am bored and count on you all to produce distractions from the monotony of a wasted afternoon.

Thanks for that.

Friday, February 11, 2005

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.

Ever seriously wondered about your mental health? Sat down quietly and reflected upon the possibility that you are, indeed, losing it? Come to the conclusion that you do not, even remotely, view the world in the same manner as all of those around you?

It's almost as though everyone else is engrossed in perpetrating some sick joke and you are the only one that isn't in on it. A truly disturbing feeling.

Certainly I've had it before and this isn't the first time I've felt this way. Generally whenever I begin to think I've got a screw loose I eventually determine I'm fine at that the rest of them have simply wound it in too tight. Far too tight.

Throbbing in the head, "Ouch, that hurts", could pop at any moment tight.

For validation of my little fantasy I really don't have to look any further than my nearest news source. Road rage ending in a fatality, postal workers going... well... postal, domestic violence, and an ever increasing rate of suicide. Do I really need any more clues to lead me to determine that there is a definitely something going on that I don't truly understand?

The feeling of being lost and alone in the woods even though you are surrounded by a multitude of others is quite disturbing. I realize it is a result of my own deluded paranoia and my own innate distrust of humanity, but I've come to believe it all stems from my inability to fully comprehend the reasoning behind much of what I see.

As the waters of popular opinion ebb and flow, I always seem to be struggling against the tide. In an era of globalization, political correctness, and understanding I somehow manage to feel isolated, dead wrong, and confused.

Deep down I think I'm OK with that.

Why? Because it gives me something to wonder about, something to distract me from the everyday pressure and stress that appears to envelope much of the population of Mother Earth. It causes me to avoid the mundane stagnation of blind acceptance that too often sets in and forces the mind to focus on nothing more that a little house on the prairie with a white picket fence, a drooling dog, and 2.4 children screaming that they want more.

Quite recently I received a brilliant piece of advice via e-mail: "Do whatever the hell makes you feel good."

Which is, of course, what I attempt to do each and every day. Why fight against your nature to attempt to conform and fit into society? A dog-eat-dog society in which the dollar is given more importance than health, the environment, and basic common sense? A society in which war, famine, pollution, and death are acceptable so long as you have the money and the oil rights?

"Hello? Four Horseman of the Apocalypse? Please feel free to take the next few years off and vacation in Vegas. We seem to be doing fine here without you."

Screw it... I need a drink.

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

You've got to be #$%$#$% kidding me...

Warning: Never open e-mail before your morning coffee.

The life of a pretentious crack addict isn’t an easy one. Add to the mix adult ADD, a compulsive drinking disorder, a weakness for women, wine, and most things wicked and it’s amazing I have the time to relax for a coffee break and watch absently as the thin tendrils of smoke waft lazily about in the light breeze.

Damn. Where was I? Oh yes… Skies are blue and the ground is white. From inside it looks wonderfully picturesque. Venture forth, however, and you quickly realize “Holy #@$%! It’s cold.”

Mind numbingly so. Frozen synapses don’t tend to fire as well. Which is, of course, my own personal excuse for all the stupid things I do. Brain cells damaged by frostbite. A rare affliction. Cure unknown.

Anyway, combine that with the ever so nasty side effects of consuming cold, week old, Mexican Taco’s that were expertly smuggled across the border and it is no surprise that friends and strangers alike express concern about my health. After all I do tend to have some degree of difficulty maintaining one simple and coherent thought…

I remember once, as a child, I wanted to be a fireman. Well, not exactly a fireman, more specifically a Fire Inspector. Not from some morbid fascination or pyro type tendencies, but because of an odd interest in cause and effect. And the fact that they had cool uniforms.

Over the years the novelty of uniforms and fire has dissipated, but I am still left with the strange curiosity for cause and effect. No longer of flames, but now of human behavior. The preoccupation with trying to determine why something is done has led me to briefly peruse through a variety of books and subjects in search of answers: Behavioral science, philosophy, psychology, history, religions (both ancient and modern), biology, physics, chemistry, the occult, and drama.

The result: I know nothing.

Without intimate knowledge of circumstance and other mitigating factors it is impossible to truly understand the meaning and motivation of anyone’s actions. Even with such knowledge it is a largely futile quest. Most days I tend to question why I do the things I do and fail to come up with a reasonably logical conclusion.

Which make me wonder deeply how people (Some friends, some who I’ve never spoken to) have the audacity to assume that they know me, and worse yet, that they know what is best for me.

Differing views, opinions, and thoughts of value I enjoy and respect and, in fact, often look forward to during the day.

“You must do this or you shall burn forever in the fiery depths of hell” type reactions can, for lack of a more suitable phrase at the moment, can go straight to hell. And if, by chance, I should end up there please rest assured that I shall endeavour to fulfill my childhood dream and investigate the cause and effect of the eternal flames.

I’m almost certain that once again the point will be lost (Mostly because I’m not sure if I had one) and that once more I am in danger of damnation for the remainder of eternity, but then since when is that anything new?

I suppose I could delve more deeply into it, attempt to clarify a few details that are apparently a little vague and ambiguous. But really, where would be the fun in that? I’d say something about who this is directed at, something trite like “You know who you are.”

Unfortunately I’m not convinced they do, but refuse to expound any more on the subject.

Have a fabulous day.

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Oh Look! A Castle!

Odds are I should apologize in advance for this little entry. I think boredom and isolation threaten to get the best of me...

Once again I find myself pondering the relationships that people become involved in. Now, I'm not just talking the romantic or sexual relationships that develop between a man and a woman, but those that develop between any groups of interacting people. I can't help notice how they tend to resemble this luke warm Taco that seems to have mysteriously made its way to my desk. At first it began as a warm, moderately tasty treat designed solely to provide sustenance for a hungry soul. A chaotic mixture of unclear ingredients held together tentatively by a fragile shell. Caution is required when you take the first bite. Rush too quickly or squeeze with excessive force and the shell is likely to break, leaving you with nothing but a mess dropped unceremoniously in your lap and you asking the question "How did that happen?"

Proceed with care, however, and you can safely navigate your way through the entire Taco. Set it down and leave it untouched for a while and it tends to lose some flavour and the crisp shell becomes soggy. The cheese coagulates and hardens and in time it simply doesn't seem as desirable as it did a short while ago. "What am I doing eating this crap?" You wonder. Leave it long enough and you simply discard the cold stale remains and decide to go find yourself a steak and lobster dinner. After all, you deserve better.

Sadly you find yourself disappointed with the new meal. The steak is prepared poorly and requires a chainsaw to cut through and the lobster overcooked and rubbery. Despite some fabulous peppercorn and garlic-butter seasoning it still leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You leave wanting more and have developed a powerful thirst.

Your coffee, once hot, aromatic and providing that necessary boost to keep you going has become cool, bitter, and relatively stagnant. Thankfully the bar is open and you realize it is never too early for a Caesar. Cool and refreshing, with vitamins, vodka, and a healthy vegetable garnish. Three more and they too seem to strangely lose their appeal. You switch to rum until it too becomes dull. Inevitable gin and juice takes over until you awaken in the morning. Head throbbing, feeling dehydrated, and once again requiring sustenance. You guzzle back a gallon of water that oddly acquires a taste that matches the disturbing feel of your mouth. Dying of hunger you reach for the half eaten Taco discarded on the table and ravenously consumes all that is left. The best food ever.

Now, after a brief nap on the couch, all is well.

Yes, I know, a sad metaphor. But I already apologized. Sorry about your luck. I'd continue, but amazingly enough I'm hungry again. I wonder if I can get a Caesar this early...

Sunday, February 06, 2005

Now is the Winter of our Discontent...

Occasionally I find myself torn between becoming a social pariah hermetically sealed on some desolate mountain top, or fully submerging myself within the faceless masses that shuffle forth each morning completely oblivious to the fact that a world exists around them. Other days I feel a strange, entirely inexplicable desire to change it - An uncontrollable yearning to, in some witless fashion, force them to open their eyes and take note of life passing them by in some unseen anonymity. Perhaps to feel some empathy for their fellow man, rather than the apathy that continues to run rampant. This feeling commonly fades quickly once I remember that I am far too self-centered, self-righteous, pretentious, and, of course, largely insensitive to waste such an effort. To approach the world with a purely altruistic, self-sacrificing manner would simply seem absurd. A wasted effort destined for failure despite the admirable attempt. It is, in my own ever-so-humble opinion, impossible to keep everybody happy all of the time, and exceptionally difficult to keep even part of them happy part of the time. You can almost certainly be assured that someone will not approve of your actions. Which leads to them being despondent, frustrated, or angry and expecting you to offer a supplicating apology and perform some theatrical penance in order to pacify them. The reaction is usually irrational and moderately irritating, thus the odds of appeasement improbable. Then there are the days when you stumble across something that causes you to realize that all is not wrong with the world and that it’s all just a wee bit askew at the moment and that given a few million millennia all will be back the way it was intended - Some ethereal and serendipitous event that has the potential to change you forever. Suddenly you realize that it will be OK and that there is no need for you to worry about the current state of affairs. It was a chance meeting for me. One I had not planned. A strange meeting outside the airport and it seemed the man had been waiting for me. He furtively handed me small bag and whispered those four life altering words:

“Here, have some crack.”

Now, if you’ll excuse me I really must run. Seems I’ve lost my pipe.
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