About twelve years ago on a typical sweltering summer evening, I sat on the steps leading up to my apartment sipping on a lukewarm Coors Light (nectar of the gods at that time) longneck. Lukewarm because during July in Texas if you don’t down it in less than two minutes that’s what happens. I probably shotgunned the first one for that very reason but I was taking it easy on number two. There was no hurry. I had nowhere to be, nothing to do. I was almost always grateful for that condition back then. Not that I had a bustling social life. By then I had almost no social life. I’d phased it out over a number of years for reasons that were surely misunderstood by those who I ran with for so long before.
I needed to explore and expand. I needed to start figuring out who I was and who I would be. I needed plenty of solitude and free time; time to dabble in loneliness and introversion and unfamiliarity. In short, time and space for an inward journey that had begun years before but was constrained by old habits and roles.
It’s fascinating to feel yourself changing as it happens. To notice things that were once so deadly important to you become not that important at all. To watch your previous hopes and fears dissolve and be replaced by new hopes and fears; in my case, ones that were now mostly vague and undefined.
Back in those days – I call them my apartment days – there were some very large and looming questions, intimidating but exciting. Will I graduate with a high enough GPA? Where will I live? What will my job be? How will I get that job? There will be a girl. Who will she be? What will she be like? How will we meet? Have we already met?
These are fun questions. It’s only natural for there to be a little anxiety around questions like these, and for me there was, but more importantly there was just an underlying sense of knowing that it was all going to work out. I never knew how. I just knew it would work out. I never stressed myself over it too much. There was something beautiful about not knowing. That little bit of anxiety was really more like anticipation.
Many a summer evening was spent sitting out on those steps, drinking beer and letting my thoughts wander where they may. Reflecting on where I’d been, looking out into a vague outline of the future. I always felt like I was ‘on my way up’ during that period, which made sense because as a college student that is really the only direction to go. And that is a very free feeling. Those college days had their stressors. Make no mistake about it. There were exams to study for and cumbersome, time consuming projects with approaching deadlines - always last minute undertakings for me. But there was also a certain wide open, anything is possible feeling of freedom that you really don’t appreciate when you actually have it.
That’s one of the things they don’t tell you when you are young and on your way up. They don’t tell you that that nothing-to-lose feeling, though it may have a bit of an edge, is actually a very worthwhile state of being. It’s a bliss that will go away once you’ve established yourself, acquired the things you set out to acquire, and generally achieved what you set out to achieve.
Sitting on those apartment steps ruminating away the summer evenings I often felt like I was starting to figure things out. It is so cliché but so undeniably true that when you’re young, totally inexperienced in the world, and know next to nothing, you really do think that you know it all. And that’s probably so because life hasn’t had time yet to confront you with what you don’t know. It’s easy to be convinced of your own brilliance when it’s been all theory and no practice. Nonetheless – it’s still a sublime state, a necessary one, and one that anyone over the age of thirty will probably find themselves missing at some point in their lives.
Which I think leads me to the point of this meandering, out-of-practice, disjointed attempt at an internet age cave scrawling. When I was sitting there nursing that watered down beer twelve years ago, I really had figured out a lot. I knew change was coming. I knew I’d get to where I needed to be in life and that worrying too much about it was a waste of energy. I knew that if I completed the immediate steps that were there in front of me that the future would work itself out. The Universe would provide. It always had.
But there was at least one epic truth that I was completely blind to. Success and achievement come with a price – a heavy price if we are honest with ourselves. And that price is a freedom and light-heartedness that can only exist when you have nothing to lose; when you have your whole life in front of you, when things are more theoretical than practical, more whimsical than utilitarian.
I have a lot now, in every sense of the word. I’ve accomplished what I set out to accomplish. I feel both lucky and grateful for it. But I also have a lot to lose now. And I’m old enough to see how fragile life really is. How it can go so quickly, and how forces that are completely out of my control could take it from me.
Do I long to go back to being twenty five, sitting on a balcony drinking beer with scarcely a care in the world and not much to lose? Not for a second. This is a different phase of the journey, with different happiness and different anxieties. I didn’t see the flipside of adulthood and success when I was twenty five but I can look back on some of my concerns from that time and be comforted and reassured about what lies ahead. Those old questions have been replaced with new ones that are no less intimidating or significant. But I have the experience now to know that worrying about them is not worth my precious time. Now, just as then, the Universe will provide. And knowing that is one of the things that make me smile when I sit out on the back porch and have a beer these days.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Perspective
When you go over two months without writing a blog post you know what happens? You kind of forget how to make a blog post. But after that much times goes by you start to feel compelled to write something because over the years some friendships have formed and your only point of contact is the blog and it’s only fair to let those people know that you are still alive and that you still know how operate a keyboard. So…I am, and I do.
I’ve often thought it would be kind of cool and useful to start writing little life lessons down that a 34 year old Ben would tell a 20 year old Ben (or some other young dude). I recently made a mental note that when I got back to this blog that is exactly what I would do, but as it is, I’m going to keep that on hold for the time being because something very significant happened a few weeks ago and it merits a mention here.
A few weeks ago I received a message that my two year old niece had had a really bad accident and was in ICU at one of our local hospitals – one that just happens to be one of the best children’s hospitals in the United States. She had fractured her skull and face in multiple places and was on a breathing machine with an uncertain future.
Getting this news was a 9/11 kind of moment for me (and obviously more so for my brother and his wife). I’ll never forget where I was and what I was doing at the time or the tones of voices of the various family members who I spoke to, all within maybe a five minute period. That period was followed by a frantic rush to get out of the house and to the hospital. On arriving at the hospital I saw the single worst sight I have ever seen in my entire life: that precious two year old girl with a hugely swollen face, large black/red circles around her eyes, small amounts of blood coming from her nose and ears, and numerous tubes coming out of her throat and limbs, and the various machinery that connected to those tubes; then of course my brother and sister and law, and the looks of horror and helplessness on their faces.
I’m not going to try to describe the emotion or drama of that whole event. For one, I’d never do it justice but the main reason is because it doesn’t matter now. What matters now is that this is happy post. And these are happy times. These are times that are the little wake up calls reminding you that every moment is precious and nothing is to be taken for granted.
To sum it up, my niece was in ICU on a ventilator machine for about five days. On the afternoon of the fifth day they removed her breathing tube (and the other various tubes) and she immediately began breathing on her own and her body began functioning as it should. It wasn’t an easy journey by any stretch but after two weeks she was released from the hospital, and now, on the third week, she is walking, talking, climbing, laughing, eating, and doing all the things that two year olds do; which is really something considering this time last week she could not walk without falling over or stand up without holding on to something. She is in a large neck brace and still has some physical therapy ahead of her but for the most part is back to her old self.
I do not like the word miracle but this has been an extraordinary recovery and endless Gratitude is the name of the game for this uncle and this family.
I’ve often thought it would be kind of cool and useful to start writing little life lessons down that a 34 year old Ben would tell a 20 year old Ben (or some other young dude). I recently made a mental note that when I got back to this blog that is exactly what I would do, but as it is, I’m going to keep that on hold for the time being because something very significant happened a few weeks ago and it merits a mention here.
A few weeks ago I received a message that my two year old niece had had a really bad accident and was in ICU at one of our local hospitals – one that just happens to be one of the best children’s hospitals in the United States. She had fractured her skull and face in multiple places and was on a breathing machine with an uncertain future.
Getting this news was a 9/11 kind of moment for me (and obviously more so for my brother and his wife). I’ll never forget where I was and what I was doing at the time or the tones of voices of the various family members who I spoke to, all within maybe a five minute period. That period was followed by a frantic rush to get out of the house and to the hospital. On arriving at the hospital I saw the single worst sight I have ever seen in my entire life: that precious two year old girl with a hugely swollen face, large black/red circles around her eyes, small amounts of blood coming from her nose and ears, and numerous tubes coming out of her throat and limbs, and the various machinery that connected to those tubes; then of course my brother and sister and law, and the looks of horror and helplessness on their faces.
I’m not going to try to describe the emotion or drama of that whole event. For one, I’d never do it justice but the main reason is because it doesn’t matter now. What matters now is that this is happy post. And these are happy times. These are times that are the little wake up calls reminding you that every moment is precious and nothing is to be taken for granted.
To sum it up, my niece was in ICU on a ventilator machine for about five days. On the afternoon of the fifth day they removed her breathing tube (and the other various tubes) and she immediately began breathing on her own and her body began functioning as it should. It wasn’t an easy journey by any stretch but after two weeks she was released from the hospital, and now, on the third week, she is walking, talking, climbing, laughing, eating, and doing all the things that two year olds do; which is really something considering this time last week she could not walk without falling over or stand up without holding on to something. She is in a large neck brace and still has some physical therapy ahead of her but for the most part is back to her old self.
I do not like the word miracle but this has been an extraordinary recovery and endless Gratitude is the name of the game for this uncle and this family.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
On Civility, Or: Real Life Versus The Internets
Those of us who have spent a considerable amount of time discussing and debating politics and current events online have a tendency to become quite the vitriol spewing blowhards. There is something about this medium – primarily the anonymity and lack of physical proximity to one’s opponents – that just fosters over-the-top invective. As an admitted and experienced online socio-political demagogue, I’m more than qualified to express this observation. I’ve spent enough time engaged in this activity to realize that those of us who do this become cartoonish caricatures of normal, opinionated human beings.
That’s not to say that it’s a completely negative or non-worthwhile hobby. To the contrary, if you hang out in the right online locales and tangle with enough well-informed, intelligent opponents, it can be quite the learning experience. But almost as a rule, it gets very nasty very fast and otherwise mature, reasonable adults end up in virtual shit-slinging fests that would (or should) be completely humiliating in a less anonymous, real world environment.
I’m all for debate and discussion. Indeed, it is a pity to me that discussing politics is considered such an impolite taboo. It’s one of the things that drives me to online discussion forums. In the real world we are so concerned about not offending our peers that we have conditioned ourselves to just not discuss these matters that really do affect all of us very deeply. It’s like we’ve admitted that we lack the capacity to have grown up discussions about grown up topics. This, in my view, is a serious mistake. Vigorous debate is healthy, necessary even. Especially in a democracy where, allegedly, peons like us actually have some control of our political fortunes. It’s okay that we have strong disagreements. That is actually the point of a democratic republic; to have a structured and civilized way to direct public policy in a manner that accounts for differing viewpoints and preferences. It is more than a little tragic that it’s socially acceptable to spend hours arguing about sports or reality TV shows that have zero real impact on any of our lives, but it’s a big no-no to talk about the debt ceiling or healthcare debate, or tax policy, or our wars – things that, unlike whether or not Lady Gaga has a penis, actually do matter.
The reason for me saying all of this is that yesterday I actually did call both of my senators (John Cornyn and Kay Bailey Hutchinson) and my representative (Dr. Michael Burgess) to “make my voice heard” on this debt ceiling debacle. When an online demagogue like myself does something like this, the first thing you realize is that ranting and raving like a hysterical lunatic will get you absolutely nowhere. When you have an actual person on the phone (much less face to face) and they are speaking to you intelligently and with courtesy about these issues that you may feel so passionately about, you realize that, like you, they are human beings just trying to do the best they can. Pardon the corniness. Granted, this doesn’t apply to everyone but I think it’s safe to say that it applies to most. When talking to Michael Burgesse’s aide, who was (thankfully) being bombarded by calls yesterday, it certainly applied to her. When you are used to communicating these issues through hyperbole and angry rhetoric, actual contact with a reasonable human being kind of deflates your balloon. And what you realize – or what I realized – is that articulating your thoughts respectfully and in real time, to someone who is treating you – despite your strong disagreement on the issues – with courtesy and kindness, is a very rewarding and challenging thing.
Being polite, sticking to facts, being specific, avoiding insults and inflammatory rhetoric, certainly feels more constructive than the ad-hominem, ball-kicking, hair-pulling internet brawls that have become the norm for many of us. But in our defense, because of the aforementioned strange cultural norm, the interwebs are the only outlet available to those of us who enjoy and see value in spirited debate and open political discourse.
Now I may very well be deluding myself. My call yesterday might have been utterly meaningless in the scheme of things. But I don’t see how it could have been any more meaningless than getting in juvenile(ish) pissing matches with complete strangers online. The online thing has its place and purpose and I won’t deny that. But in theory, this democratic republic of ours affords some actual say and power to us individual citizens, and that power is not being put to any kind of meaningful use by simply yelling at people we disagree with online. There is probably not a single one of us who does not want change in some form and directing all of our political energy to the blogosphere will not do much to affect that change. In real life, calling someone a teahadist or libtard will do nothing but guarantee that other people will immediately discount you as an unreasonable extremist. If you want change, you do not want to be discounted. If you want to be able to persuade or inform your fellow citizens, you cannot come off as a blowhard. There will always be the real-life blowhards and they will always be the laughingstocks of everyone else.
I’m not sure what the moral of the story is here. I do know that I had a conversation with someone yesterday who was near someone in power, and we were/are on opposite ends of the political divide. We talked in specifics, in a reasonable manner, and listened to one another receptively and at a bare minimum my views were registered and acknowledged. My “voice was heard”, for whatever that is worth. I’m as cynical as the next guy but that style of discourse sure felt more constructive than the anonymous, online variety.
I’m familiar enough with history to know that social progress and positive change has always started from the ground up, with seemingly inconsequential people like you and me. Maybe the internet has, among other things, served as a kind of trap where otherwise politically active people who give a shit get stuck, instead of taking an approach that might have an actual impact. Just a thought.
That’s not to say that it’s a completely negative or non-worthwhile hobby. To the contrary, if you hang out in the right online locales and tangle with enough well-informed, intelligent opponents, it can be quite the learning experience. But almost as a rule, it gets very nasty very fast and otherwise mature, reasonable adults end up in virtual shit-slinging fests that would (or should) be completely humiliating in a less anonymous, real world environment.
I’m all for debate and discussion. Indeed, it is a pity to me that discussing politics is considered such an impolite taboo. It’s one of the things that drives me to online discussion forums. In the real world we are so concerned about not offending our peers that we have conditioned ourselves to just not discuss these matters that really do affect all of us very deeply. It’s like we’ve admitted that we lack the capacity to have grown up discussions about grown up topics. This, in my view, is a serious mistake. Vigorous debate is healthy, necessary even. Especially in a democracy where, allegedly, peons like us actually have some control of our political fortunes. It’s okay that we have strong disagreements. That is actually the point of a democratic republic; to have a structured and civilized way to direct public policy in a manner that accounts for differing viewpoints and preferences. It is more than a little tragic that it’s socially acceptable to spend hours arguing about sports or reality TV shows that have zero real impact on any of our lives, but it’s a big no-no to talk about the debt ceiling or healthcare debate, or tax policy, or our wars – things that, unlike whether or not Lady Gaga has a penis, actually do matter.
The reason for me saying all of this is that yesterday I actually did call both of my senators (John Cornyn and Kay Bailey Hutchinson) and my representative (Dr. Michael Burgess) to “make my voice heard” on this debt ceiling debacle. When an online demagogue like myself does something like this, the first thing you realize is that ranting and raving like a hysterical lunatic will get you absolutely nowhere. When you have an actual person on the phone (much less face to face) and they are speaking to you intelligently and with courtesy about these issues that you may feel so passionately about, you realize that, like you, they are human beings just trying to do the best they can. Pardon the corniness. Granted, this doesn’t apply to everyone but I think it’s safe to say that it applies to most. When talking to Michael Burgesse’s aide, who was (thankfully) being bombarded by calls yesterday, it certainly applied to her. When you are used to communicating these issues through hyperbole and angry rhetoric, actual contact with a reasonable human being kind of deflates your balloon. And what you realize – or what I realized – is that articulating your thoughts respectfully and in real time, to someone who is treating you – despite your strong disagreement on the issues – with courtesy and kindness, is a very rewarding and challenging thing.
Being polite, sticking to facts, being specific, avoiding insults and inflammatory rhetoric, certainly feels more constructive than the ad-hominem, ball-kicking, hair-pulling internet brawls that have become the norm for many of us. But in our defense, because of the aforementioned strange cultural norm, the interwebs are the only outlet available to those of us who enjoy and see value in spirited debate and open political discourse.
Now I may very well be deluding myself. My call yesterday might have been utterly meaningless in the scheme of things. But I don’t see how it could have been any more meaningless than getting in juvenile(ish) pissing matches with complete strangers online. The online thing has its place and purpose and I won’t deny that. But in theory, this democratic republic of ours affords some actual say and power to us individual citizens, and that power is not being put to any kind of meaningful use by simply yelling at people we disagree with online. There is probably not a single one of us who does not want change in some form and directing all of our political energy to the blogosphere will not do much to affect that change. In real life, calling someone a teahadist or libtard will do nothing but guarantee that other people will immediately discount you as an unreasonable extremist. If you want change, you do not want to be discounted. If you want to be able to persuade or inform your fellow citizens, you cannot come off as a blowhard. There will always be the real-life blowhards and they will always be the laughingstocks of everyone else.
I’m not sure what the moral of the story is here. I do know that I had a conversation with someone yesterday who was near someone in power, and we were/are on opposite ends of the political divide. We talked in specifics, in a reasonable manner, and listened to one another receptively and at a bare minimum my views were registered and acknowledged. My “voice was heard”, for whatever that is worth. I’m as cynical as the next guy but that style of discourse sure felt more constructive than the anonymous, online variety.
I’m familiar enough with history to know that social progress and positive change has always started from the ground up, with seemingly inconsequential people like you and me. Maybe the internet has, among other things, served as a kind of trap where otherwise politically active people who give a shit get stuck, instead of taking an approach that might have an actual impact. Just a thought.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
The Mexican Fisherman
An American tourist was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked.
Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The tourist complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.
The Mexican replied, "Only a little while."
The tourist then asked, "Why didn't you stay out longer and catch more fish?"
The Mexican said, "With this I have more than enough to support my family's needs."
The tourist then asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?"
The Mexican fisherman said, "I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos, I have a full and busy life."
The tourist scoffed, " I can help you. You should spend more time fishing; and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat: With the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats. Eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would sell directly to the processor; eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing and distribution. You could leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then Los Angeles and eventually New York where you could run your ever-expanding enterprise."
The Mexican fisherman asked, "But, how long will this all take?"
The tourist replied, "15 to 20 years."
"But what then?" asked the Mexican.
The tourist laughed and said, "That's the best part. When the time is right you would sell your company stock to the public and become very rich, you would make millions."
"Millions?...Then what?"
The American said, "Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos."
I came across this a few weeks ago and have been meaning to put it here, for my own reference if nothing else. This story elegantly illustrates one of the fundamental problems of the collective American psyche – the over-emphasis of material and financial “success”. More is always better. As one person put it: We live to work, they work to live.
One of the great things about America is that each individual is free to determine their own personal values and choose how they want to live their life. What’s so interesting is how little variation there actually is when it comes to those values and lifestyle choices. Our cookie cutter idea of success is so pervasive that the entire culture seems to be built around the acquisition of stuff and money. We express our unique, rugged individuality by pursuing the exact same goals as everyone else and conspicuously consuming the same products.
It’s worth noting that a population willing to work ever longer hours, sacrifice their personal relationships, time with family, and opportunities to pursue other areas of human development chasing this pre-packaged ideal, works out very conveniently for the ultra-wealthy business owner and executive class. In short, people who can never have enough make for great employees. The carrot and stick approach is a fabulous way to get the most out of your human capital. Sadly, it can easily be observed that even when people do achieve this very narrowly defined version of success they are still just as discontent as before, often even more so. This myth about what is supposed to make us happy and what we are supposed to be is probably one of the greater ills of our time.
Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The tourist complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.
The Mexican replied, "Only a little while."
The tourist then asked, "Why didn't you stay out longer and catch more fish?"
The Mexican said, "With this I have more than enough to support my family's needs."
The tourist then asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?"
The Mexican fisherman said, "I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos, I have a full and busy life."
The tourist scoffed, " I can help you. You should spend more time fishing; and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat: With the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats. Eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would sell directly to the processor; eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing and distribution. You could leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then Los Angeles and eventually New York where you could run your ever-expanding enterprise."
The Mexican fisherman asked, "But, how long will this all take?"
The tourist replied, "15 to 20 years."
"But what then?" asked the Mexican.
The tourist laughed and said, "That's the best part. When the time is right you would sell your company stock to the public and become very rich, you would make millions."
"Millions?...Then what?"
The American said, "Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos."
I came across this a few weeks ago and have been meaning to put it here, for my own reference if nothing else. This story elegantly illustrates one of the fundamental problems of the collective American psyche – the over-emphasis of material and financial “success”. More is always better. As one person put it: We live to work, they work to live.
One of the great things about America is that each individual is free to determine their own personal values and choose how they want to live their life. What’s so interesting is how little variation there actually is when it comes to those values and lifestyle choices. Our cookie cutter idea of success is so pervasive that the entire culture seems to be built around the acquisition of stuff and money. We express our unique, rugged individuality by pursuing the exact same goals as everyone else and conspicuously consuming the same products.
It’s worth noting that a population willing to work ever longer hours, sacrifice their personal relationships, time with family, and opportunities to pursue other areas of human development chasing this pre-packaged ideal, works out very conveniently for the ultra-wealthy business owner and executive class. In short, people who can never have enough make for great employees. The carrot and stick approach is a fabulous way to get the most out of your human capital. Sadly, it can easily be observed that even when people do achieve this very narrowly defined version of success they are still just as discontent as before, often even more so. This myth about what is supposed to make us happy and what we are supposed to be is probably one of the greater ills of our time.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
My Top 5 Fiction Favorites
I recently finished reading two Charles Dickens novels and liked one of them so much that I thought to myself, “you know, this is easily in my top five favorite novels of all time”. That thought prompted the question of what exactly are my top five favorite works of fiction and the answer came so easily that it seemed significant enough to get on record. I like to do this sort of thing because it’s a given that preferences will change over time and it’s neat to look back years later and see what my tastes were at a particular phase of my life.
I’ve been an avid reader through most of my adult life but have always underestimated the value of fiction, being more concerned with history and fact and how the world works and why things are the way they are. You can go a long way towards that with non-fiction, assuming you do your homework and always try to get the background on the author’s motivation and agenda and what factors are involved with their particular point of view. Everyone is bullshitting you to some extent, just as you bullshit others and yourself to some degree. We can’t help it. But we can consider information that is presented to us with that in mind. The importance of this cannot be understated if you are truly interested in gaining an accurate view of the world.
But anyway…I’ve generally neglected fiction because I’ve been interested in learning about reality and practical things that I can apply in my own life. It’s only been over the last few years that I have ventured off into the wide, wonderful world of novels. And in doing so I’ve come to realize you can learn a tremendous amount from them also. Instead of facts and figures you learn about the human condition and the limitless scope of human creativity and imagination. Non-fiction can make you smart but fiction can make you wise. Personally I have come to value wisdom over intelligence.
So without any further ado here are my top five favorite fiction works (in order):
1. Jitterbug Perfume – Tom Robbins
2. Siddhartha – Herman Hesse
3. David Copperfield – Charles Dickens
4. Island – Aldous Huxley
5. The Lord Of The Rings Trilogy – J.R.R. Tolkien
This, of course, is subject to change and the number five was totally arbitrary.
Maybe next time I’ll do top ten.
I’ve been an avid reader through most of my adult life but have always underestimated the value of fiction, being more concerned with history and fact and how the world works and why things are the way they are. You can go a long way towards that with non-fiction, assuming you do your homework and always try to get the background on the author’s motivation and agenda and what factors are involved with their particular point of view. Everyone is bullshitting you to some extent, just as you bullshit others and yourself to some degree. We can’t help it. But we can consider information that is presented to us with that in mind. The importance of this cannot be understated if you are truly interested in gaining an accurate view of the world.
But anyway…I’ve generally neglected fiction because I’ve been interested in learning about reality and practical things that I can apply in my own life. It’s only been over the last few years that I have ventured off into the wide, wonderful world of novels. And in doing so I’ve come to realize you can learn a tremendous amount from them also. Instead of facts and figures you learn about the human condition and the limitless scope of human creativity and imagination. Non-fiction can make you smart but fiction can make you wise. Personally I have come to value wisdom over intelligence.
So without any further ado here are my top five favorite fiction works (in order):
1. Jitterbug Perfume – Tom Robbins
2. Siddhartha – Herman Hesse
3. David Copperfield – Charles Dickens
4. Island – Aldous Huxley
5. The Lord Of The Rings Trilogy – J.R.R. Tolkien
This, of course, is subject to change and the number five was totally arbitrary.
Maybe next time I’ll do top ten.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Global Mourning
I recently found myself in a discussion about global warming, which is something I will only do with individuals who are least nominally capable of grappling with objective reality. On topics such as this that limits my prospects considerably.
The conversation went through the typical motions and concluded with my associate making a statement along the lines of: The American people are hostile to government action that addresses global warming because they know it will increase their costs at the pump and quite frankly, many wouldn’t be able to afford it.
Prior to the above statement I had been expressing my amusement and semi-bewilderment that the majority of the public had been convinced to believe something contrary to the conclusions of legitimate and rigorous scientific findings.
My associate’s retort was a valid one and we both commented on how common it was for individuals to be selectively skeptical of medical findings that interfere with lifestyle habits they are strongly attached to, downplaying the risks of smoking, eating Big Macs, or whatever.
This is all well and good and I appreciate and agree with the point that was made, but my objection lies not so much with my fellow Americans being reluctant to pay higher gas prices, but rather with the fact that they have been convinced that there are no risks associated with that choice; that “global warming is a hoax” or that it is a hotly debated topic within the scientific community. My problem is with the multi-billion dollar public relations campaign being waged by the most powerful corporations on Earth to sow doubt and skepticism, and generally manipulate opinion in the same cynical fashion that had tobacco industry funded doctors publishing reports telling us that not only was smoking not bad for you, it actually had positive health benefits. The parallels between the “global warming is a hoax” and “smoking has no harmful health effects” campaigns are striking. Both are cases of incredibly powerful industries doing damage control when overwhelming evidence starts to show that their product is harming human beings.
That Americans want to protect their pocketbook against higher gas prices is understandable and they cannot be faulted for that. But allowing themselves to be manipulated on such a mass scale to be “skeptical” of conclusions reached by over 90% of the experts in that field, while gullibly swallowing propaganda fed to them by oil companies is pathologically stupid. It’s unforgiveable.
The media presents the debate as if there are somehow two equal opposing sides. That the assertions of corporate-owned right wing politicians and television pundits, along with a few oil company funded “studies”, are the equivalent of the overwhelming, worldwide, scientific consensus on the topic. Given that no entity on Earth – with the exception of Wal Mart – rakes in more revenue than the five major energy corporations, and that the advertising dollars from these companies is staggering, perhaps it’s at least explainable (though by no means acceptable) that the media so complicit in this mass ignorance.
It’s true that most Americans get their information about the outside world from watching television and don’t have the time to do in-depth research on all of the issues of the day. But this is a potentially tragic situation, and one that does not do the collective intellect of the American public justice.
I would submit that given the opportunity to make a truly informed decision between lower gas prices now and taking action to reduce the consequences that science tells us will result from not lowering our carbon emissions, the result would be different than what we are now seeing.
If the same discipline that brought us cell phones, modern medicine, and space travel is telling us that there are very real and likely catastrophic environmental costs associated with continuing to burn fossil fuels at the current pace, those costs should be reflected in the price at the pump. Otherwise the market, that Hallowed Deity, is grossly distorted. And if the public was more informed as to how our wars in the Middle East and the so called war on terror are directly related to oil, they would realize that those costs should also factor in to their price at the pump.
The truth is that gas prices in the US are artificially low and this is solely the result of the power wielded by the energy corporations. Yes, this gives the illusion of being easier on the pocketbooks of American consumers, but the true cost is eventually paid one way or another. That may take the form of trillion dollar wars that costs lives in addition to taxpayer dollars, or environmental catastrophes with costs that we may not yet be able to comprehend but would be psychotic not to consider. By the time we begin to understand those costs it will probably be too late, and future generations will look back on us a society of gullible, short-sighted dupes that were either too selfish or too stupid to confront reality and make the necessary but difficult changes that could have prevented such a tragic predicament.
The conversation went through the typical motions and concluded with my associate making a statement along the lines of: The American people are hostile to government action that addresses global warming because they know it will increase their costs at the pump and quite frankly, many wouldn’t be able to afford it.
Prior to the above statement I had been expressing my amusement and semi-bewilderment that the majority of the public had been convinced to believe something contrary to the conclusions of legitimate and rigorous scientific findings.
My associate’s retort was a valid one and we both commented on how common it was for individuals to be selectively skeptical of medical findings that interfere with lifestyle habits they are strongly attached to, downplaying the risks of smoking, eating Big Macs, or whatever.
This is all well and good and I appreciate and agree with the point that was made, but my objection lies not so much with my fellow Americans being reluctant to pay higher gas prices, but rather with the fact that they have been convinced that there are no risks associated with that choice; that “global warming is a hoax” or that it is a hotly debated topic within the scientific community. My problem is with the multi-billion dollar public relations campaign being waged by the most powerful corporations on Earth to sow doubt and skepticism, and generally manipulate opinion in the same cynical fashion that had tobacco industry funded doctors publishing reports telling us that not only was smoking not bad for you, it actually had positive health benefits. The parallels between the “global warming is a hoax” and “smoking has no harmful health effects” campaigns are striking. Both are cases of incredibly powerful industries doing damage control when overwhelming evidence starts to show that their product is harming human beings.
That Americans want to protect their pocketbook against higher gas prices is understandable and they cannot be faulted for that. But allowing themselves to be manipulated on such a mass scale to be “skeptical” of conclusions reached by over 90% of the experts in that field, while gullibly swallowing propaganda fed to them by oil companies is pathologically stupid. It’s unforgiveable.
The media presents the debate as if there are somehow two equal opposing sides. That the assertions of corporate-owned right wing politicians and television pundits, along with a few oil company funded “studies”, are the equivalent of the overwhelming, worldwide, scientific consensus on the topic. Given that no entity on Earth – with the exception of Wal Mart – rakes in more revenue than the five major energy corporations, and that the advertising dollars from these companies is staggering, perhaps it’s at least explainable (though by no means acceptable) that the media so complicit in this mass ignorance.
It’s true that most Americans get their information about the outside world from watching television and don’t have the time to do in-depth research on all of the issues of the day. But this is a potentially tragic situation, and one that does not do the collective intellect of the American public justice.
I would submit that given the opportunity to make a truly informed decision between lower gas prices now and taking action to reduce the consequences that science tells us will result from not lowering our carbon emissions, the result would be different than what we are now seeing.
If the same discipline that brought us cell phones, modern medicine, and space travel is telling us that there are very real and likely catastrophic environmental costs associated with continuing to burn fossil fuels at the current pace, those costs should be reflected in the price at the pump. Otherwise the market, that Hallowed Deity, is grossly distorted. And if the public was more informed as to how our wars in the Middle East and the so called war on terror are directly related to oil, they would realize that those costs should also factor in to their price at the pump.
The truth is that gas prices in the US are artificially low and this is solely the result of the power wielded by the energy corporations. Yes, this gives the illusion of being easier on the pocketbooks of American consumers, but the true cost is eventually paid one way or another. That may take the form of trillion dollar wars that costs lives in addition to taxpayer dollars, or environmental catastrophes with costs that we may not yet be able to comprehend but would be psychotic not to consider. By the time we begin to understand those costs it will probably be too late, and future generations will look back on us a society of gullible, short-sighted dupes that were either too selfish or too stupid to confront reality and make the necessary but difficult changes that could have prevented such a tragic predicament.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
On Reproduction
Why no kids?
It’s a question I have been asked so many times, a few of them with touching sincerity and genuine curiosity, and it’s one that I have never answered as earnestly as I should. In fact it is likely that I’ve never answered that question for myself in a comprehensive way; which, of itself provides a significant clue on the subject. To put it most honestly and simply, becoming a parent is something I just have never given that much thought to. And given the permanent, life changing implications and tremendous responsibility associated with child-rearing (what a weird phrase), I am of the mind that this is something one should feel passionately about if you’re going to go there. If it’s going to be a choice, which – let’s be honest – for many it isn’t/wasn’t, then it needs to be a well thought out and definitive choice. It needs to be something you want as much or more than anything else that earthly existence has to offer; something that stirs your soul. Something that you feel you cannot live without.
For me, it never was. If and when I thought about it at all it just seemed to be something I vaguely knew that I didn’t want to do. Like becoming a professional taxidermist or entering a hot dog eating contest, it’s never been one of those things that required a great deal of internal debate to know that it was not my cup of tea. Contrast that with the many, perhaps the majority, who feel the intense, in some cases almost desperate desire to produce offspring. It is my opinion that the child bearing is best left to the people who fall into that category. It reasonable to assume that they feel that way for a good reason, and I feel the way I do for a good reason, although the reason seems much less important for those of us who chose to abstain (from conception, that is).
Now. To go deeper into the issue it’s probably worth approaching the prospect of parenthood from the perspective of my view of life in general. For as long as I can remember I have felt an inner imperative to move through life as lightly and simply as possible. There have been decisions made that were not always congruent with this principle – who among us can truly say that they’ve lived up to their own values 100% of the time? – but for the most part, keeping the literal and metaphorical baggage to a minimum has been a consistent theme throughout my adult life. This is not something I feel compelled to justify to anyone anymore than I feel the need to explain my rationale for green being my favorite color. It is what it is. I had a seventh grade art teacher who gave the sage advice of K.I.S.S…Keep It Simple Stupid. Seeing as the act of living itself can be viewed as a form of art – perhaps the highest form – it made sense to me to apply this concept in the broadest context possible.
Raising kids in this current environment that we find ourselves in is, in my opinion, wholly incompatible with the K.I.S.S. philosophy, which brings up another significant factor in my decision to be a non-breeder – environment. Human beings are screwing up the planet. And the more of us there are, the more rapidly we wreck the natural world. I realize that at one point in our evolutionary history it made sense for us to reproduce at the highest possible levels. Indeed, it was key to our survival as a species. But at this phase of our evolutionary development I am of the opinion that the reverse is now true. That is, indiscriminate and mass reproduction now actually threatens survival of the species. Humankind, in all its arrogance and folly, now threatens its host planet. Resource wars, despite the bullshit explanations proffered up by the powers that be, are already commonplace. Humans kill each other over access to oil now and we will likely do so over water in the not so distant future. And knowledgeable sources and agencies are already predicting food shortages within the coming decades.
Not to be so heavy on the doom and gloom but ignoring problems will not make them go away and from my perspective these are reasonable things to take into account when considering making your own addition(s) to the Earth’s population.
Then there are environmental considerations of a different sort. What kind of a society/environment would I want to introduce my own children into? Frankly, not this one. There are many great things about America but it is not a place I would want to raise kids. With so much emphasis on competition, materialism, money, greed, consumption, image, and so on, it seems like our values are exactly backwards from the ones I would want to instill into any child that I brought into this world. And I’m afraid that despite my best efforts, it would be impossible for me to shelter my child from a culture that appears to have gone so horribly wrong somehow. The forces of hyperconsumption and reckless, self-serving ambition permeate almost every aspect of American culture and the onslaught of conditioning starts well before preschool.
There are also the metaphysical aspects of child-bearing. It is a hard truth, but life is suffering. Even for those of us who were blessed enough to be born into almost ideal circumstances, with an abundance of love and security, life is a difficult affair. It is also a beautiful, enriching, and rewarding one, and I do not mean to downplay the inherent good in human life, but nor will I deny the bad. And bringing a new life into that certain guaranteed amount of pain and suffering that is also inherent is something that generates significant resistance from my conscience. And as one of Aldous Huxley’s fictional characters in his book “Island” points out, any good Buddhist knows that childbirth is simply delayed assassination. Though I cannot rightfully claim to be a Buddhist, I am quite sympathetic to this sentiment.
Furthermore, simply providing for kids and a family in today’s world is no small or simple feat. From a purely financial standpoint the act of parenting appears daunting to me. Were I a parent, providing materially for my children would be the single most important part of my life. It would, of necessity, override any and all other considerations. By no means would this be an insurmountable situation but I cannot see how the majority of one’s time, energy, and efforts would not be primarily directed towards this end at the exclusion of all others. And when I take an honest assessment of myself, I cannot deny that I am someone who requires a certain amount of freedom and latitude. I need time to think, time to be, time to explore, room to make mistakes, a fair amount of solitude and quiet, and time to pursue things other than providing materially for myself or others. Notice I included ‘myself’ there. I already feel that too much of my time and energy goes into the pursuit of money. It is a fact of life, and one that I accept and have adapted to, but not one that I will willingly excaserbate.
All of this being said, I do not hold it against any of my peers - that being the majority - who feel differently. I do not feel contemptuous or superior to them. On the contrary, I am grateful for them. People have kids for a variety of reasons, some of which I do feel are ridiculous, but for those parents and kids who I am fortunate enough to have in my life, I am thankful. My young nieces and nephew give me feelings of delight and happiness that are uniquely wonderful, and – I might add – somewhat unexpected. (Who knew I loved little kids so much?) And I know whatever feelings of joy these little ones provide me is felt to an exponentially higher degree by their actual parents. I have no doubt that there is a level of satisfaction and fulfillment that can only be experienced and understood by parents, and I applaud them. And for the sacrifices and devotion and love that is given in such abundance by parents, I truly admire them. It is an enormous responsibility, and I am continually surprised and impressed by the skill and competency that I’ve observed in those close to me who find themselves tackling the various challenges associated with parenthood.
Also, I am a firm believer that things happen for a reason. If I were to find myself a parent I would know that it was meant to be and the resources and wherewithal necessary would appear in me, just as they have in those around me who have been thrust into parenthood. I’ve learned to never rule out any possibility. And woe unto him who ignores the admonition to ‘never say never’.
It’s a question I have been asked so many times, a few of them with touching sincerity and genuine curiosity, and it’s one that I have never answered as earnestly as I should. In fact it is likely that I’ve never answered that question for myself in a comprehensive way; which, of itself provides a significant clue on the subject. To put it most honestly and simply, becoming a parent is something I just have never given that much thought to. And given the permanent, life changing implications and tremendous responsibility associated with child-rearing (what a weird phrase), I am of the mind that this is something one should feel passionately about if you’re going to go there. If it’s going to be a choice, which – let’s be honest – for many it isn’t/wasn’t, then it needs to be a well thought out and definitive choice. It needs to be something you want as much or more than anything else that earthly existence has to offer; something that stirs your soul. Something that you feel you cannot live without.
For me, it never was. If and when I thought about it at all it just seemed to be something I vaguely knew that I didn’t want to do. Like becoming a professional taxidermist or entering a hot dog eating contest, it’s never been one of those things that required a great deal of internal debate to know that it was not my cup of tea. Contrast that with the many, perhaps the majority, who feel the intense, in some cases almost desperate desire to produce offspring. It is my opinion that the child bearing is best left to the people who fall into that category. It reasonable to assume that they feel that way for a good reason, and I feel the way I do for a good reason, although the reason seems much less important for those of us who chose to abstain (from conception, that is).
Now. To go deeper into the issue it’s probably worth approaching the prospect of parenthood from the perspective of my view of life in general. For as long as I can remember I have felt an inner imperative to move through life as lightly and simply as possible. There have been decisions made that were not always congruent with this principle – who among us can truly say that they’ve lived up to their own values 100% of the time? – but for the most part, keeping the literal and metaphorical baggage to a minimum has been a consistent theme throughout my adult life. This is not something I feel compelled to justify to anyone anymore than I feel the need to explain my rationale for green being my favorite color. It is what it is. I had a seventh grade art teacher who gave the sage advice of K.I.S.S…Keep It Simple Stupid. Seeing as the act of living itself can be viewed as a form of art – perhaps the highest form – it made sense to me to apply this concept in the broadest context possible.
Raising kids in this current environment that we find ourselves in is, in my opinion, wholly incompatible with the K.I.S.S. philosophy, which brings up another significant factor in my decision to be a non-breeder – environment. Human beings are screwing up the planet. And the more of us there are, the more rapidly we wreck the natural world. I realize that at one point in our evolutionary history it made sense for us to reproduce at the highest possible levels. Indeed, it was key to our survival as a species. But at this phase of our evolutionary development I am of the opinion that the reverse is now true. That is, indiscriminate and mass reproduction now actually threatens survival of the species. Humankind, in all its arrogance and folly, now threatens its host planet. Resource wars, despite the bullshit explanations proffered up by the powers that be, are already commonplace. Humans kill each other over access to oil now and we will likely do so over water in the not so distant future. And knowledgeable sources and agencies are already predicting food shortages within the coming decades.
Not to be so heavy on the doom and gloom but ignoring problems will not make them go away and from my perspective these are reasonable things to take into account when considering making your own addition(s) to the Earth’s population.
Then there are environmental considerations of a different sort. What kind of a society/environment would I want to introduce my own children into? Frankly, not this one. There are many great things about America but it is not a place I would want to raise kids. With so much emphasis on competition, materialism, money, greed, consumption, image, and so on, it seems like our values are exactly backwards from the ones I would want to instill into any child that I brought into this world. And I’m afraid that despite my best efforts, it would be impossible for me to shelter my child from a culture that appears to have gone so horribly wrong somehow. The forces of hyperconsumption and reckless, self-serving ambition permeate almost every aspect of American culture and the onslaught of conditioning starts well before preschool.
There are also the metaphysical aspects of child-bearing. It is a hard truth, but life is suffering. Even for those of us who were blessed enough to be born into almost ideal circumstances, with an abundance of love and security, life is a difficult affair. It is also a beautiful, enriching, and rewarding one, and I do not mean to downplay the inherent good in human life, but nor will I deny the bad. And bringing a new life into that certain guaranteed amount of pain and suffering that is also inherent is something that generates significant resistance from my conscience. And as one of Aldous Huxley’s fictional characters in his book “Island” points out, any good Buddhist knows that childbirth is simply delayed assassination. Though I cannot rightfully claim to be a Buddhist, I am quite sympathetic to this sentiment.
Furthermore, simply providing for kids and a family in today’s world is no small or simple feat. From a purely financial standpoint the act of parenting appears daunting to me. Were I a parent, providing materially for my children would be the single most important part of my life. It would, of necessity, override any and all other considerations. By no means would this be an insurmountable situation but I cannot see how the majority of one’s time, energy, and efforts would not be primarily directed towards this end at the exclusion of all others. And when I take an honest assessment of myself, I cannot deny that I am someone who requires a certain amount of freedom and latitude. I need time to think, time to be, time to explore, room to make mistakes, a fair amount of solitude and quiet, and time to pursue things other than providing materially for myself or others. Notice I included ‘myself’ there. I already feel that too much of my time and energy goes into the pursuit of money. It is a fact of life, and one that I accept and have adapted to, but not one that I will willingly excaserbate.
All of this being said, I do not hold it against any of my peers - that being the majority - who feel differently. I do not feel contemptuous or superior to them. On the contrary, I am grateful for them. People have kids for a variety of reasons, some of which I do feel are ridiculous, but for those parents and kids who I am fortunate enough to have in my life, I am thankful. My young nieces and nephew give me feelings of delight and happiness that are uniquely wonderful, and – I might add – somewhat unexpected. (Who knew I loved little kids so much?) And I know whatever feelings of joy these little ones provide me is felt to an exponentially higher degree by their actual parents. I have no doubt that there is a level of satisfaction and fulfillment that can only be experienced and understood by parents, and I applaud them. And for the sacrifices and devotion and love that is given in such abundance by parents, I truly admire them. It is an enormous responsibility, and I am continually surprised and impressed by the skill and competency that I’ve observed in those close to me who find themselves tackling the various challenges associated with parenthood.
Also, I am a firm believer that things happen for a reason. If I were to find myself a parent I would know that it was meant to be and the resources and wherewithal necessary would appear in me, just as they have in those around me who have been thrust into parenthood. I’ve learned to never rule out any possibility. And woe unto him who ignores the admonition to ‘never say never’.
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