Rhymin

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How do you do?

Illusions!

I don't disagree with most of my friends but I find it hard to believe that there is a pure, uncomplicated pearl of peace nestled within each of them, forcing its way to the surface when violence is celebrated. I understand the ideal of peace, the desire for human on human violence to end once and for all, and the anxiety over watching fellow Americans scream the initials of our country over and over at the report of Bin Laden's death. But, to me, it is precisely this visceral outpouring of emotion and joy that speaks volumes about human nature. I don't mean to say that humans are evil, but we are certainly violent. We have to be. We have had to be over the years to survive in a hostile world. I know the ideal is a preserved environment, free from human harm, humans tending to the Earth like mythical good shepherds, life expanding! But this isn't even remotely possible. We need to die. We need to kill. It's inevitable. I don't mean we need to be cruel, but we cannot live without killing. Life does not exist without death. We keep populating a planet, killing on a vaster scale than necessary to survive. Again, this isn't about STOPPING killing, it's about acknowledging that this is in fact what we are doing and what we have been doing for thousands of years. The sooner we can admit this, the sooner we can get on to some viable solutions.

As for the specific rejoicing over the death of Bin Laden, sure, it's disturbing. I was not out in a crowd chanting and I didn't want to be. But I did feel an odd sense of satisfaction. I did feel like something important happened. I have no illusions that this is any REAL progress but perhaps John Stewart is right in his notion that the face of evil transposed for many Americans on to all the faces of the Arab world is gone. There might be room for healing, room for peace. Maybe not. Who knows.

The thing that disturbs me about all this is the violence with which peace is invoked. Clearly not a physical violence but there is a knee jerk reaction to it all that is unsettling to me. The rush to declare oneself peaceful, to show the world "I AM NOT ONE OF THESE ASSHOLES CHEERING" to condemn it, to feel superior really. I know I know someone will argue that that's not the case but we have to use an opportunity like this to counter hate and promote peace. But it fails. I try to put myself in the shoes of the cheering masses and think about what I would think if I read these things or someone misquoted MLK, Jr. at me. And I would probably think, "NOT NOW YOU FUCKING HIPPIE BIN LADEN IS FUCKING DEAD!" And I kind of feel that way as someone ambivalent about the whole thing. I think it's nice that we have the ability to speak our minds on these issues and promote our causes and try to change the world, but I also try to think pragmatically about what will actually work to achieve that change. I think being the change, as Gandhi said, is nice, but it's not always effective. I think an honest assessment of what humans are capable of and what we're up against is necessary. Harboring illusions about the true possibility of peace is dangerous to the cause of peace.

I don't know. I just get frustrated. I've lost a little idealism, I suppose, but I still want the same things a lot of my friends want, as professed on Facebook. But context is important. True compassion for other people is not giving them the finger of peace when they are happy. Perhaps there are other ways to capitalize on an event such as this, work with the perhaps misguided joy of people in a different way. I'm not very good at this either, striking back at these sincere attempts at promoting peace by posting articles about the MLK, Jr. misquote and discussing a version of what I said here on Facebook but I don't really think that's changing anything much either.

And now someone will organize a rally and no one will care but some folks will feel good and that's ok too. We need our illusions.

An old stupid poem I found

If you are in a car
Know this
I didn't invent the car
And I didn't invent a damn thing
It's all already been said
Done and did again
I once read a quote
"The overabundance of truth cannot be consumed"
and
"All possible interpretations, even the most contradictory - all true"
so
The overwhelming truth is that it's all true
and we'll never know it all
so where does reality lie?
Or is reality just a lie?
All the cliches can't be wrong
We tell ourselves the truth
and so do they
and we're all just being honest
Brutally and sincerely
Compassionately
With every ton of our being
George Washington never told a lie
but that's a lie
just like the cherry tree
Cross my heart and hope to die
Scouts honor
My hand is on the bible
Nails chewed to the flesh
The whole truth and nothing but the truth
The world is on trial
And we're all wrongfully accused
Billions sent to the electric chair
Billions sizzling and scared
Seeking the forgiveness for a crime without a witness
That everyone saw
And everyone confessed
That they did this
Because the truth left no stone unturned
Because evey stone was simultaneously turned
And every stone was left unturned
And we all burned
were burned
and always will be burned
Or is it the opposite?
Can the truth reverse regret?
And are we all just the gods and godesses of our pets?
And the truth remains I'm now just rhyming where it fits
Can you find the truth
just by faking it?

Primer 2

At this moment 10% of my final paper for Rhetorical Places is complete. I have a guiding idea that I can use to fill in 20-25 pages but it's likely going to be sloppy. I have to manipulate my field notes, not in an unethical way, to be exemplars of the theory I am pushing. The challenge here is going to be using rhetorical sources from class. I am not going to overload it with sources. I don't think I need to. If I find out later that I do need to well then so be it. It's due tomorrow so fuck it.

Consumption consumption consumption.

Primer

Deep breaths and such. When it comes down to it, the amount of time I spend writing a paper (10 pages, that is) comes down to 2-5 hours depending on the complexity. Sure, there is reading and prep work involved but really it's not much actual writing time. And since I never edit before turning in, this means even less time. Which means, start fucking writing. This post here is my primer, reminding me that I have the ability to write more than 140 characters or the Facebook equivalent with links and videos. With the amount of time I wasted this weekend, I could have all three final papers done. But I didn't have the panic then. The panic that inspires haphazard, coffee fueled, sleep deprived sentences to form on the page. Most of the time I don't even know what I'm saying before it appears in front of me. There is some cognitive science that explains this but I don't remember where I read it. Anyway, in hindsight it usually turns out ok if not a little rough around the edges.

I just shifted in my seat and farted in the process. Did the people behind me hear? Who knows! Head phones in, shame averted.

So I am off to write about the problem of parrhesia in modern democracy and human affinity for Truth. OR some such nonsense.

There, that's like a page, right? No problem.

TELEVISION

Tonight I end the tyranny of unfinished seasons of lovable television shows. Tonight, I will begin to focus and not be left wondering, "What happens!?" Dexter season two is complete. I will not procure the next few seasons until the summer. Veronica Mars ends tonight. I swear I'm not addicted. Your mom is addicted. YOUR MOM.

Here it is...

Skate

Bought a new board. The deck is Null, a local skateboard company, with Venture trucks, Spitfire 92D 54mm wheels, and I actually don't remember what kind of bearings. It's an 8.25 width instead of the 7.75 that I used to ride. I've only ridden it about 1/6 of a mile but so far it is super smooth, smoother than I've ever ridden before, and I feel more balanced even on faster downhills. I'm looking forward to riding around more and getting back into skating in general. This has been a boring update.

Dogs dogs dogs

Boy my dogs are tired!

Scotch n me...

Are having a little get together. A reading party. Glenlivet on the rocks and a book on toxic tourism. And a sleeping cat curled up on the table basket. Quiet except for the buzzing of the fridge and dryer, the occasional bird chirping. Zombie dog is asleep in the couch, dreaming and silently emanating foul smells from her rotting mouth. All is well in the world.