Vacuum Cleaners and Tracy Morgan

I think that I have finally figured out why "we" are so neurotic! I have actually begun reading my subscription magazines, which is exciting, and I also started watching 30rock. Apparently I couldn't have begun doing both at a better time.

In the March 4th issue of Rolling Stone, Tracy Morgan says, "Life is a struggle. You don't want it if it's easy. It's like sharks. Natural fucking predators. They don't want to be fed." They want to hunt. Things are too easy for us. So, we create problems, we create drama, like the pre-modern world of the aristocracy--constant intrigue--except now the full range of economic classes get to experience this mental illness. The label doesn't create the disease, but it creates the drama.

The New Semester...

Let me just say--and I'm sure Janelle can attest to this--cooking and studying do not great bedfellows make. I just ate a piece of raw garlic that I thought was a piece of rice. 

(Let us never speak of it again.)

I think that in order to have a successful semester I am going to have to get myself one of those mail-order husbands. 

I hope I can pay on installments...

A Mere Quote

"It's life that matters--the process of discovering, the everlasting and perpetual process, not the discovery itself at all."

--Dostoevsky, from The Idiot

In Memorandum

It's Memorial Day. I think that people know that. It's an American holiday, and it's here to commemorate the men and women who have died in service of this country.

I would think that there are individuals enough in this country over the past 242 years (sorry if my calculations are a bit off) for there to be controversy over every single war (declared or not) that we've fought, but I feel that the subjective legitimacy of a war should not negate the loss of lives. They are all important and tragic losses. And sometimes the ones who have died are the lucky ones. Their families have to pick up the pieces, but the dead are able to rest. The survivors of war (if they can be so called) are the ones who have to pick up their own pieces, and their families are often-times at a loss of what to do with them.

Working for USAA has really brought this closer to home for me, because I work with the people who have come back and I work with their spouses. I don't often hear about fallen men and women from combat situations (because, of the hundreds of people I speak to a week, only about half of them are military, and many of them are so young that they haven't lived to see that kind of loss) but I do hear survivor stories, the ones where the wife says, "He just didn't come back the same. YOU know..." And though I haven't lost anyone in a war, I, sadly, do know. It's enough to break my heart. 

So, I thank all of the men and women, past and present, who have served our country's military. They may not always serve my present ideals--depending on what the war is about, and who is leading it--but they try to serve me to their best abilities, and I honor that.

Redirection

I'd like to begin a new post, and redirect the previous conversation away from all the insanity. I think that my original post greatly defected from what I was originally trying to say by quoting the song, and I'm surprised that so many people jumped on the insanity thing and passed right over the ideas at the beginning. I think that exploring what is at the center of our lives is much more important than exploring the definition of insanity, because what we place at the center could very well be the thing that drives us insane (or, more accurately, that takes us from what is important and, as my mother said, "makes us miserable."). Our center could also complete us and make us better human beings.

Then there’s the idea of absolute truth and faith in truth. This has always been something I’ve struggled with. For instance, we accept that what has been told to us about history is true, because books say that it is, people say that it is, but we could not know that unless we went out and researched ourselves through first-hand sources (which, on my part, would also include carbon dating), artifacts and, perhaps, accounts of those who were there. However, I have better things to do with my time, so I must take for granted that what I am being told is true.

Likewise, when I was a Christian, I accepted that what was in the Bible was truth because I was told it was truth. It took no faith on my part, however, to believe that the Bible itself was true, it took faith for me to believe that what my parents (half of them, anyhow) and Sunday school teachers were telling me was true. Once I realized that those people were fallible (oh so fallible), I lost my faith in people and had to put my faith elsewhere, which is, partly, where the breakdown came from. The other part came from dissenting opinions and beliefs from this subjective truth that I was offered. First, through my father, then from a respected college professor. I began to question all supposed truths that I had been taught. Some approximate truths, like history, I was forced to quit and accept, because I had neither the resources nor the time to explore those particular truths. I did, however, have ample time to explore my personal beliefs, which have ended up in a completely different place from where they began.

To clear something up, though, I do not have the same beliefs of my father, nor of that college professor. I have found my own path, my own truths, and I consider them, to quote Jefferson, to be self-evident, but I have no illusions that they could possibly be the truth of others. I am sure that there are some absolute truths (though what they are I couldn’t tell you), but truth, like everything else in the universe, is in constant flux as we grow as a species and as a universe. This means that things are changing. What was true yesterday might not be true today, and we are also constantly finding flaws in what we thought was true (which includes history, science, math, and a whole slew of other things). What I like about knowledge in comparison to faith is that it allows for a margin of error, of transformation. It allows the mind to be open to everything, closed to nothing. It establishes not truth, but possibility. That, rather than faith, is what gives me hope. It makes up my center.

Liontamer

"If you place a thing into the center of your life
That lacks the power to nourish
It will eventually poison everything that you are
And destroy you

A simple a thing as an idea
Or your perspective on yourself or the world
No one can be the source of your content,
It lies within, in the center."

                               --"Liontamer" by Faithless

I've been listening to this song for the last few weeks. The words are simple, and they seem like common sense, but, then, I still wonder what is at the center. 

Truth isn't exactly a knowable thing. It's not always concrete, and a lot of what we accept as truth takes a great deal of faith. Absolute truth takes faith. We have to take certain things for granted in life.

I was talking with my uncle today and I was teasing him with that line, "The definition of insanity is performing the same task over and over and expecting different results." It's really the last phrase is the kicker, right? Or is it? 

After all, we breathe, generally without cease. We sleep, wake up, go to work, shower, etc. We don't really expect anything different to come from these tasks, but we don't expect it always to be the same. Does that make life insane--even the most mundane life? It could also be insane to perform the same tasks over and over and expect nothing to change.

After reading what I could of Naked Lunch I began to wonder if the world wasn't just one big asylum with us as its residents. 

Wednesday Night with Vampires

Thought of the day: You can spread a disease, but you can't spread a cure...

Weather: the lamb that was supposed to come out of March must be pissed (which is understandable, because on Tuesday Janelle and I ate her brother).

So...Twilight. Yes, the very one that the country was mad about for so very long (still is?). The movie was all right. Much more to-the-point than the book, and since I only read about 50 pages into that verbal attrocity (my personal limit, though some books I will give 60 just out of habit), I can only assume that it followed a similar plotline to the book.

If I had been sixteen and still in love with vampires (though I still love the idea), I think that I could see the appeal. There is nothing more romantic in the world than the poison idea that you could possibly be everything to a man, that you could be what he has spent his whole very long life looking for, that he would give up everything for you. Not that men can't be dedicated husbands and boyfriends. This is not the argument that I make. My argument is about depth, frequency and also practicality. No, practicality has no place in romance, but that is precisely what can make romance so dangerous.

So, depth. From what I have seen, most men have missions in life, and most of the time those missions do not involve a woman unless she is unattainable. So, even the most dedicated lover could never have you on his thoughts 24/7, and while it is a very romantic notion, why would you want him to constantly think about you? It would be tiresome. Where would his ideas and passions lie? What could he contribute? After all, you already have yourself, so what would you need him for?

Frequency? Ok, beautiful man standing in my room watching me sleep. Again, romantic notion, in reality? STALKER! I think of that song by Sting, "Every move you make, every step you take, I'll be watching you." Holy crap! That's really not a very pleasant thought. And, as someone who has been stalked, it really does not matter how attractive the person is, it's scary. And if that person wants to eat you, literally, where is the draw, beyond the gothic, sexy notion of passionate vampire kisses? You'll be dead, and then what?

Another angle of frequency, though, is eternal love. Of course at sixteen you think you'll be in love forever with that broody, dreamy vampire (or guitar player), but that's a sixteen year old notion that most girls grow out of when they become women. Then there's the forever thing. Til Death do you Part. That's marriage. For most, that's 60 years. From what I've seen, that much time is a hell of a lot of work. Longer than that, you'd want to find another lover. Seriously. So why would you want to take on an eternal blood diet where you can't go into the sun without sparkling like one of Liz Taylor's diamonds?

That pretty much sums up practicality, too. 

It's probably a good thing that I watch these movies alone. I do watch shows and movies to be entertained, and I can suspend reality for the sake of enjoyment (I actually thought of the cure vs. disease thing because of a Dr. Who episode), but I have to already like something a lot to dump reality into some seedy rest home, even for a few hours.

That's all I'm saying.