Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Tinder, Airports, Street Fighter and The Clash

"Better to be thought a fool, than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt." -unknown

Yep. Yeppers. I'm not sure if I should abide by that aphorism, but.. yeah. Maybe I should.

But again, maybe I shouldn't. I'm thinking about Gina's xmas gift, and that saying is what came to mind. And the last post I made, saying that I really shouldn't go with this idea.

But again.. My mind flips back and forth rationalizing each possible outcome, and ultimately, I'm left at a cross-roads where I have to either.. (sighs) either develop faith in "life" / "God" or "myself" enough to leave her alone and go my own way. Or.. (sheesh) have faith and perseverance enough to think that I can win her back. Because I really want to. I really think she's worth trying for.

Torn between two worlds here. Do or do not, there is no try. /Yoda voice

Actually, there is the option of "trying" in among this mess. Trying to keep myself whole, calm, mindful, compassionate, respectful. And then following through with whatever naturally follows as a result.

If I decide to send her that package, then I'm going to have to put a bit of humor into the effort. I can't just write in a long pithy letter where I'm whining. No. I have to keep it light-hearted. Honest. Genuine.

Non-creepy.

And that's going to take a bit of doing. And by sending her this package, I'm kind of going to be absolving her of any responsibility in her breaking up with me the way she did. I'm going to unintentionally send out the message that it's okay, what she did. And that I'm willing to take responsibility for how it all went down with us.

Is that really what I want to be doing? It wasn't okay how she broke up the way she did. It's not okay to ignore my texts and emails and then be hostile towards me when I tried to re-establish the lines of communication between us.

It wasn't okay what she did. Leaving me dangling like this. Letting my imagination torture me, trying to figure out the how and why of it all, when she herself knows the answer, but won't tell me. Nor did she give me compassion and respect enough to properly be able to part ways with her.

I should be angry as all hell, but I'm not. I just need.. closure, I suppose.

I'm having a coffee right now, and I can't help but smile a little inside, thinking of that Alex Baldwin speech. "Coffee is for closers!"

(sighs) I'm such a dork.

I just discovered while cleaning, that I still have her tupperware in the back of my fridge. Undoubtedly covered with an alien life form over the peach cobbler she last made for me. I should dump the contents out and use the tupperware as the "reason" why I'm sending her the package.

So lame. But kind of funny, too. Exactly the approach I'm aiming for.

Should I go along with this idea.

(sighs x2)

I probably will. Just to get this all off my chest. Just so I know that I tried, and to let her know that I'm still willing to try and that months later, I'm still thinking of her.

But, I can't be dry and serious and mopey and whiny. I need to play this cool. I need to not profess my love to her, and instead, focus on making her laugh and express gratitude for the times we've shared.

That's it.

No hidden agendas.

Just make her feel good, express sincere gratitude for her having changed my outlook; and then leave her be.

Because, that's what she wants. And I don't think any amount of persuasion on my part is ever going to change her mind.

So.. make her laugh, express gratitude, tell her I miss her and.. that's it, I think. It's all I can do.

I can't in good conscience promise her anything. I can't tell her that I'm going to do this and that and I would be a fantastic boyfriend/husband/step-father when I don't know if I will be. Even though I'd really like to be.

So..

Yeah.

Parents are coming back from Cuba tonight, and I have about 15 minutes to decide if I should drive an hour to the airport to meet them. Eh. I've got nothing else going on here. Just finished watching a David Blaine special, and I'm pretty tired of the forums I've been lurking on. Same old stuff. Plus, this one guy that motivated me to finally create an account on ATS has snubbed my long message to him. So.. screw it. I don't need to participate in public discourse. I've already got all the tools and ideas I need to work with. Don't need to share or bounce them off anyone else.

But yeah, I'm pretty bored right now. A drive wouldn't hurt.

Hmm.

Boring day, really. The highlight of it involved my beating this highly-advanced Seth player in Street Fighter IV, which I haven't played for a few months, with my El Fuerte. Threw in some taunts too. Fun match.

It's pretty sad thats the highlight. But it is. I spent most of today doing a lot of reading on ATS and odds and ends such as sorting out laundry and getting the garbage put away for pick up tomorrow morning.

(yawns) not an exciting life. And Tinder is boring me. Well, the women on Tinder are boring me.


See for yourself why that is. Three separate messages from this girl for a grand total of FIVE words in that screenshot. The earlier part of the conversation isn't much different than what is shown above.

This is depressing, because of how common her type is. Boring, empty, superficial. Thoughtless, as you can see by her misspelling and lack of asking me questions or sharing more of herself and her views.

Just another boring, empty shell of a human being. I don't care if I meet her in person and she turns out to be the opposite of what I've judged her to be. I just don't find myself engaged or excited by these conversations enough to want to have my judgement revoked.

See, here's the thing about being a woman on these kind of places. They get hit on often, and HARD. So maybe they're really cynical at this point, and can only communicate in fragments because there are like 12 other messages they need to get into answering. I don't know, and I don't care because its still not a valid excuse. It's a symptom. A devolution that these women have allowed themselves. They act that way, because they know they can get away with it. They know there's always another guy around the next corner. In fact, there is probably six guys around the corner, with seventeen others around various other corners; so they'll never have to worry about not being able to meet anyone. Guys, being the desperate horny beasts that we are; are the ones feeding into the kind of entitled mindset these women are exhibiting. It doesn't matter how unattractive or boring they are. If they are halfway decent looking, expect a line to go around the block with guys from all ethnicities and ages trying to beat a path to their doorstep. Guys that think its all a numbers game, and that they can't afford to be selective. Especially when it comes to getting laid, which unfortunately, is the motivating factor in a lot of these interactions with women online. I've seen more than enough evidence to know this for a fact.

I can't really blame women like Syndi to have grown jaded and cynical and entitled. But, I can blame her for not having consideration and respect enough to give me more than these fragmentary responses to my messages. Especially since I've made the obvious effort to try and have a meaningful conversation, rather than "hey wanna fuk 2nite?" which is probably what she's most used to getting from guys online.

(sighs) whatever man. Tinder is fucked. I can't "search" for the type of woman I'm hoping for. Instead I have to constantly swipe my way from duck-lip picture to duck-lip picture, and deal with yet another blank or meaningless profile, or more photos of tattoos and serious-looking facial expressions with eyes that look haunted and defeated by it all.

Or another photo of a woman playing out their sex appeal by showing off serious cleavage. Or laying on a bed in a suggestive pose. And then being hypocritical by saying, "no hookups please!" when they are clearly pandering towards those that want sex.

They really ought to present themselves as the person they want to attract. And then be honest about themselves.

Want to find a good honest man who has values? Act like a good honest woman, and don't dress/present yourself as some kind of attention whore with your pursed lips and low-cut dresses or shots of you in a bikini. Don't complain about guys with shirtless photos, when you yourself aren't faring any better in the pictures you've selected to use. Like attracts like, or so they say.

Blah. I'm so tired of it. And I'm really hesitant about reactivating my okcupid profile. Just because part of me is scared that if I go on there, I'm going to see Gina's account reactivated, which is going to tell me that she is ready to start dating again. Even though she made it explicitly known to me that she wasn't ready to date as part of the reason for the breakup. I don't want to log on and suffer the possibility of her being hypocritical.

Because that's all I seem to bring out in people. Hypocrisy. And that is a pattern that has repeated itself enough times to have made me cynical and distrustful of women who say one thing, and do another.

(sighs)

Enough writing for today.

(looks at clock) flight arrives in Edmonton at midnight, and its now 11:20pm. Gotta make a decision fast.

Should I stay or should I go?

(guitar riff)

Monday, November 14, 2016

Infinite Redundancies

(sighs) I'm still thinking of her. Today, as I was waiting for pizza, I decided to go on Amazon and order a couple of Xmas gifts for my mom and stepdad. In my cart, there was already a few items there, with one of them being a Minecraft torch that lights up and can be mounted on the wall; another was this set of Pokemon decals that can be put up on the wall, as well.

Why did I have those two items in my cart? Because a short while ago, I was thinking of anonymously sending her a Christmas gift containing the torch and decals for her kids, and maybe something else for her as well.

But.. Man... I didn't want to pester her. I don't think sending this package is going to do me any good. It is just going to make me look crazy, and validate one of her possible reasons for breaking up with me.

I'm not crazy. I.. I am sick with wanting her. I'm constantly still thinking about her. The frequency varies, but she still comes in my mind every day. Just like tonight, when I opened that Amazon app.

Without really thinking it through, I hit the buy button and ended up purchasing the torch and decals.

I regretted it almost immediately once I realized that I would have to send it to her. And I don't want to.

I want her back. I need her back. But this isn't the way I'm going to achieve it. I can mail her those gifts anonymously, or I can take responsibility and include a note inside, telling her how I'm still feeling after all these months. Reminding her of what we once had, and letting her know again that I'm still in love. I still want to try my best to make it work with us.

And, I'm so stupid to think that sending her some gifts and a letter is going to work. It won't.

My mind is telling me right now, "hey, there's always a chance!" and I'm telling it to shut up. Yes, I know there is a chance. It might be an extremely low one, too. Why should I risk hoping for it? Why should I.. continue to allow myself to mope like this, and to still keep all of the things she's given me.

And her photos.. (sighs) .. I can't bring myself to delete them. I just can't.

And I can't help but look at them from time to time, either. And then its like my urgency is renewed, and I have to try and figure out a way to get her back.

And I can't think of anything. Everything I've tried, has failed already. And failed spectacularly hard.

If I wasn't so stupid, I'd have given up on her a long time ago. And again, if I wasn't so dumb; she might not have broken up with me, had I been able to keep from taking her for granted in our last month together.

And I wouldn't have acted out on our last night together, when she wouldn't have sex with me, and then later did.

But I was that stupid, and sending this package to her is just going to make me feel stupider when she ignores it. Or reports it to the police, thinking that I'm now unreasonably obsessed with her. Or maybe getting her mom to call me again.

Sending her this package would be a mistake, if I go through with it.

So I won't.

But God damn.. I would do anything.

And I realized, as I thought about this downstairs in my basement. Again sitting in the same chair, with the candle and listening to music while my laundry is getting done; I realized that a statement like, "I'll do anything" really does mean what it says. I'll have to do anything.

So what does that mean? It means I need to impress her from afar. And it also means I must have faith. I have had enough coincidences in my life to know that something fishy seems to happen when I least expect it. Someone eventually finds me, and I eventually learn an important lesson from that person.

There's a saying, that once the student is ready, the teacher will appear.

Gina was my best teacher yet. Lauren was my worst. And I've had a long string of teachers, many of them were terrible, but.. I always did learn something afterwards. About myself, or about women in general.

And I carry forward those experiences, and I am a better person for having survived them. A more capable person.

But knowing that, still doesn't make me feel any better. I'm still.. listless. Heartbroken.

So what options open up, when I ask myself what exactly would I do, in order to win her back?

Again, I said I would have to impress her from afar and have faith.

How can I impress her from afar?

Well.. one idea is to finish writing my darn book and getting it published.

Another idea.. Nope. That's it. That's the only idea I have left.

Now, I have to have faith that I can get my book finished and with how slow it has been going these past months; I'm not very optimistic about its chances. I hate to admit it, but it has been really slow progress. I know of an author (The Phantom) who would churn out a pulpy-detective novel every month. Then I know of other authors, who find time to write even while working a full-time job and raising a family.

How can they do it, and not me? What is stopping me from zooming ahead? It's National Novel Writing Month too. I should be inspired. I should at least be trying, even if I'm sitting at my laptop for an hour, not really being able to push through with it.

So, I don't know where to place my hopes right now. I feel defeated.. depleted.. and.. man, I miss the naive sort of optimism I had shortly after the break up. The kind that made me excited to get out of bed in the morning, and always finding new things to do each day and blog about.

I changed a lock today, finally got that done. Raked the leaves, too.

But I'm still not feeling the satisfaction of having done those things. Not as much as I once did.

Or maybe, I just need to build up momentum, and to keep myself from growing pessimistic.

Again.. I feel like thoughts of her, is whats holding me back. And that is such a catch-22 for me. Either I let her go, or I don't. If I want to find inspiration and motivation enough to finish my novel, I would have to NOT let her fade out of my mind. But if I do, I can move on. I can reactivate my dating profiles online. I can start rebuilding and replenishing myself. Get determined again.

But..

I'm getting old. It's tough finding kindling enough to spark my fire with. I've done it so many times, that each time I look for wood to throw onto the fire; I find less and less of it.

It feels like a weak flame burning inside of me. Not the fire it once was.

And I am my own worst enemy. I have to remember this. I have to actually BE who I most want to be, and not pretend or guess at it. I have to KNOW exactly who I am, embrace it and find courage enough to admit my vulnerabilities. Especially to those I would want to be in a relationship with.

Except.. phew.. It's such a tightrope act. I have to be eager, but not too eager. I have to be hopeful, but not too hopeful. I have to be masculine, but sensitive too. Funny, but down to earth. Shy, and outspoken. Passionate, but not horny.

It just goes on. I have to somehow circumvent all those "I should.." thoughts, and get to putting myself back into the moment, where I can look at those thoughts with an objective mind and find amusement in them. I need to know that those thoughts are expressions of insecurity, and that the best way to minimize their influence; is by living in the moment. Keeping myself aware. Watching my breath. Feeling everything flow around me. Speaking slowly, and thoughtfully and walking with purpose and finding contentment in living up to my responsibilities.

I just need to find happiness inside of myself first, before I can hope to share it with anyone else.

But.. Gina met me a few short weeks after Cassandra and I broke up. I was really down back then. I didn't have much optimistic, and yet still Gina came along.

With her paper flowers.

(sighs)

I think.. hmm. I really don't want to date online. I don't feel ready to activate my Okcupid profile, or to start paying for eHarmony again. I just.. would rather not deal with another person who I'm not attracted towards, that sends me "LOL" as a single response to some large paragraph I've written. Or has zero substance in themselves, and are cynical and jaded that they are practically undateable.

I can't handle more of the same thing I've experienced over the years.

I need to shake things up, somehow. But I have no idea where to start. I'm not the bar guy. I have no reason to go places in the city, especially since I have seen just about everything already.

I don't know how to meet new people if I go out into the world.

I don't like having to put my faith behind that idea.

(shrugs) I really don't know what to do right now. When those gifts arrive in my mail, I'm probably going to do the stupid thing and send it to her; or I'll drop it off at the thrift store here, and put a big smile on someone's face when they see those items for sale. And they will both be reasonably priced, knowing how generous the ladies are at Twice But Nice.

So, I guess I'll do that. Drop off those gifts and a bunch of other things from around the house that I no longer use. It's the holiday season and now is the perfect time for a single-parent to go shopping for something affordable that they can give their kids. Or a low-income household, whichever.

Yeah..

I think I'll have to say goodbye to her.

Fuck man...

Fuck.

Saturday, November 12, 2016

Wordsmithing, Academia and You

So I lurk on message boards and every once in a while, I come across a post that gets my mind whirring and filled with ideas and observations. I'd like to discuss the one I found today, as I learned quite a bit from it, even though most of what I learned, had very little to do with what the author was attempting to express.

From this thread here on Above Top Secret; a psychologist under the name of "Astrocyte" goes into a long rant on the subject of Gnosticism and sacred geometry with the intention of correlating these ideas with mental illness. Here is his/her post, with the title of the thread labelled, "The Delusion of Gnosis" (which actually means "wisdom").

Warning: heavy thinking ahead.

=====
posted on Oct, 24 2016 @ 04:00 PM   
"All the delusions of the gnostic mentality may be derived from this one, very ancient statement:

Let no one ignorant of geometry enter"

So, the legend goes, was what appeared above the front door of Plato's academy.

Understanding the delusion of gnosticism - and by gnosticism, I specifically refer to the belief that man is the creator, man is "alien", and man, in essence, is transpersonal - is very fundamentally about the dissociative significance of putting a speculative geometry above an embocied self-awareness.

I do not for one instant doubt that we have a cosmic meaning and a cosmic source - but I am a psychologist, and unlike the ancient gnostics, I have far more knowledge about the Human condition in my hands to work with - on human psychological illness, and most importantly, the nature, structure and evolution of the human nervous system - and so, unlike naive freemasons, I make use of modern science and philosophy, and, more importantly, am properly skeptical about the influence of secret societies as a powerful neurological-psychological biasing factor on Human interpretive mechanisms.

This last point is very, very important, yet the person caught up in the "allure of ancient knowledge", surrounded by others who render the process magical with profound ritualization and garb, do not realize that what they are being "initiated" into is not an objective-knowledge of reality, but a philosophy which receives its imprimatur and status from the way and manner the information is conveyed i.e. exploits Human affective processes.

So why is this belief a fallacy and a horrendous, ancient delusion - typically infecting the minds of the elite, the established and the advantaged - particularly those educated in western academies? Quite simply: math. No intellectual faculty more effectively speaks to mans egotism than the elevation of an abstract impersonal representational structure (numbers, shapes) over the actual processes which structure its existence. If demons exist, they are genius for exploiting math as a dissociative device - to get the Human disconnected from the sort of knowledge which keeps entropy - demons - at bay, and so, out of competition with more coherent understandings.

Yes, how obvious, yet how pernicious. The glorification of man - the individual - has everything to do with the dissociation of self-knowledge, and the subjugution of emotional and interpersonal understanding to an abstract, disembodied, literally alien way of looking at yourself, and even worse, at others. Elitism is very much related to the "mystification" of mathematics, inasmuch as it establishes within the individual a way-of-seeing that does not entail an analysis of flows or a recognition of inter-dependence.

The glorification of geometry, morphed itself into a spiritual system that became monstrously monological. Monologism is a way of seeing things which basically works by dissociating the inherently and fundamentally dialogical nature of reality. And dialogism, for Humans, is synonymous with a knowledge of feelings, needs, and attitudes.

In the west, Mary Shellys "frankenstein" should be read as an expression of Mary Shelly's psychology - the psychology of the elitist culture that carried within itself a horrendous cynicism - a creature created and responding to its own creations - morphing and changing as a function of a "structural drift" - or the 'shifting baseline syndrome' which keeps the Human being from recognizing how it keeps shifting in its understanding as a function of its shifting perceptual and cognitive conditions. Whenever I read a work of fiction or even science (such as Rene Thom) and certain negative themes emerge, particularly that of an intrinsic alienation to the Human condition, I know that the author is probably pursuing yet another gnostic allegory - an allegory fundamentally dependent upon the structuring process of cities, taxes, commerce, and the other experiences of living since the start of the agricultural "revolution" that presents the Human experience as "alien". Yet what is alien? The gnostic, instead of more logically attributing the sense of world-alienation to a set of ecological scaffolds that structure mind-brain functioning (this interpretation needed modern neuroscience, perhaps?) in its ontogenesis as an individual, instead mythologizes the Humans dysfunction as if it were essential: more so, they blame the God of Genesis - the relationally disposed deity of the Hebrew Bible - that is, they put themselves in opposition with expressed reality, as if the problem were "in reality", rather than the individual.

Is this not an obvious case of philosophical projection? It is. All around this schematization lies negative feelings of being with others - the Other is not trusted, and a cynicism seems there as the "core referent" for the indiviudals functionality. The person feels 'alienated' from others, and so, quite logically (within this closed system of referents, that is) he is prone to accept and internalize a philosophy of "blaming God", or, rather, positing a "God above God", and thus structuring into reality a dualism - as if reality weren't one, but in "competition", and the competition, more so, is that between man and God!

The solution? Well, math becomes a center of interest, and moral and ethical behavior - the very essential basis of Human consciousness - is swept aside as something only people who want "face", or "honor" do - as if this interpretation wasn't a rationalization of a selfish mind that is habituated to pursuing its own selfish interests.

So herein lies an interesting dilemma: your actions constitute the ground for your perceptions. Action and perception mutually "inform" the synthesis of your feeling body, and so, the feeling body is the only thing a Human needs to pay attention.

"Gnostics", or people who assume themselves to have some essential and fundamental knowledge, are nevertheless structurally determined in their functionality by species typical evolutionary attractors. This attractor is systemic: it is a "we" that is always above your I; in fact, your I receives its phenomenological quality from the "reaction" within the interpersonal encounter: just like any object in the natural world (an electron or molecule) converging objects (humans, in this case) 'work out' their asymmetric differences on route towards a 'relaxed correlation' in both ideas and concepts (common beliefs) but more essentially, through feeling.

Yet, the only way to get a hold and so shape these attractors - via orbitofrontal regulation of the amgdala - is to pay them mind: to, in other words, say a big "phuck you" to Plato, because the reality of the constraints of living and being and the conditions underlying human harmony and has absolutely nothing to do with numbers.

Indeed, any sane person should be afraid of another Human who has come to see numbers - or math - as more "real" than you - your feelings or your needs as a person. Math lends itself quite well to a machiavellian eugenic style characterization of all "mathematically illiterate" people as inferior - as if math itselfl wasn't 'bootstrapped' by the same interpersonal experiences of living.

In short, and as others have written before me, we ARE NOT GODS. Even more importantly, we derive our capacities FROM OTHERS, and so, must honor Others. "



=====

Wow, huh? I could see the rational of the argument being made, but I saw a few other things that I didn't expect.

First of all, notice the way Astrocyte types. Certain words have been needlessly shoehorned in, such as pernicious. Imprimatur. Schematization. Ontogenesis. Monologism. Monological. Even "ecological" doesn't seem to fit well enough inside of the context it was in, although I was able to comprehend it correctly enough.

Out of curiosity and my interest in learning new words, I checked what imprimatur meant. This is what google gave me,

im·pri·ma·tur
ˌimprəˈmätər,-ˈmātər
noun

an official license by the Roman Catholic Church to print an ecclesiastical or religious book.

a person's acceptance or guarantee that something is of a good standard.
"the original LP enjoyed the imprimatur of the composer"

Okay. Cool. I'll add this word to my WordWeb dictionary app so I that I might use it in the future sometime. 

Opening the app then gave me a different definition of the word,

"Formal and explicit approval" is what it said.

Followed by the example sentence, "a Democrat gets the union's imprimatur."

That pissed me off.

Here's another definition,

1a :  a license to print or publish especially by Roman Catholic episcopal authority
b :  approval of a publication under circumstances of official censorship
2a :  sanction, approval
b :  imprint
c :  a mark of approval or distinction

(sighs) So "imprimatur" is an ineffective word to express meaning by, because it has a flexible definition and can only serves to confuse whoever is reading. Why bother with it other than to sound like a pompous jackass?

One of my gripes when it comes to learning new things, are people refusing to use words that speak to the layperson and not using words that are appropriate to the context they are in. What purpose does "imprimatur" serve when "approval" is more readily understood and digested? 

Why stick that in there, if 99% of English speakers have no idea what it means or have a different understanding of how it's defined? There is no need to obfuscate (heh) and be obtuse (double heh) a point being investigated and made. It insults the philomath (triple heh) in all of us.

I like what Philip K Dick once said about this subject.

"The mentally disturbed do not employ the Principle of Scientific Parsimony: the most simple theory to explain a given set of facts. They shoot for the baroque."

So obviously, this was an "academic" posting. Not a revelation in of itself, but this is where the window gets opened up enough to see inside of the psyche of the person who is writing.

Don't get me wrong. I love it when an intelligent person goes on a rant and drops in words I've never heard of; but it became evident to me while I was reading, that using such words were an open form of reverse condescension. It was egotistical and arrogant. I know that if the autocorrect on my phone keeps confusing imprimatur with "impromptu" then there is cause for concern. The point being expressed, would not demand jargon to be used in order to facilitate an understanding between an author and his audience. 

So, right after I had this thought, I kept reading more for the mind writing, than for the information being presented. I found the author more interesting than the material because this is how many (most?) academics behave. They are egotistical, condescending, arrogant and ignorant of those who don't exist inside of the bubble they've surrounded and insulated themselves with.

I should know, I've spoken to psychologists before. Heck, I was in a relationship with one for almost six months. Dated another one a few months ago. Almost all academics and professional types I've encountered, seem to fall victim to feelings of superiority over others and develop a lack of self-awareness as a result. Whether they are "good" people or not, they seem to have problems with adopting a more tolerant and humbled perspective towards opinions and ideas that conflict their own. They develop a kind of smugness that I find unpleasant. More so about affirming the worth of their character than anything else.

My ex-girlfriend wrote a thesis in 2006 which I still have. It's titled, "Therapeutic Filmmaking" and it's about using filmmaking as a form of therapy for people suffering from depression and dissociative disorders. Nothing wrong with that idea, but check out this paragraph she wrote:

"Bridging the chasm between my heart and mind, the present thesis research allows me to traverse the expanse between film and psychology through the exploration of the therapeutic properties of filmmaking. Inspired by experience and passion, this research will create flight paths between distant interdisciplinary universes, reconnect the heart with the mind in the context of academic inquiry, and prove to be the groundwork for therapeutic filmmaking."

(groans) .. This paragraph by itself may not reveal much, but this is only a sample. The rest of her thesis is dotted with personal confessions like "my heart and mind" as well as plenty of moments where she places the idea of therapeutic filmmaking on such a high and golden pedestal that it becomes severely annoying to read about. Why did she write like this? Because this is a new form of "therapy", and she apparently came up with the idea for it herself. So she's understandably proud of her baby and wants to show it off, warts and all and demonstrate her intelligence in the process. Since intelligence is mostly the criteria academics go by when it comes to validating the worth of an argument -- big words; floaty, silky paragraphs dipped in honey dew and unconvincing rhetoric is the flavor they're most accustomed towards. 

But again, that is only one paragraph I've selected. Reading from start to finish makes my point more evident that most (of the ones I've conversed with) academics are full of themselves and will do whatever it takes for themselves to realize an accolade of some kind. This means using words like imprimatur and monological when there is no cause to, nor any universal agreement as to exactly what they express. Such words are exclusionary also, given that most of the population will have no idea what they even mean and furthering the divide between academia and laypersons.

And that manner of speaker comes from a place of arrogance. Tempered arrogance, but arrogance just the same. I'm pretty sure as imprimatur was being typed, that the person typing it knew there was a better word to be used, but chose not to use it. Why? Because rarely used words like that, give off the air of legitimacy as far as validating one's intelligence goes. To get a point across effectively, you can't be thumping your chest trying to impress and draw attention. You can't exclude most of the population by typing, "schematization" when "process" would be a better way of describing the same thing.

Now.. here is where I segue into Donald Trump, and why he got elected.

Don't worry. It's relevant.

Earlier today, my stepdad texted me from a resort in Cuba, where he and my mother are staying for a week. This is the conversation that resulted,

Chris: "Ola,how is the Fort Saskatchewan,very nice resort and weather in Santa Maria,Cuba,take care

Yes, there are no spaces after the commas for some reason.

"Ola" is the name of my aunt. I figured it was some kind of slip-up until I saw Fort Sask mentioned.

My reply,


Me: "My name is not Ola. It's cloudy and cool here. Glad you guys are having fun. Congratulations on Trump getting elected 😁 "

Chris: "Ola that's mean in Spanish,hello"

Me: "Its "hola" actually. What kind of Mexican are you? 😁"

Chris: "I made it easier for you"

And with that, I didn't bother writing back. It was a condescending reply. Typical negative condescension from my stepdad.

Then, I got a message from my mom,

"Sunshine love mama  here is nice  happy about Trump soon we be back love you mamsi"

They are both happy that Trump got elected. 

(groans)

Happy? Really? And then that got me thinking. What is it about Trump being elected is making my mom and stepdad happy? They don't even live in America. 

Thinking about this some more, I came across two possibilities that can apply only to them. Discarding the rest.

Possibility #1: They are like Michael Moore said, wanting a way to throw a molotov cocktail into the mess of what we call 'government' and politics in general. Voting for Trump is a way for the people to express their disgust with the establishment and politicians that have made a career by lying and cheating the public they pretend to serve, when it really is their own self-interest they are serving.

Possibility #2: They think banning/deporting Muslims is a good idea. And that Trump has his finger on the pulse of the American (and Canadian, it seems) people.

So... which possibility is it? Maybe its both? My mother has no idea what any of Trump's policies are. Even Trump has no idea what his policies are. She has no emotional investment in rebuilding the (American) economy, or to "Make America Great Again". So why is she "happy" that Trump won? It wasn't because of his "policies" or any of the promises that he made, because she is not concerned about a wall being built around Mexico, or that tax cuts are going to the wealthy.

So, why is my mom and stepdad happy?

I think I figured it out. Because Trump echos their concerns. Specifically about immigration, which has been a hot-button topic in their household. Both my stepdad and mother do not like Muslims. Or black people. Or Chinese.

In short, they're racist. Intolerant. And ignorant.

And.. then it kind of hit me that President Trump shares their point of view. And almost half of America as well.

Casting aside immigration for a second, I believe another compelling reason to be a Trump supporter comes from the fact that people like my mom and stepdad, are both tired of political correctness. They don't want trans-people to have their own washrooms or for a woman to go into the men's washroom because she "identifies" as male. They don't want gay marriage. They don't want to affix certain pronouns onto people that insist to be called a certain way. They don't want to feed into the left-wing delusion that resulted in upending the things that they value. Such as marriage being between a man and a woman. Or that the words, "In God We Trust" be taken out from American currency. A country founded upon Christian principles.

They're hardcore conservatives, really. And hardcore conservatism has been taking a beating lately in the past decade or so. Both in Canada, and in the States.

So.. they are the disgruntled. The ones that have to listen to rhetoric from people more "intelligent" than they are, and told that their conservative values are the wrong ones to have, and that society needs to be more progressive and inclusive and tolerant when they feel otherwise.

They are the blue-collar worker, who toils day in and day out to pay their taxes and earn their fair share, only to see a mass amount of people arrive and take unfair advantage of our welfare system. Supported by tax dollars, which then means further tax increases and further erosion of the quality of life that we all want to make better for ourselves. But finding it progressively harder and harder to do so as we get nickel and dimed for reasons we do not agree with.

Remember, my mother is only getting around $1,300 a month in pension. You can't live off of that, and yet many immigrants are collecting more than that amount, for free, because of the safety nets our society has structured. And immigrants know this, and take advantage of our charity in many different ways. Such as having more children and getting a child-tax benefit for each one.

So.. the reason why I segued into Trump, is to point out the fact that the "system" we have in place now as a result of elitism, is failing us. Academics and career politicians and any person that has elevated themselves to the point where they feel they can speak down to the average person and force them to comply a certain way with their views; is exactly why Trump was elected. The left-wing progressives are mainly more educated and liberal than the rest of us. They are the ones that think we should have female equality, when most people know that women have more rights than men do. Look at abortion for instance. How come only the woman gets to decide? What about custody battles? How come the woman comes out on top? Child support? Alimony? And lets disregard all that, and talk about wage-equality. Women in my profession make exactly the same amount per hour as I do, but they make less than the average annual income their male counterparts do. Why? Because they decline overtime. They take more time off to spend with their families or to do whatever they do. In short, women have different priorities than most men do. They value relationships while men value money, ambition, material things, achievement.

But the left-wing types are all trying to convince us that being progressive is the way to go. Yes, they do have their good and noble points. But they also fail to see the damage they're causing to principles and ideas that many of us still hold sacred. Whether or not these core values are the wrong ones to have, is simply a matter of speculation and opinion. Opinions are not truth until they are held by an overwhelming majority. Then it becomes "truth" even if its only a matter of perception.

With all that being said, it's no wonder both of them are happy that Trump got elected. They've had enough of being talked down to and lied towards and made to compromise their values because an entitled minority has gotten loud enough to mock them for it. And then make their lives more inconvenient and harder as a result.

Voting for Trump was really about sticking a monkey wrench into the cogs of the system that controls all of our lives.

And still, the left-wing has no idea as to why people voted the way that they did.

If my mom, with her being Canadian can overlook a guy grabbing women by the pussy, and all the scandals and shameful childish behavior that followed in Trump's wake; if she can overlook all these things, like half of America did; then you know there is a serious problem that needs to be addressed.

Academics. Experts. Career politicians. Political correctness. Liberalism. Socialism.

Your days are numbered because you are too wrapped up in your own little bubble that you can't see more than three feet in front of, to see how your rhetoric has been affecting the average person and how intolerant and contrary your preaching actually is.

It's so easy to grandstand when you are wealthy, and look down upon those of us who haven't had it as well as you did. I'm sure if I was able to afford the tuition, I would've gone for a PH D. myself in one field or another, and then possibly finding myself in the same position as these left-wing types. Having to defend my education and intelligence so as to justify the amount of time I've invested in a particular field of study. I would have to. Especially if I'm going to be needing a job afterwards. I'll need to convince people to give me a grant, or tenure, or pay me $200 an hour to listen to them talk about their eating disorder, sexually abused childhood, drinking problem, or whatever people go to see psychologists and therapists for. It's a business, really when you think about it. I'd do everything I could to ensure my success in it.

And this is the thing, money changes people. Had education been free, and had everyone been paid a fair wage for what they do (not $200 an hour); then there would be no conflict of interest between the therapist and the client. There would be no bullshit going around. No words like "imprimatur" being used for the sake of buffeting one's ego and credibility. There would be no need to resort to these kind of games. Just a genuine interest in wanting to help people and to discover new ways of helping them.

As it should be.

There is a reason why some people go to Cuba or Mexico for health-related issues. Not because its cheaper than if they got it at home, but because those places are more professional. More thoughtful and considerate of the people that are being treated. Cuba doesn't have an interest in pushing ineffective drugs onto people, that lobbyists have convinced doctors to endorse. They won't want to keep you a day longer in the hospital so that they can make a bit more money off of you. They won't charge hundreds of dollars for a test that someone doesn't really need performed, or to recommend expensive treatment options when cheaper more effective alternatives are available.

They aren't in it for the money. Or the accolades.

And that, I think is why Trump got elected. And that is why I am bothered by academics and highly-paid "professionals" who's arrogance has got us all into this mess.

Arrogance is a poison of the left-wing that has managed to invent more problems than it has been able to fix. Arrogance breeds intolerance, and condescension / entitlement / separation is the inevitable result of it. When you empower a certain group of people to act a certain way and to propagate a certain point of view that many do not share; you will find blowback. You will find resistance. And these people become the very thing thing that they claim not to be. Intolerant and ignorant, just like the rest of us.

Anyways.. long enough rant.

Got up at 630 this morning, and my suspicions were correct. I *did* wake up in a better mood today. I felt more "optimized" and attentive than I did yesterday. By a wide margin. Getting up early made a world of a difference without me realizing it until later. Yesterday I said I was feeling spiteful, hateful and today I didn't feel any of those. 

I made sure to stay away from video games, and I got out to visit the library to return an overdue book. No longer was I seeing this monotonous, boring and static version of the world like yesterday. I was now paying attention to my surroundings. Took in every detail from birds perching on top of a hotel roof as I waited in line at the drive-through at Tim's; to being able to focus more on the newspaper and even writing off a well-thought out email to a columnist in favor of Keystone XL getting built. I felt engaged and interested in the world around me. Content, even.

I enjoyed listening to music again.

So, it's very interesting to think that maybe getting up early deserves the sole credit for this reversal of mood. I can't think of any other explanation.

Had a weird dream later in the afternoon after a short nap. It was somewhat boring, but I managed to predict the "future" inside of my dream; and later on, the "vision" I had, came (somewhat) true. Kind of interesting. I don't remember ever having a dream where I've had a "vision" before that later came true as the dream progressed. Sort of a dream within a dream, kind of.

Another interesting about it, was that I had to pee immediately upon waking. In my dream, there was a quest to find a toilet and I woke up exactly at the time I started urinating into a plastic chair that appeared to be some kind of sitting bedpan for patients to use (the dream took place inside of a hospital and I had to ask an old lady permission to use it).

I wonder.. how much of that dream was really me, making it up? Having a full bladder might have altered the dream sequence, and I would accept the explanation that my imagination skewed it; but, I was dreaming about the bathroom very early on, and I don't think having a full bladder would create this kind of an elaborate fantasy/story. That is what I've always been intrigued by. How much of dreaming is really my imagination, and how much of dreaming might be something outside of my imagination and possibly created/influenced by other processes? Hmm. Who knows. I'm familiar with symbolism, but sometimes symbolism fails to explain certain things that happen.

Had three cops come to my door later in the evening, surprising the hell out of me thinking I was getting arrested for something, but they were nice. All three were ladies, and they asked if I had called 911, which threw me off, because I didn't and they had no reason to be at my doorstep asking. Kind of seemed a little shady, so I asked for details, and was told that someone in the area called 9/11 and they weren't able to find an exact address. Which is still strange, but okay. I rolled with it.

Hmm. Black Mirror yesterday. Great fucking episode I watched called, "San Junipero". It was the most romantic depiction of lesbian love that I have ever seen on screen. Perfectly casted. Thoughtfully produced (loved the detail put into the 80s theme) and the script was shockingly good, although par for the course as far as this series goes. I'm happy that there is still intelligent and thought-provoking science fiction being made. These sort of shows are important to have around, even if Black Mirror tends to lean onto the negative outcome of our possible future rather than to go the utopian route and finding solutions instead.

Well. Back I go.

My fingers are sore.

Friday, November 11, 2016

Melancholic Musings

Today, I feel like an idiot. Maybe that's because I am one.

(sighs) .. What else would you call someone who has been playing a video game for ten hours straight? Gears of War: Judgement on Outrun mode, where you play either as Locust or Cog. The Locust are a bunch of monsters while the Cog is made up of human characters.

Yeah.. Just like with Battlefront last week, I spent far too much time really doing nothing. A complete waste. And I know, that time wasted as long as it was enjoyed; is time well spent, but not in this case. Sure, in the moment I loved the twitchy-thrills those two games provide. Battlefront for its "pew-pew" amazing Star Wars sound design, and Gears just for the fun of being able to play as a monster and wreck havoc on the map.

In both games, I frequently get first place. Not really bragging about it, but thought I mention what my skill level is. Undoubtedly all those hours playing these games have at least made me really good at them.

And that, my imaginary reader, is nothing to be proud of. There are better things to be doing than to play video games all day. And at my age, after decades of playing them; I really should try cutting myself off them entirely. Because its not worth it. Yeah, its fun when you're playing, but at the end of a long marathon session like I had, I just felt like an idiot. "Look at where my time went", I'd think to myself, and it dawns on me that those hours spent playing could have been used elsewhere. For something more productive other than digital accolades which only other players in the game can appreciate Most of whom are likely guys in their early 20s; or teens.

What a waste of a day. I feel so guilty. And I feel so baffled as to why I've been lethargic ever since I was laid off. The last time I was laid off, was the week after Gina broke up with me and I guess that whirlwind of productivity I was experiencing, came from a desperate and sad place. It wasn't destined to last. No matter how much I wanted it to.

Felt like I slid down a slope, and I'm back to the way I was.

Negative. Cynical. Cold.

Not giving a shit about anything. Feeling hateful. Spiteful. And I can't understand why that is. I have theories, but thats all they are. Theories. I have several reasons to be feeling this way, but I can't seem to settle on just one. It feels like a number of things are weighing down on me that I'm.. wanting to not deal with right now.

Escapism. That is what happens when someone wants to experience something other than the apparent boredom and mediocrity that real life provides. And escapism.. well, it felt good for a while, but I have gone through these periods before and know that in the long-run, I'm going to regret having wasted my time like this.

But, I couldn't.. listen to music. It felt like bland noise that I didn't enjoy listening to. I couldn't read either, my eyes would travel over the words and none of them really painted a picture in my mind. I just kept skimming over to the interesting parts because I couldn't handle reading a mediocre paragraph in its entirety.

No music, no books. Tried listening to a podcast, but the host was being negative, so I tried another and that one was all small talk extended to three-plus hours. Had to turn it off before my brain turned to mush.

Didn't want to clean the house either, though I know I should. Didn't want to do laundry. Or change the lock on my front door that still has a broken key inside of it.

Didn't want to leave the house. Didn't want to rake the leaves outside.

I didn't want to do anything other than lay in bed.

But after doing that for a bit, I felt restless. So I went downstairs, fired up the Xbox with the intention of watching Netflix, failed at being able to pay attention to it; and decided to fire up Gears.

Ten hours later, here I am.

With nothing to show for it except for a couple of friend requests. Ho-Hum.

I did tinker with the last chapter of my novel for a short while, but eventually the boredom of it overwhelmed me.

Coffee and chocolates was all I had in that ten hour session of gaming. Two cups of Tim Hortons, two bite-size Kit-Kats, two bite-size Aeros (leftover Halloween candy). Nothing else.

And even now, I'm still not hungry.

I don't know why I'm posting about this, other than to acknowledge this particular state of mind I'm in. Bored. Restless. Needing to go somewhere or do something, but not knowing where or what.

Just.. lost, I suppose.

Tinder fizzled out for me today. I didn't get any messages. And the three girls I was texting with, had a serious problem with knowing how to keep a conversation going. I couldn't stomach having to be the only one wanting to text. I'm not going to beg for replies or strain myself to think of questions to ask them.

I know that women, especially good looking women; have this gross sense of entitlement on dating sites. They get hit on multiple times a day by all kinds of men. Short, fat, tall, skinny, jock, nerd, black, brown, white, red, wealthy, poor, in jail.. you name it. I've had the privilege of being able to look at some of the messages that these girls get. It's unbelievable how desperate most guys are.

I don't want to be one of them. Yes, I badly desire.. the love of my life. But.. I'm not going to.. I shouldn't have to play these dumb games. I don't want to be jumping through hoops.

Only a handful of women have been fun for me to text with, in the entire time I've been meeting people online. Most of them are the "lol" type, where they answer a question with a blunt answer and you have to scratch your head as to what to say next. It's like.. this never ending dead-end that you have to constantly maneuver around and prevent from happening. Eventually, the conversation gets boring and old and awkward and evident that the person I'm talking to either has no depth to them worth sharing; or they aren't really interested in me or the conversation. Even if they message first.

So.. I'm not going to bend over backwards for some stranger I've never met, who I've only seen a thumbnail picture of.

But still, that shit is depressing. Is this really the only way to meet women? Online?

I mean, I could walk up to some girl at the grocery store, hug a couple watermelons to my chest and ask her what she thinks of "these melons" and make her laugh. But fuck, man. How do I know they're single? How do I know I'm not being an annoying douche by interrupting?

I've seen a co-worker of mine do this sort of thing while we hung out at Value Village. He was brazenly flirting (aka making terrible jokes that he thought was funny) with anything that walked by that had a vagina. It was so embarrassing being next to him and watching how he behaved.

I don't want to be like Ben. I'm not going to approach random women and make them feel like I want something.

I want natural encounters. Organic ones. I don't want to feel like I'm having a conversation because I hope to score a date out of it. I want to have a conversation that is fun. With no strings attached. And yet, if its a pretty girl I'm talking to, I'm still not going to ask her if she's single. I refuse to let her think that the purpose of the conversation was so that I could find myself a girlfriend. Or to get into her pants.

I'm just not like that. I get...

(sighs) look at me going off on a tangent again. I'm getting predictable. Sometimes I wonder what the purpose of even writing all this is. Therapy? Probably. But just how constructive is all this? What am I actually gaining? Insight? hmm. I guess.

Well.. Just one of those days. Another day without her.

Another day of wondering if I should just give up and let her fade away.

Another day of feeling like an idiot. Not knowing what I should be doing with myself.

Another day.

Another ho-hum post.

Thursday, November 10, 2016

Just When I Thought I Was Out, They Pull Me Back In

Yeah, so this thing here,


Is a floor, ladies and gentlemen. Specifically, a carpeted floor that I've taken a bad photo of.

Reason being, is because I can still see the coffee stains from when Carolyn knocked over my cup one evening, looking up at me with a horrified face.

I shrugged it off. Never really cleaned it properly, and I only just noticed it tonight as I tossed and turned listening to music and enjoying the laser show.

One of the greatest pleasures in life, is having a good breakfast. It's even better if it's at A&W and you're the youngest person in there, and everyone else is over 65. Feels good, man. I'm about ready for to bring in a cane and to grow out my ear hairs so I can join these old guys at the table and complain about the state of the world while sipping away on a delicious cup of Van Houtte coffee. I've only got around 20 more years to go before I'll be able to do that with them. Let's hope I make it that far.

Tinder is about the most exciting thing going on with me right now, and that's not saying much. So far it's been ten days since I've gotten laid off; and I can't say I'm proud about anything I've accomplished since then. I just haven't done very much. Want to know the depressing highlight of my evening? It was when I re-arranged the Philips Hue lightstrip behind my bed, so that it looks better than it did before.

That's it. Pretty sad, really.

Posting on my blog regularly, but I'm not finding the desire to work on my novel for some reason. I still have it left off in the middle of a chapter from the last time I tried writing it, only to have to go to work. I hate it when life gets in the way of my creative impulses, and it bothers me just as much to not get any creative ideas or inspirations when I'm off work and free from stress.

That's not entirely accurate though. I may be unemployed, but there are still stresses. The stress of uncertainty, for one. The stress of wanting to work on my story, but not feeling wound up enough to do it. Sure, I did pick at what I last wrote and made some minor improvements/corrections; but it's nothing what I would call "productive". Hardly even half of a baby step taken towards my goal of getting it done.

So, yeah. Tinder is the most exciting thing going on right now. I can't believe how many women are on there. I also can't believe how many undesirable women are on there. Lots of duck lips, cleavage shots and girls that have that net-speak thing going where they use a lot of emoji and LOLs instead of showing depth or character. It kind of sucks, really. Lots of entitled chicks, who probably have gotten laid more times this year than I have in my entire life, so they're quite okay with having blank profiles and being extremely selective with the men they talk to.

But despite all that, there's been a few interesting women that I've struck a conversation with. Unfortunately, those interesting girls seem to expect me to do all the heavy lifting and I find myself growing tired of having to make the conversation into an interrogation by asking them questions, rather than getting into a meaningful exchange of opinions/ideas/sentiments/etc. It's like a big paragraph of mine gets met with an LOL and I have to scratch my head and wonder what question to ask next. Sometimes I don't even bother, and just fire off some sort of statement that I know the girl won't respond towards because she has no real opinion to offer.

I hate to sound cynical, but this is real life. These are real people supposedly looking for a relationship.

Looking back, I remember how Carolyn and I messaged each other. She was so emotionally generous and forthcoming that conversation was a breeze between the two of us. I wrote big paragraphs and asked questions; she wrote big paragraphs and answered questions while asking me some. It was perfect. I really wish there were more people like her out there.

But, there doesn't seem to be. Her kind of personality is a bona fide rarity about as elusive as seeing a Yeti in the frozen food aisle at Sobeys. One in a million.

Again, nothing I can do about her. And although thoughts of her has faded in the past while, last night she crept back into my mind again. I had a couple of "oh God" moments; where I couldn't believe I'm no longer with her, but I had to remind myself that I'm not. I really can't text her like I used to. Like I want to. I still look at the clock and imagine that she finished putting the kids to bed, and is laying in bed herself. Watching a movie or something.

I really wonder if she's doing okay. She probably is, but a part of me doesn't want to imagine her in any distress that I may have inadvertently caused her. Another part of me is saying that she likely doesn't care about me at all anymore, and doesn't think of me, so why should I bother entertaining any thoughts of her?

I don't know man. Maybe its because I've met so many different women, that I know a treasure when I see one, and she doesn't. She might not actually know how one-of-a-kind I actually am. And I mean that in a good way, of course. Deep down I like who I am, but.. it can be tough bringing out the best parts of myself sometimes. I wish she could've been more patient and understanding.

Well.. I couldn't sleep last night, so I went for breakfast, read the paper, and came back home to swipe around in Tinder and reply to a message. Now I'm on the laptop typing all this up, not knowing if I should try going back to sleep, or stay up the rest of the day and hope to reset my sleep cycle back to some semblance of normalcy.

One thing I noticed about getting up early, is that I feel more energetic when the sun is rising. There's a correlation between dawn and my moods, that I should try and sync myself with. I've long thought myself to be a night owl, but maybe forcing myself up at 6am would be better overall for my well-being. I don't know. I'm still stuck in night-shift mode and feeling apathetic. Haven't done much cleaning either. Just binging on Netflix, surfing the net and reading one of the four books I have laying around.

I'm really interested in checking out Hacksaw Ridge this weekend. The latest from Mel Gibson. I loved Braveheart and Apocalypto and although I hated the Passion of the Christ (Jesus Christ Death Porn), I could still appreciate the detail and spirit Mel put into that film. And from what I've been hearing about Hacksaw Ridge; I'm expecting that magic touch of his to touch me in all of the right places. He's a prime example of the Steve Jobs effect. This supposedly deranged/racist guy who allegedly abused his wife; is a guy capable of making great movies. Just like Jobs and the iPhone. Mel is a man of vision, and regardless of his character, I'll always be appreciative of his eye for detail and obvious passion for filmmaking. Much respect for him and I'll always look forward to whatever he comes out with.

Anyways.. Anyways, anyways.

Let's hope she shows up soon.

Whoever she is.

I've been waiting long enough.

And I'm tired.

Wednesday, November 09, 2016

Strange Times

Wow, what a night. What a weird fucking night this was. It was up and down and hard to take my eyes off the alternate reality I was experiencing; but its finally all over with. After more than a year of hearing people talking about it. A truly historic and magical moment in history had left behind its mark.

I'm talking about my viewing tonight of the new Doctor Strange film, of course.


It was the best Marvel film I've seen in ages. Guardians of the Galaxy was pretty good, but it wasn't Doctor Strange. It didn't have buildings warping in on themselves like Inception on LSD.

Normally I loathe computer graphic special effects. It just doesn't look convincing most of the time. Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is a good example of how wonky these CG apes look like, with that ever so slightly skewed physics that makes them move around all jerky-ish. Good CG from what I've seen, should be complementary to the movie itself. It should never BE the movie, unless you make the entire film CG, in which case it will succeed in making itself into an immersive experience for viewers like myself.

You can't just shoehorn CG effects into a film and make people like me believe it. I want to watch a movie, not a half-live action half-cartoon. I want practical effects, and if any CG is used, I'd want it to be used with subtlety. No obviously fake explosions, no fake flying debris, and definitely no fake blood splatter. No CG characters either, like Gollum. I don't care if his effects won an award. I mean, big props to Andy Serkis for pulling off how he did Gollum, but I still don't see it as a real creature. Skin looks fake. Movement is fake. It all feels off-kilter, like some unnatural element introduced into a natural environment and by result, sticks out like a sore thumb to me.

Except for Doctor Strange, the CG in it was exactly what they should be. Magic. You can't really use practical effects to depict what magic looks like on screen, unless you're okay with having silver confetti shooting out of a black wand with a white tip. Because that's pretty much it for practical effects. Maybe some smoke? Still wouldn't be able to bring the idea of magic to life in a way that is believable.

So, it's a good thing Marvel doubled-down on the magic effects in this movie. Well done for the most part, save for a few wonky looking moments where characters jump around in that fake CG sort of way. But I was able to look past most of that given everything else I was experiencing.

And Benedict Cucumberpatch was pretty darn great in the role of Strange. As a comic book geek who has read a few Strange comics in my time; I thought Benedict was an excellent choice, even if I thought he could have been a bit more rugged/grizzled as far as his facial features go. But, hey, he did a fantastic job and I can't really nitpick the performance he put out.

Tilda Swinton however, was okay. She's Strange's mentor in the film, and she's bald. Which I guess lends itself well to the esoteric mood the movie was catering towards. Still, though. I would've liked it had Marvel stuck with the original idea of having a mysterious old Tibetan dude in that role, as he was in the comics; but they wanted to pander to the Chinese, so they had to ensure this film wouldn't ruffle any of China's feathers. Which is unfortunate to see such a compromise being made, given that this film could probably turn a profit without ever needing to play in the Asian market.

Anyways, my favorite scene was where the sentient red cape develops an affinity for Strange and attaches itself to him. Loved that shit. Rachel McAdams also had my second favorite part, where she gets startled by a falling mop and bucket. I actually lol'd out loud.

Only three people in my theatre too, which was almost as strange as Strange was. I sat in the fourth row from the front so I wouldn't see the back of anyones head, and it was glorious. Felt like I had the place to myself. Only six bucks for the ticket too, even if the seats were uncomfortable as hell. Good thing they helped remind me to keep my back straight instead of slouching like I normally do. Darned things didn't even recline.

I'm definitely on board with the idea of a sequel. Bring it on Marvel. Love the acid-tripping visuals. With "magic" in the Marvel universe, Doctor Strange is a great vehicle to throw all sorts of creative ideas onto the screen. Hopefully they won't be rehashing it all by turning the next film into Inception 2.0.

Now, onto more important matters.



Donald Trump is now the President of the Unites States of America.

Heh.

Nobody saw that coming. I was glued to the TV watching the coverage from 7pm to around 9:15 before I had to leave to go watch Strange. Couldn't.. take it anymore, I guess. And when I got back, Hilary bailed on her speech making me go, "whaaaat?" and then Trump actually gave a decent speech and, uh...

Well, he won. The polls were wrong. Just like I told Gyngie they might be, especially after what happened with Brexit and even here in Alberta, with the NDP kicking everyone's ass in the last election we had.

That's my only "told you so" moment. That I knew polling was unreliable and I never knew which way it would all go.

I also didn't really have a preference for either candidate. I mean Hilary is another dynasty-era old-stooge politician but with a dress; and Trump is this madman who is going to be grabbing a lot of pussy, now that he's in the office.

If I absolutely had to vote, it would've been Hilary. Just because she seemed to be surrounded by very smart people and also have had way more experience being in office than Trump ever did.

But, that's no endorsement for her either.

Maybe America should be raising the middle-finger to the establishment. To politics, in general, and letting their discontent be made known. I understand the talking points of both parties. I know what the sentiment is behind the idea of building a wall around Mexico, and deporting Muslims. I understand and accept both sides of the story.

In any case, either candidate would've pissed a lot of people off had they been elected. Can't really win either way. May as well vote for the absurd one, and see if that will make any difference to American politics as it goes forward. Maybe there's a lesson to be learned here.

Or maybe, this election is a reflection of America's worth, and what it has become.

Maybe it has become absurd, in a non-ironic way. Maybe the majority of Americans really are ignorant and can only embrace spectacle over substance. I mean, the cultural output of Hollywood films in the past decade, is proof that spectacle equals a lot of money at the box office. If a movie has a good story to it, then that's really secondary to how good the marketing is and how dazzling the special effects are.

And then Instagram chicks who have millions of followers, and all they post are pictures of their ass. Or all the social justice warrior types, who don't realize that immigration of just one type of individual; is kind of harmful to diversity. And on that subject, trying to put "diversity" into all of the crap Hollywood blockbusters that were obviously written and developed by committee, rather than allowing a director and the writers to create something that doesn't need to have an agenda attached to it.

I could go on and on with these examples, but there's no point. Americans want spectacle over substance. They love the Kardashians. They love Kanye, and think he's a genius. Or Lil' Wayne. Or.. man.. I can just go on...

I lost faith when Americans elected in Bush, and lost more faith when he won his second term. Gained some with Obama, but lost it when he lied about mass surveillance. 

So this hasn't affected me much. I'm really not surprised. 

Maybe America deserves Trump, and maybe it doesn't. It's too early to tell.

Maybe Trump is in Putin's pocket, and maybe that might even be a good thing.

Maybe the election was rigged, as it was back when this clown here won Florida under suspicious circumstances along with obviously rigged DieBold election machines.


Won not one, but two of the primaries. Yeah. I already know what its like to witness a genuine evil that  has been given ultimate power. Even as a Canadian, I'm still dealing with the aftershocks of how he handled 9/11 and possibly had a hand in orchestrating it (along with Cheney and others). But that's a post for another time.

Maybe we'll be seeing the same thing as Bush again, but maybe we won't. We can only wait and see.

Either way, we will never known which of the two candidates would have done a better job. Not unless each of them were actually doing the job, so we could appraise their performance afterwards.

So, whatever. He's the next president. Let's hope nothing bad happens under his watch.

Something I reminded Gyngie about before, other than unreliable polling; is that it doesn't really matter who is elected president. They read off of teleprompters. They go by what the think-tanks and policy advisors tell them. They really don't have as much power as people think they do. They're puppets. Automations. They do what they're told.

Well, most do. Until they see that footage of the grassy knoll from another angle that nobody else has seen before and told to comply with the script they've been given by nefarious characters who wield more power than any president that has ever lived.

(sighs) I'm talking about the NSA, CIA, FBI,  of course. Those institutions have existed through every presidency. Thanks to Bush, you can now toss the Department of Homeland Security into the mix as well. Don't even need to mention the lobbyists, either, but I will.

I don't know what to think about a Trump presidency. It's so weird. But it would be weird with Clinton too. America is fucked either way, I think. But at least with Trump, Americans are sending the message that they are tired of corrupt politicians and career criminals being able to hold office.

Trump may have evaded paying taxes, but at least he's not a politician.

(double sighs)

I see both points of view, and I still think Clinton would've been the better choice; but maybe she wouldn't have been. I don't know that, and nobody else does either. Maybe America needs to shake things up a bit, but the only question is, how much will it be shaking up? And will it shake itself in the right direction?

Repealing Obamacare, and overturning Roe vs Wade sure doesn't sound like the right direction to me, I'm sad to admit. Universal health care is something everyone should be entitled towards. So is abortion, even if I do have a few caveats; such as making it illegal to abort anytime past the first trimester. Thats around where consciousness comes in, and it becomes murder to kill off an unborn soul. Atheists obviously would have a problem with that sort of thinking, but I feel it do be a reasonable compromise.

So maybe, it's better to just overturn Roe vs Wade. I don't know. Maybe it will promote better sex education and more awareness of the importance of using contraceptives while having sex. I mean, there are some pretty good contraceptives on the market right now that all women and men should be educated about. And now, with the internet and savvy parents; its more likely that a young people will know about contraceptives and the importance of waiting to be ready, before they make the choice to become a parent.

Hmph. Who knows what'll happen. I was shocked that Trump gave a humble speech, but I still don't like the guy. Don't like how Hilary refused to concede at the podium either, although if I was in her shoes, I would've probably been raising my middle finger to America just like Bush did in that gif up there.

The meltdown on NeoGaf was something to behold. Nobody could believe this happened the way it did. Trump didn't just win, he dominated. It was a landslide victory. People will be talking about 11/9 decades from now. It's going to be in the history books.

A reality TV show star and a failed businessman with a bad toupee who grabs women by the pussy, was able to become the next president of the United States.

No political experience required. Just make yourself into a household name, and the key to the White House is yours. America has spoken. /Jeff Probst voice

Kinda depressing when you think about what type of message that sends to America's youth. Who the hell would want to involve themselves in politics after seeing this shit show? Who would want to pull a Bernie Sanders on the American people, if a pussy-grabber and possible child-rapist can be elected to the highest political position in the world? What good are "words" and passion, if the psychopath you're running against has been in the public eye for much longer than you have, and is a recognizable personality on television? It doesn't matter how intelligent you are. Or how ambitious and passionate and sincere you present yourself as; you're still not going to get anywhere, when clowns like Trump are in direct competition with your idealism. No matter how desperately you'd want to fix things.

A caricature got elected to office today. A semblance of a human being with little intelligence or self-awareness. Just a master manipulator. A living spectacle. A morally-abhorent and spiteful person. A joke.

Where's Roosevelt? Washington? Kennedy? Obama will already be looked at as a person worth being admired. The first black president, and an articulate and intelligent one too. I still remember how people cried when they announced him having won his first term. They really thought their country was going to be in a better place than it was before.

And sadly, only a small bit of progress has been made and will soon be erased, now that Trump is in office.

Despite how I'm slagging the guy, I'm still not sure what kind of a job he will do. At least the CIA/FBI seems to back him; since the timing of the Clinton email investigations was incredibly convenient in giving his "crooked Hilary" platform a shred of legitimacy.

Who the hell knows what will happen.

Anyways, I fired up Tinder today for the first time in months; and I got quite a few matches. When my profile looks like this, I guess I can understand why.



So.. only have POF going, and this, I guess. Nothing is going to happen with Amber, it seems that she deleted her account on POF and I wasn't really interested in her anyways.

Lastly,




Bought some cool stuff the other day at Goodwill. Except for that pillow, which was ordered in from Amazon. Couldn't stand looking at Nic Cage all the time, despite how funny it is to tell people that I sleep with him every night.

Another Darth Vader shirt (with Boba Fett!) for three bucks. Pair of pants, (size 31 now, and its still not quite snug) for four dollars. Weird looking chicken decoration that I'll likely be giving to Justin for Xmas; was only five bucks. And then that cool looking wine bottle for ten.

Pretty good finds, I'd say.

(sighs) I'm thinking about seeing Rudy Guilliani and Chris Christie on stage with Trump. What a bunch of crooks.

But life must go on.

Always forward, never backwards.

Never backwards.

I still miss her. I miss not having my dad around either.

But what is there left for me to do?

Got to keep moving.

That's all anyone can do.

Tuesday, November 08, 2016

Monkey See, Monkey Do

Sitting in the tub right now, and I've been coming across a few insights in thinking about my last post.

Confidence is secondary to faith. If a man doesn't have faith in himself, what use would a higher power be to him?

Why would any woman who desires a man to be with; would want to be with someone who lacks faith in themselves? Someone who is insecure and indecisive as a result of not having any confidence?

Thoughts like these are making me realize that all the advice I've picked up, and all the experience I've had; it all means nothing, if I'm not feeling secure with any of the hundreds upon hundreds of narratives I have to choose from, to apply to my life.

A man needs to be consistent in his convictions. And if he has no convictions, then he becomes aimless and insecure.

He has to stick by a logical and consistent code of principles and values.

That's the key.

Men are usually expected to have convictions that they stick by. They need to honor the truth of their own hearts. No matter how flawed or ignorant they are.

That's interesting to me. It makes sense. As far as explaining why women stick with abusive men. I'm well aware of the conventional explanations for why many victims of abuse continue to hang around, but I'm proposing a deeper way of looking at the issue. Start with the man. I'm certain that no matter how vile and twisted a man can be, as long as he keeps a consistent narrative to secure himself with; whether it's true or false, or righteous or abhorrent; he will inevitably attract a woman willing to stand by him.

Very interesting indeed. I wish I could find data to support this theory of mine. All I have is anecdotal evidence. And some other things, like the success of most pick-up artists.

The PUA definitely needs to be examined in light of my observations. These are men who operate off of a script. They're usually insecure to begin with; but by pretending to be confident, by pretending to be someone that they are not; they find security within the methods they use to get women. And positive results feed into them actually developing confidence, despite how broken or undesirable they actually are.

All is forgiven, when a man is confident and secure in himself. Another bit of anecdotal evidence to throw onto the pile, is that my stepdad has never once apologized for being wrong. Well, maybe once or twice; but in the 20 some years I've known him, he would rarely concede to being wrong.

He kept the facade going. He refused to admit imperfection or flaws in his thinking and actions.

Now, I'm not like that. I readily admit to being wrong when I actually am, and I do hold my convictions if I'm in a passionate argument; but not always. I don't enjoy expressing anger, or feel the need to be in a confrontation, so I find the easiest path is to not escalate the situation. It's easier for me to walk away, or steer the conversation onto something else. Or worse yet, not say anything at all, and allowing the issue to fester and boil over before I feel like something has to be done about it.

Hmph. I feel inarticulate right now. I'm not explaining this succinctly enough.

I guess I am a coward. I should be more confrontational and stick up for what I believe in. But I also understand the ignorance of others, and how pointless it would be to argue, if they are unwilling to listen and be reasonable and respectful.

Should I be fighting fire with fire? Hmm. No, I refuse to stoop to that level. I should be pouring water over the fire, but whenever I backed down, like I did while on the phone with Gina; I only poured drops. Not buckets. And I walked away, feeling intimidated by the effort involved.

I'm splitting hairs with all this thinking/talk. I shouldn't have to dig this deep to figure it all out, but I do. I have to.

And this is what I already know. This is not a new insight, but one I've known for years. Had I not been so doubtful and insecure, had I been confident, even arrogantly so, then I would surely not be writing this post. And I would surely be with the woman I love.

I get it now.

I'm taking these steps forward.

Good thing no one else is reading this.

:P

Pretty embarrassing.

I've got to stay consistent, and I have to walk the talk.

And then be willing to defend what I believe in. Refusing to concede defeat should it ever present itself.

That about sums it up.

Got to keep moving forward.

With my head held high.

Trouble is, it's hard for me to be logically consistent with my beliefs. Not because I don't abide by any core values and principles; but because I'm hard of hearing. I sometimes can't hear what someone says, and I would rather give a fake improvised response, then to give a genuine one.

Because I hate to ask someone to repeat what they have said. I hate the further embarrassment of receiving a second repetition and still not hearing exactly what they said.

I have too much pride, or too much fear; than to ask them to repeat themselves a third time.

Otherwise the severity and shame of my deafness would be known.

And I'll have to give an answer to that.

Hmm. Looks like I'm getting deeper into the real issues with myself.

Pride or fear. Or is it both?

What am I really dealing with here?

I've always been ashamed of having to wear hearing aids as a child. I grew up resenting idea of having them on my ears.

Everyone would see it. Everyone would know that I am different, and I'm meant to be treated in a different way.

But, that's not what I want. I don't want people to treat me like someone who is not equal. Or inferior.

Because I'm not. I have pride in myself. I love who I am, when I am at my finest.

I wouldn't change a thing, other than to be less insecure and unsure of myself.

But, my hearing issues always make me feel insecure. Whether they're on my ears or not. I'm screwed either way.

And that's where fear comes in. It tells me how frightening of a change it can be, to suddenly hear like a normal person would.

To finally hear birds chirping. Crickets. Leaves rustling. Meows. Having a conversation a fair distance away from another person. To talk to them up the stairs, or to hear them call your name from another room.

Those things are important. In such a subtle and meaningful way. It's like experiencing good poetry, for the first time.

I don't know if I can handle that. I don't know if I can afford it even. A good pair of aids would cost me thousands of dollars that I don't have.

So, what can I do but be forced to go on without them? To try and make the most of my situation. Faking my way through several interactions where I may have missed hearing something I normally would comment on, but instead had to nod my head in silence and pretending like it was all I had to offer.

I can offer much more.

But, I'm so into my head sometimes. I really think too much and too deeply about different subjects and ambitions and ways to improve the world, and how to make my online profiles even better than they are (which isn't saying much).

So, when I fake like I have normal hearing; I'm subliminally giving myself permission to lie and be evasive. And sometimes faintly wounding another person's pride, especially if they have no clue as to my hearing issues.

That's always been tough. Having to fake it. So much improvisation and paying attention to body language and tone and I'm still not completely an expert on that. I still can't pull off a perfect fakery.

I'm also not willing to pull it off.

But I have to. It's the direction I'm being pushed in right now.

So, that's why I have trouble being logically consistent. I can't be consistent. Not when my actions and words sometimes contradict one another.

Such a dilemma to be in. In order to afford hearing aids, I'll have to work. And the more I work, the sadder I get.

No matter how nice everyone else is, and no matter how easy the work can be.

I still get sad having to do it. It's not my purpose in life. Never was an ambition or passion of mine.

I've had to live a lie for most of my adult life. A lie that I can't quite stop myself from repeating.

The lie that I will never find a job that I could enjoy doing. Or that I'm not good at doing anything else, but insulating.

The lie that I can never realize my dream in writing a successful novel, because I'm not very good at writing to begin with.

I am good. I do produce stretches of brilliance, but I produce crap too, and it's hard to feel proud of my low persistence in getting a book down.

I'm just dogged by other things. Like finding myself a woman worth spending the rest of my life with.

Too much going on with me. Too many complications and aspirations that it's exhausting having to deal with them. In addition to what troubles my lack of hearing sometimes brings me.

But I have to make the most of it. I have to keep living a lie until I figure out a way not to.

That's faith, now.

And along with confidence, it's in short supply at the moment.

I'm expected to rise up like a zombie, and find strength in myself to keep carrying on.

Like I've been doing for what feels like a hundred times already.

It's tough, man. I'm pretty tough too, I suppose. Still here. Still standing.

Still throwing my hat into the ring, once I get back inside to retrieve it. Always picking up the pieces and gluing myself back together. A little more frail sometimes and a little more stronger in other times too.

It's such a rollercoaster. Kind of thrilling sometimes, but always scary. Never really stopping for long enough, before the ride starts up again.

That's my life. And I can only continue doing the best I can with it. Knowing that I'm lacking strength and wisdom despite the many times I've pleaded with God for them.

It all comes down to me. All strength and power is already inside. Just waiting to be set loose. This huge reservoir wanting to gush forth.

And all I need now, is further courage, further faith; in order for me to escape this misery.

But though the well sometimes seem to be dry; it never really is. There is always water at the bottom when I dig for it. Even if it takes me a while to get to it. Like, years.

It's been a journey, for sure. But how long must it go on for? When will I cross that finish line and realize the purpose of my destiny and to find happiness by living in appreciation of it?

When will I know what my purpose will be? When will the girl of my dreams arrive?

Or had she already arrived?

Or is she soon to appear?

Just so much uncertainty, and I've suffered so long.

But I continued carrying faith. I continued believing, through all of the good and bad that has happened.

I just.. Kept believing.

And maybe that's what saving me right now. I believe I will be rewarded somehow if I continue to keep believing. Through all these hardships.

But I never got to believing in myself as much. I couldn't quite find comfort in accepting how slow my growth has been. Financially. Spiritually. Maturity wise.

I felt guilt in not being able to finish my novel by now. I feel bad for not being able to commit to it. This best option I have, to try and repair my life with.

But, my writing isn't as good as I've seen in other books. I'm not some kind of prodigy like Stephen King. I love waiting for inspiration to strike, and to carry it away in my embrace as I passionately make love to it by writing something I'm deeply proud of.

Oh well. I've zipped off this tangent long enough. I'm tired. Got out of the tub long ago and now laying in bed. Wearing her classically trained Nintendo shirt.

Time to relax.

And repair myself.

Miles Davis should do it.