Now, obviously, nearly all of us would prefer not to be murdered. Most people, given the choice, prefer living to dying, plus there’s always the chance that being murdered will leave an appalling mess of some kind and nobody looks good like that.

I mean really, who wants the “last impression” they leave on the world to be their dismembered carcass? And closed casket funerals are so very declasse.

But while the odds of getting murdered are extremely low (seeing as the number of people who get murdered at all during their lives is smaller than the number of Mensa Republicans), thoughtful people plan for all contingencies, especially if, due to some basic misunderstandings of your unique personality, you have through no fault of your own become a little murder prone.

If you see what I mean.

So offered here are some very simple precautions one can make to make sure that whoever ends up actually doing one in gets caught and punished and made to wear extremely unflattering prison attire for the rest of their natural lives.

(Full disclosure : While I lack what would be called “credentials” or “expertise” or “qualifications” according to a narrow interpretation of the word, I have watched so many hours of mystery and crime procedural shows that I think I know just a little bit more than the average citizen about the subject. This is the knowledge I am pleased to share. )

1. Prepare and properly store a DNA sample of yourself

When some small-minded person can not longer stand your scintillating uniqueness and decides they simply have to do you in, or they won’t be able to sleep at nights, the first thing the police will want is a sample of your DNA to compare to things.

Sometimes this can be obtained from everyday objects like unwashed clothing, tooth and hair brushed, and high powered marital aids, but the thoughtful person does not leave such things to chance.

So the first order of business is to obtain a DNA sample of oneself. There are many ways to do this, but I personally find that simply wearing a MaxiPad under each arm for a fortnight is the easiest and most straightforward.

Next comes storage. Your initial instinct will be to seal this precious specimen in an airtight container.

DO NOT DO THIS.

Turns out that while popping your DNA into a heavy duty Ziploc bag will keep it fresh for a certain time, after a while your precious specimen will begin to degrade and will eventually become no longer viable.

And after all, it might be years and years before your eventual assassin gets around to killing you (people are so lazy these days) and we have to plan for the long term.

Instead, store it in a paper bag someplace cool and slightly moist. This lets your specimen breathe and gives it the small amount of moisture it needs to keep going.

Oh, and above all, LABEL IT CLEARLY. You don’t want the police to find it and then throw it away because they assume it’s just the product of a bizarre fetish. Clearly write your name, telephone number, and the words “This is a specimen of my DNA to be used by police when I have been murdered” on it. I strongly suggest you use a medium-thick Sharpie.

2. Stick to an extremely rigid and inflexible routine.

This might seem like a bit of a sacrifice, but it will be worth it to know that if you deviate from it even in the slightest, people will immediately suspect foul play and alert the authorities. This will, of course, speed the course of justice by giving it a head start in solving the crime, and will also send a strong message to potential murderers that if they entire to release you from this mortal plane, they had better be prepared to really do their homework.

3. Make friends with your local police

This is a good idea for everyone, but a particularly good idea for people who, for whatever reason, suspect they might have caused a person or two to hate them with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns.

It is not a hard thing to do to get on the good side of your local law enforcement officers. Good coffee and high quality baked goods, delivered regularly, usually does the trick. Sure, this will be more expensive that a trip to Tim Horton’s for a party pack if Timbits and a six pack of double doubles, plus you will have to find the chic bakery in your town that does regular food in a really top notch way, but this is justice for your untimely demise, so it’s worth going the extra mile.

And while this tack might not make the police entirely fond of you (they may also fail to grasp your uniqueness), they will at least miss you when you are gone and they are forced back into the world of low end desserts.

4. Make sure there are witnesses

There are many ways of doing this. You could cultivate a wide variety of friends and make sure to have a social calendar so jam packed with activities that your killer can never find you alone long enough to get away with it. You could up the ante by inviting alert and trustworthy people with good memories to live with you. And you could pack your home with so many video cameras that stream directly to the Web and the Cloud that there is literally not one square inch uncovered, and then walk around naked at random intervals to insure that there is always someone watching.

These are but a few suggestions for making sure your inevitable assassin gets the ugly clothing and prison rape that they so very richly deserve. I am sure that, as one scintillatingly unique person to another, that given the basic idea you will no doubt come up with many more ideas on your own.

Good luck, and may you have a long and healthy life until they finally get you.

And I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

Last night, I posted this to Facebook :

OUT : Calling it the “placebo effect”.
IN : Calling it the “kiss it better effect”.
Remember how much better you felt after your mama kissed your boo-boo better? Well that is exactly how the placebo effect works. Someone has had their pain acknowledged and had nurturing to compensate, and the fact that mother’s kisses have no known medical benefit does not matter the tiniest bit. It’s the nature of the emotional transaction that matters, whether it’s mama’s kiss or a pill from another authority figure, your doctor. (Or herbalist or feng shui guy or whatever).

Clearly, I have done a lot of thinking about the placebo effect.

It fascinates me as a brain nerd, because it’s all about the mind-body connection and the mysteries it entails.

It fascinates me as a philosopher, because seriously, what does this say about the nature of human reality? Can something as fundamental as pain and disease really be overcome with mind over matter? Is it ethical to give someone a placebo while lying to them that it is totally legit medicine?

And it fascinates me as someone with a deep interest in compassion, empathy, nurturing. caring, and the real physical effects they can have on living beings.

I think the main reason that scientists cannot figure out how it works is because they think too clinically. Precise, meticulous, clinical thinking is the currency of science, but sometimes that narrows the focus to things already backed by facts and numbers and measurements, and that precludes true theorizing, which is much more of a creative endeavour.

So despite the mounds and mounds of evidence of the irrefutable objective existence and efficacy of the placebo effect, scientists simply cannot make the jump into truly believing that something as ephemeral and unprovable as state of mind can have a verifiable effect on something as comfortably real and literal as the human body.

So they continue to try to find a way around it. This is a classic case of an empiricist delusion. They can’t accept that the placebo effect is real, no matter how many times they prove it, so they keep on trying to disprove it and just end up confirming it over and over again.

When you refuse to accept overwhelmingly conclusive evidence in order to preserve your beliefs, you are just as deluded as all the climate change deniers.

I, luckily, have no such philosophical straitjacket to constrict me. I consider myself to be, on some level, a scientist, but one far more in the tradition of Einstein than the traditional lab scientist.

To me, like I said on Facebook, nurturing is the key. We need someone to acknowledge our pain and then perform an act of nurturing to kiss it better. All emotion is information that needs to be delivered and received, and so when someone, be they an MD, a homeopathic practitioner, or some African dude with a bone in his nose shaking a rattle.

One thing I would like to note is that the empirical types like to vilify the placebo dispensers. And it is not hard to see where they are coming from. These people often quote patent nonsense to support their claims (diluting something makes it stronger? really homeopathy?) and so if you judge them as applied scientists, they are peddling snake oil and should be run out of town on a rail for the good of the public.

But here’s the thing. Most people do not judge them as applied scientists, like doctor. To the average person, all they see is someone who might be able to help.

And they are not wrong! If the practitioner successfully engenders belief in the power of their particular practice, then whatever quack nostrum they are peddling will actually successfully kiss it better.

And medical doctors know this. That’s why there is such a thing as a placebo in the first place. They know, through their practice, that sometimes people come to the doctor feeling sick but all they really need is someone to listen to their complaints then perform an action of caring.

They need someone to kiss it better.

And look at it from the point of view of the alternative medicine practitioner. They learned their particular practice from a mentor (usually) and the mentor believed in it. And then they opened their own practice, and “treated” people, and those people came back and told them how well it worked and how they feel so much better now, so obviously, it works, right?

So I think the world needs these people, as hard to hack as they can be. At least until the medical profession takes the right lesson from these people and learns to be more warm, accepting, friendly, relaxing, and open.

That’s what really drives people to alternative medicine. If what the person needs is acknowledgement, sympathy, and an act of nurturing, then modern medicine does a pretty shitty job of providing it. Doctor’s offices are cold and clinical, with no regard for people’s lives (that’s why it doesn’t bother them to be late… it’s not THEIR time they are wasting) and filled with frightening looking equipment and the prospect of having to be nude in such a terrible place.

Hospitals are worse.

And so your friendly neighborhood herbalist can fill that gap. Being unencumbered by scientific rigor means they can spend time listening, being sympathetic, providing a pleasant and friendly environment, and give people the kind of ritual of nurturing that seems friendly and human and pleasant.

So I have no problem with these practices, provided they stick to the rule that says “only if traditional medicine hasn’t worked”. With that taken care of, anyone who sincerely wants to help people will understand that whatever makes people feel better, regardless of how ludicrous it seems. is a good thing.

The placebo effect may be troubling, but in the war against human suffering, we cannot afford to ignore its power.

Now if you will excuse, I feel a headache coming on and I need to find my Magic Pain Magnet.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

Brutality is predictable in its expression. It always comes from the same sources and the same motivations.

Tonight, I want to examine those.

So I will!

1. Brutality makes you strong

This is one of the many myths created by our status seeking reptile brain. The most primitive way to show dominance over another is to hurt them and get away with it. Whether it’s a fascist dictator or one of his low level thugs, the appeal is the same. Hurt people who are helpless to stop you, and you will get a rush of adrenaline and the feeling of dominance and power. This is why many of the wrong sort of people are attracted to law enforcement and other security work. They might say the right things at the psych eval and show the right attitudes around their superiors, but deep within them burns a desire for one of the most intoxicating things in the world : socially sanctioned violence.

This is also why there will always be people seeking harsher punishments in harsher jails no matter what the evidence says about what reduces harm to society. Those people don’t care. They just get a high from the brutality, and are always seeking a bigger fix. PUNISH THEM HARDER is their constant refrain, and they may mouth the words of justice and public safety, but all they really want is their share of public brutality towards the people with the least social status : the ones we label “criminals”.

2. Brutality is how the world “really” works

This is the common refrain of all kinds of brutes. In order to shield themselves from the realization of how awful they are, they have to construct a blatantly transparent belief system in which being a bully and a brute is necessary and even laudable because everyone is as horrible as they are, and they are just more “honest” about it. The sheer amount of evidence they have to ignore is staggering, but once a person is an abuser – of any sort – they need to abuse. It is a vital part of their coping mechanisms, and the high they get from brutality and the feeling of power and certainty it creates, however temporary, is the drug to which they are addicted. Therefore, like all addicts, their world view is formed around the basic premise that the addiction shall not be questioned and whatever has to be believed in order to keep the addiction fed, will be believed.

3. Compassion is a sign of weakness

This is one of those beliefs. Because the brutal and abusive person has a necessarily very narrow world view in which brutality and power (reptile brain) are held as the ultimate good, then it follows that anything that opposes it, like higher brain functions, is the enemy. From this weak and narrow point of view, compassion is weakness because it leads away from brutality.

But in reality, compassion and mercy don’t make a person weak. They only make them less brutal. They lead away from the harsh, cold, brutal world of the dinosaur brain and into the more community oriented collective actions that have made human beings the dominant species of the world.

So compassion doesn’t make people weaker. It makes them more human.

4. The constant threat of our enemies forces us to be brutal

Clearly another delusion caused by the needs of the brutal mind to ignore its own unworthiness, the brutal primitive mindset demands that there always be an enemy whose presence justifies the kind of harsh, brutal mindset they prefer. That way, instead of masking their brutality behind the justice system, they can hide it behind communal defense. Whether or not the enemy is a foreign nation or kids on skateboards, there is nothing the brutal primitive likes more than an excuse to stop pretending to be civilized and instead rely on the dinosaur brain emotions which the weak-minded trust and prefer.

And of course, if there is no such enemy, the need for this febrile justification is so strong that one will be invented. Based on the tiniest shreds of evidence, or no evidence whatsoever, an enemy will be found, war will be declared on it, and the brutal person has their molecular thin justification for reverting to their preferred primitive state.

Hence the evil genius of the modern penchant for declaring war on abstract concepts like “drugs” and “terrorism”. These supposed wars are designed to be unwinnable. Thus, the brutes using them for smokescreen will never have to face the horrible reality of having to think like a human being again.

5. Everyone will have to become brutal eventually

Otherwise known as the Apocalypse Principal. This is the brute’s need for tools of denial writ large. In order to justify their own brutal and primitive attitudes, the brute must imagine that, within their lifetime, civilization will revert to such a primitive state that the brute no longer feels out of plate in a society which runs on principals they can’t stand and do not trust. In fact, in this brutalist fantasy, the barbaric and mindless values they have cultivated will actually turn out to be a blessing, as opposed to a clear sign that for some people, civilization just doesn’t “take”.

Hence the popularity of all forms of apocalyptic belief. Whether your chosen apocalypse is biblical, environmental, political, or economic, the brute assures themselves that soon, everyone will be brought down to the brute’s level, usually because people didn’t do what the brute told them (or wanted them) to do.

Thus, in one neat package, the brute gets to believe that all this complex civilization stuff that they don’t understand and don’t like will go away, the reason will be because the brute was right and they were WRONG, and every one of the people who think they are better than the brute just because they are morally intact will suffer, and they will all have to play by the simple, brutal rules which are the only kind the brute can understand.

Heck, then even have a head start, if they are a survivalist. Survivalists love the idea that they will live while all the people they hate (you know, the pro-civilization ones) will die because they are not brutal enough.

Hmm. Didn’t get into the motivations and causes and such. Maybe next time.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

Yup, I am in my new favorite White Spot in Richmond Center.

My old favorite was the one at 3 Road and Ackroyd, but that is like four whole blocks from here. What am I, a Sherpa?

My original motive for going out today was to renew my bus pass. But I forgot the form necessary to do so.

Ugh, some current female singer has done a brutal and terrible cover of Sunglasses At Night by Corey Hart. Just when I think I have no more childhood left to rape…

Anyway, I realized I had forgotten the form before we had left the parking structure, and I totally could have gone back up to the apartment and grabbed it.

But I didn’t. And now I wish I had. I am trying to have less “fuck it” and more “do it” in my life, and not going up was definitely a “fuck it” kind of thing.

But the day is not a loss. I did get the needle tips for my insulin injector that were my other reason for going out today. And even though it involved walking a whole block that I did not have to, I came here to White Spot to treat myself to a meal.

And I am proud of that. The easiest thing, the most “fuck it” thing, the most “like the old me” thing, would have been to get the tips and go straight home, and be depressed about the whole thing.

But the path of least resistance often sucks. Instead of being depressed, I will now be proud that I made the better choice.

weird thing at the pharmacy : when I got there, the pharmacist was taking pictures with a teenaged couple. From their conversation, I deduced that the female half of the couple was the pharmacist’s niece or daughter, but that is it.

So I am dying to know WTF is up wid dat. But obviously, my Canadian reserve prevented me from even thinking of asking.

That would be rude!

Oh, and get this : they were taking actual Polaroids. Not an Instagram filter, straight up actual “shake it like a Polaroid picture” Polaroids. Hadn’t seen those in years. Weeeeird.

Oh,and there is a Real Customer Quote in the menu that says something like ” I love how they welcome me here and make me feel like family even with my active toddler. I can clean up the messes, but I like not feeling embarrassed. ”

Emphasis mine, of course.

Ot, as I interpret it, “we the owners and operators of the White Spot family of restaurants welcome the money of parents of horrible brats. After all, we aren’t the ones who will have to deal with the hellspawn your lack of parenting has created. ”

I bet the very nice waitresses they have here would beg to differ.

And you know what? If your out of control pint sized hooligan is making life miserable for both the staff and your fellow diners, you SHOULD feel embarrassed. That is the morally and socially correct response, and it sickens me to see a for profit entity suggest otherwise just to line their own pockets.

God damn, I am cranky lately. I might be undergoing my metamorphosis into a curmudgeon like, 20 years too early.

Oh well. If you play your cards right, you can be the lovable and occasionally hilarious kind of grump.

Think Lou Grant. Or, forgive me, Andy Rooney.

Enough fir now. See you back at Fanhattan.

Back home now. Was pleasant to be out in the winter air. Of course, for here, that air is at 8 degrees Celsius. So not exactly an arctic chill. But still, pleasantly cold for a chronically overheating fat dude.

Saw a “you are here” poster on a bus stop on the way to White Spot, and realizes that I always get a surge of happiness and warmth when I see one of those. As a chronically confused and easily disoriented person (just like my mother), just seeing the words “you are here” is like a beacon of blessed clarity in a sea of confusion.

Actually knowing where you are is good too.

There was this Cracked article recently that I wanted to comment upon.

Ignoring the article title, the basic gist is that people think it is fine to mock skinny people, the Irish, and Italians, and feel fine about culturally appropriating everything from the Hindu culture of India.

We will take the India issue first. There is nothing wrong with taking fashion inspiration from another culture. India has some really appealing ladies’ clothes, full of color and grace and style.

But leave the bindi alone! That’s a religious symbol, not a fasion accessory. Go nuts with all the saris, dangly bangles, and makeup you want. But leave the bindi out of it!

As for the other three, the reason we feel okay in indulging in harmful stereotyping about them is that they are all minorities which are socially accepted. Italians and the Irish have “made it”. Sure, they are technically minorities, but they have fully integrated into society and therefore they are not a minority which is discriminated against.

So jokes about drunken brawling Irishmen and dopey mob-connected Italians do not feel like they are “kicking someone when they are down” and therefore do not trigger the same outrage in us.

As for skinny people, they are widely seen as to be envied and emulated. This makes them socially superior to others, and the hardest people to empathize with are always our social superiors.

Instead, people feel free to envy, despise, and spew venomous hate at those above them. After all, those people already “have it all” and deserve no pity, right?

But everyone deserves the same compassion and sympathy regardless of social status. That means that both Bill Gates and the hobo who pukes in your dumpster equally deserve our care and understanding.

That is why I would let the richest man in the world use my soup kitchen and homeless shelters. The absolute best thing we can do for the rich and powerful is treat them as equal to everyone else. That is the exact message they need to hear. It both welcomes them back into the arms of humanity and reconnects them with the people their social status has isolated them from.

Attacking them, on the other hand, just makes them retreat further from the common man.

Well, that’s my words. I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

There’s a lot of people walking around free these days under the patently obvious delusion that they are small government libertarians who believe in a highly restrained, pared down government in order to maximize freedom.

Tonight, I thought I would provide some enlightenment to said legal citizens, and provide them with a handy list of signs that they are not libertarians and therefore are free to seek a more accurate political label for themselves.

This document will also function as a sort of field guide for the casual observer of libertarians and their colorful ways.

Without further ado, YOU ARE NOT A LIBERTARIAN IF :

You are against gay marriage. Even the most simplistic imagining of libertarianism would state that individuals should be able to enter whatever sort of legal relationship they choose with one another. And it is certainly not the job of the State to decide which marriages are legitimate and which are not. There is absolutely no libertarian justification for opposing some marriages based on gender combination. If you are against gay marriage, you are not a libertarian.

You support large military expenditures and/or military interventions. Not only is war the most expensive thing a government can do (and therefore the thing which puts the most strain on the tax dollars they extract from you), having a very powerful military makes government beholden to defense contractors instead of to the people they supposedly represent. That makes government more likely to want more taxes to feed their war machine, and even make them more likely to want to curtail your freedoms in the name of their Statist fear agenda. You cannot claim to be for smaller government if you turn a blind eye to the biggest use of your tax dollars and let private corporations who are not beholden to you or any other citizen continue to blatantly rape the public purse with impunity. They openly mock the very idea of accountability by selling your government good they know are defective. They are parasites on the body public, and should be the sworn enemy of anyone who values small government and lower taxes. If you love a big shiny military, you are not a libertarian.

You support harsher prison sentences served in harsher prisons. Of all the powers granted the government, the power to lock someone in a cage should be the true libertarian’s least favorite. There can be no greater loss of freedom to an individual than imprisonment. All true libertarians wish to limit this government power the most, and would favour, if anything, lower sentences in gentler prisons. The very concept of minimum government dictates no less. Government infringement on personal liberty has to be kept to an absolute minimum, and there is certainly no room in true libertarian thought for the bizarre notion that one somehow loses all their rights simply because the State has assigned them the label “criminal”. The State cannot confer or remove rights. They are inborn. If you support increased prison sentences in harsher prisons, you are not a libertarian.

You are against all forms of government interference in the world of business. True libertarians seek to maximize individual liberty by whatever means necessary. That extends far beyond the realm of government. Just as the police protect your freedom against your neighbor’s decision to take your possessions, so does government regulation protect your freedom from the other main threat to your liberty, economic force. Both government and money can take your rights away and crush all autonomy and individuality out of public life. If you favour either one of these forces, you support leaving the other unchecked. The two forces must be made to hold one another in check for any hope of freedom for the individual to survive. If you are against government intervention in the free market, you are not a libertarian.

You support the “war on drugs”. There is no room in true libertarianism for the government to have any opinion whatsoever about what chemicals an individual ingests. It certainly leaves no room for a bizarrely selective and arbitrary set of rules that allows some very harmful chemicals (nicotine, alcohol) and forbids other non-addictive and safer ones (cannibis, kava kava). And even more, there can be no justification for the kind of massive expansion of government and increase in government powers required to fight people’s right to do what they want to their own bodies. The entirety of what is known as “vice” in law enforcement (like the government has any business policing people’s vices) stands in direct opposition to libertarian values of individual liberty and minimum government. If you support the war on drugs (or prostitution, or pornography, or gambling), then you are not a libertarian.

And finally, the biggest one of all :

You think corporations are people. There can be nothing more offensive to the sensibilities of a true libertarian than a collective being given the rights of the individual. The entire crux of libertarianism rests on the notion that rights attach to individuals only, and that collectives do not and cannot have rights except those that stem from an aggregate of individual rights. The idea that a collective can be granted any of those rights for the expressed purpose of avoiding full liability for their actions should shock and enrage any true libertarian. The fact that they get to pick and choose which or the rights they feel like having at any given moment (with none of the responsibilities or accountability associated with them) should only further enrage.

As you can see, with just this handful of disqualifiers, I have eliminated most of the people calling themselves libertarians today. Most of them are merely social conservatives hiding under a cloak of false patriotism and ideological purity in order to avoid the realization that they have become the exact sort of person they used to hate when they were young and ethically intact.

The rare exceptions are people like Ron and Rand Paul, who are bugshit crazy, but at least they are consistent.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

Been thinking about the roots of our politics lately.

Basically, I have decided that the root cause of conservatism is neophobia. This is often but not always due to age. As we get older, our minds lose elasticity just like our bodies do, and we find it harder and harder to adapt to change, and thus more and more likely to view it as a threat, if not fundamentally evil.

As the world continues on as it always has, we fall further and further behind, and that gives us the feeling that the world must be careening out of control and headed for disaster. The only way to avert said disaster is to halt all changes and revert to a previous age, when we we young and vigorous and able to keep up with things.

This previous era now seems like an oasis of clarity, stability, and predictability, and rapidly becomes heavily idealized. All flaws are rigorously scrubbed out in service of maintaining this new mental haven. If they are not forgotten outright, they are recast as being not that bad, considering how frightening and strange the world has become to you.

After all, at least back then, you knew where you stood. Then some crazy people came along and changed things, and now you are no longer certain of anything.

You weren’t certain then either, of course. Just like childhood always seems a lot better to those not currently suffering from it, whatever your preferred era is, odds are you are not remembering how you actually felt at the time. Sure, you were young, but you were also scared, and compared to now, stupid.

What we really want, deep down, is the ability to go back then with what we know now. That is, of course, impossible.

So instead, we grow increasingly hostile to all change. That is where you get the people who are always against whatever is currently being debated. If it’s change, they are against it, period, no debate, no consideration. Conservatives are, in a sense, tragic figures who are forever doomed to fight a pointless battle against an enemy they can never defeat : change.

Too bad they can do some real damage as they kick and scream and drag their heels while the rest of us carry them into the future whether they like it or not.

Now I am forty one years old, so I am not talking about this from an outsider’s point of view. I am beginning to feel that mental calcification in my own mind, and the resultant feeling like the world is descending into chaos when it is, in fact, doing just fine and it’s my own mind that is now quite keeping up.

Sometimes the idea of having to adapt to the new seems just so damned exhausting that I am tempted to join those who are looking for a time-out to catch their breath and catch up. Right now, I am not falling behind too fast, and I can more or less keep up on this and that through the Internet, so the temptation is not that strong.

But despite my efforts at staying mentally active and hence fighting off my oncoming decrepitude, I will no doubt continue to decline, and I know that some day I will have to tap out and let the world go on without me.

Having seen that coming since I was in my late teens, it will not catch me entirely by surprise. I will hate it and I will fight it, but I know I will lose the fight sooner or later, and all I will have left is my iron determination to not let my growing senile neophobia become my world-view.

No matter what I feel about change going out of control, I will know that it is me, not the world, that has the problem.

Eventually, a lot of what is going on will simply make no sense to me. The world will seem like chaos to me, like it’s all one whirling, spinning, neon carousel going way too fast, and I will have to retreat into what I know and understand, and let the world whirl on without me.

The difference is that I know this is coming and know that there might well be a point where I am simply no longer qualified to have an opinion on world events because I no longer have any idea what the hell is going on anyhow.

And I will always be the implacable enemy of conservatism. If my positions are hardening, that’s the shape they are hardening into. I feel like I have never understood just how impossibly wrong that entire mindset is, and how the world should not be done injury simply to make it more comprehensible to codgers and dolts.

Even when the world is a confusing whirl of colors and smoke to me, I will oppose the small-minded thuggish cruelty of all who oppose change in and of itself. I will always fight the forces of ignorance, barbarity, emotionalism, thoughtlessness, and sociopathic self-interest. I will always defend real capitalism against the forces of the imaginary capitalism created by the desire for a world of perpetual indulgence without cost or compromise.

And I will always be willing to take a good hard look at myself and ask myself “Do I really understand this well enough to have an opinion about it?”

Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes the best I can do is point out that other people don’t really know all the facts either. It is the right of all free people to have and express uninformed opinions. But I am free to point that out.

You know, they say one of the signs of old age is going on and on with rambling stories and thoughts that don’t go anywhere and never reach a conclusion.

If that’s true, I have been quite old for a very long time.

and I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

This blgo entry will be somewhat hurried, as things have gotten slightly… complicated.

See, Joe is sick. Poor Joe. He has gotten one of those throat infections to which he is prone, and so has not been at work yesterday or today.

Silver lining : it does me that he’s available to hang out earlier than usual. Usually, he works till midnight, and so we (by which I mean tout la gang, Felicity included) only have a few hours to hang out on Tuesday night.

But sans work, Joe is free to hang out whenever Felicity is ready. Which is like… now.

So in order to not slow down the show, I am dashing off my blog entry in order to be ready for 7 o’clock.

One problem : I totally forgot to do laundry today. So, no clean pants. I will be forced to wear gym pants with suspenders for the evening. That seems like suitable penance.

Of course, if we decide to go out to eat, it’s a whole different story. No way would I be caught dead wearing that outside this apartment. I would have to do the “which of these is least dirty” dance (never pleasant) and go with that.

This is how sudden Febrezing happens. Not proud of it, but sometimes, exigencies demand.

Been sleeping a lot lately. Guess I am in one of those sleepy periods. Hardly a surprise after going a whole night without sleeping. My sleep cycle is all out of whack. It will take me a bit of time to get realigned.

It’s not an unhappy kind of sleep though. I am pretty cool with it so far. That’s how it usually is at first. When I get into these sleepy periods, I usually find it easy to handle for the first couple of days, but then I start to get really frustrated with it because I am missing time and want to be doing things and not just hibernating.

That’s when it starts to stress me out. And then is depresses me. This time, I think I will avoid that whole mess by just picking an arbitrary point where I just stop listening to the sleepiness and force myself to stay awake, using caffeine if necessary.

That way, I can sort out the actual organic need for sleep from the “just retreating from reality to press fast forward on life” kind of fake sleepiness, and get back some control over myself.

I have reached a period of being sick and tired of the usual bullshit in my stupid fucking life, and I am determined to put this discontent to good use.

Mood wise, I have been pretty good. Dunno if that is because of the increased Paxil dosage, or because I’ve turned the corner on my long term mood cycle, or what. I haven’t exactly been bouncing off the walls with joy (that’s for the manic depressives) but I have been feeling fairly good about life.

Psychologically, I feel like I have gotten in touch with a deep primal identity rage, the fundamental urge that screams “I AM ME!” into the void, and I am using that to counteract that overactive superego of mine.

It’s not something I have ever really connected with my life. I have always had a certain lack of self, which can be very handy sometimes when you want to get through life unbound by excessive ego demands. It definitely comes in handy when I want to understand others deeply, or when I want to be able to influence a situation towards a desired outcome even if it means seemingly not coming out on top.

My philosophy is, if I get what I want, I win. Other than that, I am fairly willing to let it seem like I have lost, because deep down, I know I didn’t, and I am laughing at the people who think otherwise.

But of course, this lack of self becomes incredibly toxic. In fact, I am not sure that the lack of self is not the primary cause of the depression. Somehow, it turns into the inability to maintain internal structure and external limits in one’s psyche, and leaves the depressive without a functional psychological immune system.

From there, decline is inevitable.

So connecting with this deep primal pre-rational self is incredibly important. It provides an injection of raw heat into the deathly chill of depression. A source for fighting back the darkness.

My new refrain is “KILL THE MACHINE”. It is primal rebellion, hot and hard and uninterested in being “reasonable”. I am going to destroy this overdeveloped superego of mine. Take it apart piece by piece until I can breathe free and grow strong.

The “being unrestrained by reasonableness” aspect is very important. The self needs what it needs and no amount of rational restraint is going to change that. Reason might modify the method, but the goals remain the same.

That… is not going to be easy for me. My parents trained me in this deceptive form of being “reasonable” (otherwise known as “having no needs of my own”) from a very early age. A lot of us latchkey kids of the 80’s got that message. Being a good kid meant going along with whatever our parents asked of us without complaint.

So the very idea of doing something I know is unreasonable and could not logically defend makes me feel quivery and weird inside. I am still learning the important of doing things just because I want to. Most of my life I simply do by default. I do it because it’s what I do. The idea of forming a wish for something then acting on it is still hard for me.

But the primal scream is there now. “Fuck you, I’m me!” it says. It is not afraid to do what it takes to make room for itself in this crazy old world. It will be hard for me, and I suspect I will go too far before I learn my limits, but this is the only road which leads to a stronger, healthier me.

And I will sacrifice a lot to get that.

I will also talk to you people again tomorrow.

Well, here I am in my second favorite White Spot, relaxing after a slightly harrowing morning.

I do have my drugs, but I had to go a whole extra two blocks to Shoppers for them. My usual pharmacy is closed Sundays, not open 10 to 2 like I thought. So I had to go to Shoppers.

This was more upsetting than it should have been because, well, I have never hanllef surprise well. So when my usual pharmacy was closed, my brain kicked into “worst case catastrophe” mode and my mind conjured up images of me not sleeping till Monday, and spending all of today slowly losing my mind from lack of sleep and Pacil.

But of course, it was no big deal. I had to go through the “new customer” deal (apparently the computers of different Shoppers don’t talk to each other… probably a privacy thing) but that was no big deal. The pharmacist was very nice.

And now I have a Sunday pharmacy, I guess.

Food’s here! Later, nice people!