It has occurred to me that I might not be as cool-headed and restrained as I have always thought myself to me.

In fact, I might be kind of a hothead.

I hope not, I really do. But in light of my recent incidents with arguing with teachers and getting into it with that asshole on the Skytrain, I have to at least consider the possibility that I have a quick temper given certain stimuli, and I will have to try to watch out for that in the future if I don’t want to end up shooting myself in the foot on a regular basis.

I’ve always known I have a quick mouth. Trying to restrain that is probably part of what made me start overthinking what I say in the first place. I learned at a fairly early age that I could not just say whatever popped into my head and I certainly could not let my thoughts flow out of my mouth like some people seem to do. If I had done that, I would not have survived long enough to attend school. I have always felt the need to carefully choose which of the many possible words that could be coming out of my mouth I would actually go with.

So a quick temper makes sense from that point of view. After all, a quick mind powers that quick mouth and emotions start in the mind.

Plus I know that I have enough suppressed anger that it fill the Grand Canyon up to the brim. A lot of bad shit has happened to me in my life, and I was too scared, timid, or weak to deal with it even by getting angry, plus there is the anger generated by all that latent pain. And like I have said many times before in this space, I have trouble expressing anger because of my Dad and his out of control temper. Because of him, I vowed that I would never take my bad mood out on others.

But I went too far in the other direction.

So yeah. Lots of pent up rage that has been brewing inside me for ages. It could be that my recent outbreaks of temper have been symptoms of my finally having progressed far enough through the recovery process to release some of that impotent rage. It’s something that I know has to happen before I can be healthy, but I have been reluctant to do it. Perhaps, in the name of recovery, that choice is being taken away from me for my own good.

That’s all well and good – but in the meantime, I have a life to lead and people I really don’t want to hurt or piss off, for reasons both ethical and professional.

If that’s the case, then at least there will be an end to the process. My suppressed rage might seem infinite sometimes, but it ain’t. Eventually, I would run out, and probably be a heck of a lot happier as a result. Makes me wish I could press a button and release it all at once. Spend a few months as a raging psycho in a mental ward.

That could actually be a funny scene. A big scary looking dude like me in the max security wing of a psychiatric facility screaming in a rubber room somewhere, spewing incoherent profanities, threatening everyone around me at the top of my voice… then suddenly stopping. Brief pause, then a polite knocking on my cell door.

“Um, excuse me? I’m done now, and I’d like to get out. ”

Anyhow, the other main possibility is that I have had this quick temper all my life, but I never knew it because it was buried under fear, depression, and eagerness to please. That would mean it’s the sort of thing I am just plain going to have to learn to live with, which seems like a huge amount of work and hassle.

But hey, the potential reward is sanity, so it’s all worth it. I guess.

Part of my recovery is to remind myself that life with real emotions, as opposed to the artificial calm of depression, is going to be a lot more messy and complicated. As a Taurus, I instinctively eschew complications, chaos, and confounding variables, and on that level, I find the inner regime of enforced tranquility soothing.

There’s a reason why a lot of the most destructive and horrible fascist leaders have been Tauruses. We’re prime candidates for favoring order above all else.

But that’s not real life. Real life is organic, complex, and interconnected. Even the most austere of regimes is nothing but a playground for cranky children who are so determined to hang on to their childhood innocence that they will destroy everything in the world that is too complicated for them to deal with.

And i want to live, dammit. Depression turned me into one of the undead, numb and cold, locked away in my ice palace and freezing to death. So emotionally suppressed that I could not even express my deep inner pain to the world in any form. Instead, I acted like nothing was wrong. And the sad part was, I even believed it.

And all that time, I was rotting away inside.

So now I want to live. To be part of the great big chaotic scary wonderful world, and partake of its warmth, that I might blossom at last.

That means learning to adapt to adapt to a life where the variables slowly increase in number and complexity, and I will have to, again and again, face the cold black wall of my absence of faith as I exceed the number of variables that can be known, calculated, controlled, predicted, and “handled”.

Once that happens, faith is the only thing that can save you. Faith, and trust. Faith that things will be okay even if you don’t know they will. Trust that the world is more than a cold and hostile hellscape. It’s also whatever else you want to make it into. But first you have to invest.

And that means risking loss.

And I know that’s not easy.

Of course, the REAL real answer might be that the summer heat is making me cranky.

But where’s the fun in that?

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

I could probably write a hundred of these, but today I will concentrate on items related to intelligence and verbal skills.

I had to learn to use my gifts responsibly when I was a younger man. I had the same kind of arrogant prejudices about what I should be allowed to do as any modern neckbeard because I had not yet learned that I had great power and with it came great responsibility.

I owe a lot to the exasperated people who had the patience to hang in there and force some wisdom into my brain. Without them, I would have gone down a very unpleasant path of intellectual elitism and misanthropy and ended up on some libertarian message forum yakking about I am the only one who really gets Ayn Rand.

here’s a few of the things I had to learn :

Once someone said that to me (or words to that effect), I was instantly chastened. I realized how ridiculous it was to go to the mat with someone over some argument that didn’t amount to a hill of cut rate beans in the grand scheme of things. Nothing is being decided, nothing is at stake, and no matter who comes out on top, absolutely nothing will change. That’s because…

2. Nobody has ever won an argument, ever

Not in the sense of changing the other person’s mind or proving who is right and who is wrong. All “winning” an argument proves is that you are better at arguing than the other person. And that’s equally true no matter what side of the issue at hand you take. And you certainly haven’t changed their minds because human beings just plain don’t work that way. When someone’s belief in something is attacked, they dig in to defend it and that goes exponential for when they lose the argument. People’s beliefs are the foundations of their world-views and hence their lives, and so if you attack their beliefs, they have to hold on to those beliefs all the harder just to maintain equilibrium.

It’s like they are standing on a branch of a tree, and you’re sawing at that branch and making it shake. Maybe the smart thing to do would be to hop to another branch. But the real thing – the human thing – is to hold on tight.

The idea that an argument can have a “winner” is an illusion created by the primitive parts of our brain, the deep reptile part, that thinks that you can always dominate your opponent and declare victory and that means you are better than them. But that doesn’t work when it comes to conversation, which is all that any argument is. “Winning” means absolutely nothing. All it proves is who is stronger, which brings me to my next point…

3. Intellectual/verbal bullying is still bullying

There is no difference between pushing someone around because you’re stronger than them and pushing someone around because you’re smarter than them. It’s still the strong attacking the weak for their own amusement, and that is the very definition of bullying. Intelligence and verbal skill grant no special immunity to this fact, nor does being a victim of bullying yourself. The strong should protect the weak, not prey on them. One of the worst cognitive crimes is to see another person as not human, and there can be no more pungent an example of this in hunters like us than to see your fellow human as prey.

4. Bullying is not necessarily obvious… or conscious

I learned this from some profs I had at UPEI. Verbal/intellectual bullying does not have to be something as obvious as dominating someone in an argument or mocking them until they cry. It can be something as simple as dominating a discussion by thinking faster than other people. Or taking joy in proving someone wrong. It could even be as subtle as asking questions that seem mild to you but to others are poisoned daggers throw straight at their hearts.

So it’s about more than simply not doing evil things. You are an elephant amongst mice. It’s not enough for the elephant to refrain from doing overtly evil things. It also must be very careful that it does not hurt anyone accidentally with its great size and strength.

I know that can seem like an unfair burden sometimes. After all, others don’t need to be so cautious. Why should you?

The answer is that you are more capable of hurting others than others, and that calls for superior restraint.

You should always remember that…

5. Not everyone is as strong as you

So what to you might seem like a light, playful verbal jam could be a deathblow to the solar plexus to someone else. And just like with the more physical form of bullying, it’s up to you to know how intellectual strong someone is before you engage in argument. It’s the only way to be sure that you’re not the asshole in the situation.

Think of a muscle bound jock coming up to a nerdy intellectual type and socking him hard on the shoulder. In his group of friends, that’s a friendly greeting. But to the nerd, it’s a random assault.

The exact same thing can happen on the field of argument. And because you’re the one with the superior strength, it’s your responsibility to understand that not everyone is like that. Which brings me to my final point of the evening :

6. It’s only a game if everyone knows they are playing and is having fun

This was a big one for me. I love to argue. For me it’s great fun and a marvelous form of mental exercise. And when I was young, I took whatever opportunity I could to play what amounted to my favorite game.

But the other people didn’t know they were playing, and had never consented to being my intellectual sparring partner, and odds are they are not having fun at all. There I was, obliviously pummeling people senseless, only caring about how much I was enjoying it.

Well that’s not argument. It’s abuse. It’s abuse as surely as a jock pushing around a nerd is abuse. Conversation is not consent. Even airing an opinion publicly is not consent if it’s in private, face to face conversation. No matter how inane you think someone’s stated opinion is, that does not give you license to go savage on them with all your might.

No matter how tempting that might be.

That’s all I can think of at this moment. I get the feeling the world would be a better place if that list was posted to every message board in the world.

Strength is not license. It justifies nothing.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.