IntroDeathtive Philosophy Part 1

You know how when you look back on when you were a kid (provided you're not now a kid) or when you look back on an earlier version of yourself and you think, "Wow, I can't believe that was me," or "I was so naive"? (Nice run-on, huh? Thank you David Foster Wallace.) Anyway, I think that when you die everything is so vivid, that it seems like a dense, blurring fog has lifted. The visual experience is very clean and acute. Din, and the aural experience that surrounds it, is as crisp as the first thin ice of late autumn. Touch is in sync with the added depth of vision. Smell is multi-dimensional and taste mirrors smell in nature and it's complexity. Our awareness understands an expansiveness that we truly can't begin to comprehend. Perhaps if we took all of the unique qualities of special minds over the course of human history, we could begin to fathom the divide, but not actually understand it.

This is how I think I'll transform when I pass on, or what I'll pass into. I mean, something happens. My logic dictates that either one of two things happens:

1. The switch flips and there's nothing and it's completely finished. Empty. There's no more energy. It's as if there's no "yourself". To that which was you, there never was. (Not sure if I borrowed that from someone or not...but I think it gets my point across).

2. We pass "on" or "into" something. Continuation. Purpose.

The former is bleak in one sense and strangely comforting, to me, in another. Bleak because when you're living, not living is a stark opposite. Death is contrary to living. It's a complete 180 (not a product placement, however if you mix them with vodka, they're awesome! paypal accepted). Comforting, because I'll finally be able to rest. Be at peace. I can stop processing, which, if you think about it, is basically what we do. Mentally and physically. I also note that this option flies in the face of most world religions.

The latter is attractive in several ways. One is the "180 Theory" I mentioned above. Another is that it suggests our spiritual selves are on an unending journey beyond this reality. We are not confined to this realm in and of itself. We continue on, and in some cases depending on beliefs, will continue on to join our creator or "possibly" join our creator after journeys through multiple realities.

I think it's the latter. I also think it's multiple realities that we journey through. My reasons for this will follow at a later time. However, as is the case for all of us, I have had specific experiences that have shaped my thoughts on this topic.

I have to note the following. There is a conceptual difference between "think" and believe". I read or heard somewhere, sorry...it escapes me right now, so I'll filter it with the message I got out of the quote: "'Belief' is the enemy of humankind and 'Think' is it's friend". When you say 'I believe this...', you have rendered a decision about something and closed off all other possibilities. For the time being, at least. Remember when you were a little kid and you said to aunt Martha, "Yes auntie, I believe in (and you meant the physical person) Santa Clause"? The belief shift was probably traumatic. So, it's not a permanent decision. It's basically a decision that requires a substantial event to cause reconsideration. When you say, "I think this...", you are saying, "yeah this is where my head might be right now, but I'm still exploring, considering, and open to new possibilities". Believe = Closed. Think = Open.

Laura Bush is Disgusted

Well, well, well. It's about time Laura. Welcome to the party! We've been waiting for you.

[Click Title Link Above]

We're disgusted too. We're disgusted by the idiot that happens to be your husband. We're disgusted by the moron that is your mother-in-law. We're disgusted pretty much by your entire clan of in-laws. We're thoroughly disgusted by the band of cronies that your idiot husband placed in positions that they had no relevant experience for. However, we're most disgusted by what has occurred in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.

Hillary Clinton took a lot of shots because she stood by her husband in the wake of his infidelity. Well, get ready Laura, because you've got a huge red and white target painted on that empty little head of yours. How could you, without even so much as a smirk on your face, defend that entitled, little "daddy's boy". I've never really had a problem with you. I've regarded you as little more than just another clueless twit along for the ride. Then you had to go and open your mouth and contradict blatant fact.

I think you need to ask yourself two questions:

1. What is the race of the majority of people who have suffered the most through this ordeal?
2. What did your husband do prior to the furor generated when the Mayor of New Orleans told him to "get off of his ass"?

I can see from the smoke coming out of your ears that you're having a hard time with this, so I'm going to help you (see, I can even act compassionately towards those I don't respect).

Black, and Nothing.

Now, if you think the answers to these questions are disgusting, then we're probably beginning to reach some common ground on this. However, I doubt you’re getting it. Remember this the next time you go on a little PR tour in support of your husband: "Keep my mouth shut." You might want to write it on the palm of your hand in permanent marker. And don't ever think that you're even close to being an intelligent, informed, and enlightened First Lady like Hillary Clinton was. She has a brain. A BIG brain. She has gone to great pains to make sure that her brain is informed. Most importantly, her brain is able to process simple, as well as complex data, and speak intelligently about it. You, sadly, as demonstrated by your comments, can not. It's no real sin on your part, unless you continue to flap your lips about things you can not possibly understand.

Here's a final question for you. This one can only be answered by your actions.

You know that all important "war against terrorism" that we're waging half-way around the world? You know, the one that has disastrously depleted our nation's resources to the point that we can't adequately deal with a crisis that affects our citizens at home? Uh uh...wait…that's not the question...here's the question:

Since you dimwits support it so much, when are you going to show support for the war through your actions and send the "Twins" over to do their duty, and serve on the front lines?

Sleep Is For Pussies or Sheep are for Plushies?

I wish that I never have to get out of bed for logistical reasons, ever again. "Good luck", I hear my dear dead parents chuckle from another dimension. "Shhuuut uhhhhppp", I reply in my best Ed Norton schitzo voice.

I mean, I love not having to be anywhere at any particular time. I love that no one gets to "suggest" what I should be doing at any given moment. I especially love that, even though I tend to be awake by 8:am, I don't have to worry about waking up in the morning. Then again, I am my own worst boss. My inner voice is a son-of-a-mutha fukah. My self guilt skills are studied by the Catholic and Baptist Churches and incorporated into their manuals for "Controlling The Masses". Thank God I can hit the ignore button. I feel sorry for the sheep.

It's weird. It's downright fucked up, that when you don't have to get up, you could stay up until the wee early recesses of the morning and wake up at 6:am with no problem. But, when you do have to get up, those are the nights that if you don't get to sleep early enough, the next morning is a dreadful process of feeling like shit and trying to convince yourself in the mirror that you can "definitely pull this off".

Killer is in the next room sleeping right now. Shhhhhhh! The poor girl neeeeeeds her sleep. She is such an amazing bundle of energy. It's no wonder she gets all tuckered out. I wish I had that problem. Instead, I suffer from the dreaded "Chinese Water Torture of Sleep" condition. Someone, maybe the Great Ja Allah Buddah God Creator thought it would be funny to watch this poor fucker lie in bed, night-after-night, trying to fall asleep. Maybe this is where the "tag line" for my blog is fucked. A shrink could at least prescribe something for me. The divine one is content to laugh.

On the other hand, I'm on one big assed, expensive vacation right now. "Enjoy it while you can", I rationalize it to myself. Overall, I've been pretty good, though. I don't drink or do anything else Nancy Reagan wouldn't approve of...during the day. I've considered decadent activities, but most of my brahs are at work during the day.

So, I guess I'll go lay my head on my pillow and start counting...hmmmm...you know what shepherds say about sheep? Poor Killer.

Life in the Fast Lane or Road Rage Road Rash?

Killer and I decided to stay at the beach last night, wake up at 5:am, and drive back to our place in a medium-sized metropolitan city in time to get her to work - as i mentioned previously, my start-up bombed recently, so I really don't have to be anywhere at anytime.

Allow me to digress for a moment. I'm only three posts into this and I think "Killer" needs a little explanation. She is a fierce warrior with a heart of gold. What I love about her is that she stands firm on her convictions. She LOVES people. She wants to help them ALL. She's compassionate, caring, and sensitive. However, she's no cute, precious, little pussy. Disagree with her ideologies and prepare to gain an understanding you've never had before. Anger her, cross her or otherwise raise her ire, and prepare to get your butt kicked. Killer. I like it. It gives me a warm fuzzy.

So...Killer and I drove from the beach back to our medium-sized metropolitan city at...well...6:am. We hit the snooze on the alarm several times before we actually heeded it's call, grabbed a couple of cups of coffee, gassed up @ $3.40/gal, and hit the open road. Open Road...what a crock.

I don't know about you, but doesn't everyone know by now that the Left Lane on freeways, highways, beltways, etc. is for traffic moving at a faster speed than everyone else. So, if you're cruising along in the left lane, passing traffic in the right lane, and someone comes up behind you that is moving faster, the appropriate thing to do is move to the right lane and let them pass. I do it. I'm by no means the fastest car moving on the road (I believe in having faster "cop bait" cruise ahead of me). However, there's a butt load of drivers out there that don't follow this rule! Why isn't there an ad campaign out there to raise awareness for this? Some states actually post signs "Slower Traffic Keep Right". But no one seems to understand what that means. Especially...now I know I'm going to alienate some people with this one...Blue Hairs. Nine times out of ten, some old fucker is hogging up the left lane, like it's his/her god given duty to FORCE everyone to drive the speed limit. Get the fuck out of the way!!!! If I want to get $10,000 speeding tickets, it's my business. Shut The Fuck Up, get in the right lane and let me get about my business.

Killer doesn't like it when I get upset in traffic. It makes her nervous. I can understand why. Sometimes I get so worked up that I begin to resemble Joe Pesci in the GoodFellas "get your shoeshine box" scene. The above act, along with pull in front of me and slow down, is enough to get me to drag one of these fuckers out of their cars and beat the living shit out of them. It's completely irrational on my part. I totally understand that. I was a vision of calm when I started writing this post. Read the sweet things I said about Killer three paragraphs up. Now, having written about this, my face is red, heart beat accelerated, and sweat is breaking out on my brow.

I detest, no...I HATE being cock-blocked. The move that is sure to get me to behave irrationally is when one of these pricks refuses to speed up, so I try to pass them in the right lane and they speed up so I can't get around them. What the fuck is that? Are you begging me to flip out and lose control?!?! Let me pass. Trust me, it will be no skin off your ass if I get around you and reach my destination 15 minutes earlier. In fact, I'll probably think nice thoughts about you as I watch you fade into my rear view mirror.

Look, I'm not an unreasonable guy, believe it or not. I would never cause physical harm to someone...unnecessarily. I can't stand it when I get riled up like this. I just want to get where I need to be with a minimum amount of bullshit on the way.

Let's all be courteous and help each other. Assist me in getting to my destination 15 minutes earlier and I promise to make sure that my excessive speed collision won't involve you. As an added benefit, Killer may finally be able to stop popping Valium at every milepost marker.

The Year of the Condom

Today was all about protection. Getting my infrastructure in order. Being proactive to a point of inanity. Why? I guess when you feel like things are spinning too fast, maybe a little out of control, you try to find something you can control. I'm not a control freak or anything...to be fair, some of my friend's might disagree...but I think that when things are spinning, if you try to grab a little ground here and there, you can slow the spin. So I dealt with some minor stuff. Little "Wins" that made me feel like I had a grip on things...or at least was getting one. Gotta love delusions.

My day began with the usual routine. Wait. Lemme rewind a little. Killer and I hung out last night. We do that so well. I've never had that with an SO (Significant Other) before. Anyway, around ten or so, we decided to go up to the bedroom and watch a little more tube before we fell asleep. I managed to go coma ~10:30. The funny thing is I haven't been sleeping well lately, but I managed to sleep until 9am. I woke up refreshed and with a smile on my face. I was stoked that I had slept for 9 and a half hours. My first order of habit when I'm at my beach house (no, I'm not financially, ridiculously well off): I check the surf report. Nothing gets me off more than waking up and going surfing. The surf was flat, so I checked out my news feeds and saw the typical B.S. Rehnquist dies. "Idiot" nominates Roberts for Chief Justice. (For the record, I will not refer to that ass-clown in the White House by his name, supposed title, or anything that could come close to indicating respect - immature? maybe. See profile.) Disgusted and in need of some release, I fired up my PS2 and the hedonistic orgy known as "GTA San Andreas". The endorphin rush of using "R2" and tapping the "O" button when surrounded by rival gang members as I "capped their asses" quickly replaced fantasies that could inspire interviews with the Secret Service. As I played, it struck me as odd that all the uproar regarding the game is about a patch that you can download for the PC (ironic) version of the game which allows you to watch 3D characters engaging in lewd and lascivious behavior (Jim Morrison was arrested for that in Dade County, Florida, when he exposed himself on stage)...I mean...I think the media and the pundits really missed the ball on this one. What's offensive is that even without the patch, kids should not be playing this game! It's so violent and morally twisted that unless you "get it", it could cause you to grow up with a totally messed up value system. (BTW, I've not once physically accosted or injured anyone a la Bugs, Wile E., Tom & Jerry) Even worse, according to the Christian Right, kid's might begin to think that sex is ok. This one confuses the hell out of me. Violence and gore is less likely to corrupt young minds than sex? For a group that was commanded to "go forth and multiply" and "Thou shalt not kill", I think they got this one backwards. Of course, this is the same group that fought like hell to keep a brain-dead woman alive, rather than allow her to go peacefully into the afterlife that the new testament tells them they should be longing for. It's almost as though they're scared to die. Then again, knowing about the inside of religious organizations as I do, I'd be pretty freaking bummed to know that I was going to be spending eternity with some of them. Back to the point: when will parents stop asking the media to take responsibility for what their kids are exposed to? Freakin' get a grip. Should the media just serve up Barny TV, Movies, and Music 24/7? Hmmm...maybe "Idiot" might learn how to play nice with groups of Americans that didn't vote for him...you know...like respond with some degree of urgency when they're in crisis.

See the theme here? Protection. I guess the real question is what are we protecting ourselves from? Maybe even more important: who is protecting us and is it really "them" that we need protecting from? Maybe we should invest more confidence in our own abilities to protect our selves (and our children) than to let someone we barely know, identify what is a threat and what isn't. We have brains and to me that dictates that we don't have to behave like sheep.

Killer and I watched the second to last episode for the season of Entourage tonight. You gotta love Ari "Let's hug it out, bitch" Gold. He gets fired from the agency and suddenly his world goes into "The Spin". Cell phone cut off, $80,000 car taken away, guards keeping him from getting back into his office. He, in a way, grabs his ground...confirms his assistant's loyalty...gets a bottle of Jack (comfort food)...and goes home to his $3,000,000 house and beautiful wife. If you haven't seen the show, you gotta watch it at least once. Jeremy Piven is priceless.

Day One Post One

My girlfriend Killer has been sitting here with me as I start this. She's addicted to blogs. Reads them every day at work. I've actually only checked out a couple and have avoided the addiction.

Then came last week. She and I went to a Raven's preseason game. We were late to the game because of traffic, so I missed seeing the starters play. Then to top it off, as if all the nonsense in the wake of Katrina wasn't enough, I spent $3.36 per gallon for gas. I was infuriated. Enough so, that I think I scared Killer a little. I was ballistic. The next day I was working in front of the TV watching CNN (my start-up just bombed) and I replied to one of Jack Cafferty's daily questions. It was carthartic. I felt relieved. Most of all, Killer has finally come out of hiding since I seem less threatening.

Soooo...I guess you could say this is a form of therapy for me. God only knows if I'll keep up with this or what. NOTE: I've never been a person of routine so I don't think the odds for this are great. But we'll see. If anyone does actually read this, then cool. If not, then I'm still having my therapy...