Guns!

I hate the gun argument that is going on in our country right now.  I am a supporter of President Obama, but I think he is wasting a lot of political capital by fighting this battle.  The appropriate place to discuss gun violence is not on a legal level, but a cultural level. I believe guns--any kind of guns--should be obtainable by a U.S. citizen. I also believe that drugs--any kind of drugs--should also be obtainable. Prostitution should be legal. Anyone--documented or undocumented--should be allowed to work and live in our country, visa or no visa. Gay marriage, straight marriage, and polygamous marriages should be legal. Abortion should be legal. Private schools should be able to teach whatever gobbledy gook they want, but they should receive no public funding, including bussing. Churches should be able to teach whatever gobbledy gook they want, but--like any business--should have to pay taxes.

In civil matters, the best way to change things is through social engineering, not laws. The law should always respect an individual's rights to pursue happiness, and make their own decisions, however dubious. Laws should protect individuals against discrimination, and should not only promote equality, but also justice.

In the areas I have mentioned above, any change a single citizen or group of citizens would like to see effected cannot be effected legislatively. We are a stubborn people. We fetishize violence. We are macho. We are backwards in some very real ways. We are reactionary. In many ways, gun rights activists are like teenagers: the more you nag them about their transgressions, the more they love their transgressions. The more you legislate their behavior, the more they fantasize about their role as some sort of revolutionary hold out.

Read 'Nudge' by Cass Sunstein. That is how social change of this variety effected. The culture must change, and then the guns will fall away. The culture changes--in regards such as this--through conversation, not laws.

I would much rather see President Obama spending his political capital on economic justice and social justice (positive actions), rather than spending his capital on legislating behavior (negative actions).

After all, it was he who opined that the constitution was a list of negative rights (things the government couldn't do to you) rather than positive rights (things the government could do for you).

Let's see more of that.

All of that being said, I think all of the president's executive orders on gun violence (abhorred by the right) were completely reasonable, and totally underwhelming.

"So You Want to Be a Writer?", By Charles Bukowski

As annoying as his many disciples and wannabes can be, Bukowski understood the demon. I'm grateful to him for that.




h/t Andrew Sullivan.

Of Antidepressants and Social Stigmas

I have a mental illness. Were I to say ‘I have high blood pressure’ or ‘I wear glasses’, you would have a vastly different reaction, even though all of these issues are essentially the same: something about my physiology needs aid in order to function properly.  We humans are made of matter. Variations appear in our form because our development is guided by evolution. Some variations can be beneficial, some can be hindrances. A person must be evaluated as a whole, not solely by variations from some socially constructed norm. All things considered, the need for glasses, blood pressure medication, or antidepressants do not make a person’s worth void. In fact, they may enhance a person’s worth, because they provide a special perspective on things that someone conforming more strictly to that socially constructed norm will not have access to.

In the movies, and in books, to ‘come out’ as a gay person in virtually any day in our society’s history has been to court disaster, but thankfully, the stigma is waning. This is due to the bravery of those who dared to come out, and the mass exposure therapy such action has provided our society. Society is naturally conservative, you see, and progress has to be made piece-by-piece.  There is so much stigma surrounding mental illness. Those of us with mental illness often feel it is something we need to conceal in order to ‘pass’. But 1 in 4 people in the U.S. have some kind of mental illness, and the services and support available to those with mental illness are completely inadequate. These services and support systems will not improve until the public possesses a better understanding of what it means to be mentally ill, and the public will not possess that understanding until those of us with mental illness let them know, first hand.  To many of the public, mental illness = school shootings and straightjackets. In reality, there are as many variations in the way mental illness manifests as there are people. More often than not, the effects are subtle.

They appeared subtle in my case. I could have easily continued to pass as ‘quirky’, but doing so would have required an amount of effort to simply maintain that a person should probably never have to put forth. Don’t get me wrong: the years of maintaining I did were highly informative and character building, but had I accepted earlier on what I needed to do and to accept to be as healthy as possible, and had I the courage to ignore the stigma attached to what I needed to do and to accept, I would gladly have done it.  The combination of medication and talk therapy have been wonderful for me; when my therapist informed me that ‘happiness is available to you’, it was like a revelation. I had internalized the notion that it was not, and that I would always be in some kind of pain. I romanticized struggle in order to make it more palatable. I still believe struggle is the only way to growth, but there is a point where struggling becomes needless suffering, and that is something that has to be avoided.

My own stigmas about what it means to be mentally ill kept me from pursuing treatment, or even allowing myself to accept what I knew deep inside to be true.  How many more people are out there trying to ‘go it alone’ with their mental illness because of their own internalized stigmas? I can’t tell you how much better I feel. You really don’t know how unhealthy you were until you become healthy. When I look back over the terrain of my past, I see a craggy, ominous country. It was definitely a huge journey. With medication, and talk therapy, I can look forward to more manageable country: there are still cracks and crevices and other dark spots on the horizon, but I am better equipped to deal with them.

As someone who has spent a lot of effort in the past few years discussing and organizing on the need for reforms in our mental health system, I felt consistency required that I be forthright about my own stake in this issue, and my own struggles with it.  If my ‘coming out’ makes it easier for another person to do so—and to help decrease the stigma associated with mental illness—then I am happy to do it.

Backwards Anniversary

At some point in the future
On this day, I will be dead.
I will not die on this day
(I promise, I will never die
in February)
But on this day
I will be dead.

I will be dead in February,
I will be dead in March.
I will be dead on Valentine's Day,
I will be dead on my birthday.
I won't be coming home for Christmas,
but I will be dead.

At some future point,
Everyone who knows me as a living person
will also be dead.
At some point, everyone who remembers me--
in whatever way people might remember me--
will also be dead.

All of my conceits, all of my schemes,
All of my loves and my meager humilities,
they will all be forgotten.

For now, however, I have a chihuahua
on my lap, a laptop balanced on my knee,
I smell like pachoulli, and there is caffeine
coursing through my veins.

There is classical music--I recognize very
few pieces by name--on the radio,
And I am still a little sweaty, still recovering
from a little virus that ambushed me
a few days back.

I celebrate this backwards anniversary
by sweating,
and maybe I'll have another cup of tea
before I head to work, tempting fate again
by using our interstate highway system.

But, no worries, it's still February.
So I know I'm safe.

"Unless He Has His Freedom"

I posted a picture of Malcolm X on my Facebook page accompanied by one of his quotations: "You can't separate peace from freedom, because nobody can have peace unless he has his freedom". I immediately received an instant message from a...I'm not sure 'well meaning' is the right word...let's say 'generally polite' tea party sympathizer I know from high school.

"I find it hard that the guy with lenin on his cover page believes in freedom". He said.

It is true that I have a picture of Lenin as my cover page image, but I see no contradiction in a respect for Lenin and a belief in freedom. That is a conversation for another blog post, however, because the bottom line of my old acquaintance's argument was that how can I--a leftist--believe in freedom? After all, I voted for President Obama, and isn't he a Marxist? Isn't Marxism the absolute opposite of freedom?

If only President Obama were a Marxist.

President Obama is not a Marxist, and Marxism is not the opposite of freedom. If anything, Marxism--when fused with humanism--becomes synonymous with freedom.

When a right-wing American talks about freedom, they mean, essentially, allowing people to be left to their own devices. To a right wing American, a list of freedoms would be a list of things the government is not allowed to do to you, or to do for you.

That's all well and good as far as it goes, but the assumption that government is essentially malevolent, and that our class system is benevolent and naturally inclined to reward merit where it lies, is deeply flawed. 

To steal from a piece I wrote in January entitled 'The Owners Are Getting Scared":

"You are likely to die in the class you are born into. Inherited wealth gives a person an unfair advantage. Being born into a privileged class gives a person an unfair advantage.Yes, a person can rise from the bottom to the top, but what do they have to become to do so? What do they have to sacrifice? I guarantee you a privileged person who rose to the same level did not sacrifice as much. And what if you don't have the killer instinct? What if you just want to live a simple life, and not participate in the rat race? Should you have to work so hard? Yes, the man born with sand bags tied around his legs can still hypothetically 'win the race', but why not take off those sand bags and see how he does? Why not give him the option of not even running the damned pointless thing in the first place?"

True freedom is not available in the United States. Not yet. As the much maligned and misunderstood Lenin put it:  

“Freedom in capitalist society always remains about the same as it was in ancient Greek republics: Freedom for slave owners.” 

Those of us in the United States who are poor are free to survive, but only just. We are free to pour our labor into machines we do not own to create products for the truly free to sell, and to gain profit from. We are free to have as many children as the labor force requires, but we are not free to be parents to those children, because capitalism is an enemy of families. In capitalism, families are production units, pumping out as many additional units as the system requires to secure the privilege of those who run the system. When we are used up, we can go ahead and die.

That is not freedom. And because that is not freedom, there will be no peace. Neither should there be.

Cats and Dogs

"I have no active dislike for dogs. . . but for the cat I have entertained a particular respect and affection ever since the earliest days of my infancy. In its flawless grace and superior self-sufficiency I have seen a symbol of the perfect beauty and bland impersonality of the universe itself, objectively considered; and in its air of silent mystery there resides for me all the wonder and fascination of the unknown. The dog appeals to cheap and facile emotions; the cat to the deepest founts of imagination and cosmic perception in the human mind." - H.P. Lovecraft

  I tend to agree with this sentiment completely, although, I think I may finally understand you dog people. I can't exactly describe why, but I love my little chihuahua to death. It's true he's nearly comatose most of the time, but I think that's part of his charm. I look forward to seeing him when I get home from work, and I talk to him like I would a person, and I think I might take his opinion more seriously than I take other people's opinions. Schopey's a solid dude, and way more together than I would be if someone had surgically removed my balls. 

 

To The World, From A Shelter Worker

Dear World,

The people who sleep in our shelter are not bums. They are not losers or loafers looking for a handout. They are soldiers who are fighting for their lives.

They are fighting in a war that is as old as mankind itself: the war is being fought over justice.

If you want to get the best possible picture of who us shelter workers are and what we do, maybe it would be best to imagine trench warfare in World War I. Our clients are the soldiers in the trenches--some of them don't even realize they are in battle--and we are the red cross. We are there to support them in their battle, to understand the nature of their wounds--wounds that were caused or exacerbated by an unjust system, have no doubt about that--and to ultimately support them on their way to an individual victory (housing and stability) and to a collective victory (justice).

Like the soldiers and support workers in war, we have to have faith that this is a battle that can be won. We have to believe that by raising enough awareness, and providing enough of the right kind of support to the soldiers on the front lines, we can make a positive and lasting change in the lives of each of the residents in our shelters, and can permanently improve the lives of those suffering from poverty.

I am writing this letter from the United States of America. We are one of the richest countries in the world, and many of our fellow citizens live beneath the poverty line. They sleep under bridges. They suffer from physiological conditions that could be eliminated or managed if they were only properly cared for. We have a lot of work to do in the United States.

We have a lot of work to do the world over, and that work has to begin by changing the way we look at poverty, homelessness, justice and equality.

There is a war on. Where do you stand?

Sincerely,

A Shelter Worker

Morning Inventory

I wake up this morning glad for breakfast and dinner (I often skip lunch)
Glad for waking up, glad for showers, glad for brushing my teeth.
I am glad for the sound of kids in the next room playing (because they usually get up before me)
Glad for the smell of coffee, even though I can't drink it because of my ulcers.

I wake up glad for my weekly therapy session. Glad for the morning lexapro and b12 supplement.
Glad for the 10 wimpy push-ups, glad for tying my tie on the week-day, and glad for my t-shirt
on the weekend. Glad for my pajamas, glad for the chihuahua on my lap, glad for the kiss from my wife. Glad for the every now and then fight.

I am glad that my job requires that I compose a monthly report. I am glad for each chewed fingernail, each shave, each papercut, each shit and piss, each valerian pill at bed time, each orgasm (alone or with a friend), and each song I sing (alone or with a friend). I am glad for valentine's day, Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and every birthday. I am glad every time I fill up the tank.

These irregular and regular landmarks are the things that make up my life, and each time I hit one of these landmarks brings me closer to the last one. Every time I hug my kids brings me closer to the last time I will hug my kids. Every time I pet my dog, make love to my wife, read a book, watch a movie, wash a dish, stand in a line...

I am glad for these events, because without them the scenery would never change, there would be no filters, and it would all be over much too goddamn fast.

This is my new intro song.

Delusions & Successes

The other day I made the following proclamation on Facebook:

"The religious mind cheapens poetry by insisting that it also be literally true; the mountains do not actually hear your cries. Your heart does not tell you who to love. The Sand Man doesn't seduce you to sleep, there are no Gods in heaven, and there is no heaven. Poetry is beautiful because it points to things we cannot describe. It allows us to characterize that which cannot be adequately characterized by plain language. Poetry points to something higher (or lower) without being that higher or lower thing. The lord is truly with us, but that is because the lord is something we have invented."

I believe this statement to be true, but stream of consciousness thinking following the ensuing conversation led me to consider another topic I've been mulling over lately: is a certain degree of delusion necessary for any big success?

Recently my wife and I watched a brief A & E biography on Lenin. According to the narrative it established, no one could have expected him to emerge from the overthrow of the Czar as the leader of a socialist Russia. No one, that is, except for himself. He was regarded as a tool by the Germans, who gleefully shipped him into Russia to help destabilize the new government. He was viewed as an incindiary nut case by the majority of his own marxist party, as well as the opposing marxist party. It was only his own internal, unwavering faith in his own inevitable role as leader of the inevitable revolution that kept him moving.

Another image has been floating around in my mind: a meme that popped up on my tumblr dashboard that I initially saw as only humorous, but began to apply a deeper significance to as time went on. The image shows Kanye West walking past an outdoor diner with his entourage, when someone yells 'No talent!' at him. Kanye responds, 'That doesn't make any sense! I'm Kanye West!'. His response isn't jesting, or self deprecating: it's delivered as a pure, matter-of-fact correction, and it's wonderful. People either love Kanye or hate him, but he has succeeded, and the secret of his success can probably be extracted from that moment.

So, religion cheapens poetry, but is it necessary for some folks on some level? I can tell you, detaching myself from my religious delusions was a painful process, that could have easily ruined me. I believe I am the type of person who has the predisposition for faith; even as an atheist, my first instinct is to instill a lot of significance into dreams, patterns, and coincidences. I still have a strong prayer instinct. There are all kinds of problems with faith-based recovery programs, but many people benefit from them. In these programs, surrender to some kind of higher power is key.

It has been stated by Richard Dawkins and his other horsemen that it is condescending to suggest that oneself may be capable of shedding the vice of faith, but others--presumably 'simpler' folk--may need it. First, many of the religious people I know are far from 'simple'. Many are fare more erudite than myself. But maybe, like me, they are inclined towards faith. Some of them are investing themselves heavily into it, by training to become pastors. The more a person builds on a certain foundation, the less likely they are to abandon it, and the more difficult such an abandonment would be. While another religious characteristic I still possess is the evangelical impulse, I am hesitant to challenge such foundations too thoroughly; partially because it's not really any of my business, and partially because I am beginning to notice the connection between a certain amount of delusion and success.

The world seems to tell those of us with ambition that our ambitions are unrealistic. Foreign looking things scare our essentially conservative nature. We have much more friends and supporters* after we have succeeded than we do before we have succeeded. Therefore to succeed, we need tenacity. We need to believe in ourselves, even if the odds are against us. This kind of faith takes many different forms, but I'm coming to believe it is essential for success.

UPDATE:

As soon as I posted this, an alternate thought occurred to me: Maybe I'm wrong. All kinds of examples flowed into my mind supporting the notion that people generally end up doing what they really want to do (I mean *really* want to do). Maybe it's not delusional at all to expect success that you are willing and possessed to work towards. Maybe the real delusion is to give up on your goals because you internalize the belief that you won't succeed if you work towards them.


*and enemies and detractors...before we succeed, the world gives us something worse than enemies: indifferent and apathetic parties who only naysay and condescend.

January Status Updates

Jan 30: Langston asked to watch star trek as soon as he woke up this morning. I have succeeded as a parent.

Jan 29: Leon trotsky is my spirit brother.

Jan 27: I don't know about you, but i was pretty fucking productive today.

Jan 27: Mopping the floor is one of the most thankless jobs in the world. I guarantee you; even Mother Theresa, The Dalai Llama, and Oprah have walked across a still-wet floor as it was being mopped. If there is a God, and if that God is good, no person who pushes a mop for a living will ever go to hell.

Jan 26: Children are born with an instinct to get themselves in trouble. The job of the parent is to decide whether to teach the child how to get out of or avoid that inevitable trouble altogether, or to teach the child how to elevate that inevitable trouble to an art form.

Jan 25: Jack on Daniel Tosh: "He's a jerk. I want to go on his show and kick him in the balls."

Jan 24: Listening to Catholic radio just now, I heard an advertisement for a 'pro-life plumber'. Why is a plumber's position on abortion a recommendation for their services? Are we afraid the plumber will perform an abortion on our toilet? In that case, wouldn't a pro-choice plumber be even better at the job? What other random political issues should I be tracking for the people I hire to do jobs? I have a pretty good idea what the guy who cuts our grass thinks about immigration, but what about my dentist? Should he have a specific position on the debt ceiling?

Jan 22: Homemade brand chocolate chip ice cream is never a mistake.

Jan 19: It doesn't even matter if the other noises in the house make it hard to hear what he's saying, sometimes it's nice to just have garrison keillor's voice in the background.

Jan 17: A church sign in otr reads 'try jesus: if you don't like it, the devil will gladly take you back." translation: satan will always be there for you.

Jan 17: There are so many wrong answers to the problems of life, and so few right ones. Trying to live morally is a truly humbling endeavor.

Jan 15: Langston was walking through the living room with a full cup of milk, and when some of it spilled he said, "No, milk! Don't do that!" Ah. My kids are cuter than yours.

Jan 15: I don't know why it's considered offensive to call white people 'white bread': it's true that white bread is the least healthy member of the bread family, but it's also the tastiest. Satan would have had an easier time with recruitment if he went around offering folks a nice buttered slice of freshly baked white bread instead of apples. #ruminations over morning toast

Jan 13: The sign in front of the local catholic church reads "may you live every day of your life." i like it.

Jan 8: The only thing i miss about religion is praying for my kids before leaving for work in the morning: i always felt like i was leaving them in good hands (Although it occurs to me now that I am leaving the kids in good hands when I go to work; their mother's hands, and their own hands).

Jan 7: Al Sharpton expends twice the amount of energy formulating a sentence as the average person. It almost seems like the more mundane the statement, the more energy he will invest in making it. Also, it's good that he's gotten into shape, but he's one of those guys who looks weird skinny. That sums up all of my opinions and observations about Al Sharpton.

Jan 7: I think I'm going to start talking to people the way characters from Star Trek: The Next Generation talk to each other. Example: (looks at a wall, adopts a condescending tone of voice) "You know, in humanity's distant past we used to eat paint chips. We don't do that anymore."

Jan 5: One week without energy drinks, and I did it all without Jesus.

Jan 4: Some time last night i think i finally accumulated enough life experience to adequately appreciate e.e. cummings.

Jan 1: My wife is outside working on the car while i make dinner and watch the kids. You know, typical husband/wife stuff.

Learning How To Die

"but learning how to live takes a whole life, and, which may surprise you more, it takes a whole life to learn how to die." ~ Seneca
 

This won't come as a surprise to anyone who reads this blog regularly, but today I want to write to you about death.

The above passage from Seneca rings very true to me, and when my head is on straight, death--not in a morbid way--is never far from my thoughts.  The other day my kids were talking about death. A beloved family member had recently died, and my 8 year old said, 'I wish I could make a machine that would stop people from dying'. My 11 year old responded, 'People have to die though. The world would become crowded otherwise. It's nature's way of keeping our species alive'.

Two totally different interpretations there. One, emotional, the other, coldly rational. I sympathize with both.

Just a few days before I was commenting to a friend about the necessity of the 'old order' to die so that the new order could move the human project forward. Each generation is only good for so much progress before it becomes a hindrance to greater progress. Conservativism seeps into all of our bones after a while.

Living forever has never seemed to be the goal to me. It is tragic when young people die, or when people die tragically, or with important unresolved issues. When old people die of normal human causes, and seem to have left a good legacy behind them, and have gone in relative peace, the affair seems bittersweet: the point of life doesn't seem to be to live long, but to live well. With this consideration, even a person who does not make it into ripe old age can be seen not necessarily as a tragedy when they pass, but can also possess something of a bittersweet quality.

Of course, that's easy for me to say when I am not talking about the death of someone incredibly close to me: of course I will always appreciate the sweetness of knowing great, beautiful people, but the closer the person comes to you, the younger they are, and the uglier the circumstances of their departure, the stronger the bitterness will no doubt be. May we all be spared such bitterness.

But we all have to die, and it shouldn't surprise us. It's something that seems healthy to keep in our minds, to keep us kind, to keep us charitable, to keep us focused. Seneca has to be right about the amount of time it will take us to adequately prepare for that moment, and in so doing, may we also learn how to live in the process.

 

The Owners Are Getting Scared

I work at a homeless shelter. Tonight at dinner, as I sat at our service desk and watched all of the people eat, and talk, and laugh, I remembered how disturbed one of my neighbors was when he heard about our efforts to ensure that the residents of our shelter--and all shelters--got out and voted. My neighbor--white, christian, male, conservative, mid-fifties--went from disturbed to downright offended when President Obama won re-election, and the county that it all seemed to come down to was our county, Hamilton County, Ohio. To my neighbor, by bringing local community organizers into our shelter to have residents sign voting pledges, by have state agencies come in to help our residents register to vote, we were essentially delivering the country to President Obama.

"We didn't tell them who to vote for". I said.

"Of course you knew who they were going to vote for. Who gave them the free cell phone?" he said.

Ah, the so-called 'Obamaphone'. Conservatives hate it. To them, it smacks of decadence, and misguided liberal spending. In reality, it's a very practical investment for our society to make. Newt Gingrich talked about replacing the safety net with a trampoline: we live in a very high-tech world, and in order to function in this world, we have to be plugged in. If we expect disenfranchised folks to even have a chance at competing, wouldn't they also have to be plugged in? In the shelter business, we are about helping people get housing, but we're also about helping people eliminate barriers to housing. If our residents have cell phones, that cuts out a lot of walking time, and a lot of paper work. Ultimately, it should help them get back on their feet, and that is something we all want.

"People who are on the government tit shouldn't be allowed to vote". he said.

"If you believe that, then no C.E.O. in the country should be allowed to vote." I said, always the troublemaker.

"The rich worked for what they've got. The people who stay at your shelter have been made soft by the system. " He said.

My response: You are likely to die in the class you are born into. Inherited wealth gives a person an unfair advantage. Being born into a privileged class gives a person an unfair advantage.Yes, a person can rise from the bottom to the top, but what do they have to become to do so? What do they have to sacrifice? I guarantee you a privileged person who rose to the same level did not sacrifice as much. And what if you don't have the killer instinct? What if you just want to live a simple life, and not participate in the rat race? Should you have to work so hard? Yes, the man born with sand bags tied around his legs can still hypothetically 'win the race', but why not take off those sand bags and see how he does? Why not give him the option of not even running the damned pointless thing in the first place?

It's a frustrating conversation, especially when you consider that my neighbor should be on my side on this: he is not one of the owners of this society. At best, he only serves as one of the owner's many attack dogs, operating under the illusion that 'if only I work hard enough, I too can join the ranks of the owners'. But dogs cannot become men.

The point is, this argument about who should and shouldn't be allowed to vote is coming up more and more. After Romney lost what he and his followers had deluded themselves into believing would be a great white landslide (no way colored and poor folk will vote again like they did last time!), they started talking about restricting the vote.

But it's too late for that. Us poor people, Us women, Us black people, Us latino people, Us asian people, us gay people, us disabled people, Us non-religious people--we're voting. We're being heard. And if you want to say we are just voting for people who are promoting our best interests, then you're right: but tell me that the rich in this country don't do the same thing.

And there are more of us.

The owners are getting scared.

And they should be.

Ignore the Noise; Do the Work

My thoughts have been mainly introspective lately. It's true that I've recently formed a study group to read Marx's Capital in one year, and that Marx is inherently about the world and other people, but I don't have much to say to you about that. I'm just reading, talking to other people about what I'm reading, and percolating.

This year's motto is going to be 'ignore the noise; do the work'. That literally translates into focusing on my job and my responsibilities to my family, but also metaphorically translates into 'do the personal work'. I've got some spiritual and emotional growing to do, and I've got to give myself some space to do it in.

One of the concepts that helped me quit drinking was the concept of 'the booze brain'. The idea that there was this ever-whispering voice constantly trying to sabotage my own sobriety and masquerading as my own mind, helped me dislocate myself from my disease. If I found myself in the midst of a clever rationalization I would ask myself, 'does this line of thinking end up with me drinking?', and if the answer was 'yes', I would know that it was not my own brain that was thinking, but my booze brain.

I have come to realize that the booze brain has many other cousins, and each can throw up a distracting clamor that prevents one from 'doing the work'.

'The work', by the way, is whatever is central to your character. It's whatever you need to do to grow, to find peace, to progress towards self actualization. It can be your job, It can be your relationship with others. It can be reading a book, riding a bike, or even washing the dishes. It's the product of your labor, a thing that you would do for the hell of it, even if no money or status were attached to it (maybe there is some Marx slipping in there). I would like to do things for their own sake, 'for the hell of it'. I would like to do things prayerfully, and seriously. Too often, I am trying to ride two horses with one ass.

'The noise' is the other horse. It's the thoughts that tempt you away from what you know you should be doing, or drain them of their joy. The noise is the self-doubt, the naysayers, the shiny thing that distracts you from your goals.

That's all. I get cranky if I go too long without writing something, so here's something.

How Much Must We Suffer?

When you have a mental illness, you suffer. Every day can be a struggle. To be alive, to function, to focus on basic tasks...all of these things can look and feel like steep mountain climbs.

The medical establishment can offer you medications, however, that might mute your suffering. I have heard many creative individuals who view their illness as an intricate element of their powers and very being voice concerns over whether the bargain--we'll take away a bit of the pain, but you may end up giving up a bit of yourself--is worth taking.

How much suffering is too much? When does struggling lead to suffering?

Struggle is the currency of personal growth. Whether it be in the gym, at your job, in your relationships, or acquiring any kind of skill, you will struggle. Suffering is the biproduct of struggle. Suffering is struggle without resolution. As you struggle to lift weights outside of your existing comfort zone, your muscles suffer. As you attempt to understand a new and complicated philosophical model, your mind suffers. Your spirit suffers. Eventually, however, a membrane breaks: you come out the other side, and suddenly that philosophical model--those weights--are within your range of capability.

Many artists have mental illness, and many of them do not medicate because they feel it will cause their art to suffer. Many artists also commit suicide, and what causes art to suffer more than the death of the artist?

Maybe an artist would suggest that they must suffer, because the world needs art. The world needs 'executive madness'. All of our best leaders have had at least a touch of this madness. If they all were to go on mood stabilizers, would progress halt? Is the art, or the leadership, or the vision, worth the cost of the life of the artist or the leader or the visionary? It's a tough call. On an even simpler level, are we really living if we are not experiencing life to our fullest capability?

I think of the Christian belief that Jesus had to suffer on the cross in order that mankind might be forgiven of our collective sins. The rationale and the mechanics of this set-up are a mess, but the fundamental Christian understanding that suffering must accompany struggle, and that only through struggle can something higher be obtained appear to be self-evidently true. Whether or not the suffering can be done vicariously is a different issue entirely, which would need to be explored separately. This Christian core also seems to accept the idea that there is an acceptable amount of human life that might be sacrificed for a higher creative end; be it Jesus dying so that man might be redeemed, or the artist dying so that man might be raised up.

The question of acceptable suffering also looks different when you look at mental illness through the (appropriate) lens of medical health; how much suffering would you allow yourself to experience if you had cancer or irritable bowel syndrome? What higher purpose would justify those pains? How much of your individuality would you be sacrificing if you allowed yourself to be alleviated of that suffering?

It's a very complicated question, and it's one that isn't helped by the stigma and misunderstanding that surrounds mental illness. It also isn't helped by one of the dominant themes of our capitalist society: we must always be comfortable. We must always be enjoying ourselves.

Usually, I write for my own illumination: writing helps me hash out what my real feelings are about an issue. Here, I find myself at the end with the same questions I started with. C'est la vie.

Giving God His Propers

We don't really know each other. We have perceptions of each other based on our own experiences, proclivities, hopes, fears, and prejudices. We have 'best guesses' of each other, with varying degrees of accuracy. Like Thomas Aquinas pointed out, our perceptions of each other are like the panels in the eye of a fly: representative--possibly--of one aspect of the being that we perceive, but hardly representative of the whole.

If you misjudge me, I can set you right. But I don't really even totally know myself, so how right can I set you? Our perceptions of ourselves are also 'best guesses'. Perhaps they are more educated guesses; but they're still guesses. Our perceptions of ourselves are based on our own experiences, proclivities, hopes, fears, and prejudices. Our perceptions of ourselves are also like the panels in the eye of a fly, but instead of windows, they are mirrors.

So if you misjudge me, I can try to set you right, but maybe I'm wrong. You have all kinds of reasons to reject my self-interpretation in favor of your own interpretation, because you know deep inside that I possess as many blind spots as you do to interpreting the nature of a being. We are also pattern seeking animals, and it is your method of pattern seeking that has kept you alive all this time.

I am able to rebut your perception of me, because I am right in front of you. Actually, I am not. You're reading something I've written. You could e-mail me, or call me, or visit me, and we could discuss what I've written, and I could tell you what I think is wrong about your reading, and you could tell me what you think is wrong about my writing. Perhaps we'd come up with a synthesis. But I'm alive, I'm in this world, and it is possible to get closer to my original intent than it would be if I were dead, or if it were probable that someone else had written this little piece under my name. Who could even begin to guess the motive of someone who would do something so unprofitable?

God, who is alleged to be much 'bigger' than us, with ways much 'higher', would be much more difficult to perceive. We would do so with our own experiences, proclivities, hopes, fears, and prejudices. Because God is not present to set us right, ultimately our perceptions of God would be manifestations of our own private values, aspirations, wishes and fears. You may refer to a particular holy text or guru as someone or something that might set me right on this, but the same problem that is encountered when examining this text is also present, but compounded. It's compounded by the absence of the author, by the dubiousness of the authorship, by the unlikelihood of the supernatural claims, and by the Outsider's Test For Faith, which, if taken honestly, points directly at the ultimately subjective nature of faith-value.

God is not here to rebut your perception, and it is highly unlikely that God even exists. How much projection can I cast upon a being that is unlikely to exist? A lot more than I can cast upon a being that I know exists, and that's a hell of a lot.

I don't believe in God. I am an atheist. I have also come to realize that non-belief is perhaps the most respectful and appropriate response to any possible gods. If we can't make wholly accurate statements about the motives and actions of others--and even ourselves--then how can we even begin to approach statements about a thing that is alleged to be much 'bigger' and 'higher' than ourselves? Surely, any belief that we state in such a being would ultimately be only a deification of some aspect of ourselves, and isn't that the worst kind of blasphemy?

I don't believe in God, which makes sense for an atheist. But my recommendation to the theist as well--if they truly love their god--is to abandon belief in it. It's the only way to appropriately respect the bigness, highness, and mystery of that potential being. It's the only way, ultimately, to remain open to it.

Merry Christmas!

Enjoy your day. Find somebody you love, and give them a big hug. Be grateful that you're here, because this is it, baby.

Advice for the Mail

Yesterday my son and I walked out to the mailbox to check the mail. He is 11. I am 31. I opened the box, put my hand inside, and drew out a stack of envelopes. A political advertisement. An envelope full of coupons. An envelope that contained a big yellow bag I could use to donate things to a veteran's organization. A plain white envelope which looked like a bill.

I put all the items back.

"You're not going to bring them in?" my son asked.

"No." I said. "They're not interesting enough. I only bring interesting mail into our house. Let's leave them in the box until they become more interesting".

"Jeez." he said. "I'm glad I'm not a piece of mail".

"Spencer" I said--my son's name is Spencer too--"I would always bring you in the house if you were a piece of mail. You are one of the most interesting people I know".

He smiled. It was a tender moment.

But that made me think. Maybe I'm being unfair to the mail. Maybe it would be better if the mail knew my standards. I am writing this piece for the mail, so that it may increase its chances of making it into my house.

1) Don't be a bill.

2) Don't be an envelope containing a big yellow bag I could use to donate things to a veteran's organization. It's not that I dislike veterans, it is just that I am very selfish, and rarely engage in such activities.

3) Don't be an envelope full of coupons. It's not that I don't like saving, it is just that I am lazy, and feel restricted by coupon shopping. I think of grocery shopping as an art. If I have decided to buy JIF peanut butter over Peter Pan peanut butter one day, I want it to be in a fit of inspiration, not because JIF is 25 cents off that day.

4) Do not be a bill.

5) Do not look like you might be a bill.

6) Do not be a political advertisement.

7) Do not be from an organization requesting that I join you. I know the organizations I want to belong to, and I am a member of those organizations.

8) Be a magazine. But not just any magazine--be a magazine I am interested in. I subscribe to many magazines, but not all of them get read. You see, I am a very pretentious man. If you want to get into the house, don't be the Economist or the International Socialist Review. Be MAD magazine, or maybe Playboy. If you are a catalog, be Victoria's Secret, or maybe IKEA. I think they have some really neat stuff.

9) Don't contain Anthrax. Neither the deadly poison nor the band will make it into my house.

10) Be a package from Amazon. Even if it is not addressed to me, I will open it. I love getting packages in the mail.

11) Be a movie from Netflix, but not a hoity-toity movie that I ordered because I thought it would give me culture. Be something funny, or maybe a disc from a BBC series. BBC has some really funny shows.

12) Be a piece of my neighbor's mail. I think they're up to something, but I'm not sure what. I will take all the intelligence I can get.

13) Be a long lost letter from my friend Ryan. We were exchanging letters before he died, and I never got the response to the last letter I sent him. I loved him, and I miss him. I think reading his last letter would be very comforting to me.

"You only get to see the light/Just one time in your life."

3 Essential Woody Allen Quotes

I often declare--to the scoffs and rolled eyes of friends, family, and random passers-by--that Woody Allen is the modern world's answer to William Shakespeare. He's not a shoddy answer either; who else traffics in comedy and tragedy, big and ambiguous morality, ghosts, lust, crime, and punishment in as entertaining, consistent, and concise a way as Woody? Only the bard, and he was nowhere near as prolific. He also didn't know anything about jazz.

Woody--like Shakespeare--is also endlessly quotable. Here are the three Woody Allen quotes that I find lend themselves best to a good, robust life.

The first quote is about attendance:

1) "80 percent of success is showing up."

The second quote is about how to conduct yourself once you get there:

2) "Talent is luck. The important thing in life is courage".



The third quote is about perspective:

3) "To you I'm an atheist. To God, I'm the loyal Opposition" - from Stardust Memories