Here I am, sitting up late at night once again thinking about the past. This I often find myself doing. I suppose it's because of the lack of things to think about at the moment. The past comes to me and I often look at moments that I look at often. I think about “being over” things, but I never really am. It's pretty much impossible to be. There is a set of moments that I think about, with some frequency when in this state of contemplation. I have decided that what I feel is not regret. It's the feeling of knowing that an opportunity was lost. And was what was lost worth being where I am now? I'm not sure. Many good things have happened since, but who knows what would have happened. I realize that the opportunity lost was what I am still looking for. I guess that makes it harder, that's why it keeps me up late at night when I should be catching up on fourteen nights of lost and uneasy sleep.
Sitting here wondering about all of this makes me feel that I'm not in the right place. Be it physically or mentally. I am certainly somewhere, regardless. Too bad the somewhere is a place that I need to get out of as soon as possible. It's almost an addiction. Terrible and soothing. Mindless. I suppose that's the problem. I have nowhere to think. No time to remember me. No time for my mind to wander beyond the next twenty-four hours. My feet move constantly, but that's only life proving to me that it still exists and it's happening all the time.
The past two weeks often found me seeing where I was from a different perspective from the one that I usually find myself in. I noticed the greens of the trees, the songs of birds, the needle covered logs, the intricacies of sound, the pain in my feet. Things we get used to ignoring. I found my mind wandering to the simple. Where I wished to be. My life is really easy, at least for now. I have people thinking for me, which makes it harder to find myself after all is quiet, smoldering. There's a bad metaphor in there.
Well, anyway my glasses and my small computer makes my hands look even bigger and veiny as I type in the darkness on the verge of instant sleep.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Fot it
As of late I have been reading books that are well outside of my areas of study and I have therefore been exposed to new concepts and ideas that to a lot of people are quite elementary. But they really excite me. How giddy am I! Most of the ideas I have been exposed to are within the realms of physics, in which I have no background at all. These new ideas have gotten me thinking a lot about the universe and how things work and how those things came into existence.
The Heisenberg uncertainty principle of quantum mechanics says that the motion of a particle cannot be predicted with absolute certainty, and that much that happens in the universe is random (this statement is pretty much verbatim from Victor J. Stenger's God: The Failed Hypothesis). As I said a lot of this physics stuff is new but I feel I can trust scholars who write books to give me a good overview of these concepts. Being a novice I may be buying into some weird propaganda pushed by the authors but I feel with their credentials and their constant citing of sources that they are not bullshitting too badly. That aside, back to the Heisenberg uncertainty principle. One of the few things I have investigated in this field are the works of Heisenberg and Bohr. I first found out about them after seeing the made for television version of the play Copenhagen which is a semi-fictional account of Heisenberg, Bohr, and Bohr's wife. What really fascinates me with this principle is the idea of randomness. I like the idea that if the universe were to start over again that things would probably be completely different. How awesome! This theory/fact/idea/concept explains so much so easily. It also makes me feel good, good about everything. I find it freeing, oddly liberating. Stenger uses it to disprove god, or God, or gods, or Gods. But it can be used for so many different things. I feel that I am moving beyond even questioning if there is a god or anything that we would consider “supernatural”. Every point and counterpoint that I have read leads me to the conclusion that there is probably no such thing as the supernatural and therefore nothing but the universe controlling the universe. That said, because of Heisenberg's uncertainty principle nothing in and of itself is controlling the universe. The universe is not controlled. It contains processes that as far as we know are universal per say, and seem to follow several “laws”. How cool is that? The constant in the universe is change. That said, not all things change. Atoms are always atoms, but may constitute different matter. The speed of light in a vacuum is always what it is. That isn't to say that there isn't a process that contradicts these constants, but with the information and technology that we have we have no reason to think otherwise.
I think I am infatuated with science. I know exactly why. Science is good at explaining things that happen. But, and a big BUT, it is (or should) always willing to be proven otherwise. As we say in archaeology (a so called soft science), we take what we find and observe, and from the data we give the best possible answer we can at that time. That is not to say we cannot be refuted or our findings reinterpreted in the future, but that (hopefully) we are doing our best with the information we have from which we can derive the best possible explanation. It is my hope as a scientist that I will always be open to being proven wrong. I think that is the best quality of a rational human being as well as any scientist trying to find the illusive thing we call the truth.
So how does randomness make me feel good? What it does is just further support what I already think about my own life. I do not have to do anything. There is nothing dictating what it is that I do. I am lucky to be alive. I choose what I want to do or not do. But because of culture and the rise of complex societies I have to stay within certain boundaries to enjoy my life. Randomness also makes me laugh at homo sapiens sapiens even more than I already do. I do not deny that in the context of this planet we are special, because we certainly are. We are the first animals (as far as we know) to develop a super sense of self and what is often defined a consciousness. That specialness aside, it is funny to see our evolution as random. There is no scientific reason for our existence. We are purposeless and meaningless within the universal context. At this I chuckle (can't you just hear it?). That is so liberating! Or at least it should be, but again culture and our specialness gets in the way. We're lucky to be here, but think of it not as in your personal situation, but in the sense that we are lucky that the universe has come together in a way that allows us to evolve and to the extent we have! It's so basic, it's wonderful. And I'm sure that's why people have a hard time coming to grips with the fact that there may be nothing more to humans than exactly what we see. We might just be naked apes with oversized sex organs know as brains. And then, and then! When you look at the essence of every process we can examine none of them require any property or intervention by en entity or substance we cannot account for. Dark matter may be an exception, but even that I starting to become less dark.
Why are we here? Are we alone in the universe? Is life worth living? Who cares? I seem to care less and less. I feel that it is not why I am here, but what I do while I am here. I figure if I can't make this world a better place, I might as well try to not make it worse. As a scientist I have to as why question all the time, and that makes sense. But why am I here? is not one of them, and I think that makes sense. That is what religion does, and them fucks everything else up in the process. I think people fear science because it doesn't quantify morality. It has no opinion one way or another. It simply presents its findings and allows one to interpret those findings. A friend of mine with whom I have these sorts of discussions with at least once a month calls science a religion and that one day the spiritual world and the scientific world will become one. Nope. Not as long as no spiritual being is needed to complete a process. The comparison is not a “same book different page” argument as much as it is a “different book different oceans”. The fact that one can explain the other with evidence that is tangible but not vise-versa is the closest one can get to trumping the other. And unlike religion or spirituality, science isn't (or shouldn't be) 100%. One should always be at the most 99%. Religion is often 100%. I really don't want to discuss religion because I want to be over it. But I never will be.
Randomness! Yes, randomness. It's just cool. I can't really describe how it makes me feel. Humbled I think. Though any of my friends would laugh at me self-labeling to such an extent. I think that when one comes to conclusions that make life a little simpler(?) it is easier to deal with other things that one has to deal with. Worries become easier to deal with when not feeling an obligation to the intangible or unbelievable. I feel that I can focus on myself as a person and my interaction with others. That may be the thing I am wost at, or have the least experience with. I have decided to change who I am, constantly. Though not sea changes so much as little pieces of me that I know need work. I feel that I am more myself than I have been in a while. I'm ok with the universe, it's the world that kills me.
Nothing has to be. There is no inevitable. Not in the human realm anyway. The sun will always come up, the moon will always wax and wain, until the earth finally fizzles away, which is hope is a beautiful moment. The sun will expand, swallow the earth, the moon and all of the planets. Then there'll be little left of what humans have done. Our legacy will be the billions of waves we have sent off into space that may someday be heard, or interpreted by something that is nothing like us. Or they will just go on forever, chasing the edge of the universe into deep time where there may be things we can never know, and may be better for it.
The Heisenberg uncertainty principle of quantum mechanics says that the motion of a particle cannot be predicted with absolute certainty, and that much that happens in the universe is random (this statement is pretty much verbatim from Victor J. Stenger's God: The Failed Hypothesis). As I said a lot of this physics stuff is new but I feel I can trust scholars who write books to give me a good overview of these concepts. Being a novice I may be buying into some weird propaganda pushed by the authors but I feel with their credentials and their constant citing of sources that they are not bullshitting too badly. That aside, back to the Heisenberg uncertainty principle. One of the few things I have investigated in this field are the works of Heisenberg and Bohr. I first found out about them after seeing the made for television version of the play Copenhagen which is a semi-fictional account of Heisenberg, Bohr, and Bohr's wife. What really fascinates me with this principle is the idea of randomness. I like the idea that if the universe were to start over again that things would probably be completely different. How awesome! This theory/fact/idea/concept explains so much so easily. It also makes me feel good, good about everything. I find it freeing, oddly liberating. Stenger uses it to disprove god, or God, or gods, or Gods. But it can be used for so many different things. I feel that I am moving beyond even questioning if there is a god or anything that we would consider “supernatural”. Every point and counterpoint that I have read leads me to the conclusion that there is probably no such thing as the supernatural and therefore nothing but the universe controlling the universe. That said, because of Heisenberg's uncertainty principle nothing in and of itself is controlling the universe. The universe is not controlled. It contains processes that as far as we know are universal per say, and seem to follow several “laws”. How cool is that? The constant in the universe is change. That said, not all things change. Atoms are always atoms, but may constitute different matter. The speed of light in a vacuum is always what it is. That isn't to say that there isn't a process that contradicts these constants, but with the information and technology that we have we have no reason to think otherwise.
I think I am infatuated with science. I know exactly why. Science is good at explaining things that happen. But, and a big BUT, it is (or should) always willing to be proven otherwise. As we say in archaeology (a so called soft science), we take what we find and observe, and from the data we give the best possible answer we can at that time. That is not to say we cannot be refuted or our findings reinterpreted in the future, but that (hopefully) we are doing our best with the information we have from which we can derive the best possible explanation. It is my hope as a scientist that I will always be open to being proven wrong. I think that is the best quality of a rational human being as well as any scientist trying to find the illusive thing we call the truth.
So how does randomness make me feel good? What it does is just further support what I already think about my own life. I do not have to do anything. There is nothing dictating what it is that I do. I am lucky to be alive. I choose what I want to do or not do. But because of culture and the rise of complex societies I have to stay within certain boundaries to enjoy my life. Randomness also makes me laugh at homo sapiens sapiens even more than I already do. I do not deny that in the context of this planet we are special, because we certainly are. We are the first animals (as far as we know) to develop a super sense of self and what is often defined a consciousness. That specialness aside, it is funny to see our evolution as random. There is no scientific reason for our existence. We are purposeless and meaningless within the universal context. At this I chuckle (can't you just hear it?). That is so liberating! Or at least it should be, but again culture and our specialness gets in the way. We're lucky to be here, but think of it not as in your personal situation, but in the sense that we are lucky that the universe has come together in a way that allows us to evolve and to the extent we have! It's so basic, it's wonderful. And I'm sure that's why people have a hard time coming to grips with the fact that there may be nothing more to humans than exactly what we see. We might just be naked apes with oversized sex organs know as brains. And then, and then! When you look at the essence of every process we can examine none of them require any property or intervention by en entity or substance we cannot account for. Dark matter may be an exception, but even that I starting to become less dark.
Why are we here? Are we alone in the universe? Is life worth living? Who cares? I seem to care less and less. I feel that it is not why I am here, but what I do while I am here. I figure if I can't make this world a better place, I might as well try to not make it worse. As a scientist I have to as why question all the time, and that makes sense. But why am I here? is not one of them, and I think that makes sense. That is what religion does, and them fucks everything else up in the process. I think people fear science because it doesn't quantify morality. It has no opinion one way or another. It simply presents its findings and allows one to interpret those findings. A friend of mine with whom I have these sorts of discussions with at least once a month calls science a religion and that one day the spiritual world and the scientific world will become one. Nope. Not as long as no spiritual being is needed to complete a process. The comparison is not a “same book different page” argument as much as it is a “different book different oceans”. The fact that one can explain the other with evidence that is tangible but not vise-versa is the closest one can get to trumping the other. And unlike religion or spirituality, science isn't (or shouldn't be) 100%. One should always be at the most 99%. Religion is often 100%. I really don't want to discuss religion because I want to be over it. But I never will be.
Randomness! Yes, randomness. It's just cool. I can't really describe how it makes me feel. Humbled I think. Though any of my friends would laugh at me self-labeling to such an extent. I think that when one comes to conclusions that make life a little simpler(?) it is easier to deal with other things that one has to deal with. Worries become easier to deal with when not feeling an obligation to the intangible or unbelievable. I feel that I can focus on myself as a person and my interaction with others. That may be the thing I am wost at, or have the least experience with. I have decided to change who I am, constantly. Though not sea changes so much as little pieces of me that I know need work. I feel that I am more myself than I have been in a while. I'm ok with the universe, it's the world that kills me.
Nothing has to be. There is no inevitable. Not in the human realm anyway. The sun will always come up, the moon will always wax and wain, until the earth finally fizzles away, which is hope is a beautiful moment. The sun will expand, swallow the earth, the moon and all of the planets. Then there'll be little left of what humans have done. Our legacy will be the billions of waves we have sent off into space that may someday be heard, or interpreted by something that is nothing like us. Or they will just go on forever, chasing the edge of the universe into deep time where there may be things we can never know, and may be better for it.
Friday, April 10, 2009
As of late I have been reading a lot of non-fiction science-based books. Lots of things to learn from very smart people who are involved in very different fields than mine. They have prompted me to have many thoughts and ideas of things to write about. One thing I find interesting is how one of the authors I have been reading a lot of often quotes literature and poetry in his works. This may be because of him being British where much of the greatest English writing has come from. I'm speaking of Richard Dawkins, but that is somewhat irrelevant. What I have been thinking of lately is the separation between science and the arts.
My first passions were both artistic. I have never been able to draw or paint or do anything of the sort. That lead me inadvertently towards music and writing. I have had music my whole life. Singing, bell choir, bassoon, bass, drums, guitar, mandolin, banjo, piano. That list is more or less chronological. I have always sung and to this day I sing all the time. I was even caught singing to myself in a very social context he other day which I found quite amusing. It is such a part of my life that I don't think about it. I also play drums a lot too. Well, with my hands on my thighs or my chest. I move my feet and toes to the beats that are only in my head. Not sure where they come from but they're there. I suppose all this music in my head is the result of listening to lots of music and combining ideas which manifest themselves in my foot tapping and humming. Besides writing and playing music I have had words on my side for a long time too. I have never found it difficult to write. It is very easy for me to get my point across in whatever context I find myself writing in. Though I do have a problem with longwindedness. I started writing stories and whatnot as soon as I could write. I won a few prizes for my writing but never did great in english classes. When I discovered poetry around age 11 my life changed. I realized that I didn't have to write in some organized fashion with punctuation. Then when I started reading Bukowski, Ginsberg, and the like everything changed. I began to be able to put down how I saw the world down on paper through abstraction. No rhyming or meter. What came out was in form and in word exactly how I felt and how I wanted to present the material, which was my mind on paper. Up through high school I knew all I wanted to do was write and play music. I often assumed that I would be a musicologist (history of musical origins) or some sort of writer. Well, that didn't work out did it? I discovered something amazing, science.
Science class during my primary education years was a pretty subject for me. Everything made sense. I really liked the scientific method and how scientists came to conclusions. Science was presented to me during those days in such basic terms that it was easy to accept and I never thought much of it. Only that I believed everything about the universe and about biology and the like. Science was never boring to me. That said I always went back to music. Orchestra was more than a class. Pretty much all of my friends were there or in band. We had a ton of fun, which I attribute mostly to my high school orchestras teacher. In us she cultivated a need to expand our musical horizons and look beyond what was on the sheet music or beyond our posture and technique. She encouraged us to listen to blues and rock music, jazz and bluegrass, funk and of course classical. She introduced us to the subversive nature of music which of course sparked many of our interests (i.e. Shostakovich). I credit her for my variant taste in music. Music became a refuge, as did the music wing of the school that was nonetheless entirely separate from the rest of the school.
I can't say I really discovered actual science until my senior year in high school. That year I went to the local technical college instead of going to my high school. My guidance counselor thought it would be best if I did that. It changed my life. That first semester I took four classes. One was philosophy in which I did poorly because I realized how absurd it all was. The one that changed everything was one that I knew nothing about, absolutely nothing, anthropology. That one class eight years ago has gotten me where I am today, for better or worse. It was then where I discovered science for real. We discussed cultural, physical, and archaeological anthropology. I was enthralled. It didn't hurt that the teacher was one of the funniest and best instructors I have ever had. Before my tenure was done at the tech school I had taken all of the anthropology courses they offered. Throughout that time I was still writing music and prose. I was in a few different hardcore bands and was heavily into metal and folk music. I was an odd one. That lead me eventually to Montana for school which then lead me to Arizona for the same. All the while I have been writing music and words. As always. This is my point I suppose. There is no reason for the arts and science to be exclusive.
There are people in both fields who see the other in an unflattering light. Artsy folks see science as removing the mystery and beauty from life, while scientists see artists as delusional fluffs obsessed with the abstract world of feelings. Thankfully there are folks who are both and can appreciate both. I think it is fun that I can play music and write songs while on an archaeological field trip. I think it is great that I can appreciate opera and a finely tuned chainsaw. I really enjoy the fact that my life transcends different parts of the (western) human experience. I can laugh at fart jokes and also have discussions on archaeological theory, often on he same day. And thank goodness. Both sides of my life can take themselves too seriously. I always like watching a friend of mine play music because of how he holds himself. He often plays very somber songs (dirges, ha!) and after he is done there is a nice bit of clapping then he lets out some hilarious comment or anecdote. Brilliance!
I like science because in it we are trying to prove ourselves wrong, more or less. I like music because we need to prove nothing. Unfortunately in both there are folks who don't believe that. Scientists who feel they cannot in anyway be wrong and musicians who spend more time trying to look good or trying to have perfect, logic defying technique and tone.
These two parts of my life balance me. When I come across an amazing archaeological site I often feel as I do when playing a song that I really like. Joy in a different place. I hope that in the future more people can be both drawn and participate in the arts and science. As Richard Dawkins and the late Carl Sagan have said, there is no reason why science cannot have as many artists as religion has had over the centuries. I hope that I am one, and will continue to be one for the rest of my life.
My first passions were both artistic. I have never been able to draw or paint or do anything of the sort. That lead me inadvertently towards music and writing. I have had music my whole life. Singing, bell choir, bassoon, bass, drums, guitar, mandolin, banjo, piano. That list is more or less chronological. I have always sung and to this day I sing all the time. I was even caught singing to myself in a very social context he other day which I found quite amusing. It is such a part of my life that I don't think about it. I also play drums a lot too. Well, with my hands on my thighs or my chest. I move my feet and toes to the beats that are only in my head. Not sure where they come from but they're there. I suppose all this music in my head is the result of listening to lots of music and combining ideas which manifest themselves in my foot tapping and humming. Besides writing and playing music I have had words on my side for a long time too. I have never found it difficult to write. It is very easy for me to get my point across in whatever context I find myself writing in. Though I do have a problem with longwindedness. I started writing stories and whatnot as soon as I could write. I won a few prizes for my writing but never did great in english classes. When I discovered poetry around age 11 my life changed. I realized that I didn't have to write in some organized fashion with punctuation. Then when I started reading Bukowski, Ginsberg, and the like everything changed. I began to be able to put down how I saw the world down on paper through abstraction. No rhyming or meter. What came out was in form and in word exactly how I felt and how I wanted to present the material, which was my mind on paper. Up through high school I knew all I wanted to do was write and play music. I often assumed that I would be a musicologist (history of musical origins) or some sort of writer. Well, that didn't work out did it? I discovered something amazing, science.
Science class during my primary education years was a pretty subject for me. Everything made sense. I really liked the scientific method and how scientists came to conclusions. Science was presented to me during those days in such basic terms that it was easy to accept and I never thought much of it. Only that I believed everything about the universe and about biology and the like. Science was never boring to me. That said I always went back to music. Orchestra was more than a class. Pretty much all of my friends were there or in band. We had a ton of fun, which I attribute mostly to my high school orchestras teacher. In us she cultivated a need to expand our musical horizons and look beyond what was on the sheet music or beyond our posture and technique. She encouraged us to listen to blues and rock music, jazz and bluegrass, funk and of course classical. She introduced us to the subversive nature of music which of course sparked many of our interests (i.e. Shostakovich). I credit her for my variant taste in music. Music became a refuge, as did the music wing of the school that was nonetheless entirely separate from the rest of the school.
I can't say I really discovered actual science until my senior year in high school. That year I went to the local technical college instead of going to my high school. My guidance counselor thought it would be best if I did that. It changed my life. That first semester I took four classes. One was philosophy in which I did poorly because I realized how absurd it all was. The one that changed everything was one that I knew nothing about, absolutely nothing, anthropology. That one class eight years ago has gotten me where I am today, for better or worse. It was then where I discovered science for real. We discussed cultural, physical, and archaeological anthropology. I was enthralled. It didn't hurt that the teacher was one of the funniest and best instructors I have ever had. Before my tenure was done at the tech school I had taken all of the anthropology courses they offered. Throughout that time I was still writing music and prose. I was in a few different hardcore bands and was heavily into metal and folk music. I was an odd one. That lead me eventually to Montana for school which then lead me to Arizona for the same. All the while I have been writing music and words. As always. This is my point I suppose. There is no reason for the arts and science to be exclusive.
There are people in both fields who see the other in an unflattering light. Artsy folks see science as removing the mystery and beauty from life, while scientists see artists as delusional fluffs obsessed with the abstract world of feelings. Thankfully there are folks who are both and can appreciate both. I think it is fun that I can play music and write songs while on an archaeological field trip. I think it is great that I can appreciate opera and a finely tuned chainsaw. I really enjoy the fact that my life transcends different parts of the (western) human experience. I can laugh at fart jokes and also have discussions on archaeological theory, often on he same day. And thank goodness. Both sides of my life can take themselves too seriously. I always like watching a friend of mine play music because of how he holds himself. He often plays very somber songs (dirges, ha!) and after he is done there is a nice bit of clapping then he lets out some hilarious comment or anecdote. Brilliance!
I like science because in it we are trying to prove ourselves wrong, more or less. I like music because we need to prove nothing. Unfortunately in both there are folks who don't believe that. Scientists who feel they cannot in anyway be wrong and musicians who spend more time trying to look good or trying to have perfect, logic defying technique and tone.
These two parts of my life balance me. When I come across an amazing archaeological site I often feel as I do when playing a song that I really like. Joy in a different place. I hope that in the future more people can be both drawn and participate in the arts and science. As Richard Dawkins and the late Carl Sagan have said, there is no reason why science cannot have as many artists as religion has had over the centuries. I hope that I am one, and will continue to be one for the rest of my life.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
viva
To say the least, I listen to a lot of NPR. Again, to say the least there is an immense East Coast bias and a tendency towards the Los Angeles area. As of late almost every story on Morning Edition, All Things Considered, The Diane Reem Show, and every other show is of course related somehow to the economy. With a sarcastically solemn tone I like to use the phrase, “Well, in these economic times...” It's very necessary to preface every statement with it. Just like “well, since September 11th it just hasn't been the same.” As a society we need these temporal markers every once in a while to gauge our situation and present and excusable excuse to justify wherever it is we are. I do have a point.
For a lot of people right now is a hard time. But, that is true everyday in every time somewhere. All in all things aren't that bad. I'm lucky that I have a job that allows me to make a lot of money in a short amount of time and pretty much have job security. What I am trying to get at is the way people are reacting to the economic situation. I have a few points and will expand on them herein.
The first issue I want to examine is the reactions I have heard on the radio from people affected, be it rich business people or now poor, unemployed people. The one theme that pervades in the idea that the apparent economic stability and prosperity would last forever and the fact that is hasn't just isn't fair. To be harsh and realistic, too bad. That's how it goes. If we as a world choose (or are made to believe we choose) to use a market based, capitalist, monetarily driven economy then we must expect to have times when people fail and a lot of them at that. I think it's funny how people are so shocked. This is how it goes. The system that we take part in cannot function without failing and would do so even more if we didn't have a majority of poor, struggling people who are the gears that run the machine. The machine that destroys their lives and worlds. There in a pervasive illusion that in the United States people have the choice to succeed and to be successful, in a market economy. If not choice, then a right. This is the fabrication of the so-called “American dream”, which is still hard to define and probably not as desirable as most people want to believe. This attitude among the “working” class is spread by those in power (corporation, government, and their armies of cronies) so that the people work harder to achieve a goal which isn't really attainable. This leads me to my next point.
Living where I do right now gives me a good chance to look at how a different part of the population of this country lives. They're group number 1 from a previous post. 100% republican most likely and they like machines. Pretty simple pigeonholing. I was talking to a friend of mine the other day about these folks. He also lives in an area where nuevo Western mountain hippies and rednecks co-exist. He was explaining to me how now the rednecks (as he labels all of them) are having to sell their toys, their machines. Things like four-wheelers, boats, snowmobiles, big trucks with huge lifts and tires. The kind of recreational devices that I have no use for and quite honestly loathe. We both sat laughing at all of this. Being hippies ourselves we talked about how we'd much rather walk around in the woods than shred it with the wheels of a box of metal that runs on fossil fuels. (I must caveat this in saying that this topic applies to more than just the so-called rednecks, I am simply using them as an area specific example. I'm sure people of like nature exist from Colorado, to Ohio, to Florida and Maine.) As for a lot of people these machines represent more than just recreation or a hobby, but a status symbol. The big truck think is huge down here. They're totally inefficient and really don't have any use. They're mostly driven on-road and are to big to take on many public land roads. In this economy, eh hem, there are folks selling their four-wheelers and those losing their whole life savings because of bad investing. An interesting dichotomy. Both groups share the same characteristics. They both came across money and decided to take risks and to enhance their social standing by boosting themselves with tangible and visible indicators of their success. Neither group was very smart. They both possessed the illusion that the goods times would last forever. I remember listening to NPR quite a few years ago and hearing some “expert” say something to the effect of “There is no housing bubble, therefore it can't collapse.” HA! Good stuff. I drove past a house yesterday not too far from where I live. A typical example of a house around here. Several trucks in the front and a fence (everyone has a fence). The garage door was open. There is no way you could even walk through the garage. Full of stuff. Above all people value stuff. Or as a good friend of mine says when mocking the name of a store “Country Shit You Don't Need”. So true my friend. One of the issues I hear discussed all the time in the media is the fact that in these economic times people aren't spending money like they were. Oh well. Is that a bad thing? To people who like capitalism and who make money off of people who buy lots of shit, yea it is. All I want to do is have less shit. Our economy and society needs more fiber, to get rid of all the shit. Just because you have money doesn't necessarily mean you need to spend it.
This is a segue.
Another thing I laugh at is how people talk about “cutting back” on expenses. It must be the NPR bias or the fact that I don't live like most Americans, but the stuff they're talking about is still much more excessive than how I live. Or they do things that I have been doing for a long time. I hear often about people not going out to movies or buying cheaper groceries or driving less. Well yeah, of course. I and lots of people I know (and many I don't I'm sure) live like that. It's how we survive. I always try to figure out how to get something fro free or very cheap before I spend any money. A good example is the library. Hell, I use that place all the time. I never buy a book (less shit) or rent a movie. It's silly to me to do either of these things when I have access to a library. Before I had my own computer I went to the library and used the free ones there. And now that I do have my own computer I try to find free wireless wherever I go. Living on the cheap and getting stuff for free is how I have learned to survive and I shake my head when I hear people not doing the things they did before which are all in all superfluous, and the doing some of the things I always do. Living simply is great. Or as simple as one can. I try to be simple but it isn't easy. I still have a car and a few bikes and a bunch of shit I don't need. When I hear what people are doing to cope with these economic times I laugh. “All the things we don't do now that we used to, to save money.” There is nothing wrong with not having a ton of shit and not spending money frivolously. It's good that people are canceling their cable and not going out to eat so much. A lot of people have families who they could spend more time with. Making meals together, doing activities that only involve other people, examining what's important. So much of what we do is total bullshit and it is funny that some people (in NPR land) are starting to see that.
This morning I heard a news article made by a woman who moved with her husband to LA (hell on earth). They ended up having a baby (unexpectedly) and her husband couldn't find a job. Her parents invited them back home where they could live in the woods and live a simple life with a garden and the possibility of jobs that would at least support and very modest lifestyle. She made it sound like such a huge sacrifice and a struggle. I find this odd because if I was in their situation I would be gone back home. I'd be out there planting vegetables, chopping wood and going to my low paying job. It's odd how their idea of a horrible sacrifice is how lots of folks would like to and do live. I guess people aren't used to providing for themselves. Personally I have chosen a path and live in a place that isn't conducive to living such a lifestyle. That isn't to say that I wouldn't like to be there someday. The idea of a young married couple struggling to make it has always had a sort of romantic appeal to me. I think it is because that's how my parents were before my sister and I were born. My dad was a school teacher and my mom worked at a five and dime in southwestern Iowa for a few years. All they had was each other. I hope that these economic times make people realize that what matters is each other. It shouldn't take a drained bank account, a lost job, or relocation to realize this, but if it does then all the better. Viva la recession!
For a lot of people right now is a hard time. But, that is true everyday in every time somewhere. All in all things aren't that bad. I'm lucky that I have a job that allows me to make a lot of money in a short amount of time and pretty much have job security. What I am trying to get at is the way people are reacting to the economic situation. I have a few points and will expand on them herein.
The first issue I want to examine is the reactions I have heard on the radio from people affected, be it rich business people or now poor, unemployed people. The one theme that pervades in the idea that the apparent economic stability and prosperity would last forever and the fact that is hasn't just isn't fair. To be harsh and realistic, too bad. That's how it goes. If we as a world choose (or are made to believe we choose) to use a market based, capitalist, monetarily driven economy then we must expect to have times when people fail and a lot of them at that. I think it's funny how people are so shocked. This is how it goes. The system that we take part in cannot function without failing and would do so even more if we didn't have a majority of poor, struggling people who are the gears that run the machine. The machine that destroys their lives and worlds. There in a pervasive illusion that in the United States people have the choice to succeed and to be successful, in a market economy. If not choice, then a right. This is the fabrication of the so-called “American dream”, which is still hard to define and probably not as desirable as most people want to believe. This attitude among the “working” class is spread by those in power (corporation, government, and their armies of cronies) so that the people work harder to achieve a goal which isn't really attainable. This leads me to my next point.
Living where I do right now gives me a good chance to look at how a different part of the population of this country lives. They're group number 1 from a previous post. 100% republican most likely and they like machines. Pretty simple pigeonholing. I was talking to a friend of mine the other day about these folks. He also lives in an area where nuevo Western mountain hippies and rednecks co-exist. He was explaining to me how now the rednecks (as he labels all of them) are having to sell their toys, their machines. Things like four-wheelers, boats, snowmobiles, big trucks with huge lifts and tires. The kind of recreational devices that I have no use for and quite honestly loathe. We both sat laughing at all of this. Being hippies ourselves we talked about how we'd much rather walk around in the woods than shred it with the wheels of a box of metal that runs on fossil fuels. (I must caveat this in saying that this topic applies to more than just the so-called rednecks, I am simply using them as an area specific example. I'm sure people of like nature exist from Colorado, to Ohio, to Florida and Maine.) As for a lot of people these machines represent more than just recreation or a hobby, but a status symbol. The big truck think is huge down here. They're totally inefficient and really don't have any use. They're mostly driven on-road and are to big to take on many public land roads. In this economy, eh hem, there are folks selling their four-wheelers and those losing their whole life savings because of bad investing. An interesting dichotomy. Both groups share the same characteristics. They both came across money and decided to take risks and to enhance their social standing by boosting themselves with tangible and visible indicators of their success. Neither group was very smart. They both possessed the illusion that the goods times would last forever. I remember listening to NPR quite a few years ago and hearing some “expert” say something to the effect of “There is no housing bubble, therefore it can't collapse.” HA! Good stuff. I drove past a house yesterday not too far from where I live. A typical example of a house around here. Several trucks in the front and a fence (everyone has a fence). The garage door was open. There is no way you could even walk through the garage. Full of stuff. Above all people value stuff. Or as a good friend of mine says when mocking the name of a store “Country Shit You Don't Need”. So true my friend. One of the issues I hear discussed all the time in the media is the fact that in these economic times people aren't spending money like they were. Oh well. Is that a bad thing? To people who like capitalism and who make money off of people who buy lots of shit, yea it is. All I want to do is have less shit. Our economy and society needs more fiber, to get rid of all the shit. Just because you have money doesn't necessarily mean you need to spend it.
This is a segue.
Another thing I laugh at is how people talk about “cutting back” on expenses. It must be the NPR bias or the fact that I don't live like most Americans, but the stuff they're talking about is still much more excessive than how I live. Or they do things that I have been doing for a long time. I hear often about people not going out to movies or buying cheaper groceries or driving less. Well yeah, of course. I and lots of people I know (and many I don't I'm sure) live like that. It's how we survive. I always try to figure out how to get something fro free or very cheap before I spend any money. A good example is the library. Hell, I use that place all the time. I never buy a book (less shit) or rent a movie. It's silly to me to do either of these things when I have access to a library. Before I had my own computer I went to the library and used the free ones there. And now that I do have my own computer I try to find free wireless wherever I go. Living on the cheap and getting stuff for free is how I have learned to survive and I shake my head when I hear people not doing the things they did before which are all in all superfluous, and the doing some of the things I always do. Living simply is great. Or as simple as one can. I try to be simple but it isn't easy. I still have a car and a few bikes and a bunch of shit I don't need. When I hear what people are doing to cope with these economic times I laugh. “All the things we don't do now that we used to, to save money.” There is nothing wrong with not having a ton of shit and not spending money frivolously. It's good that people are canceling their cable and not going out to eat so much. A lot of people have families who they could spend more time with. Making meals together, doing activities that only involve other people, examining what's important. So much of what we do is total bullshit and it is funny that some people (in NPR land) are starting to see that.
This morning I heard a news article made by a woman who moved with her husband to LA (hell on earth). They ended up having a baby (unexpectedly) and her husband couldn't find a job. Her parents invited them back home where they could live in the woods and live a simple life with a garden and the possibility of jobs that would at least support and very modest lifestyle. She made it sound like such a huge sacrifice and a struggle. I find this odd because if I was in their situation I would be gone back home. I'd be out there planting vegetables, chopping wood and going to my low paying job. It's odd how their idea of a horrible sacrifice is how lots of folks would like to and do live. I guess people aren't used to providing for themselves. Personally I have chosen a path and live in a place that isn't conducive to living such a lifestyle. That isn't to say that I wouldn't like to be there someday. The idea of a young married couple struggling to make it has always had a sort of romantic appeal to me. I think it is because that's how my parents were before my sister and I were born. My dad was a school teacher and my mom worked at a five and dime in southwestern Iowa for a few years. All they had was each other. I hope that these economic times make people realize that what matters is each other. It shouldn't take a drained bank account, a lost job, or relocation to realize this, but if it does then all the better. Viva la recession!
Saturday, March 14, 2009
I wrote recently:
The only thing I feel
is that I feel
I can't feel anything
Soft wind through the window
that's how I know you're here
but I guess that's kind of strange
when you're nothing
Can't get much more self-loathing and depressing than that. Might make a good song one of these days. I hate how these posts of late have been more like diary entries but it's what's been on my mind as of late. Something I said to a friend this week made me think of where I am now and of course where I have been. I said “It's the people that make the place.” I do suppose that is why this place I am at now isn't so great. No people. Not enough anyway. I think back not to the best times per say but the times when I felt I was living life in a way that provided me a sense of purpose and belonging. Certainly the good times are the best to think of, but also the bad times and the times that were just ok. It was always nice being able to call someone up after work and knowing we'd do something. It doesn't matter what. Had another dream with the girl in it, the one I saw for the longest time. I thought about her some more and it was strange for me to wrap my mind around the fact that at one time we did things together that people in our situation did. I feel that I am so far from any feeling like that it seems amazing that it is even possible and that I haven't forgotten fully how it is to feel. One likes to think that forgetting is easy or a curse. But I can still remember. There is a place in my memory that holds on to all of those moments and sometimes I am back there. Late nights driving home with a cigarette and the windows down. Or hating myself for having feelings that make me human. Or saying things that wouldn't make things easier. I thought of how there were things that we never said to one another. A set of three words comes to mind. Never once. Never even mentioned the word. We knew. That made it easier, I guess. I still hold onto that. We had such an immense understanding it was odd. We were two people who always held each other at somewhat of a distance. I do that to everyone. If I look at my life now I can trace a lot of what I have done back to her. I have done things to prove to myself that I don't need her and ever thinking “if she could only see me now.' Yeah, that'd show her. What? I guess that I've become a different person but not a better one. But I am a better one. Change has done me good. I have found places that help define me now. I have met people that I would never have had I stayed stagnant. I am glad in a lot of ways to be where I am, but also unsatisfied. That, I feel, I will always be. I only have everyday of my life to make it better. I need to start believing that and never stop living. I have been trying to do things slower, make my life slower. I feel that I miss a lot. I try to make my mind slower too. To think about things more and react after I have thought about something long enough. Just like proof reading your own paper it is had to do the damn thing with one's mind. I keep waiting for life to get better in a sudden and revelating way. It won't happen like that. It'll just sneak up on me and I'll be glad that it did. I'm glad for my life everyday. And I'm glad to be glad.
The only thing I feel
is that I feel
I can't feel anything
Soft wind through the window
that's how I know you're here
but I guess that's kind of strange
when you're nothing
Can't get much more self-loathing and depressing than that. Might make a good song one of these days. I hate how these posts of late have been more like diary entries but it's what's been on my mind as of late. Something I said to a friend this week made me think of where I am now and of course where I have been. I said “It's the people that make the place.” I do suppose that is why this place I am at now isn't so great. No people. Not enough anyway. I think back not to the best times per say but the times when I felt I was living life in a way that provided me a sense of purpose and belonging. Certainly the good times are the best to think of, but also the bad times and the times that were just ok. It was always nice being able to call someone up after work and knowing we'd do something. It doesn't matter what. Had another dream with the girl in it, the one I saw for the longest time. I thought about her some more and it was strange for me to wrap my mind around the fact that at one time we did things together that people in our situation did. I feel that I am so far from any feeling like that it seems amazing that it is even possible and that I haven't forgotten fully how it is to feel. One likes to think that forgetting is easy or a curse. But I can still remember. There is a place in my memory that holds on to all of those moments and sometimes I am back there. Late nights driving home with a cigarette and the windows down. Or hating myself for having feelings that make me human. Or saying things that wouldn't make things easier. I thought of how there were things that we never said to one another. A set of three words comes to mind. Never once. Never even mentioned the word. We knew. That made it easier, I guess. I still hold onto that. We had such an immense understanding it was odd. We were two people who always held each other at somewhat of a distance. I do that to everyone. If I look at my life now I can trace a lot of what I have done back to her. I have done things to prove to myself that I don't need her and ever thinking “if she could only see me now.' Yeah, that'd show her. What? I guess that I've become a different person but not a better one. But I am a better one. Change has done me good. I have found places that help define me now. I have met people that I would never have had I stayed stagnant. I am glad in a lot of ways to be where I am, but also unsatisfied. That, I feel, I will always be. I only have everyday of my life to make it better. I need to start believing that and never stop living. I have been trying to do things slower, make my life slower. I feel that I miss a lot. I try to make my mind slower too. To think about things more and react after I have thought about something long enough. Just like proof reading your own paper it is had to do the damn thing with one's mind. I keep waiting for life to get better in a sudden and revelating way. It won't happen like that. It'll just sneak up on me and I'll be glad that it did. I'm glad for my life everyday. And I'm glad to be glad.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
A brief note on a recent observation. I find myself getting down. Near the dumps even. But I don't seem to stay there. I am pretty good at not feeling bad for myself. I am good at realizing what I need to do to make my life a good one and I have no one to blame except myself. That's good. That makes me feel good. I mean, to be responsible for myself and know it. I'm glad I'm not too cool for school. Pants aren't tight enough.
It's so strange, how I'm living. There are a lot of things that I know I should do that would make my life better but I don't. Just weird. I think about doing them everyday. I make up excuses why I don't do them and that settles it, for that moment. So then I further dwell on the topic somewhat passively. I am under no illusion that everything I do is my own fault and that I have no one else to blame. The benefits of being alone all of the time. I don't have any friends here any more. They all moved away. It's odd. I'm sure that is why I don't like it here so much. I don't even see people on the street who I think I would like. The people I know are mostly from work and that is the thing we have in common. I'll be hanging out with them soon enough so I don't really want to right now.
In all honesty there is one thing that would make me feel the best, if someone called me because they were thinking of me and wanted to hang out. That would be great. That's the catch isn't it? There isn't anyone so they can't call and I have no one to connect with to meet people who might want to call me. Shit. I hate that I dwell on this. Pretty much all the time. I understand every angle of the problem and know what I would have to do to solve it. I just don't. It's easier to sit up late on a friday night writing on my computer unable to sleep because I wish I was out with people who I consider friends or sitting around with the girlfriend that exists only in my mind and who sometimes I feel will never be real. I must just be lazy. I don't want to try, and this is the price I pay. I think that now I can officially say that I'm lonely.
Last week I went into town at night to go to the library. On my way home I stopped at the stupid expensive grocery store. I was looking at the dates in the produce section, and as I was looking at them one of the packages fell off and slid across the floor. I said aloud “Well that didn't work out so well.” A woman around my age standing there said as she picked up the package and handed it to me “But it ended well.” I couldn't think of anything to say. I said nothing but smiled. As I was driving home in the dark a song came on my ipod that isn't a really emotional song and the lyrics are sort of tongue-in-cheek serious, but as it started to play I began to cry. Really cry. Sobbing while driving. I guess it was the melancholy melody and the fact that I felt exasperated. I then thought of the woman at the store and how I wish I had been able to say something. I wished how in some way someone would know how I feel. How worthless everyday feels sometimes even though I feel fine and can't really complain. I can't really be optimistic either. Mediocre. I cried because I wanted to feel something besides indifference and hopeless wishful thinking. I realized how much I am missing because I don't try. Because I am afraid of something. Because I have everything I want except one thing that voids everything else. Life is nothing if you have no one to share it with. I can only tell people what I have done and do. I want to be able to reminisce with people. It sounds corny but waking up alone gets old. Bed becomes an adversary. Even though it has been years since I haven't woken up alone. Not even waking up alone, doing everything alone. My only treatment is the fact that I explain how I feel and observations I make to myself. I talk to myself a lot. I always have but now, it's out of hand. I have philosophical conversations and make up jokes. Weird. I think I even do it when I'm around other people and I don't notice it. Odd.
Had a birthday the other day. I'm not one to be concerned with getting older. It just happens. This birthday was different though. I was alone. No cake, no going out to eat. Opened a box from my folks by myself. Depressing on one level, but I took a more ambivalent approach. I could have been sad about it. But I wasn't. I'm ok with being alone but frustrated too. I don't feel like there are people in this town who I can relate too. They're all transplants, like me. But unlike me, a lot of folks seem to be here for some weird reason having to do with fashions, trends, and wanting this to be more like where they are from. I often say to myself that I'm just not cool enough for this town. My pants are too loose and my clothes are just too inexpensive in general. I'm not drunk enough either. No am I or anyone I know “just sooooooo amazing.” Fuck. This shit is seriously bringing me down.
Things are easier blogged than done, so they say.
Lots of Pink Floyd and bluegrass too.
(written March 6)
In all honesty there is one thing that would make me feel the best, if someone called me because they were thinking of me and wanted to hang out. That would be great. That's the catch isn't it? There isn't anyone so they can't call and I have no one to connect with to meet people who might want to call me. Shit. I hate that I dwell on this. Pretty much all the time. I understand every angle of the problem and know what I would have to do to solve it. I just don't. It's easier to sit up late on a friday night writing on my computer unable to sleep because I wish I was out with people who I consider friends or sitting around with the girlfriend that exists only in my mind and who sometimes I feel will never be real. I must just be lazy. I don't want to try, and this is the price I pay. I think that now I can officially say that I'm lonely.
Last week I went into town at night to go to the library. On my way home I stopped at the stupid expensive grocery store. I was looking at the dates in the produce section, and as I was looking at them one of the packages fell off and slid across the floor. I said aloud “Well that didn't work out so well.” A woman around my age standing there said as she picked up the package and handed it to me “But it ended well.” I couldn't think of anything to say. I said nothing but smiled. As I was driving home in the dark a song came on my ipod that isn't a really emotional song and the lyrics are sort of tongue-in-cheek serious, but as it started to play I began to cry. Really cry. Sobbing while driving. I guess it was the melancholy melody and the fact that I felt exasperated. I then thought of the woman at the store and how I wish I had been able to say something. I wished how in some way someone would know how I feel. How worthless everyday feels sometimes even though I feel fine and can't really complain. I can't really be optimistic either. Mediocre. I cried because I wanted to feel something besides indifference and hopeless wishful thinking. I realized how much I am missing because I don't try. Because I am afraid of something. Because I have everything I want except one thing that voids everything else. Life is nothing if you have no one to share it with. I can only tell people what I have done and do. I want to be able to reminisce with people. It sounds corny but waking up alone gets old. Bed becomes an adversary. Even though it has been years since I haven't woken up alone. Not even waking up alone, doing everything alone. My only treatment is the fact that I explain how I feel and observations I make to myself. I talk to myself a lot. I always have but now, it's out of hand. I have philosophical conversations and make up jokes. Weird. I think I even do it when I'm around other people and I don't notice it. Odd.
Had a birthday the other day. I'm not one to be concerned with getting older. It just happens. This birthday was different though. I was alone. No cake, no going out to eat. Opened a box from my folks by myself. Depressing on one level, but I took a more ambivalent approach. I could have been sad about it. But I wasn't. I'm ok with being alone but frustrated too. I don't feel like there are people in this town who I can relate too. They're all transplants, like me. But unlike me, a lot of folks seem to be here for some weird reason having to do with fashions, trends, and wanting this to be more like where they are from. I often say to myself that I'm just not cool enough for this town. My pants are too loose and my clothes are just too inexpensive in general. I'm not drunk enough either. No am I or anyone I know “just sooooooo amazing.” Fuck. This shit is seriously bringing me down.
Things are easier blogged than done, so they say.
Lots of Pink Floyd and bluegrass too.
(written March 6)
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