A Window to My Character

My heroes growing up were, in no particular order:

Sherlock Holmes

Robin Hood

Superman

James Bond

Leonardo Da Vinci

I recently realized that this actually offers a bit of insight to my character, personality and beingness. Because consciously or not, I've tried to be an amalgamation of these men. So now, because I know how fascinating I am, I'll break it down. 

Sherlock Holmes: Hyper-observant, above-average intelligence; thinks before he acts, superior deductive skills. But also can be arrogant about his achievements and intellect. Haunted; prone to crutches, but not excuses.  

Robin Hood: Willing to think outside the box to find solutions to problems. Also willing to face those problems, if not always head-on. Dedicated to helping others. Broad streak of romanticism. Issues with discrimination, abuse of power/authority.

Superman: Strong moral character and uncompromising code of ethics; recognizes that being more able carries with it the responsibility to channel that ability toward the common good. Generally quite selfless. Unassuming and quiet in his alter-ego. Would prefer to have others shine with him than be the brightest star, yet is perennially alone, apart -- alien.

James Bond: Suave, sharp, a ladies' man. Calm in the face of opposition or danger. Will stop at nothing to protect and serve. 

Leonardo Da Vinci: Artist extrordinare. Also: Left-handed. 

Now, I'm totally not saying I'm anywhere near the badass any of these men are/were. And I am most assuredly a much more cynical man these days. But the fact remains, I like to think I've done a pretty good job of it (even though I unfortunately seem to have retained the negative aspects of those personalities). 

But yeah, anyway: Not trying to beat my own drum all over the place; it was just something I noticed and found interesting about myself. 

The Weight

I have had a rough day. 

Here's a thought: I think men, as a rule, process emotional pain differently than girls do. See, girls, I think they "get" that shit better than men do (don't ask me why). Men know about it, sure, but it just does not compute. If you hurt, there should be some physical damage! Otherwise, where the hell does that pain come from? If nothing's physically wrong, it shouldn't stop you. 

Maybe you should break something, then. Punch a wall or something, make your knuckles bleed. Then there's real, obvious pain. You can DO something about that. 

I've have to ruthlessly suppress all such urges all. Day. Long. Not just suppress, but hide; bury. Deep.

It's sort of a joke amongst some of my friends, that I give my heart too easily, too quickly (although that's, ha ha, that's not how we describe it).  

It's true I'm inclined to like people; that I'm oft willing to extend the hand of friendship as a default. 

When it comes to love, though? Truth is, no. I mean yeah, I don't waste any fucking time with it when I meet someone I think would work. But I am very, very choosy about who I dare take chances with. 

Apparently no less retarded, but yes. Choosy. 

I almost let myself fall in love again late last year. That's what I tell myself, that it was "almost", because "almost" is easier to come back from, right? If you haven't fallen, you can catch yourself before you do, right? 

Well I dunno. Maybe that's true, and maybe it isn't. Maybe I'd gotten away from myself when I wasn't looking.

All I really know is, it really hurt to find out that the girl who dumped me just a few months ago, got married last weekend. It wasn't just some schmoe, it's a dude she'd history with, who'd buggered off because -- never mind. None of my business, none of yours. Doesn't matter.

She's moving to Texas (entirely disrelated to the marriage thing). Today was the official sendoff. And although we didn't work out as a relationship, we've still kinda got something, and it behooved me to see her off. That's just how I do.

We started off with breakfast at Denny's. I noticed the ring on her left hand right after we'd ordered, and suddenly all appetite was gone. All the pieces that had been hovering in my mind slammed into place hard enough to set my ear ringing (literally). The mysterious Vegas trip. The photo of "the rose". The Facebook update about picking up so-and-so from the airport. The truth I'd been hiding from myself (as I do, oh yes; some truths are better snuck up on, if you can) was revealed, inescapable. 

I wish I hadn't seen that ring. But it couldn't be unseen. Although I made no outward sign of anything wrong, I could only choke down a few bites of my meal. The whole day pretty much went like that; I'd be fine for a bit and then I'd see that fucking ring...

It shouldn't have hurt. 

I had no claim on her, and no particular hope of getting back with her. And of course this was always going to happen at some point - this girl's ovaries were in full rumble. (Not to say she was a slut; it is to say she wanted kids. A lot.) 

Shouldn't have hurt. 

I can't be selfish in this, I wish them happiness and a wonderful life together. It's the least I can do. 

When we got a moment alone (many hours later), I brought it up. Confirmed my deductions were right (they all were). I congratulated her. So very carefully, so calmly. I think, I hope, I hid that my guts were knotted and rebellious. Maybe she picked up on a little of it, don't know. But she does care about me, I know that. It isn't some "guilt" thing that she likes having me around and counts me as a close friend. 

Somehow this makes it worse.

I'm not one for showing my pains to the world. Even this blog is far, far too revealing, too vulnerable and open - but it's gotta go somewhere and at least this way I don't have to face unloading on someone directly and making them deal with me when they likely have better things to do. 

I have nothing to break. 

On Racism

I recently read an article wherein the author contended that everyone, everyone, is racist. 

She further contends that being white automatically = having a life of comparative privilege. 

And she still further contends that it's unlikely a white person can truly understand what it's like to be on the wrong side of racism.

To which I reply, unequivocally but with respect: Bullshit. 

Now, I do realize I am currently a heterosexual white male in North America, which perhaps isn't exactly the right background upon which one would rightly base such a blanket refutual. Particularly, one could say, against this author, who is a "person of color". 

Well, it's true that my own personal life experience has been a wonderful and idyllic dream compared to the travails and tragedies of the poor starving children in Africa. To say nothing of, for instance, those living in Watts in the 60s (I don't actually know what conditions are like there now, sorry). I'm not going to deny that, but I don't see any reason I should apologise for it, either.

That said, how about we deconstruct the second contention, about being white automatically inferring privilege. 

It's an entirely racist comment (and to her credit, the author does not deny this), and patently untrue when taken on a global scale, to say nothing of a historic one.  

I don't even need to Godwin this. How about people living in the former USSR? They're predominantly white. They had to put up with some pretty shitty conditions and the Eastern Bloc STILL isn't what I'd call a first-world zone. The disparity of living conditions between former-Soviet countries and America is still fairly stark; I'm pretty sure nearly everyone living in the USA has a MUCH better time of things than those guys. Regardless of color in either area.

How about this idea that I can't possibly understand what it's like to be discriminated against because of my skin color (just because I'm white)?  Well, there are a number of things I can say to that; they can pretty much all be summed up as "Fuck you", but I realize this isn't a sufficiently cogent argument.

So: Firstly, I live in Los Angeles, California, and have for many years.  And I've made my way around the block; around several, in fact. That I've remained relatively unscathed may in part have to do with my race, but I think it more has to do with the fact that I'm not stupid or suicidal; nor do I see any value in dick-swinging contests of any stripe. 

Nonetheless, I have been discriminated against quite a number of times, for reasons including but not limited to skin color. I have had to deal with slurs based on my skin color, of hostility arising from it, regardless of my own personal actions, motivations or preferences. In other words, I've had to deal with racists. Did they stick a flaming cross in my front yard? No. But as I understand it, that sort of thing is passe these days, amongst the bigoted types.

Secondly, who the fuck are you, Miz Writer Person, to say what I can or do know? Are you suddenly telepathic on a globaland personal scale, can you read my deepest thoughts stretching back through my entire existence? By your own argument, you invalidate yourself. You say that not having experienced something, you can't know what it's like - but you yourself haven't experienced "not having experienced"; ergo how can you know what it's like to not have experienced something? Is it a "before and after" thing? Because your memory is ostensibly limited to your current lifetime, in which case you don't have any "before" to experience. Moreover, you haven't lived my life, so how would you know whether I know anything?

I'm not mad, really. I just think it's fucked up that people of all colors are still petty, racist little assholes even when they crusade against racism. 

Now look, I'm not saying racism doesn't exist, or that it doesn't suck, and hard. Because it does, and it has, and I get pretty riled up when I see anyone being discriminated against. 

But dig it: Did you notice I didn't qualify my statement with "because of their skin color"? That's because I get pretty riled up when I see anyone being discriminated against NO MATTER WHAT the excuse is. 

I don't care what your biological background is. If you ever use it as an excuse for divisiveness amongst your fellow man, you are being racist. The prejudice really does go both ways, and I seriously can't believe I have to explain this, but obviously I do. 

Now sure a person could walk up to me and say, "It's easy for you to say, white boy. Your people were never enslaved."  And maybe they'd be right. Except I'm Irish on my dad's side, and you don't hear me pissing and moaning about English offenses against my ancestors which included wholesale slaughter, economic sanctions and other unpleasantries. In fact, I figure I could probably find some "being a slave" shit somewhere in my genetic history, considering what the hell country WASN'T someone's slave at one time or another? 

Also, I'm a Scientologist and I really don't often talk about how oppressed we are, and how discriminated against in various parts of the world, and how unfair it is that people look at us funny and laugh at us because they believe what South Park told them. I mean, yeah, I'll bring it up now and then and I'll deal with it when I have to, but I don't walk around feeling aggrieved, badgered and marginalized about it my whole bloody life. I surely don't use it as a "card" to get my way or cut people down. If I have to use "I'm a victim" to win an argument or get my way, I've already fucking lost, haven't I? 

I'm actually more bothered by the fact that I'm getting older which means the chicks in my age bracket will likely have less perky tits than I've been used to.  And no, for the record: I'm not a shallow guy.

Race is just an excuse to foster divisiveness amongst our species. So is nationality, religion, sex, age, and literally any other arbitrary classification possible.

Here in the real world: There ARE things that some people are better suited to than others. The list of those things, if it existed, would be CONSIDERABLY shorter than bigots would have the world believe, and notably lacking in references to skin color as far as I can figure. But that doesn't refute the reality that a 7-foot-tall person can reach a higher place than a 4-foot-tall person. You can't call that discrimination; that is a PRACTICAL consideration. 

Other than such practical considerations, there really is no logical reason for "us vs. them" within the human race. The only such divisions exist purely out of frankly arbitrary considerations of members of those groups. 

We have better things to do than squabble about melanin; more important things to be concerned with than the past (and especially things that happened to people centuries dead). Right now is important; the future is important. We're faced with a great many gnarly issues as a race, and on every single level I can conceive as I write this, all of those have more to do with our survival as a race (which is to say, homo sapiens - not black, white, red, yellow or mulatto) than any of those arbitrary and frankly idiotic distinctions. 

So, really. Still think I'm a racist? 

What. The. Fuck.

Okay, I didn't want to make a blog of this particularly like some fucking high school kid but I don't have anyone to talk to about this and I want to get it out of my head before I leave for the evening. 

I was just sort of idly clicking around on Facebook, and I suddenly discovered the Facebook version of blogs (these "note" things). Specifically, the "Notes" of the girl who recently dumped me. 

I swear I wasn't snooping, or FB-stalking, nothing like that. But something caught my eye and before I knew it I was reading about how she was so tired of being single, wondering what love was, listing all these things she loved about love, on and on. These had all been written like a month before our first date.

And I'm now sitting here with an industrial-size shitload of what the fuck, because this girl had it all handed to her on a silver platter and she didn't want it. She sent it back. With a note. 

Now I swear I was being pretty restrained with the whole "let's mock up a thing" bit. I really was. Granted, I was a little giddy at first, but even that wasn't overwrought. I was very careful not to run roughshod all over this chick and get ahead of myself. 

As I've alluded to elsewhere, the exception on this (and a fairly big one) was that we got nekkid a bit too soon. But that wasn't my idea, it was hers. And that's the big WTF, here. There was OBVIOUSLY an attraction there, okay. It's not like I was pursuing someone I had no business pursuing. She was digging it. 

Until she wasn't. I don't send her a lot of comm lately, but she doesn't even return a "Merry Christmas" text; that's kind of fucked. She's totally backed out. 

Now, I know the mechanics of this so I do know what's going on, in part. What I don't get is, well, what the hell was so wrong with me that I could be nearly everything she wanted in a man and still fall short? 

Because I've spent a good portion of my life learning what the ladies like or want and knowing how to provide it. They all say they want ______ in a man and so I incorporate that into my actions. It's not even like it's some "trying too hard" thing. I'm not "trying hard" at all. I'm simply providing what apparently is needed and wanted. It's really not complicated.

(Of course, if what they want is six-pack abs and shit like that, well, I don't have those at present. But if they're THAT shallow, I'm not interested anyway.)

Somehow it's hasn't been enough, and THAT is what I do not understand. 

Fuck. Maybe it's just the whole romanticism thing. Maybe it was a young girl who doesn't know what she wants, or some shit. I just wish I knew what I was doing wrong so I could fix it. Not with her, necessarily, but for the future. 

Why the Great Recession Gives Me Hope for Humanity

Today I read an article about the surprising changes seen by department store Santas in the kids' wishes. Instead of wishing for toys, they were asking for socks, shoes, eyeglasses. Yeah, it's sad that someone as young as five would be asking Santa for a job for his father, but I tend to look on the bright side of things.

America is learning some hard lessons right now, but by so learning, I think we can expect something of a Renaissance of Western culture and more to the point, a resurgence of what makes America great.

Look at what the Depression did for America, what it gave  (at least from what I can tell): People who knew the value of a dollar, who understood that hard work and general productivity was essential to survival, people who learned and proved their mettle by surmounting obstacles and making things go right in spite of all. These people were tough, they were effective, they were honest, and they weren't whiny assholes.

I do realize I speak in broad generalities and gross simplicities, but hear me out.

The current "Entitlement Generation", to me, smacks of the Victorian-Era "idle rich"; and we all know how those guys turned out. Anyone who thinks the world owes them anything is going to be getting a ruder-than-usual surprise if they're just hitting the job markets around now.

Compared to Generations X and Y, kids today are facing some tough shit, it's true. And it does make me a little sad, that a lot of kids are having to grow up a little faster. But only a little sad. Because prolonging childhood into the 20s hasn't done the world that much good. It's just given us the "Me Generation", the "Entitlement Generation", slackers, emos, it goes on. People, in short, who think they deserve the fruits of civilization simply by having been born in one, rather than by contributing to it.

It's given us reality TV, breast implants, MySpace suicides and Tila Tequila. It's given us a country with a ridiculously disproportionate, twisted set of priorities.

The great men in history got their start early. Part of it was the educational system at the time: until I think the 20th century, schooling often included apprenticeships, which began as young as ten or twelve but rarely older than 14. Or of course the kids in rural areas were intimately involved in the farm work, which is where the current school schedule came from.

The point is, being made to take responsibility at an early age does make for healthier, saner and entirely less emo populations.

In present time, I think it's pretty hard to hide the fact that times are tough from any kid with half a brain. And I truly believe that not only will they learn from parents having to rise to new levels of ingenuity, but they will learn that the same thing is required of them, to make it out there. Knowing early on that the world isn't all rainbows and puppy dogs might make them more determined to make it so.

The children of the last significant economic downturn gave us the moon.

What will the children of today give us?

That time of year again

So it's getting toward the end of 2009, and that means New Year's resolutions.

Some of these are the kind of things that show up every year, and of course when you say it you mean it but by February it's all gone, right?

Well, I really mean all of these things and I'm actually going to make it a personal game to see how many of these I can actually accomplish. I'm going for all of them.

1) Get in shape. This one is predictable, yes. But it's also multi-faceted. I want to get everything sorted, body wise. That means new hearing aid, new glasses; it means losing the gut but also actually being fairly fit, not merely emaciated. It means cutting way down on the alcohol, caffeine, cigarettes, sugar and generally unhealthy food. I'm not going to go total health nut, but there's still definitely room for improvement.

Also getting in shape does mean spiritually as well. I've made some progress on that in the past year, but really not nearly enough -- only really worked on it for two months! This year, I'm getting through all the books and whatnot, that I've been neglecting all this time, but also I'm just going to rock with the other stuff. I'm being vague because most of my readers won't know what I'm talking about; suffice it to say there is a big goal (though not the end) and there are approximately five more steps I have to take to reach it. Ideally I would like to have made the goal by this time next year, but at the very least I want to have made three of those steps.

I really think doing this will help with the next thing.

2) Get into a proper relationship with someone. This one is also a recurring theme, yeah. But it also has a lot of sub-products or sides to it. One of them is I need to really get myself out there, to actually meet someone. This is probably going to mean I have to do a fair amount of girl shopping -- which I kind of hate -- but so be it. The important thing, I think, is to be shopping in the right places. Because I really have not been (until kind of recently).

Ironically though I think the only way I'm going to get what I want here is by not being in such a hurry about it. That's one thing that I learned in my most recent relationship fiasco. I wonder if I hadn't boned her so early, maybe she would've been willing to have a relationship that lasted longer than a weekend. True, if I hadn't done it then, it may never have happened at all, but that's a risk I should start taking. It's not like I'm lacking for sexual experiences here.

It's not just the sex of course, but that was a weird enough thought that I had to share it. Because it's usually not something a guy would consider, ha ha.

3) That of course means I need to be making a lot more money. I've mentioned in earlier blogs, the whole thing about needing to kick things into gear, etc. etc. Well, that's still true, although things HAVE started rolling. It's not a product yet.

It's not just about the money; it's also about doing what I love and want to do in my life. But it does so happen that those things can and should be monetized, too.

So I resolve to do lots of writing and actually start sending things out and around. That's to happen pretty early on, mind. Like before my birthday in March. I want to have stuff out there while I'm working on other stuff.

Also I will get the webcomic truly live online, regularly being updated and acting as an income source.

Also I will be promoting and selling my services as a proofreader, for which I could make some pretty good money.

4) Isn't it kinda cool how these each lead to the next? Because my next resolution is to get my own place (for which I will NEED to be making pretty good money). And by "my own place" I really mean "my own place". No roommates, unless it's the girlfriend mentioned above. MY PLACE. And it can't be some shithole either, but a place I can be proud and happy to live in.

Seriously, I should be able to do this. Fuck the "economy is bad" shit. My car will be paid off this year; my DAY JOB income is going to at least double by March, to say nothing of what I can earn from my other three income sources (proofreading, writing, webcomic). It shouldn't be THAT huge a deal, financially.

Yeah, maybe I'll be lonelier, but fuck it, that will force me to work harder to fix the problem, won't it.

So yeah, I think that covers it for now. But these aren't even resolutions for the END of the year. I think that's another error people make. The end of the next year is far away. I'm gonna target this shit out to happen DURING the year. And most of it done by July.

Anyone else wanna get on board with their resolutions? Come play the game with me!

I am the quiet one

who sits in the corner 

watching

remembering

and someday I may come back 

and write of what I see

and make the night immortal.