Wednesday, August 29, 2007
So tonight I was thinking about a couple of things, but mainly revolving around Bill Hicks's assertion that "we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, there is no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we are the imagination of ourselves."
This quote, while piquing my interest, had never made total sense to me. While in the shower tonight I had a realization of some of the things it could mean. Have you ever imagined what it would like to be a king or stockbroker or a beggar on the streets of Chennai? Have you ever wished you could be someone else temporarily or permanently but you didn't hate who you are enough to wish to destroy it in order to become that other thing or something resembling it?
Well, suppose that that is all that life really is. The universe is just experimenting with different roles to experience them and all our lives really are are just one of those roles. Of course, each role must be kept ignorant of its true nature of the universe experiencing itself because if it knew, it would jeopardize the authenticity of the universe's experience in that role.
Now, suppose that you or I becomes aware of our true nature as being one with the universe and that our lives are merely dreams or mental fantasies of the universe. Now, I must assume that in order for the universe to experience my role and indeed it must be every moment I am existing, it must have some attention focused on its experience of me. So, if I am really both the observer and the observed then what keeps me from shifting my consciousness to one of the other roles to experience them? As it is all a creation of the "mind," even a creation of a new role would not be out of place. This would not even require any change in the existence or behaviour of my current role... the experiencer is the same so I, in a sense, would still be controlling and remembering everything that I as Michael do. Yet I could also experience Rachel at the same time as a wholly separate in the world and 100% female entity. I could empathize with other people because I could transcend my role and have full knowledge of their experience since I am them as the experiencer.
Now I guess the real question is why nobody seems to do that. Is the true realization of oneness of the role and the experiencer perhaps something that causes the destruction of the role inherently? Is this "merging" realization what is called enlightenment? You would after all suddenly know and be everything.... you wouldn't need to desire to experience another role because you've probably already experienced anything you may wish to dozens of times. Is the passage of time and the development of knowledge and technology in the world just a way to reiterate the same roles in different surroundings to refine knowledge? Or is the fact that we are stuck in the flow of time just an attribute of playing a role and the universe already knows all time?
Or, is all of this theory just an old rehash of the idea that this world is shitty and painful and so we must fantasize about a better world outside of our own or in the afterlife just to deal with it?
Monday, August 27, 2007
R.I.P. Minimes and James Fleugel
Minimes: One of my gerbils from the third litter. He has been living in pain for quite a few months due to a large open wound on his stomach that I believe developed out of an infection of the scent gland. It caused him to lose a lot of weight and limp as he hopped. When I returned from my recent trip to Arizona, I discovered that he had finally passed on. I'm glad that he is out of his pain, but he will be missed. He is survived by his father Meriones, his mother Jird, his brother Munchkin, and his sister Śubh.
James Fleugel: A great friend of my mother. After being single until his forties, he finally married and had a child. Then, with the baby still very young, he was diagnosed with cancer that was believed to be treatable. Unfortunately, it spread very quickly and was too much for his body and he passed on August 26, 2007. He is survived by his wife and young child.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
You know that feeling you get when you go back and watch a cartoon or movie you liked when you were a child that held a magical appeal to you then and you watch it now and it's just not that great and you can transparently see all the little lessons it tries to teach the child viewers, etc. and it just sort of ruins the innocent view you had of your childhood?
Well, I had one of those types of experiences last night. There was this little tongue twister type saying that my dad used on my siblings and me when we were children. We always thought that he made it up and while so small, it was one of those things that I think of when I think of my dad. I thought of it as a unique contribution of his to my life and our family legacy.
Well, I discovered last night that not only did he not make it up, but there are several slightly different versions in circulation. Apparently it is a camp song and is used at a variety of different types of camp. I guess it makes sense given my dad's very heavily involvement in the scouting program as I grew up, but it was still a bummer to know that it didn't originate with him.
Due to the sounds used, I don't know exactly how one would spell it, but this is an approximate spelling of how I remember learning it from him:
itten bitten little kitten oaten doaten little boaten eskidly oaten doaten bodo skadeaten dotten wadda kachoo
Here is a sample of some of the other versions I have found on the web:
www.woodbadge.org/FTP/WBSONGBK.doc
Whadat-n-Chew
(Leader says line,
then everyone repeats)
whadat-n-chew
bodo skideeten aten
whadat-n-chew
its skittle-li oaten doten
bodo skideeten aten
whadat-n-chew
oaten doten little boaten
its skittle-li oaten doten
bodo skideeten aten
whadat-n-chew
itten ditten little kitten
oaten doten little boaten
its skittle-li oaten doten
bodo skideeten aten
whadat-n-chew
eatel leetel little beetle
itten ditten little kitten
oaten doten little boaten
its skittle-li oaten doten
bodo skideeten aten
whadat-n-chew
urdel lurdle little turtle
eatel leetel little beetle
itten ditten little kitten
oaten doten little boaten
its skittle-li oaten doten
bodo skideeten aten
whadat-n-chew
oodle loodle little poodle
urdel lurdle little turtle
eatel leetel little beetle
itten ditten little kitten
oaten doten little boaten
its skittle-li oaten doten
bodo skideeten aten
whadat-n-chew
http://www.girlscoutslolc.org/Programs/games_songs.htm
Whattatin Chew!
Bodo Skedetenat Whattatin Chew!
It's Skiddlin' Oatin' Dotin' Bodo Skedetenat Whattatin Chew!
Ishy Dishy Little Fishy, It's Skiddlin' Oatin' Dotin' Bodo Skedetenat Whattatin Chew!
Itten Ditten Little Kitten, Ishy Dishy Little Fishy, It's Skiddlin' Oatin'>Dotin' Bodo Skedetenat Whattatin Chew!
Oaten Doaten Little Boaten, Itten Ditten Little Kitten, Ishy Dishy Little Fishy, It's Skiddlin' Oatin' Dotin' Bodo Skedetenat Whattatin Chew!
WHATTATIN CHEW!!!
http://www.campronaldmcdonald.org/goodtimes/Camp/CampTraditions_songbook.htm
Wah Dot in Choo
(Repeat Song)
Wah dot in choo
Bo Dote ska deetin dottin wah dot in choo
Its skiddlee oaten doaten bo dote ska deetin dottin wah dot in choo
Itten ditten little kitten, oaten doaten little boaten
Its skiddle oaten doaten bo dote ska deetin dottin wah dot in choo
http://www.scarletandgray.info/osu/songs/cheers.html
(leader) Wa Da Chew
(everyone) Wa da chew
(leader) Bodo skadeetin datin, wa da chew
(everyone) Bodo skadeetin datin, wa da chew
(leader) Ish biddly oaten doaten bodo skadeetin datin wa do chew
(everyone) Ish biddly oaten doaten bodo skadeetin datin wa do chew
(everyone) Go Bucks!
http://listserv.tcu.edu/cgi-bin/wa.exe?A2=ind9511&L=scouts-l&T=0&P=106487
Itten, ditten little kitten
Oaten, doaten, little boaten
Iss-kiddle-e-oaten-doaten
Bo-do-skee-daten-daten
Wah-dot-n-choo!
While preparing for bed tonight, I came up with a most interesting idea. Imagine a culture where children are named as they normally are, but they are not given middle names. Then, at the age of 16 or 18 something similar, the person is expected to pick a new adult name to go by that they feel best describes who they feel they are. They then adopt this new name as their first name and their old name becomes their middle name. Since this would be expected in this culture and the old name isn't actually lost, most people shouldn't have a problem with the change. I think it would be a most fascinating symbolic rite of passage.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Damn.
On Tuesday I went to a job interview where I had to fill out some paperwork, take a driving test, take a typing test (93wpm!), and have an interview. I thought I did well enough in the interview and I was scheduled for a second interview at a site I could possibly work at later in the day. I went to that one and they laughed at me for wearing a tie which was a good thing since I hate ties. It is a very informal work atmosphere and I could show up in shorts to it. At the end, the lady seemed quite pleased with me and told me she was going to tell admin that she wanted me.
Well, not having heard anything several days later, I called them today to ask how long it takes to hear something and they told me that my second interview had gone really well, but that there were some internal candidates who applied for the position instead and since they get precedence, one of them got the position instead of me. Fucker.
So, the HR lady is going to talk to the person who interviewed me the first time and see if there are any other locations she would recommend me for and then call me back Monday about that... which means I'd have to fly the fuck back out to Phoenix again for more interviews.
Last weekend I submitted about 15 resumes to various other companies and have only gotten called back by one of them.... Children and Family Services. I haven't called them back yet because we didn't have very good experiences with them when I was growing up, but I may have to. Shit.
Hopefully in a few months I'll be looking back on all of this and laughing, but I wouldn't bet on it.
I've also decided that this phase of my life is still going to be annoying. I'll still have to live with my mom at first and then even when I am financially stable enough to move out, I'll still be in the same city as her and my aunt/uncle/cousins. That means my policy of letting very few people know where I live that I applied in Athens will not be very possible here. Even if I don't tell any friends, I'll still have family showing up at my door. And if I go out in public I will still have to worry about running into people that know my family. And people are a god damn rumour mill so I'm still going to feel stymied by the narrow conceptions of right/wrong and of who I am by my family and therefore the god damn mormon church even once I move back on my own.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Why is it that every year on my birthday I just get really depressed? It's supposed to be a happy day, right? I get to be (though I don't like it) the center of attention and people all call me and leave me nice little messages. I'm not really old enough to be too seriously dreading the idea that each birthday brings me closer to old age and death. Nevertheless I hate my birthday.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Well, today, after going to 3 different DMV's (the first was closed and the second had a problem with their computers), I got an Arizona driver's license. Feels kind of weird since the only kind I've ever had was for Georgia.
Tomorrow morning I go for my first real job interview in Arizona. I'm hoping that others call to schedule interviews while I'm in town. Better still if this first one just works out.
In some ways it will be nicer being back with my family when they move here than with my relatives. They are so churchy.... family prayers like 3 times a day, prayers at meals, scripture readings, family home evenings, keeping sunday churchy, etc..... very little of which I can avoid. Damn fine people for sure, but god, I could never be that religious.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
I had a couple of bizarre dreams last night, however, I can unfortunately only recall one of them. Anyway, here it is:
As a spur of the moment sort of thing, I got on a plane to a small city in england with the intention of going to a job fair there. The seats faced each other in pairs like on a train with a table between each side. Unexpectedly, I got seated across from Andrew and Emily and next to Nick. Nick stuck out his finger at me and I bit it... apparently in this dream world I would often snap a bite at fingers extended toward me but this was the first time I'd actually managed to successfully bite nick which sent him howling in pain. Later in the flight, Nick slipped under the table that was between the seats and started moving in weird contortions. The flight attendant came by and told him that the invisible seat cover is not meant to go under the table and its malfunctioning was what was causing the spasms.
When we got to England, all of the sudden all of the seats were facing forward like a normal airplane and the table was gone. Andrew, Emily, and Nick were nowhere to be found. Most people got up and got off, but a lot of baggage was still left. I got up kind of in a daze and after checking the seat pocket in front of me for all my things and finding my braces case along with dozens of other items that didn't belong to me, I got up to get off. I wondered if all of the baggage strewn about the plane and in the overhead compartments was just as abandoned as the various items in my seatback pocket that I left. Then I realized the plane was still moving. I staggered to the front of the airplane (once I figured out which way the front was -- it was confusing) and found a square room with hand rails and a large window. Apparently the airplane was driving around to different jetway doors around the airport and so at the next one it pulled up to I got off.
When I got into the airport I saw a job listings board and I thought what the hell, might as well look. They were all just sales/retail positions in the little shops in the airport so I moved on. I heard security announcements to lock down the airport and for some reason I assumed they were about me. I saw a curving ramp that went to the parking deck and I went there where I was able to more easily slip out of the airport. I saw the trams and I saw a sign for the taxis. I headed toward the information desk by the taxis to figure out what I was doing since I had nothing planned. I saw advertisements for the job fair on the backs of the benches.
Then I woke up.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
This post ought to be a scathing indictment of our nation's lack of universal healthcare, but rather than rant I'll just advise you watch Sicko and encourage your representatives in congress to vote in favour of it instead and just relate my little story here instead.
My mother asked me to water the plants today with the sprinkler so I set it up and as I was going to go in the house, I slipped on the now wet sidewalk and landed my knee straight on a ceramic dish that was there to feet the cat. I then fell over on the sidewalk and couldn't get back up. I couldn't reach the door to knock for attention, but my sister had heard the dish break and came to the door. After helping me up and in the house, we saw that I had slice my knee open. It was a nice clean cut but it was deep enough to need stitches. At this point I was in shock and had bad nausea and lightheadedness. Reclining on the couch didn't help much, but laying on the floor did. My mother briefly dressed the wound and then went to the phone book to figure out where to take me. Luckily the hospital wasn't very busy and so they were able to get to me quickly. After sanitizing it, they put in six stitches and covered it with gauze. I remarked that it is a good thing my friend Jeremy didn't see it or else he might have wanted some stitches as a fashion statement since they looked like a sort of gothic barbed wire sticking out of my leg. One bizarre thing is that the shots to put the lidocaine in actually hurt more than anything else and they didn't really hurt much. I don't know if the cut didn't hurt much because of the shock/endorphins or because there just isn't much nerve tissue in the area. I think they measured it at 4.5cm long, but I don't know how deep. They billed me the minimum $209 fee while I was there and will send a bill to me for the rest. I also have to get a tetanus shot at the health department within the next 72 hours for $10 (it would have been $94 to get that part at the hospital).
I sure hope I can find a good job in Phoenix soon... now I have this hospital bill, my cell phone is still broken, my car doesn't start and still needs the struts and tires done before it goes to Arizona, and I have no income.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
I was in Phoenix, AZ for the past couple of days for a job fair and last night I had a most fascinating dream which I'd like to relate.
In the dream, I wrote a book. In the book, my friends Andrew and Emily were leasing land from a large old church. They had a small, stone house on the grounds built into a hill almost like a small, man-made cave with supporting beams shaped like stonehenge. Due to it being the church's property, they were limited on the amount of landscaping they could do, in particular making sure to leave alone some almost glowing coloured trees that were scattered scarcely about the grounds. They had a pet lamb and I told them that I would rather have a pet goat with little horns... that that would be more fun. A "retarded" man moves in as their roommate. The rest of the book is a twisted and complex tale based not on evil, but on Levin's perceptions of the world (Levin being the "retarded" man). He is actually positively brilliant, but his entire world is filtered through his physical retardation so his thoughts and actions are based on a reality that to others appears very skewed and so his actions appear to them to be handicapped, as must their actions to him. Though his bizarre world makes perfect sense to him and Andrew's (relatively) normal world makes sense to him, neither could comprehend each other's. The end of the book questions whether Levin's view of the world is really any less real than Andrew's or whether everyone's reality is filtered through their physical makeup and both are valid.
As the dream continues, in a class, I created a tree. I don't know how, but somehow I literally sculpted a living tree from some material rather than growing it from seed. In this school, the typical procedure after a tree was sculpted was to place a paper on it labeling the type of tree and then show it on the school news. As I was mounting the paper, another student instructed me to instead write my name, her name, and the teacher's name in black marker on a bare spot of the tree instead, emphasizing that it ought to be simple and efficiently done. I was bitter -- it was my tree and I didn't want them receiving any credit for its creation. After writing the teacher's name and my classmate's name on my tree, the black marker ran out. I found a yellow marker and instead of simply writing my name, I wrote a several line cryptic dedication beginning with "For Skael, Rachel, and Focus" which all referred to me though presumably others that saw it would be confused.
In another class, someone asked who the last name on the tree was since they couldn't read the yellow text. The teacher simply said that it was me and at the same time I felt admired and hated - in fact, I wanted to feel both. It would be more interesting that way. In reality, probably nobody really cared much one way or the other, but were simply curious what the text said. We were to start reading at page 62 of my book. I suddenly found myself laying in the dark. I tried to understand if the teacher's methods were bizarre or if I was simply fully engrossed in a scene in the book to find myself in such a pose and setting.
After a few moments of such contemplation, I suddenly realized that I wasn't actually dreaming anymore, but that I had awoken and was laying in the bed at my aunt's house where I was sleeping.
The fact that my thought patterns continued on the lines of the dream even several minutes after I'd awakened positively fascinated me. I pondered whether it meant that the book has some relation to my life or whether my brain had just concocted a magnificent story and waking up in a strange place complemented its creative impulse.
Also note, I have no idea where several of the names came from. I'd never heard the name Levin or Skael before. I also have no idea why I referred to myself as both Skael and Focus in addition to Rachel either. I also don't know whether the goat vs. lamb on church grounds has anything to do with the typical religious symbolism imposed on those two animals or whether it has to do with the fact that I really would like a pet goat.
Monday, August 06, 2007
Notes from the trenches...
I recently got back home from a trip to Georgia to move my things into a storage unit. Petty feuds are bullshit. I wish I was rich enough to arrange better housing and transportation on these trips.
While gone, I found out that Petey, my ancient hamster, had finally died. He was a damn good hamster but he was very old and it has been showing more and more since I moved to Texas.
When I went over to check on the other animals, it still smelled like death so I thought my sisters left Petey in his cage dead, but as it turns out, Trinegro, my black female gerbil, died too the night before I arrived and she had not been discovered yet. This leaves me with 5 gerbils in 3 cages left.
I went to a job search place today and remembered how much I fucking hate job searching. It's all about sales and deception. You have to flatter your previous employer who you obviously left for some reason that made them suck. You have to flatter your potential employer telling them how much you want to work for the company when all you want is a fucking paycheck. You have to tell them how qualified you are and how much you can help the company when you don't really know shit. And even if you do all of this soul-selling, the devil just laughs in your face as he tells you with his shit-eating grin to politely fuck off.
So often I try to deceive myself and tell myself that somehow I'm in a higher social class than I am. I try to tell myself that I'm smart and college-educated and that somehow that translates into the inevitability of a wife, 2.5 kids, and a white picket fence. Not that I want any of that shit, but you get the idea. Instead I find out that my college degree is pretty much worthless... a person with a high school education can get 99% of the jobs that I can. I'm buried in debt, my family is buried in debt, nearly all of my friends are working dead-end jobs and only some of them have completed college. Face it, I'm lower class. I should be grateful... look how many people are even worse off than I am.... no wonder we have so many alcoholics and junkies. The rest must be better people than I am to survive it.
The more I see this whole real world thing the more I realize it is all bullshit. It's all a big circle jerk wrapped up in social conventions to hide the crudeness of it all. Jerk the right person the right way and you'll get helped out. Have a little dignity and too bad for you. It's glaringly obvious why the non-privileged so desperately cling to a belief in heaven.
On the other hand, I see people who manage to walk the path without the major personal conflicts that I find without selling out their souls. They find jobs that provide sufficiently for them and give them a little to spare. I can't even get a job in retail...
Too bad there isn't some way to reboot life... but hey, it's the same world so even if you could, the flaws are systematic so you're still fucked.
Too bad there isn't some way to foment revolution and fix it all... but hey, look how well all of the other utopian revolutions have turned out...
I think I'm starting to understand why de Sade wrote The Misfortunes of Virtue.
The American dream is propaganda.
Fuck.