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I wish I was a hunter in search of different food I wish I was the animal which fits into that mood I wish I was a person with unlimited breath I wish I was a heartbeat that never comes to rest — Wish, Run Lola Run |
A few days ago, I waited for Nina to land. As the plane was pulling in, my butterflies were taking off. I hadn't seen her in half a year and was surprisingly nervous. I was definitely chilly, waiting in the frigid airport in a tank-top, shorts, and sandals, but I don't know if that was the cause of my chattering teeth.
I saw her before she saw me, but eventually she spotted me; my butterflies landed and ground control kicked in: greetings, hug, and grab a bag. We hung out much of this weekend which confirmed my crush on her had not been ill founded. This sucks cause she has a boy. He's still in Japan and he's supposed to arrive in October, as he's reminded me the last two times we exchanged words.
I haven't fallen hard for anyone in a long time, and the fact that this would be unrequited, well, it would mirror my school boy crushes of years past. Few things have ever measured up to their intensity, but she's got the potential — as unrequited fantasy or reality.
I'm still foolish enough to hope she could be mine, but I have no desire to fuck with a relationship. First, as a friend, it isn't the right thing to do. Second, as a lover I'd like to start with new happiness and mutual strength, not a transition of conflict and sadness. Still, maybe she could end up single and in still in Boston? That hope inspires school-boy daydreams that are delicious, but equally dangerous. I get stuck on someone like a candy wrapper gets stuck to a shoe — getting walked on only makes me stickier. Sadly, I haven't even been as aggressive, nor as open to others because I've been hoping Nina would end up here. I can't afford to get lost as her boy-filler, helping her bide time. Well, I can help as a friend, but I can't sacrifice myself: get too caught up or waste my time day dreaming. Well... I shouldn't. I have to find that person that can give all I want to give, give some of it back. Focus Joe, focus.
One of the things for which I've been overly "strident" are conventions of cc:'ing and forwarding. I've managed to annoy friends and even my father on this topic. One thing my friend is right about is that my approach is usually not the best way of getting people to do what I'm arguing for; I need to work on a lighter touch! Regardless, my policy for receiving forwards is stated as follows.
There are certain etiquette conventions to email forwarding that are rude to abuse. I'm on a list that has strong social conventions on this topic and you must take some positive action in order to redeem yourself if you abuse them: you have to go find new high quality bits for the list's consumption. I consider these conventions to be a positive thing. For instance:
This issue of forwarding things with people in the cc: came up in the recent arguments of Friday and Monday when my friend asked why I cc:'d her distribution after a couple of iterations of our argument — others obviously got tired of it. She was even so good as to not include me in the cc:, but the bcc: since she knew my preferences. I responded it was because she cc:d them and because I believe the following semantics apply to forwards:
The first reason is the very reason why I refuse to be in many people's cc:s. I can totally sympathize with people that get something from me when I reply to all! This did lead me to considered whether I should've bothered cc:ing her list. I knew some of the people, but not most of them, and I would've been better served by sticking to a strict formulation of a new rule. If the sender is not rigorous about abiding by the semantics {a,b} above, I need to protect the unwilling recipients by the following:
My mistake was that I posted a pointer to my argument, but also included the text, providing an easy capability for a quoted response to all.
My debate with my friend on the article from Friday got quite wily. As a dialectic process, it permitted me to generate some good conceptual formulation and articulation on my part, though it probably upset and annoyed my friend and those she cc:d. I've always known my odd positions on things like the media, government, civil rights, drugs, self respect and integrity, death, etc., are likely to be seen as (1) weird and (2) overly strident. For me to say anything on these topics in polite mixed company I frequently have to preface it with, "You know I'm rather radical, but ..." or represent myself as a rather fuddy-duddy eccentric. To force people to follow their arguments and assumptions through to their logical conclusions is received as hostile. I argued we need to push those argument and expect people to apply their own beliefs in a fair and uniform way! Friday I compared not doing it to the little old lady that dotes on her tweety birds and eats chicken for dinner. My friend responded:
"This is a very catchy little metaphor, but it's taken this argument too far. Individual responsibility has its limits. What if little granny is so moved by your argument that she becomes a vegetarian, thereby causes an increased demand in produce, leading to the exploitation of migrant workers? You could argue this point endlessly! Your little granny would have starved to death trying not to hurt someone through her eating habits, thereby causing sadness to her family, leading to a new session of mourning (and debate, if she was famous enough)."
Aside from her misunderstanding of how much produce animals consume, I totally didn't understand her point. She later raised her point in a different way:
"Have you ever left the theater with a tear in your eye, because a character's story moved you? Well, what a waste of time, those people aren't even real! You're just supporting the entertainment industry!"
I do opt to avoid certain types of movies when I know they communicate things I dislike. I think we affect our world through the media and thoughts we surround ourselves with and promulgate — we build culture. However, I am not willing to sacrifice the individual's choice and freedom in order to enforce my definition of an "utopian" culture. Instead, I try to act as I would not mind everyone else to act (to build my part of the culture I want to see) and permit people to do whatever they want — as long as it does not immediately harm/coerce — and ask them to do better. This affects nearly everything we do.
"Challenge Context: operating — and even offering a solution — in the context of a problem can condone it. This is a difficult principle to abide by without becoming a hermit, but one should still refuse to take context for granted, to always consider before trying to approve the situation regardless."
This leads my brother Greg to do things as extreme as carrying his non-animal soap with him everywhere he goes! Now when this comes to things like leisure time and media, the individual — as always — is primary in her choices. The closer her choices in scope of action are to her own confines, the less I have to say about them. The wider the scope her actions on others, the more likely I am to critique or laud them as they affect (1) me and (2) our joint society. I believe the control/bandwidth/focus of the "news" as distinguished from other media is just such an example of choices that have a wide and important breadth. I will not tell anyone they can't watch something, I will critique people and society that do things that I don't think are quite right.
When my friend said the following, the conflict became clear:
"I guess that means according to you you can never go see a film again. Now do you see how ridiculous all of this is?"
However, this is not at all ridiculous! If I had a moral principle that led to the conclusion that doing something was unethical, I would welcome the push back and support (if people are so kind)!! I try not to change my moral principles to suit their applied inconsistencies!! I do do things that I think are wrong, and instead of pretending they aren't wrong — like most people — I want to be checked, then I can apologize, or work with others to overcome that problem! I want to be challenged and will challenge others, resistance to this is not new ...
A friend pointed out a Washington Post Article entitled " No Comfort In Camelot's Closure" that defends the public attention and mourning regarding the deaths of the "Kennedys." The author Donna Britt stated:
"Camelot wasn't just a dead myth as long as this cute tot, then gawky teen, then handsome man lived... Much of our mourning isn't even for the departed. It's for our own lost dreams, for the lack of control death represents...By crying for Kennedy, I tell my inner cynic, we're crying for all the promising young people who die anonymously before their time."
And my friend's comment was that
"I also know some people out there think all the media coverage is a load of crap and a waste of time, but to you I say: Cram it! Some people care, just learn to respect it."
No surprise where I stand. Caring means little if it is not applied consistently and in priority with respect to reality. The impulse is nice, but can often be used as an escape valve for pressure that should be applied to real issues. It's like the granny that dotes on her tweety birds and eats chicken for dinner. Does she have any compassion for those birds pained and exploited in our "meat production facilities?"
Consequently, evidence of compassion is always welcome to my eyes, but the obsessive nature of these media events shows a public that is irrational, out of touch with reality, and unable to focus their compassion towards improving the world. Furthermore, any defense of this social behavior reinforces the idea that these three people's lives were somehow more special than any other three lives, and I see little evidence of that. And sorry, but I find Britt's "symbology" argument to be slack. I need no metaphor for my dreams, I'm working on them as we speak, oii! And instead of crying for a symbol of young people who die before their time, why not get out their and do something about it! Granted, we all mourn in our own ways, and I am not attacking anyone's personal expression of grief. I cry for some damn silly reasons myself. However the personal is political, when manifested publicly and selectively reported on as a chunk of this nation's attention, and rightfully criticized. To reclaim it as personal — in of all places: the Washington Post — is disingenuous.
Regardless, we all have to die someday. John, and the two women, died because of his own skill/choices as a rational being: piloting is generally easy, most of the training at that level is identifying unsafe conditions and turning back — which they failed to do. I assume (hope) their deaths were relatively sudden and painless and he did died of his own volition. Not a bad way to die and I'd be flattered if my death received that much attention — but I hope for better reasons. For my death to be of interest to the world, it should be a loss to the world — and I know I'm not nearly deserving enough for that.
In preparation to my trip to Hawaii in a few weeks, I emailed Hawaiian e-diarists so as to get the scoop on the local scene. Mary Ann (Freshly Squeezed) already sent me a useful email, including a link to www.spunker.to. Hawaii is gonna be fun, I want to snorkel and play in a waterfall!
I went to Manray last night, nothing much has changed since April — when I had a very bad night that was the predicate to two anxiety filled months. I was going to go, then I wasn't. I was my usual fickle self. I decided not to, but I walked over on impulse after leaving 1369. It wasn't too bad though I was uncomfortable and anti-social; people kept talking to me and I just wanted to be left alone. I wish I could've gone in disguise and just did my own thing instead people asking where I've been, chatting away, or trying to be nice causing me to feel awkward — and then guilty about it. <sigh> I just want to be anonymous and dance, that's it.
I left at 12:30, took a shower and fell right to sleep. But I think I must have had bad dreams because I'm feeling a little shaky inside. But that will be easily remedied, I suspect merely having a nice conversation would get me grounded again. I feel like I've been on my own for the past two weeks — though this weekend I did go swimming with Ann and saw Election with Nils et al.
Kiad asked me about my "anarchism," stating she noticed a hint of anti-capitalistic and socialist bias. I responded: [edited]
yikes! if you aren't finding anarchical thought, but anti-capitalism and hints of socialism i'm doing something wrong! i think socialism as an economic and governance mechanism is totally bogus. u can not ignore that humans are (in the aggregate) stupid and greedy. socialism is far too naive on this point. perhaps capitalism and democracy are the best of all poisons available to us, but still dangerous as institutions of power — even though they are assumed to be a panacea to all social problems. it is because they are touted as such wonderful things that i spend a lot of my time critiquing them. while i think you need to construct social and economic systems that account for and thrive given greed, that does not mean it is a virtue; we should try to do better. do not let congress decide anything that the individual could decide for herself. build robustly in anticipation of stupidity and greed, but expect and push for self-sacrifice and vision.
at an individual level, within a specified scope of empathy, people are quite decent. however, put them together and they are frequently greedy, stupid and disclaim all moral responsibility. to me anarchy is a discursive method that criticizes systems and institutions of power, be they naive or pragmatic.
Recently, I was speaking with a colleague about my stated professional workstyle regarding credit and blame. Dan responded, "Ideally, we'd get along without credit and blame..." and I responded:
Very nice idea. Credit and blame are similar to individual property rights in the context of the (anarcho-capitalist) libertarian approach to governance and markets. Create (property rights | credit and blame) so as to incent people. The more anarchist (communitarian libertarianism) spin is to act on behalf of the community without the need of such ("ultimately distracting and corrupt") forces. [b]
Still, that type of motivation often does work and I sometimes would like to remove myself from the credit and blame completely and let someone also run with the ball...
If I can't be neato, at least my friends are: Katie is GirlGeek of the Week. She even lists Goatee as her favorite Web site! Maybe this'll cause an increase of WebGrrrl traffic to my site — rock on Katie! <grin> Though actually, I haven't a clue about the traffic here because web.mit.edu doesn't keep server logs, and unlike most e-zines I don't have any java counters or a guest book for gratuitous flattery. Hell, I just realized my email address isn't even anywhere on these pages. You gotta dig back up into the main site to send an email. Sometimes I consider moving the site to my desktop server, where I can look at the logs and control access. I'm always amazed by the number of hits I get there given it's only an older backup copy of this site and odd photos that I scan in. But, my site has been at *.mit.edu since '95 and it helps me draw the line between my independent/alum MIT hat and work hat.
I've recently encountered another local GeekGirl: Kiad/SeraphicArtifex. She's a femme that sits in 1369 playing on her laptop while I read a book or zine. I haven't actually spoken to her in person yet; I stumbled onto her site by coincidence and noticed she talked about Central Square type things. Nifty.
I'll finish Bound and Gagged today I'm sure. The other chapters are more interesting than the first, getting into issues of trans-gendered and fat porn: subcultures within subcultures. Tonight I think I'll go check out a activist seminar on police brutality over at North Eastern, or maybe go dancing, I haven't been to Manray since April.
you always turn off the lights, but i can't see in the dark. i talk you to sleep, but you dream of someone else. i want a night light, or i'll hear things in the dark. but you think if i can see, you wan't be able to sleep. tomorrow you'll sleep somewhere else, my sobs won't hold you back. tomorrow i'm gonna dream the eternal dream, i'm gonna turn off the lights.
You probably haven't noticed that much activity on my pages recently, but looks can be deceiving. In the past week I've done a big edit of the anarchist's punk ethic page, brought most of my site closer to spec on HTML and CSS conformance, and I've tweaked a lot of the content (like adding more recent movies to my film page.) I spent a lot of this weekend at the pool where I finished Animal Liberation: highly recommended. I read the first chapter of Bound and Gagged and I'm somewhat disappointed in it because it was a silly narrative of some guy that got busted (entrapped) for conspiracy to make a snuff film. I don't think he should be in jail, but this didn't increase my knowledge or wisdom or insight into anything. I'll probably move through that book pretty quickly, much like the Gandhi book I finished yesterday. Given I already read the Essential Gandhi (in his own words), this book was quite boring. I hope it'd provide contextual and contemporary views of Gandhi that complement his personal history. Unfortunately, it was merely a more verbose and third person account without all the cool ideas expressed in the Essential. I'm looking forward to moving on to the anarchy books and The Moral Animal.
- Urgent Patience
- I'm pushing time with the urgency of an ant, but I wait with the patience of the hive. I struggle as days gasp and fall, but quietly watch the months idle by. Believe me, those passing faces hammer me like a torrent of ice. But every night I go out and sit in the storm hoping it might turn to a shower of warm kisses — even if the pipes are still cold. You see ... it's better than waiting home alone.
"URI design" is a bit of a science and art — not practiced by all Web zinesters. For instance, I often link to a specific daily journal entry elsewhere that I thought interesting. Unfortunately, people often provide their latest entries — which I'm most likely to read and link to — on a front page and then move that content (with a new URI) to an archive, completely killing my links! The trick here is that people frequently link to two types of thing (1) the present content of a dynamic resource and (2) static content. When I'm describing my favorite site, I'm referring to the prior; when I link to a dated journal entry, I'm referring to that latter.
For instance, on my site you can always link to the
most recent version of goatee:
http://goatee.net/index.html
My server dynamically redirects you to the latest dated version
that can be persistently linked to which (today) happens to
be:
http://goatee.net/9906-07.html
and has fragment identifiers to specific dated entries, such as
"#19mo"
http://goatee.net/9906-07.html#19mo
Redirects can happen through one of three methods, listed in my order of preference. Each of these things (whichever you choose) needs to be updated when you have new content (like next month):
server side redirects: redirection is specified in and performed by the HTTP server. For instance, any request to my Apache server with a URL beginning with index will be redirected to the June and July entries.
RedirectMatch temp ^/index\.(.*) http://goatee.net/9906-07.html
client side redirects: redirection is specified in html and performed by the browser. This is useful if you don't control or don't want to place your redirection in the file-system or http server. For instance, embedding this meta tag in your index.html file will redirect people to the June and July entries:
<meta HTTP-EQUIV="Refresh" CONTENT="0; URL=9906-07.html">
file-system symlinks: redirection is performed in file system. The file is seen as and served by your server as any other file. For instance, the following unix shell command will create a file-system symbolic link that gives the server the contents of the June and July entries every time it looks at index.html:
ln -s 9906-07.html index.html
Two femme friends of mine have been speaking of their fresh new boys. I'm envious — and maybe even a little jealous in the one case. Everyone else gets the hook up pretty quick compared to me. But such is life and Boston continues to provide damn little opportunity compared to that of any where else I go. Plus, the rest of this summer is gonna be pretty busy I fear. I never had much time to do the relaxing I wanted to. Before this summer ends I suspect my friend mimi and her boy will visit, and my friend Doris and the family; I'm going to a conference in Hawaii; I know I'll have a business trip to the West Coast; and Nina will be moving back. I'm not complaining, I love to see my friends and family, just seems like the summer will be tight.
On an odd note, check out this web site: "Martin Luther King Jr. - A Historical Examination." You know something is fishy when they laud a David Duke book.
Back from Oslo. Beautiful city amongst beautiful weather and women! Wow. Glad to be home though, and the travel sucked, nearly 24 hours worth of travel for about 4 hours of actual meeting. Surprisingly enough, I don't feel I need to say more than that. I did read Pimp : The Story of My Life while there — amazing book.
I'm presently catching up on email and listening to Michael Brower, member of the Union of Concerned Scientists, talk about his book regarding seven simple steps that could make a dramatic change in our world.
In a couple hours, I'm off to Oslo so as to chair a working group on Monday and Tuesday. But I'm feeling cruddy. Last night Sue and I walked around Mission Hill. It's really a very beautiful town up there with amazing houses. But the whole night my throat was feeling scratchy, and today I'm mucussy and feeling very drowsy. Now I have 8 hours of flying, 2 hours in Heathrow at like 4 a.m., and major time lag to look forward to. Ughh. I hope I don't have a cold when I have to deal with these meetings.
On a cool note, I finally put up a copy of An Anarchist's Punk Ethic, cool gears! It's still rough, I haven't even done a "print and read through" yet, and I want to tweak the presentation such that you can read a compact version of the principles then dig down as you like.
I had some rice silk milk with lunch today, not as bad as Soy, but very expensive, and I'd rather not drink it at all if I had a choice.
I finally got all-1 of my Amazon shipment! It includes books I've been meaning to read (and a DVD), but haven't been able to find in local bookstores. The two tricky ones are the anarchy books — Woodcock book is no longer published, but Amazon found it with a used dealer, and should follow shortly.
Yesterday I made good progress on An Anarchist's Punk Ethic, but it is really hard work. I'm about 60% of the way through, and I'll put up a rough draft once I have it in decent form. Then I'm sure I'll keep editing it, and I want to work on the presentation such that you can dig down from the ethical principle, to my explanation, to supporting quotations. I'll be really pleased with myself when I have it complete.
I also went to StarMarket and had a vegan cheese tasting party for myself. I bought three different types of sliced cheese substitute; I threw the one away <yeuuck> and I'll stick with the others for a while and see what happens. I'll try the vegan cream cheese and yogurt when I get back from Oslo. I haven't bought in any milk in a couple of weeks.
For my birthday, my parents gave me Judith Martin. Miss Manners : A Citizen's Guide to Civility. Not as a hint, but because they know I'm a fan. (Not that I always act the part!) She is one of my favorite writers, very sharp and thoughtful. I find her explanation of manners and etiquette to be so elegant, I want to repeat it here:
Chapter Two: A Brief Definition of Etiquette.
Miss Manners uses the word "manners" to refer to the principles underlying any system of etiquette, and "etiquette" to refer to the particular rules used to express these principles. All societies — along with a great many subgroups organized according to such factors as time, place, family, age, gender, interests or occupation — have etiquette rules. Although these rules may differ widely, they all come from the same mannerly principles.
Because etiquette rules are fashioned to pertain to a particular time and social setting, they are subject to development and change. However, the principles of manners from which they derive their authority from remain constant and universal. Even directly contradictory rules of etiquette prevailing in different society at the same time, or at different times in the same society, may derive their authority from the same principle of matters. [For instance removing a hat in a church, but wearing a hat in a synagogue.]
The Three Subdivision of Etiquette
Regulative Etiquette. Because Regulative Etiquette can be understood functionally, it has an obvious practical purpose and resembles the law, it is the least troublesome type of etiquette to the literal-minded. It restricts freedom of expression more than law does because its function is to prevent conflict, or settle it before it gets serious enough for the law to have to deal with it. It is within every citizen's legal right to tell you that you are ugly, or that your baby is, but it is proscribed by etiquette because exercising this right may turn things really ugly. Then the law will have to step in. But for all its strictness, etiquette is much more flexible and less threatening than law, and therefore more suitable for gently regulating ordinary life.
Symbolic Etiquette: Symbolic rules of etiquette are totally arbitrary, which is why people often assume they can be violated with impunity. If regulative etiquette can't be figured out logically, symbolic etiquette really can't be. There is a whole new set of rules to go with practically every culture, and others with subcultures. Once these rules are learned, however, they provide people with a tremendous fund of nonverbal knowledge about one another, helping them to deal with a wide range of social situations and relationships.
Ritual Etiquette: Its set of well-known patterns provide an aesthetically pleasing and emotionally reassuring sense of social belonging.
The weekend in New York was fun — though very hot. Still, it's good to get away and see how the other half lives. Prior to leaving my obsessive/anxiety was getting out of hand. I started worrying if I was blinking too much, or swallowing too much, and trying not to, but then not being able to stop since I was thinking about it. At that end of that path lies insanity. If it sounds pathetic ... it is. So much so that it makes me want to cry. But I've been a good trooper, doing my best to not fall because it frightens me so much, though it's so hard.
So getting away for the weekend was definitely a good thing, and while that underlying feeling of panic/fear hung with me sometimes, largely I was a normal human being thinking about what was actually going on in the real world around me.
Mimi had 4 people visiting her and Anthony, with two other people staying somewhere else I think. All very nice people. She has that sort of open door hang-out policy that intrigues me. I could never deal with it, and I'm not social enough to make it happen. I guess I'd like it if some people felt comfortable enough to just stop by, like on Seinfeld, but then again, it might be an imposition. So by visiting mimi, I get to be vicariously social, though I usually went to bed before anyone else. <smile>
We also ate at my favorite Italian place, looked in neato stores, took the Ferry, visited PS1 again, walked and walked. I was usually without a shirt, and got harassed by some bitchy employee of Urban Outfitters. I also got to play in a fire-hydrant: these guys opened it up and used a can with both sides removed to direct the torrent. Wow! I wanted to get a little wet, but within a second I was drenched as if I had been submerged. We didn't end up going to Anthony's work roof-top since his boss said it was on the either side of Manhattan, but he was wrong, and we missed them! Oh well, always next year.
I'll keep this short since the network here at LCS is down — I can go home and finish this up perhaps — and I want to go home and go swimming.
My friend Lisa commented on my deodorant rant and pointed me to this absolutely awesome sight!
Did I ever tell you about this bizarre website: http://www.gentlehints.com? For the life of me, I can't figure out if they're serious. Basically, if you're too chicken to tell someone that they smell, this organization will send an anonymous letter to the person, along with some hygiene item (breath mints, soap, deodorant), for around 10 bucks. They guarantee your anonymity. I just sat there looking at this site with my mouth agape, like, "This CAN'T be real." Can you imagine being on the receiving end of one of these packages? I would cry...
Wow! I'm tempted to send this to a friend as a joke, and see if they ever even bring it up.
On the anxiety side, no panic since Monday, but there's an underlying feeling in my gut that is hard to get rid of. When I try to relax/meditate, I end up focussing on it. Sometimes even exercise weirds me out, because with my heart beating and all, it feels like a panic attack. Oh well. I started doing debate practice rehearsals, and was nervous the first time, but enjoyed it. So I'll keep doing that, and working on exercise/relaxation.
On the fun side, I went to a screening of TomorrowTV last night. Sue and I were supposed to hang out, and her friend/roommate April had seen a flier for a free film that night, so we met in Chinatown at the Oni gallery. Turns out this event was the same thing trouble told me about last week, but never emailed me the info since she was on vacation. Consequently trouble was spinning as DJ Ripley and I saw a bunch of people I didn't expect to! Since the film wasn't starting for an hour, April, Sue and I headed off to Budha's Delight for veggie Wonton soup; they've since moved upstairs since the flood and it's a really nice space. By the time we got back, there was standing room only, but the film rocked! It was a sharp and slick puppet and computer graphic production, intermixed with funky commercials and visuals. It combined the apathy and cynicism of cyberpunk and a "hack the media" skepticism that reminded me of bits of Robocop and Max Headroom. Afterwards, folks went to a nearby club for the after-party. At midnight, DJ Ripley stepped up play Rasta break-beats but a couple of us had to leave soon to catch the T back to Central Sq.
This weekend I'm off to NYC to visit mimi for some fun and fireworks; the view will be awesome.
Yikes. Yesterday I had a panic attack. Reminded of itself a couple times during the day, and got me to obsessing and worrying about it. It even woke me up at 6 a.m. this morning. I have a meeting in two weeks, I'm sort of looking forward to the meeting and having it go well. But when that feeling of panic hits me, my mind just obsesses on the most inane stupid anxiety. There is NO reason to be stressed. I enjoy public speaking and running a meeting. Otherwise I'm bored if I'm in the audience! And being stressed doesn't help anything. I've always been a stress freak, but usually there was something to it, now I freak about anxiety. A sort of disappointing backwards step in my otherwise advancing psychological/emotional/spiritual advancement. And as a control freak, it really bugs me, but perhaps that obsession will prevail over the anxiety. Some thoughts tend to turn the situation around, or maybe it turns around by itself and those thoughts then take on a new shine. Regardless, the control freak thought is, "it's a beautiful summer out, you will not be a miserable anxious freak for the next two weeks culminating in some anxiety break down! It ain't worth it, it's useless, so why do that to yourself?!" At some point yesterday, that thought reassured me. I guess I got to get my butt in gear and think up a list of such useful/positive thoughts, and do the whole relaxation thing. But unfortunately, I found that if I am stressed, bringing up a relaxation mode might even trigger more anxiety, since the last time I tried it, I was freaking out. It's all so stupid.
Given the heat here in Boston, I'm reminded of the failure of capitalism in the anti-perspirant/deodorant economy — revolution my stinky comrades! <smile> The problem is I can't find one I like even amongst all the selection. I'm happy with the arrival of the clear sticks that have come out en-mass lately, but they all stink. Selecting between 40 different brands entitled "sport scent," and "mule musk," wheeuff! I don't know why, but I can't find one that doesn't bring tears to my eyes when I put it on — even when I go with the things that might seem light, like "whisp of air." Everything is too damn scented in this country. Even the Kleenexes I use to wipe away the tears caused by someone's overwhelming perfume! A perfect world is where only naturally pleasant things smell. So I'm stuck with a stick of "ocean breeze" for the next year — they last me a while since I often don't need anything or opt for talcum/baby powder instead. When I find an unscented brand, I'm gonna stock up!
This weekend felt like vacation. On Saturday Katie and I decided to go on an expedition to find a swimming hole. Granted, the sprinklers/fountains in the park next door are nice, but they are not the same thing as swimming. I figured we should see if it's possible to go to Walden pond without a car, or investigate a pool I once saw by the river. Given we got a late start on the day, we opted for the local expedition and found the public pool! Unlike the first time I saw it, 4 years ago, it was open and filled with lots of people — mostly kids — but not overly crowded. I'm so psyched! I'll be swimming this whole summer.
I forgot to look at the hours. I'd like to go after hours regardless. At least, I'd sit with my feet in the pool and watch the moonlit boats float by on the Charles. Optimally, I'd float on my back, watching the stars, while I slightly bob with every breath and listen to the sounds of my body under the water: my rhaspy breath and heart beat — natural sonar. Plus, there's always skinny-dipping! I didn't see any alarms or cameras, just a fence, but I'm sure cops patrol it. I went on the Web to see if I could find its hours. I failed finding a page on "public pool cambridge", but ended up finding an article on boobs and public bathing: Women Take Back Their Breasts. I spent most of this weekend topless myself and was even asked by a security guard in the Coply Plaza to put a shirt on! Like Linda Meyer said, "My lovely nipples are not indecent." <smile>
Otherwise, I spent the weekend in the park, or reading in Harvard Square and Central Square. When I wasn't wet, I was still. It was hot, a silent heat, the kind that whispers: just sit, no movement but watch, and feel the time still, then slip by.
I've been reading Mona Lisa Overdrive. I think I read it before, but a long time ago. Also, of course, I spend a big chunk of time watching all the cuties in their tank tops walk by. Pretty sweet given it was really hot out, but eventually it got sort of frustrating, enough already! Mercy me.
Of all the things I've read about Kosovo, the following report has to be one of the most disgusting and infuriating. Ironically, it's about the Albanian's treatment of their own wives and daughters following this tragedy.
Elisabeth Bumiller. Kosovo Victims' Must Choose to Deny Rape or Be Hated. New York Times. June 22 1999.
There aren't enough profanities around to adequately heap on this fuck-head of a husband Behan Thaqi. Also, I can't help but have my atheistic rancor rise when ostracizing women who are raped is linked to a "Muslim society in which the virginity and fidelity of women are central."
Sometimes this stuff depresses me enough that I feel like, "fuck em all." There are no bad guys, evil stupidity, and selfishness permeates and weakens the human fabric, a little tension, and it tears. My only regret in being an atheist is that I don't believe these people will get what they have coming to them, there is no hell. Then I think, where are the good guys? There's got to be some stories of heroism and backbone in this mess. One night on Nightline, there was a bunch of Albanians talking about a Serb in the corner, who had helped them when the other Serbs were "ethnically cleansing," they said they'd leave him be, wouldn't extract retribution. I was glad to hear one hopeful story amongst the mess. But I think we need more.
Spent this weekend in Baltimore. It is good to see family, but I am just so bored there. It isn't long before I'm zonked out watching stupid TV or falling asleep. Part of it relates to my great dislike of suburbia. What do you do? I spent my teenage years reading and playing on the computer. That's it.
In Cambridge, I try to avoid the computer, read in nice locals or hangout with friends, take naps outside on comfy grass, do chores, go and see things — be active and happy! In Baltimore I don't have any friends, and it sometimes reminds me of the terrible periods of angst and loneliness I had in that house.
We did go for a walk in a park, but it took nearly 40 minutes to drive there, which is part of the fun for my family I guess, though I hate being in cars and it makes me feel car sick. It was also uncharacteristically cold, so I didn't do any swimming. When I left, it was cold and raining, and I remember sitting in my window seat on the plane listening to Crass as we were pushed back from the gate — odd feeling.
Today, I saw an interesting slam of Ramsey Clark on Salon, which characterized him as "the war criminal's best friend." He was one of the few people in government that acted with any integrity during the Vietnam war. And yes, he's criticized the US during the Gulf War, but have a look at what we did. Which war criminals are they speaking of? There is a sufficient amount of writing and analysis on this to enable me to figure out if Salon is spouting propaganda, or if Clark is a little loopy. As I mentioned on Serbia, all governments should be challenged and criticized, no media should be believed, but that doesn't necessarily mean if someone criticizes the US they are supporting another nationalistic/fascist country. I look forward to getting to the bottom of this.
My arms/shoulders have been killing me, but at least I haven't been freaking too much about it. Maybe this time next week things will be better? I started my campaign to catch-up on sci-fi/cyber and read Idoru. It is fun see places in Tokyo mentioned in the book that I actually visited. I also like the idea of nodalities: high order pattern recognition from the massive quantities of Net information. Continuing on the cyber note, Wednesday trouble and I watched my DVD copy of Ghost In the Shell. Doing anything with her always brings a new layer of texture/depth to it since she's so sharp. And of course, my voice got a little hoarse since when we talk, we talk constantly: an unending series of literary, economic, social, and psychological references, theories and arguments. Tonight I'm going to see the Matrix again with Masha: "I know Kung-Fu!"
Last night I had dinner with Katie and we saw a movie at Kendal — very un-cyber. The IMDB comment for King of Masks (Bian Lian) is, "The perfect antidote to Star Wars!" An amazing movie, it's still with me. A very touching film about gender issues (the value of female children) in Chinese society. Of course, it is touching not because it addresses "gender issues," but because of the actors and their characters in that cultural context. The plot is a bit predictable, but in a good way, a sort of fairy tale way — which fits the metaphor provided by references to a Chinese Opera. I knew what I hoped would happen, and the film maker (a Chinese exile who lived in America for the past 6 years) did eventually give it to me, but not in the way I thought he would.
Yesterday I was having lunch with Masha and we were talking about Austin Powers: The Spy That Shagged Me, recalling the funny lines and scenes. (I'm waiting for the Internet Movie Data Base to put up the "memorable quotes" for this movie already!) In a credits scene, Austin finds himself from a different time line shaggin his girl, I said something like "Well, if I met up with the male version of myself." We both thought it funny.
Not much else to report, or at least my hands won't bear it. I'm trying to go easy on them, and if I have any recreational time on my tendons, I want to return to An Anarchist's Ethic essay and get that done. On that note, Lucy Parson's is having their Grand Reopening this weekend in the South End (formerly in Central Square), but I'll be in Baltimore visiting family.
Ugh. Last night I was managing to do a good job of pushing off my hand annoyance while hanging out with Sue. Finally, I went to go to bed, settled down and was ready to fall into comfy dreams in the cool night air... but thought "Wouldn't it suck if my hand worries prompted anxiety?" Voom, my heart beat took off, I could feel everything tense, and I couldn't sleep. My mind starts obsessing: "Oh my god, if I get tense and can't sleep, my hands will get even worse. I won't be able to type, I'll lose my job, etc." That big freak-out two months ago introduced this concept of frightful anxiety for anxiety's sake into my life, and it's hard to escape it. I've had anxiety and depression in the past, but now the difference is that a lot of the anxiety is about the anxiety itself. Definitely odd.
But rather than lay in bed all night, I went for a very long walk and ended up watching 2 a.m. chess games in Harvard Sq. That was good cause I enjoyed watching the games and got my mind off the obsessive track. I did manage to go to bed at 3:30 a.m. So this was the second time it's happened and it wasn't too bad. Maybe I got a couple in store, and hopefully each one will be less.
Also, walking around in the context of feeling freaked-out without any reason, I had some insight into the concept of faith. Depending on my state of my mind, the world can seem great or horrid. Faith is the exertion, even in the face of anxiety/sadness, that the good side is there. Belief begets reality.
Hands are not that hot today, but I'm managing. I'm not touching a computer at all this weekend. It's Austin Powers, Gay Pride, and Chinese boat race weekend anyways, should be fun.
Man, my arms/hands are bothering me. There are always ups-and-downs, but when the pain follows me home, it worries me; preys on my mind. Is this going to be the one that renders me unemployable? Is this going to kick me into a depression? It's hard not to get depressed when everything you do (brush your teeth, open a door, lift a coffee cup) hurts. Doesn't have to be a big pain really, but just being constantly aware that the potential is there, it's demoralizing. Plus, it jogs the memory of the first time this flared up: the pain, my fear that everyone thought I was imagining it, the doctors who said things like, "come back when it's swollen and then we can do surgery," and the subsequent change in career plans. Oddly, I'm glad I don't code anymore, and my career is pretty nifty. But that's after the fact, like now I'm glad my engagement broke up four years ago, but back then it was hell. Even though I'm an atheist, I still make those promises to someone, even if not a God: "If this gets better I promise I'll keep workpace installed and use it all the time, even when my hands feel fine."
Two lighter observations:
<sneeze> Even though I'm "on the pill" I'm a mucus monster. Aside from the crazy heat, Boston has been covered in a dusting of powdered ... green stuff. At the end of last week people car's were covered in a patina of allergens. Windshields have that post-vacation look of smeared bird doo and bug brains, encrusted at the periphery of the wipers' reach. I'm going to have to give up dusting all my cool black furniture and AV equipment — it's no use. I haven't minded the heat too much. I sleep less, which my mind can handle in the summer, though my hands complain from typing given they never seem to wake up. Today it's much cooler and cloudy, we might even get some rain, which I welcome. If it were still hot, I'd run around in it in my swim trunks; I wish they turn on the fountains in the park next to me already; I think 100° weather merits it.
I've been working hard, being productive in the time given; that's the benefit of sore hands. I work to go home, instead of screwing around on the computer. I reinstalled workpace, which makes me take breaks too, so I'm forced to take the time to go sit in the sun for 10 minutes twice a day. However, this means I'm making zilch progress on finding sound editing software and working on my audio documentary. Oh well.
My new roommate was here for less than a week; I think her summer subletter is moving in today. My landlord acted uncharacteristically jerky saying he's gonna send the lease back, and we are both responsible for the full amount. My landlord kept removing her from the cc: and sending me these emails. Turns out, my roommate didn't pay her rent yet. Ok, understandable, she didn't know where to send it and was a bit out of sorts with the move. A nice email to her would've done the job easily enough. I hate renting. If I knew where I was going with my life, I'd put that money towards a place instead of throwing it away.
Last night Nils, Brett and I went to see Casablanca outside in the Boston Commons. Pretty nifty. I've never seen it, and wanted to catch some of it, just to see what it was all about. We ended up being catty on the way home. Rick was still bent out of shape after not hooking up with a girl he spent a whole week or so with? So she didn't meet him at the train-station, it was war time, shit happens! And what was that, two or three years ago? This brother has a worse time moving on than me. Plus there was the whole subservient black man thing. Sam's his dearest and oldest friend, and the reason Rick's saloon is a success, but it's always "Yes, sir" or "Mister Rick." I know he's an employee, but what's going on in Sam's life? He's just a white character's prop. (Though relatively speaking, this was one of the most positive portrayals of an African-American at the time.)
I figured I might collect interesting banners I come across here.
This one is part of a women's banner network. It is sort of funny, though I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because it sounds like a personal, or that anything can be bannerized now. Plus, I dig the whole gURL thing anyway, I'm envious actually.
Grrr. I got a little sunburnt this weekend which greatly annoys me because it demonstrates a carelessness: not being aware and thinking things through. Never-the-less, it was procured in an enjoyable way. Sunday morning I left the apartment figuring to walk through Central Square's World Fair, but bumped into Katie and Juan and ended up making a day of walking around in the sun — without sun block.
I'm feeling gossipy about things and as I get more comfortable posting my thoughts here daily, I fear my discretion will dissolve. But I'll stick to the maxim that I spoke of earlier: "I don't dwell on others. I figure this writing is about me and my thoughts. Sometimes that involves other people, but I'm not here to gossip about them." With that said, I suspect the past 3 days have presented evidence that the sense of disappointment and resignation I felt in March and April is closing in on itself. Sad. But such is life, and my life isn't so bad.
I've been reading lots of punk rock interviews. They are better than any other type because people actually have interesting things to say. I finally caught up on the anarchism of Crass, and read the Ian Mackaye's interview in the recent Punk Planet plus I liked his story in last month's Monozine. I figure he's the most interviewed man in the world — even showing up in The Onion! Whenever I read about him I think, "Man, I wish he was my friend." He's so together: thoughtful, full of integrity, and working hard. I know a few people like this, but not enough. I like Katie for sort of this reason, sharp/together girl taking the big picture in a positive direction. I'm looking forward to rejoining the ranks. I've probably been focussing on my failures to handle some situations too long; they are definitely there and I know it, I apologize for it. But in a way ... even apologizing for them ... condones them. I got to start thinking and acting in a way that reflects I am together, positive, and able to handle and support whatever is thrown in my way.
A friend I haven't heard from in a year asked me if I was going to the boredoms show. I don't much like shows, and I'll be glad to see her if I can regardless, but maybe I should check it out — I'll just have to remember to take my ear-plugs.
Oh, and on the "isn't the Web cool?" note, I found someone's purse this weekend. I was walking home late Saturday night and saw it laying on the steps of a store on Mass Ave. At first I passed it thinking maybe the person will return for it, and why should I mess with it? Then I thought, if anyone will do a good and honest job of tracking down the owner, it's me. There was a college ID, but no contact info; I went to the University of Michigan site, typed in her name and left a message at the given Michigan phone number and sent an email. I got an email back later in the day and gave her the purse that evening!
we're not the first, i hope we're not the last | 'cause i know we're all heading for that adult crash | the time is so little, the time belongs to us | why is everybody in such a fucking rush?
So today is the day, a bit older, and perhaps wiser. I think on Monday and Tuesday I was spoiling for a rant. About my frustration with relationships. How I can work hard and try to be righteous in everything else, but I can't work for love — or at least it's gotta find me first. How I haven't had a soul mate in over four years — the type of person I can trust to know me better than I know myself. How in the past two years I haven't even had a relationship where there was an adequate emotional and physical expression of affection/intimacy. How when I meet a person I really dig in a big way maybe once or twice a year, they either live in some other part of the world or with someone else. (Hrmm... so the next mystery person is due soon then...!) And I'm getting older all the while. But, what'cha gonna do? To call it a desert is an overstatement; the time I shared with people was well spent. To say it is an oasis or mirage; I can't make the call. But I've also been happy enough for a lot of that time and getting my feet wet in the process.
I don't know why the rant petered out. It was pretty hard-core. But I think I'm coming down with a cold and it's making me feel a bit more sedate. Plus, I've been hanging with friends — always nice. I saw Sue last night and she gave me this beautiful journal she made for me; artistic folk are so cool. Katie ushered in my birthday last night with me, laying on the cushy playground asphalt with our feet on the swings, trying to spot stars through the clouds. Nils and Brett took me to the pizza place over in Haymarket for lunch today. And I think I'm having dinner tonight with folks, hopefully my stomach will be feeling ok.
Sue and I had walked to Waterstones'. They are closing and everything was 50% less. The shelves were as empty — makes me feel sad. But I got some cool books: two more Gandhi books, Improve Your Chess Now, (I wanna get back into that this summer), and The Radicalism Handbook. Very cool!
"You mean cute in a Marianne, not Ginger way?" — cute/clever statement of Katie (she's full of them).
you see me and you think i'm a jerk | first impresions without a word | you can't believe your eyes at first | but now you know you've seen the worst
Unlike last weekend, I had no plans but ended up being busy. On Friday I was in a deep funk; if I was planning for anything I was planning for a miserable and long weekend. But Friday evening Nils called me at the last minute to go see Your Kiss which was showing as part of the Boston Gay and Lesbian Film Festival. A funny movie, I'm dumbfounded as to why it hasn't found a US distributor yet. Yes it's gay and has some kissing scenes, but that hurdle has already been jumped in America cinema.
Also, I had spoken to Ann earlier in the day. She asked about my mood and after hearing something to the effect of, "You mean beyond the funk that is my life?" she decided to make me go bike riding on Saturday, which was lots of fun. Saturday evening, I hung out with Warren, et al in Pizzeria Uno in Harvard Sq discussing StarWars till 2 a.m. Sunday I went to see StarWars for a second time (I liked it better). Later, Trouble gave me a call; she finished moving out of her apartment and was feeling Central Square homesick. We chilled in the summar air, rented a video and had some rockin conversations as always. Monday morning, more time with trouble, then on to Wonderland to go to the beach with Masha. I returned to Central Sq for left-over tortilini and headed off to 1369. I chatted with Patrick who I hadn't talked to for a week and introduced him to the wonder that is Red Dwarf on my big ass TV.
So, I stayed pretty busy! But during Monday afternoon the funk had definitely caught up on me, and I bailed on Masha early and probably hurt her feelings given it was our one year anniversary — I was being a total lame-o. But if I feel it coming, no sense in making her see it. I wrote an apology:
sometimes i'm not the happiest person. (i'm not half the man i used to be — tee hee) and i try to be good, to socialize, keep it light and friendly. i really do. and frequently it helps. i was going into this weekend in such a bad funk but my friends pulled my keister out of the fire and made it a good one. but sometimes that fuel runs out, or it doesn't last that long. u know? and i can feel it, and i know you can too. i'm sorry.
I got these feelings of disappointment and failure fuckin with my head, and with my approaching birthday... maybe I'll reflect more on it at that time. The simple truth is, I suck at being single. Still, on balance, it was a good weekend and I should keep things positive. Yummy summer things from this weekend:
"Just because I'm open and give of myself freely, don't think it doesn't cost me anything." - Thought unsaid many times before.
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