Too Early For Suicide?

Seriously, look at your watch. How often does suicide cross your mind dear friends? ("Elk" friends would make no sense). My guess is that it would not be often, but, I'd also wager that it might be a bit more then one would typically guess.

Would it be out of line to venture that your suicide fantasies might be on par with The Christmas Story's young protagonist Ralphie, when he envisioned himself going blind later in life, rightfully making his parents grief-stricken and regretful for sending him to his room and washing his mouth out with soap all those years ago?

I'm sure we've all thought how our own death would devastate a family member or an ex lover, though, sadly, we would not be conscious to enjoy it (as far as we know). Yes, friends, I've been through this, "I'll make you sorry", line of thought since I was a youngster, but this whole phase is new, and unfortunately more serious.

I've thought calmly, and with disquieting frequency, about ending my life in the last year. Thoughts that have gnawed at me with greater and greater tenacity as time moves on. This time they are not because my Dad gave me a spanking, or the girl at school I had a crush on likes another boy.

ME VS. LIFE

For the longest time (by Billy Joel), what has somehow kept me from really wallowing in the notion of killing myself at any time and place was a viewpoint I held, in which I was facing off against the personification of existence itself, and were I to just give up and end it all, life would win. I would have willingly admitted, for all to see and interpret, that I was too weak or unable to solve my own problems in life. I couldn't cut it, I failed, I gave up. Literally, life would have gotten the better of me.

Just like the poor loser in sports games from childhood, the kid who found himself on the short end of the stick, and did not have the sportsmanship (yes, I'm citing sports), the good humor, or the willingness to try harder, decides to dramatically quit mid-game out of frustration, making sure to call plenty of attention to himself, and how "unfair" or "unfun" the game has become. In reality, no one likes this kid. He is a poor participant, immature and childish.

I don't want to be this kid, and for years, the idea of becoming that kid has stopped me from doing the dramatic version of leaving the sports game when things aren't going my way. And oh, how they aren't. Oh.

And I'm not alone (well, I am, but you know what I meant). My own sister, who by all accounts is an extremely intellectual, witty, creative, aware, and humorous female, is also feeling this way. What would cause such an intelligent person, who obviously has a lot of great traits and talents, a person that could do something wonderful in this world, to become so disillusioned, faint, and filled with despair? And if both my sister and I suffer from this, could there be something related, perhaps something genetic? Or are we both simply victims of an overactive mind?

THE STATE OF THE UNION

At this point A) you're still reading, and B) you may be saying, "Things can't really be that bad, Niko," or, "You're just being overly dramatic," or even, "What a douche. Go cry to your fucking mom you pathetic child," which I do by the way. Often. Except replace the mom with a dead cat, and replace the dead cat with the memory of the dead cat, and then you got it about right.

As I often lament, and mostly from an exaggerated point of view, that I literally (figuratively) have nothing. Literally. (Figuratively).

Thats just how I feel. To me, and let me state that I'm quite good at taking things for granted, my current existence is all for naught. Dramatic? Sure. Emotionally accurate (notice the word 'emotionally' to qualify the accurate)? It sure feels that way.

2008 was, and so far still is the worst year of my life to date, but things have not really brightened up much since. I still struggle in almost every facet a person can struggle in: mentally, emotionally, physically, financially. Not spiritually though, since there is no such thing as spirit (beyond the one Nirvana smelled).

To keep things a bit more general, one of the biggest deficiencies in my life is the lack of anything even the least bit enjoyable, and positive. In a nutshell (why one would be in one of those I'll never know), I have absolutely nothing to look forward to. Seriously. Not a god damned thing. And that, my "friends", really sucks.

HAPPY LITTLE TREES

Let me paint you a lovely Bob Ross-esque panorama of my existential bitterness (you can't resell it though). Last time, we created a beautiful lake in the foreground, painted in vibrant Inability To Accomplish Your Goals, surrounded by a leafy deciduous forest, consisting of a delicate blend of Guilt For Not Accomplishing Enough and No Solace From Pressure And Obligation. See how the light dances over those highlights?

Next take your number 2 brush, and let's load it with a bit of Overly Negative Self Image and Cavernous Insecurities and lets paint in a big mountain. Your mountain can live anywhere you'd like it to. There we go. That looks nice and insurmountable.

And lastly for the sky, since we already put down a layer of Desperate Need To Be Appreciated And Loved, which I had already mixed ahead of time with plenty of Inability To Assimilate Into Common Social Environments, just to help the paint stick to the canvas.

To this we'll put the last metaphorical touches on our painting, namely the light fluffy clouds that represent any and all worthwhile moments of existence that help pad the onslaught of dreary, bleak and and life de-firming bile that makes up the majority of the waking hours. No need to paint the bile, I think it can be inferred from the fluffy white clouds that are quickly drifting away on the breeze from the nearby dog food factory, never to be seen again.

EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE ALRIGHT

Do you know what does not help? Throwing me shallow cultural proverbs designed to lift the spirits (by 'lift the spirits' I mean a way for you to say something without getting personal, and make yourself feel better).

"Well, sorry to hear that, but don't worry, things are going to be alright."

Really? You know this. . . how? An amazing gift to see into the fourth dimension and view the outcome of future events? WOW!!

Don't ever tell me that things are going to be okay. Fuck, that pisses me off.

You have no idea how 'things' are going to be for me, and to simply say something just because it sounds pleasant, and has no grounded, factual basis, only helps to add to my bleakness and depression by making me enraged as well. Bullshit does not comfort me. It solves nothing beyond you feeling somehow better that you said something. Void, and empty of genuine examination and solution of the problem(s) at hand, but still something.

Never say that to me again.

THE PEANUT BUTTER SOLUTION

If there is a solution to this abyss of apathetic dissipation, I've not found it yet. I have trouble getting beyond the simple assessment of how much I don't enjoy living. I'm beginning to see that I seem to like piling all of my frustrations and problems into one lump sum, making them unwieldy and overwhelming.

Viewing the awful representational conglomerate from a distance it can often look rather silly. Yet it does not change the fact that I am extremely unhappy with damn near everything and anything. Being the pleasure-based creatures we are today, why would I want to continue an existence that was starkly absent of any bit of pleasure? What would be the incentive for me to "keep on keepin' on"? Hope? Hope for what? Don't get me started. Or actually, do get me started, but not until another blog.

With nothing to look forward to (my biased, subjective outlook of course), no respite from my own depression, strange guilt, internal and external frustration, loneliness and failure, I truly find it challenging to come up with a list of reasons for perpetuating what feels like mental and emotional molestation. And in my version, no one buys me a toy afterwards to keep me quiet.

We all deal with shit, and none of us are always happy, nor should we be. For all I know everything I feel could be a product of my built-in neural chemistry, by which I mean a "programmed" response. Something out of my control. Does that help to make it any better? Fuck no. The things I have to offer the world, no one seems to want, and the things the world tries to offer me I am violently allergic to. I believe this is what the proud Lakota Sioux call a "good trade".

EVERY LITTLE STEP (L.A. REID/BABYFACE)

Honestly people, this is not a cry for help, just an airing of my emotional laundry (which reminds me, I need to do my physical laundry. All of my socks are becoming potent enough to be used in the chamber on death row. Not the most humane way to go, I can attest).

I still don't want to be the childish kid that leaves the game early, then makes up excuses as to why they never wanted to play in the first place. (Hasn't this whole blog been a list of excuses?).

Obviously, the problem(s) lies with me, not the outside world. The only way I can rid myself of this excruciating spinning-kiddy-ride (as I've tried holding up two fingers for quite some time now) is to stop looking at everything as the fully assembled Voltron mega warrior, but instead as each individual robot cat. As much as I love viewing the collective garbage heap of my life, progress can only be made by removing each soiled diaper and used condom individually.

Of course I'm probably just being dramatic and emotional about what is essentially a miniscule blemish on my otherwise pristine, super-privilaged rip-roaring existence.

By my clock it's barely even lunch time. Too early for suicide?



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Tags: suicide commit death die dying life exist existence psychology philosophy sarcasm

You Should Meet My Friend Niko.

"Hey there you!"

"Hey!"

*hugs*

"It's great to see you again! You look great!"

"Yeah you too! It's been quite a while, hasn't it?"

"Too long. Let's sit down and grab a drink. Have you been here before?"

"No, I like it though. Looks nice."

"I like it a lot. Nice atmosphere you know? Oh! You should try this one, it's awesome." *Points to drink menu*

"Sounds good. I'll give it a try."

"So what have you been up to since I saw you last?"

"Wow. All kinds of stuff. I've been pretty busy for sure."

"Are you and. . . what's his name. . . still together . . "

". . . no. We broke up a while ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I didn't know."

"It's okay. It's probably for the best. I've actually tried to go on a few dates here and there, but so far nothing worthwhile."

"You know, I have a friend that's single, very interesting guy. You might like him."

"Oh? Who?"

"This guy named Niko. He's a musician."

"Hmmm. I don't know about the musician thing, but what's he like?"

"Well, he's kind of an odd guy really. He's kinda hard to describe."

"What do you mean odd? What does he do that's odd?"

"In regards to relationships, he doesn't really date much. He says he has a lot of weird issues about sex and love. I'm not really sure what that's all about but he made a big deal about it."

"He's got relationship issues? I don't know. . . Well, I guess, to be fair, we all have our issues. Is that all that makes him odd? He doesn't date much, or has issues about relationships? That doesn't seem that odd."

"Well no, he also acts very pretentious, you know, like he's smarter, better, and more talented than everyone else."

"That doesn't sound very good."

"Nope. Not really. He's kind of an elitist. If you don't know certain things, or topics he instantly thinks less of you and acts very dismissive and condescending."

"He sounds like an ass."

"He sure can be. He's not always an ass though. Sometimes he's really insecure about nearly everything about himself, and spends hours pacing around his small apartment dwelling on everything that is wrong with him. I guess you could call him a bit of a pessimist"

"So he's a bunch of fun then?!" *laughs*

"Ha ha ha. He can be a real downer at times. Really bitter and sarcastic. Niko's like an angry, jaded old man who hates most things."

"And you're trying to set me up with this guy?"

"Well, I guess, yeah. I mean, he's not all bad. He's really passionate about music. He's written some interesting things over the years. Well, assuming you like that kind of stuff."

"What do you mean "that kind of stuff"? You don't like his music?"

"Well, I like a few things here and there, but his new stuff is really, well, just like he is. Pretentious, and overly complex."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that. . ."

"Totally. It's the kind of music that makes you feel dumb for not knowing music theory or whatever."

"Great. So he's an ass who thinks a lot of his music that only college people would get, and he's also a bitter angry downer? Where do I sign up?!" *laughter*

"Ha ha ha! Pretty much, pretty much. I mean, well, he's actually a really intelligent guy though. But the more I think about it, it actually kinda sucks because he makes you feel stupid every time you pronounce a word wrong, or are not familiar with an outdated cultural reference."

"I just have to ask. What does this guy do for fun?" *giggles*

"Honestly, I have no idea. I think he just sits around at his apartment reading philosophy books or yelling at Youtube videos or something. Come to think of it, I don't think he really leaves his place much. He's like an introverted hermit type of guy. I don't think he likes people very much."

"You can stop selling me on this guy now. I really don't want to meet him. He sounds like everything I would not want in a guy, or at least the bad sides of things I may want. Are you sure this guy is real? It sounds like a character from a bad movie or something!"

"Oh he's real. I just talked to him the other day about how much he resents other people's happiness, or something like that. Then he talked my ear off about how anyone who believes in anything remotely spiritual or metaphysical are deluded and completely ignorant. Seriously! He went on and on about how much he hated religion, belief and faith. Needless to say I don't talk to him that much!"

"Heh heh heh! Man, I really don't like people who are like that. They are always trying to point out everyone's flaws and basically ruin everyone else's happiness. I bet he has no sense of humor."

"Strangely enough, he actually does, and when he's not making obscure references to things I've never heard of, or really offensive jokes about inappropriate subjects, he can be pretty funny."

"That was almost the first good thing you said about him. Minus the offensive humor or overly intellectual stuff. Damn. What a weird sounding guy. Now I almost want to meet him now, just to see if this is really true. Not to date him, mind you."

"Yeah, I guess I don't blame you. Heh heh heh. After talking about him, I realize he does seem like a pretty awkward and sad human being. So what did we come up with so far? He's arrogant and elitist, he writes pretentious and complicated music that no one else would understand. . ."

"Heh probably because he desperately wants to impress people."

"Ha, yeah, probably. That makes sense. So he's also really insecure about himself, and dwells on everything that sucks in his life, he's angry and bitter like an old man, he hates spirituality and religion, which, of course, is always a very inviting quality." *laughs*

" He's not a people person, he never goes outside of his dark cave, he's got weird issues with relationships and sex, and he's apparently offensive or obscure with his humor, which really, is just another way for him to act like an elitist I guess."

"Good point. Man, I guess he really has some serious psychological issues huh?"

"I'd say so, yeah. I almost feel sorry for him, the way you describe him. He sounds so pathetic and lonely. All this stuff about him acting overly intellectual and stuff, it sounds like he needs to impress everyone, or feel superior."

"Did I mention he barely has any money?!"

"Ha ha ha, please stop! I don't think this can get any better! Ha ha. . ."

"Well then. Pretend I never said anything about him! Ha ha ha. I think I might know someone else who you might actually want to date."

"As long as he's nothing like that guy! He he he he. So, are you feeling hungry at all?"




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Tags: humor self+deprecating terrible human being pathetic elitist pretentious awful

Sports Hatred

The tension is thick. The star player drives up the court, ball in hand, seconds left on the clock. The crowd stares, transfixed in the excitement, as collective breathing slows. All eyes on him, the player finds his moment, he jumps, he shoots and. . . . who fucking gives a shit!! OH!!!

That's right, I'm not a sports fan. In general. Never have been. Which make my balls ripe for the eating, by you (care for a condiment?). And yes, this entire essay will be devoted my hatred of professional sports, their fans, and the psychology thereof. Are your defenses up yet?

I've wondered (with rage) for a long time what people seem to see in professional sports. Why the importance placed on them? Why so much passion for it? Why does it seem to be the most common national, if not international, outlet for entertainment, emotion and social connection? As usual, I have some notions, each more diabolical then the last. (Except for the third one which is really quite tame and uninspired).

THE OUTSIDER

A former manager at my current place of financial slavery, once asked me, during a football game, about the score. I, of course, replied that I had no idea, due to the fact that I was paying no attention to the TV screens.  He quickly amended his question to, "so you're not a football fan then?" I smiled to myself, rolled my eyes (only slightly, I promise), and simply told him that I was not. He paused a beat, and then asked, "do you like any sports?", to which I also gave him a simple "nope".

"That's really weird. I've met people who just don't like hockey or baseball, but I've never met anyone who didn't like any sports before."

Congratulations. Let me shake your hand sir. I'm assuming you don't have a big circle of friends that consist of intellectuals, artists, and philosophers do you? Well, nor do I, regrettably, but you've just met one. I'm the filet mignon of potato chips. In other words, I don't belong.

A simple but effective example of how disconnected I can be from typical social interests would be this year's Superbowl. My restaurant threw a large party with buffets and unlimited (piss water) beer for a reasonable all inclusive price. I was working the door that afternoon, dressed in typical work attire, while every other employee wore random sports jerseys, a sign of their enthusiasm and desire for social commonality. During the game, while all the staff were cheering, yelling, and talking about each play to infinitum, there I was, at the front, paying no attention to the crowds, engrossed in a book about the history of secularism in America.

"But how can you not like sports at all?"

How indeed. A quick smattering of my reasons include, but are not limited to the following: it means absolutely nothing to me; I learn nothing from it; I have no personal connection to it; it bores me; it does not make me laugh; it does not make me feel; it does not make me think about things in a new light; and if someone wins or loses, it affects me not at all in the grand scheme of awareness and existence.

Boy, I sure am a fucking nerd/idiot/loser huh?

So even at the outset, I'm the outsider, yet again, just like most of the observations I have these days. It's good to be the king. . . of deprecation. And by good, I mean hellish and bleak.

THE DELEGATES AND REPRESENTATIVES

I hope you enjoy extreme anger, because this next section contains more antagonistic rage per square inch than any of my previous recipes combined. Just a warning.


I've come to realize that what I really hate most about professional sports, is not actually the sport itself, but the fans. The ones I'm lucky enough to encounter seem to be the cream of the crop, or bare minimum, the crap of the cream.

Since the Nuggets ("of gold" presumably; though I prefer "of turds") have been in the finals, my restaurant takes the brunt of East Denver sports fandom during a game. In the course of the last several games, I got a good chance to consume a generous helping of the common fan (and then send it back to the kitchen, as they were mostly undercooked).

The sports fan has come to represent everything (or at least many things) I personally dislike and even abhor about society. One of the biggest things linking these pit-stained grunts is the lack of a sense of humor about themselves. Sure they may tell the odd level one joke about boobs, or how some dude they know is a "fag", but when it comes to looking at themselves with a degree of deprecation and humility, they show their true, pig-headed colors. It's interesting how much this one aspect factors so heavily into my like and dislike of particular human beings.

Never have I found a more disgusting example of rudeness, stubbornness, lack of empathy, lack of emotion, social bigotry (yes, I see the irony right now), and severe lack of intellectual prowess, then I have with this one, generalized group of neanderthals.

These are people who feel that everyone should treat them like they are at Burger King: They need to always have things "their way". Demanding is putting lightly, a thing, by the way, I don't do well (the lightly part).

So far, the sports fan I'm talking about comes in several external varieties. One of the most frequent spottings I've had is of the DEB. The common DEB, (which, in case you want to use it, is an abbreviation of Douche Bag, with an added vowel for better pronunciation), can be identified by their signature plumage; often a backwards white baseball cap, a non-descript button-up short sleeve shirt, tan khaki shorts and sandals or white sneakers. The DEB most often travel in packs of identical looking cohorts, and can be heard from afar by their characteristicly loud, obnoxious, stutter of a laugh, and the overuse of the words "bro" and "fag".

Another great specimen, highly worth mentioning, is the Grotesque Mongoloid Jocktastical DEB. These odd creatures are easy to spot from a distance, due to their hulking physique (either from muscles or fat) and look of continual pissed-off confusion. These hulking absurdities ooze a mallordorous paint-pealing musk, which contains the same chemical eye irritants as an onion, and upon closer inspection, you may notice an frightening emptiness behind their gaze which once used to house some semblance of what we in the industry call, "personality".

These "people" are some of the most dickish, pushy, unempathetic humans I've ever dealt with, who will fly off the handle at the very slightest inconvenience.

The female fans come with a few varieties of their own. I've been in contact with testosterone female sports fan, who can, at times, act, talk and even look almost indistinguishable from her male DEB counterparts. Though the variety I seem to see most often is the one that has been tagged at a mate for either the common DEB, or the GMJ DEBs, or for easier linguistical use, "UDEBs" (Pronounced "you debs", short for Über Douche Bags).

These quiet, subdued females are eerily human like, though I assure you that it has no feelings or consciousness, so you can breathe a sigh of relief. Interestingly enough, these DEB-mates are actually manufactured. One simply takes a hollow plastic Jello mold in the shape of a vapid, mentally-abused female, then spray on a thick layer of cosmetic foundation and eye liner. I'm still baffled at how they program these things to walk around and look so internally unhappy, and still portray a bitchy sense of entitlement in such a realistic manner.

The thing that unifies all of these DEB variants, beyond lack of humor for themselves, would be their blazingly obvious, and personally painful stupidity.

BOYS DON'T CRY

Boy, that was a lot of fun, eh boys and girls? Now that I've been a dick for a few paragraphs and had some good, old fashioned fun at other's expense, let's get back into what's most interesting, namely the psychological questions.

Why do these games draw so much rabid enthusiasm and devotion from people? My personal theory deals a bit with some of the masculine aspects of social gender identity.

As you may or may not know, men, unlike women, aren't emotional. Ever. And if they do have any emotion (which they don't), it's never for anything that is seen as particularly feminine, like, I don't know, love. Nope. It's only "manly" emotions like rage, excitement, and pride (the more unfounded, the better). Oh, and I can't forget the big one: boys don't cry.

Men have been indoctrinated with versions of this bullshit for literally centuries. Fathers telling their impressionable children about what emotions they are allowed to experience, and which ones they should be shamed for feeling, since it instantly makes them a girl or gay (two things that are extremely god-awful I guess).

What we are instilled with as children goes a long way to shape the minds and "hearts" of who we will become as adults. Some of us are able to grow out of any mental or emotional hinderances that may be blocking us due to overly bigoted, gender specific parents and friends.

In addition to the emotional negative reinforcement, many parents (both men and women actually) will hammer home specific interests as unacceptable for males; namely art (why do you think they call them "art fags" huh?!), music (unless it's shitty emotionless drunken blues-based bar rock), philosophy (too heady and pretentious), dance (do I even need to say why?), poetry (pffffff), fashion and more. This is not even including the list of activities that are deemed "okay" for males, but not looked upon as manly enough, like anything in the sciences.

So where does this lead us? If all of the things above are off limits to males for varying reasons, where do you put all of that pent up emotion that you have regardless of whether you are supposed to have it or not (since you are human)?

SPORTS!!!!

Yep. Sports are an emotional safe haven for most adults, as cheering and getting worked up over your team is somehow socially acceptable, not to mention encouraged.

Get comfy, because I'm going to throw out a pretty negative generalization on this topic. Ready? No? Need to adjust yourself? There you go.

I'm going to assert that there is a correlation between people who have no or little creative outlets (or abilities), and those who are very passionate about professional sports.

As usual I need to augment my projections with stipulations that not everyone falls into this category, as my own father, who I would consider to be highly creative, intellectual and even emotional, still gets sucked into sports (and I make sure to give him a hard time about it of course).

Many times, enthusiasm for professional sports becomes an alternate viaduct for bottled up emotions and thoughts for those who are without the ability to 1) express emotion in a balanced human way, and 2) channel that emotion into personal creative expression like writing, drawing, building, singing, etc.

Yes, I realize that some creative people also like sports. But understand that I'm just going for the generalizations, since they are easier to take down (like the sick and wounded in the herd).

THE SOCIAL CONNECTION

Another important factor in its proliferation is the strong social bonding aspect that professional sports can bring.

I get asked about, or talked to about sports at least once a day by customers. Scores, stats, this player did this, this manager got fired and so on. It's always an awkward moment for me, when smiling and nodding does not do enough to send them on their way, and they persist on asking me my opinions on pointless sporty things.

"Looks like they fired Hurdle."

"I'm sorry?" I ask, not understanding the statement that a very butch, thirty-something lady just tried to involve me in, as she glanced at the TV displaying some sort of alien jargon.

"Clint Hurdle." She clarified.

I paused, likely with a squint of confusion, then shook my head slightly.

"I don't know who that is," I said.

She looked at me with a bit of frustration, then elaborated her supposedly-involving conversation topic with, "Clint Hurdle, manager of the Rockies?"

I stared at her without blinking, straight-faced, and gave her a shrug, signifying that I did not give even the wateriest shit about that. She then walked away, disappointed, and possibly even a bit pissed off, realizing that there would be no bonding, or common ground, and that I was, by all accounts, and idiot, a weirdo and a dick.

See what happened there? She wanted to use a very commonly understood outlet for social entertainment and interest in order strike up a conversation with a complete stranger. In most cases this would likely work quite well, as most people seem to know a bit about at least one or two sports, and also show a modicum of interest in them. However, being the perpetually strange outsider in most typical areas of common interest, I ruined her attempt at friendly conversation, due to my complete disinterest, and in fact, sneering contempt for the entire social sports phenomenon.

Me aside (like normal), sports represent a great and open social bonding experience for many people. I get that. A chance to interact with people who share at least one "important" (I beg to differ of course) interest, especially for those who may have a harder time socially fitting in. We all feel the need to fit in somewhere and somehow, including myself. If you like sports, you have an already established connection with damn near anybody, for potential social building, with the caveat that they are probably a DEB.

I'm constantly being bombarded by employee's waxing on about player stats during my work day, as if it meant something to their lives personally. As if the player performing well in a game profoundly altered their views and perceptions of existence itself; as if it directly affected them. (As if).

Yet some people base a good portion of themselves on the fact that they are a sports fan, almost as an identity marker. It becomes a part of who they are. They throw huge game parties, decorate their basements to look like football fields, and dress up in full costume and regalia for events. Listen guys, as far as I'm concerned,  it's just fine to enjoy some spirited competition all you want, but remember, it's just a fucking game, not a placeholder for you being uninteresting or having no sense of identity.

THE ORIGIN OF THE SPECIES

It has been theorized in several great documentaries, much better then I can do justice in this essay, that a likely evolutionary reason that so many people feel so strongly about competitive sports deals with our origins as wild hunters (before the invention of the briefcase changed mankind forever).

I'm sure it's a fairly obvious connection but it's still quite interesting to me that something like this might be ingrained into us as a culture.

Our less civilized (but more badass) ancestors had to directly hunt and kill their prey in order to survive. Possibly at the same time, we developed a surge of chemicals that released during the chase that made the whole ordeal very exciting and visceral.

Over time, less and less of us were directly involved in the hunt, and now most of us have no outlet for those primal and bloody urges of predator and prey. Where to put them? Hmmmmmm. You see where I'm going with this.

Fiercely competitive sports fulfill that ancient need within us to experience drama, violence and the reenactment of the dance of predator and prey. It makes us feel alive and gets our blood boiling (literally, watching sports boils your blood and cooks you to death from the inside out. Porn also does this. Somehow I'm still alive).

This inner need for physical carnage, the culturally acceptable outlet for bottled up emotions, plus the social bonding aspects go to great lengths to explain much of the underlying appeal within the realm of sports.

THE GOLDEN CALF

You might have noticed that I did not touch much on the actual nature of sports itself, opting to talking about it's fans and the potential psychological reasons for it's popularity. As I stated in the open, I've realized that it is these aspects that bother me more then the literal sport.

In closing this essay, I feel I need to put what really, truly irks me into perspective.

To me, the social and cultural glorification of professional sports represent the worship of all the "wrong" human traits. Is there something to be admired in the physical prowess and stamina of the best athletes and olympians? Sure, of course. I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge that it takes years of training and honing of skills to achieve such physical feats.

But in this day and age, creativity and intelligence are not valued as they once were. Many of our most popular sports figures, though physically apt, are often conversely unintelligent, almost anti-intellectual, self-important, and not well spoken.  Yet these people are looked up to by the vast sea of fans as role models and idols. The apex of human achievement.

This flies in the face of the ancient Greeks who were true renaissance men (even before the renaissance). Yes the Greeks cared about physical competition, but they also balanced that out with art, science, philosophy and music. Something so varied, open minded and cultured is, in my book, quite impressive and truly worthy of admiration and praise.

The modern idolatry of sports figures has us worshiping the pinnacle of egotism, pride, and superficiality. They are looked up to for their personal, and financial successes, and the lives of excessive hedonism they are portrayed to live. People like money, and people seek after those who have lots of it. Simply by our continued fandom and patronage, we are encouraging generally negative personality traits in our idols, namely ignorance and blatant, almost purposeful stupidity, and then applauding them for it. Is this really the best example of human achievement and expression? (If you answered 'yes', please go back to the beginning of this essay and actually read the words).

In the end, it deeply saddens me how little the general public seems to care about art, philosophy, science, (real) music, and deeper, more significant, life impacting ideas. But hey, as long as two people can bludgeon each other to unconsciousness on pay per view television for all the world to see, we're happy as can be.

. . . Aren't we?



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Tags: sports football hockey baseball basketball rockies nuggets hatered sarcasm social psychology philosophy art music science intelligence humor emotion

Why I don't Commit Murder

This is an essay response to the YouTube video by CDK007 asking the question "why don't you commit murder?" I don't have a video camera at the moment, so it's all Texty McTextington for me. I suggest you watch his video before reading my usual and wonderful comments and asides. I've taken the liberty of embedding it for you, since I'm so nice (give me a hug).



Just so you know where I'm coming from (look behind you), I'd like to say that I enjoyed the video, and thought he had some good points to bring up in regards to the typical morality arguments. Obviously, this video is geared toward the adherents of theism and defending an atheistic morality (though, just to be clear, atheism itself has no morality as it is not a thing. It is only the lack of a belief in a divine being. That's it.) Basically this boils down to "people who are not religious have reasons not to murder too". (If you don't agree with that I'll fucking kill you).

The reason I am writing this essay is not to bash CDK007, or to argue with him, because, as I've stated above, I agree with his points. This is to simply expand the on idea, as I found it interesting that my personal reasons for not committing murder were never mentioned in the video.

There are three examples listed by the creator of the video (a video has to have a creator) as being common reasons that a person would object to committing murder. (As a quick aside, why does one "commit" murder? How many other things do you "commit"? Besides your crazy nephew who keeps trying to lick all the fish in your aquarium of course. Do you commit drinking? Do you commit taking a dump? Do you dump commitment?).

The first example is the rule of law. However, as he points out, just because something is against the law, does not mean that it will prevent people from doing something, though it does work with some folks. I'd have to agree, the law is usually not the first place I look to determine much of anything, not that I'm pro Judas Priest ("Breaking The Law").

Next he cites personal punishment. This makes a good deal of sense I think, as the thought of spending a lifetime in jail for doing something against the law does not sound very pleasing to my groin.

Lastly he uses God. He assumes many religious people think that since God commanded that we do not kill (then kills a bunch of people just to fuck with us), that they will think of that as their primary means of purposeful death deterrent.

These examples are all well and good (and well), but during the course of watching, I was yelling out my personal objections to murder, and for some reason (he's probably just stubborn), he neglected to add my shouted comments to his video in real time. What a jerk!

For what it's worth, I have thought about how to commit the perfect murder many times, but in my mind, it is more about the complex puzzle of how not to get caught, or leave false evidence, or perhaps do something that everyone would talk about, and becomes famous (infamous). (Inflammable means flammable?!) I would not actually do it in real life, most likely, I'd just try and incorporate it into a novel or screenplay. That's why imagination is so fun. In my imagination, I also have friends.

The primary reason I do not murder goes right to the heart of how we create a functioning society. For a social society to exist in a fairly decent way, we have to figure out a way that each individual gets to still be an individual, while also benefiting the collective. In short it works like this: I, myself, do not want to be murdered. Therefore I cannot murder someone else. The basic, "treat others as you would be treated" manta. If we all mostly agree to this ideology, we can begin to make a somewhat balanced, and functional version of a community.

The secondary reason that I do not murder, is the fact that, as an overly emotional person who dwells on everything, (and still feels like shit for things I did in kindergarten), I could not handle the emotional weight of being solely responsible for ending someone's existence. It would fill me with guilt and depression for the rest of my days, making my own life practically unbearable. As it is, my life is approaching that 'unbearability' mark, and that's without a murder on my mind/hands to push me over the line.

The last reason I do not murder has do with external punishment (which differs from the personal punishment as I will explain using a Little Orphan Annie Secret Decoder Ring). Why would people murder? I would assume (which makes you an ass) that usually people are brought to that state of action because they are very angry at someone, or at least really emotional in some form. The goal in this mindset is to cause the other person harm, pain, and to punish. Well, if the goal would be to punish the other person, to me, death is not a punishment. For all we know death is it. (Like advertising Coke. "DEATH IS IT!")

If that is true, in death, they would not be conscious or aware to be punished (so we think), therefore it is a crap punishment. Life is a greater punishement. Better yet, "restricted life". By that I mean existing in a state in which you can only contemplate your actions, and all amenities and luxuries are made not available to you. Something with deep emotional and mental consequences, something to make people feel (or, in some cases, learn) guilt and responsibility, and with the eventual goal of rehabilitation. Yes, I would still advocate trying to get people to become better for society, but not in the "1984" way, or in a drone/zombie/labotomy way.

I'm sure you said, "you mean like prison?" And I would say, "Hey, guy, don't interrupt me." But no, our prisons are not doing what I just said. They are basically a more bland and dangerous Hilton, where everything is provided for you. That does not bring the significant emotional and mental punishment, plus the rehabilitation I mentioned, unless they aired non-stop reruns of Full House.

Mr. 007 closes his video by giving the reason he does not kill: because it makes him feel sick.

I don't have any problem with this, as it is a beneficial trait for the good of society as a whole, however, due to my insatiable curiosity, I would ask where did that feeling come from? Is it inherent in our brains, and somehow selected for over time? Possibly. However I would argue that it is societally based, and infused. I'm sure your parents instilled at least a modicum of this concept in you over the years. And if not, (well, first, your parents were terrible, but), it's everywhere in our culture from TV shows to books to commercials. Even if the message is not supposed to be a heavy-handed "don't murder kids!" (Or "don't murder (comma) kids". Two different ideas there) the concept of "murder is bad" is still built into the way we think and perceive things. We show, naturally, the consequences of murder as being bad, and people who do it are bad and usually crazy.

So again, would you feel that way about murder if it were not instilled into you and learned by parents and society?

Just curious.



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Tags: why commit murder social society morals youtube atheist atheism god cdk007 philosophy

(Mis) Perceptions Of Love

We, as conscious, feeling, emotional beings, place a lot of emphases on the notion of love. We ascribe the most fantastical feelings and epic scenarios to this strange and addictive sensation. It literally rules our lives in one way or another (or yet another).

I've mentioned the idea of love as being a purely functional production of our biological evolution in a previous blog called, The Feel Good Fix. I can very much see the practical way that our emotions could have evolved over time as a purely survival based mechanism, and yet, the artist in me can't help but be sucked into the whirlwind of experience and idealized perfection.

However, being the cynical and overly-analytical person I am, I do often get bothered with how distorted our perception can be of what love is. As I mentioned at length in my blog about self-perception, it is not who we are, but who we would like to be which becomes the way we see ourselves. The same is true for love; gorgeous visions of grandeur and solace concocted by the deepest longings of our metaphorical hearts. Unfortunately, this is often at odds with what love is in the real world.

Though many people are lucky enough to experience something that can dip occasionally into an almost movie-like fantasy world of beauty and excitement, most of us will not be so lucky.

And now on to the meat of this essay. I submit for you, a classic poetic example of how we think and feel about love, which comes from this oft used bible verse:

Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking.
It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
I Corinthians 13:4-8

My dad's wife has this quote hanging in their master bathroom. Any time I visit them and, for whatever reason, use that particular bathroom (why do I use that one anyway?) I am bombarded with a framed plaque promoting this supposedly wonderful and poetic realization of the true nature of love.

Let me just say that this verse fills me with joy and puts a pleasant smile on my face. Then I hum a nice song on my way out of the room and, skipping merrily I . . .

. . . I can't do that with a straight face. Here I try to do this in a different way and fail miserably.

Back to the normal version that you cherish more then your dying grandmother.

Yes, I get that this sounds nice. I'm really not arguing that the ideas written here are great on paper, like communism. They are. (Like communism). It is exactly what we would all like to be, and how we would love to be treated by others. Pure, cold-filtered Utopia.

Alas, like utopia, the main flaw in this ideological view on love is that it leaves out the most basic and important component: human nature.

We could spend all day, waxing philosophic about how great it would be if people were more like this or that, acted in such and such way, or cared about these concepts over those concepts, but it is a dead argument from the get go. People will continue to be what they always have been. Animals. Apes. Humans.

Let's look closely at this verse and examine it closely from a more realistic viewpoint. (By the way, if you were wondering how I determine a "realistic" standard, I use my own opinion.)

Love is patient, love is kind.

Sorry, no. Wouldn't it be great though? Love involves our most irrational selves, by which I am referring to our emotions. Things not generally in our direct control. Love can be patient, sometimes, but it is by no means a general label I could accurately apply to it without wincing or cracking a smile. We want everything now, and love only helps expedite that want.

And as for love being kind, anyone who has had their heart broken, shattered and defecated upon can, and honestly, should tell you different. Love is ruthless and cruel, not for the timid. To be fair, love can indeed be kind, but to represent it as all things kind would be ridiculously unbalanced and unfair (like Fox news).

It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

Yikes. This line reminds me of the feeling I get being an audience member while watching a terrible comedian bomb awkwardly on stage.

I'm sure I'll say this a lot today but, at times, (and with this particular line it would very very, very select times), this can actually apply. But just because there are a handful of moments, few and far between where love embodies these things, does that mean (and before I finish this question, let me tell you that this is rhetorical) that 10% justifies the other 90%?

Love is extremely jealous my friends. Love has a case of the green eyes. When people are experiencing the near-illegal rush of chemicals associated with love, they naturally become more possessive and do whatever they can within their power to defend what they see as theirs. I'm sure you can see the evolutionary background in this one. It's mine and you can't have it!!!

Pride and boastfulness, again, are involved as well. Not always, mind you. But often enough to make a quite grounded objection to this line, based on experience and plenty of evidence to the contrary.

It is not rude, it is not self-seeking.

Love can be rude, impolite and worse. Though I do not think that these traits are inherent within the confines of what we've labeled "love", people, simply being the unaware creatures that they are, bring this aspect to the table.

Not self-seeking eh? Basically the author is trying to say that love is in no way selfish. I wish I had already finished one of several blogs I am working on dealing with the notion of selfishness, as I could simply link to it. Honestly, I could write for hours on the topic of selfishness. Without stealing all of the content from that essay, I'll simply say that the pursuit of love, is, by definition, almost purely selfish. Sorry "altruists".

It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

Can you honestly think of a time where your emotions have not gotten the better of you? Where your emotions, intensified by other side effects like jealousy, would bring you to anger? In fact, in many situations, the only reason you become angered is because of the fact you love someone, or someone loves you.

All I hang onto through the odd, and tumultuous junkyard that is, (though more accurately 'was'), my 'love' life, is the score card of wrongs, misses and regrets. And try as I might, I still can't get the smell of cat urine out of it. To keep with the underlying theme, the only (or at least most significant) reason you remember all of the "wrongs" of relationships past is because they contained so much emotion.

Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.

Boy it sure feels good when you find out later that an ex lover has made some poor choices in their life, and perhaps in hindsight, they come back to the idea that being with you was actually really great, that you opened their eyes to many new and enjoyable ways of thinking and interacting, and most of all, they regret, even just a little bit, breaking up with you.

Now, I would not call that "delighting in evil" per se, though I did take great comfort in seeing that I was suddenly seen with new value, and appreciated well after the fact. Not to mention the fact that things "post Niko" did not turn out so well for her.

I'm really not sure how love "rejoices with the truth" though. Seems like a pointless, overly vague, and generally content-less statement. But somehow, it sounds nice enough, doesn't it? Who needs significant meaning when you have phrases that make us feel good. . .  for some reason.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

No, no, no, and no. It does not always do this. Does it seem to you (again with the rhetorical questions) that this whole verse is beginning to look like exactly the opposite of what reality tells us about love? The rhetorical answer is yes. (Rhetorically speaking of course).

Battered and abused spouses, and crimes of passion should pretty well dispel the "always protects" idea, and trust is easily lost. I would wager that most people out there likely have "trust issues" as well, as they have probably dealt with a previous relationship in which they were given a reason not to trust people. Additionally, if you really were to "always trust" people, regardless of the situation, you would likely end up with your life savings indebted to a Nigerian Prince. Not being overly trusting is actually a sign of wisdom.

"Always hopes". This may be the first one I agree with. However I also have a negative impression of idea of hope. Wait for a future essay.

"Perseveres". It may do this. It may indeed. Take one read of any of the blogs on the site, "Psychotic Letters From Men", and you'll see that perseverance is not always a good thing (though we get to read about it later and mock those who are unaware of their pathetic behavior). Oh Stalking. Could I love you more? (Rhetorical).

Love never fails.

*sigh*

Yes, and love lasts forever. Children are also sweet an innocent. Another concept that bothers me quite a lot, this notion of things lasting forever. Mostly you hear it applied to exactly our topic. People often lament about finding a love that lasts forever. I hope you enjoy lamenting, as you'll end up with a degree.

Nothing lasts forever people. Nothing. That is reality. Even our very universe is eventually going to disintegrate into nothingness. This, yet again, is our perception of what love should be, and not what love is (just like that HILARIOUS cartoon of the same name!!).

When it comes to relationships, one or both of your will eventually fall out of love, or one of you will eventually die. Neither of those scenarios constitutes 'forever' in my mind. Score one: reality.

So there we have it folks. An uplifting dissection of a misleading and wholly incorrect poem about how we perceive love, instead of what love actually is.

It may come off that I have something against feeling good, or finding love in some form, and if so, I need to say that that would be incorrect. I still long for everything I've debunked or shredded above. My imagination and desires still takes me where reality fears to tread. If anything, I'm just trying to be grounded and look at what experience and evidence tell us about relationships, albeit in a sarcastic and humorous way. After all, this is still supposed to be entertainment, yes?

Again, the fact that we can conceive of such ideas of love, is at the root of the underlying conflict. Our imaginations are much more beautiful and amazing than anything reality could likely throw our way (with some exceptions). When we are inundated with books, poems, music and movies that espouse the hyper-idealized version of what we want love to be, we will only end up being disappointed by what actually manifests for us. Understanding the nature of reality, especially in regards to love and personal happiness, is the first step at actually attaining something attainable, and then being satisfied with it.

All in all, I could not have designed a better case study for how inaccurate our perceptions of love can be. Let that be a lesson for the future: when you need inaccuracy, look no further then the bible! ZING!



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Tags:love relationships emotion perception patient kind envy never fails bible psychology philosohpy

Overly Affectionate People

I know you enjoy it when I have problems with things, so enjoy it (time is money).

From the title, you might guess I have a problem expressing general affection, or possibly I might get a bit peeved by public displays of affection. Well, you guessed wrong. (IDIOT!!!!!!!!!) Though I can act awkward in common social situations, when it comes to romantically-based inter-personal relationships, I love psychical affection, and yes, even when it's in public (though I probably still act awkwardly). So if I enjoy acting like a giggly child and sickening those around me with saccharine displays of candy-coated touching and kissing, what could I possibly have a problem with?

As you've already guessed (correctly this time), it's something that will seem so trivial and minute that you'll have a hard time understanding why it is so bothersome to me. You know the drill.

What irritates me is when people act overly affectionate with damn near anyone they come in contact with, including, and especially, light acquaintances (of which I'm usually in the last category).

EXAMPLE 1: Switching schedules.

A few months ago a female co-worker asked me if I would switch schedules with her for an upcoming day. After confirming that I could indeed make the switch, she got immediately excited and said, "Thanks so much! I love you!"

I love you.

I love you? For switching a schedule? Are you fucking kidding me? Do you also love the stranger in the street who glances at his watch to tell you the time? Or how about the fast-food drive-thru operator who lets you have an extra minute to go over the menu?

Yes, yes, I realize that the girl in question did not actually mean that she is IN love with me. But honestly it matters not. The principle remains the same. Does anyone else think her choice of expression did not match the given situation?

EXAMPLE 2: Using the bathroom.

How about this: the girls living below my apartment last year were throwing a little party (the way I worded that it almost sounds like they live in the floor. Literally). I decided to check it out and see how many people I could tear to shreds in my mind (since I'm so pathetic in large social situations, my only recourse is to find a way to feel superior. Pathetic, I know). The one bathroom in their flat was currently "occupado", so one of the roommates came to me with an irrational and impossible proposition:

"Niko? Can I use your bathroom please? I'll love you forever!!"

This is where my eyes roll, then narrow, my teeth clinch, and I let out a sigh.

What is she, ten? How is this any different from the equally weighty, and legally-binding verbal contract of, "pleeeeaasse? I'll be your best friend!!!!!???" I can't tell you how many amazing close personal friends I've made through just such a situation.

Back to her statement, it's not like the notion of being loved forever is bad thing (though I can still find scenarios where it could be), but using such a false and vacant idea like that for using a bathroom is, without saying, . . . . . . . .

(oh man the grammatical humor!)

I looked at her and raised my eyebrow in my overly condescending way.

"That's a ridiculous thing to say," I told her. "But you can use the bathroom anyway."

EXAMPLE 3: Truck stop baby.

I was helping a female bartender put away the bloody mary bar that we set up for brunch. I only do this because I am usually bored, or have been guilted into doing so. Upon completion she said, "Thanks for helping me out, babe."

Last time I checked, my name was neither spelled, nor pronounced that way. "Friend" I can understand, as we could be, under certain definitions be categorized as such (not mine of course, since I'm such an elitist). Same goes with other, more simple words used to denote basic friendship like "pal", "buddy" or "bud", or even the oft used, and overly general "man" and "dude".

Her back was turned while I gave a look of puzzlement. It almost felt somehow wrong of her to call me that. Was she suddenly interested in me? Was this a subconscious Freudian double meaning? 

"Babe."

Listen, I don't spend much time at truck stop diners for a multitude of reasons, but to me this very much resembles the stereotype I have concocted in my mind of the 60 year-old, skirt-wearing, chain-smoking, raspy-voiced waitress who goes by the name "Mama" and always asks you if you, "want more coffee, hon?" Not that this bartender is any of those things. In fact, were she not married, I would not mind the notion of being called "babe", but the context would be a bit different.

You don't know me (by "you" I mean "she". Which then means you need to change "don't" to "does not"). Well, to be fair, few do. But I really don't like being called terms of affection, when I am not the object of affection. It's confusing, and it sends mixed messages, whether or not it is intended.

EXAMPLE 4 through 8 billion:

A male bartender whom I work with, and say very little to in general, walks into the restaurant and greets me with a simple, "hey buddy. How's it goin'?" No problem there, I get that this question is just a longer version of "hi". Where I get confused in our social standing is when I am suddenly given an awkward hug. Wait, are we good friends now? Did I miss something?

He gives everyone a hug when he comes into work each day, including me, who as I mentioned, is barely an acquaintance (which, of course, would make us good Myspace friends. HEY-OH!). I can understand his good friends, but me? Why? Doesn't that at all seem the slightest bit eyebrow raising?

Most of the servers are constantly putting their arms around each other and being, at least what I would call, overtly flirtatious with language and body (usually in male/female combinations) when they are chatting. Lots of that "touchy feely" behavior, even when the people involved are in "committed" relationships (yes, the quotes were a bit of a slam. I'm crafty that way) or they are actually married.

It's there, around me every day, and I still don't get it. I don't act that way with my friends, nor do I return the behavior on my own accord in the workplace.

One (or two) can assume, since it is so commonplace, that no one else sees this as being inappropriate, out of place, or even just a bit too much. Besides me.

A short defense.

I can see that some of you may think this is much ado about nothing. You could justify their choice of words as simple uses of common speak, or they mean the words in a less strong or specific manner. Perhaps, yes. Maybe I'm reading into this too much . . . actually, yes I am reading into this too much, but that's what I do regardless. But what about their actions? Is that the same? The over-the-top flirty actions, and constant touching? Can that really be as simple?

What it all means.

I said at the top of this essay, that I am, in fact, quite an affectionate person, but only in very specific situations. I really do love to be intimate and physical with those I feel very strongly for. Which is why, in my mind, I've reserved particular words, gestures, actions, and general behavior for moments in which they are most meaningful. Obviously the idea of meaning is rather subjective, and for me these concepts are most meaningful when they are not given out freely or at random. It's like simple supply and demand: when the quantity of a product goes up, the value comes down. Same goes with affection. If you tell everyone "I love you" for a ranging scale of ridiculous to semi-reasonable justifications, how will the people you actually, truly and whole-heartedly LOVE know the difference?

How will YOU know the difference?

Many people (who are objectively wrong) choose not to subscribe to that particular set of ideals, which is fine (I'm lying). I strongly feel that when, rare as it might be, I tell someone that I love them, it really means something. The actions and words themselves carry greater value due to their inherent scarcity.

Another observation I take away from watching such displays, and being on the receiving end of some, is that the behavior feels very disingenuous; in that it comes off, many times, as fake, or false. I feel like I'm being condescended to, like they are acting.

Needless to say (which is why it's being said), I don't like disingenuous behavior, nor disingenuous people. When someone says something to me, I want it to mean what it is supposed to mean.

Maybe it's all me.

What I notice in many of these blogs, is the potential for me to be the only one who is "out of the loop"; the lone protester dragging his heals in the dirt, desperately fighting the current of modern day acceptable practices. And I fully accept that this, again, may be the case. Is this what everyone else actually does and I'm just out of the "affection loop"? Maybe I'm too frigid, cold, or reserved. Maybe I have trouble expressing affection "correctly".

But what if it's not all my social awkwardness. Then what can we ask about this? Is this kind of social behavior learned through social jobs like this (i.e. server, bartender, nightclub staff, DJ, etc)? Or do people with this behavior gravitate towards jobs like these? A bit too "chicken and egg" perhaps. Still, interesting questions methinks.

The clincher.

The most frustrating part of all of this, is the awareness that many of the mannerisms and unconscious behaviors I have just listed, and spent too long mulling over, have slipped into my everyday repertoire. I've now noticed how susceptible I can be, being influenced by those around me. The other day while checking IDs at the door for a concert, I stopped a young woman before she could enter and said "can I see your ID sweetie?" Guuhhhh.......




Enjoy reading this blog? Please favorite, rate or bookmark this page, and most of all comment with your personal stories, observations, or violent objections.

Tags: affection love friend pda social psychology humor

All Truth Is Relative. . . And Equally Not.

What is the nature of truth? Is truth absolute, relative or just a set of probabilities? Are you bored already? Or are you equally bored and entertained? Follow me through a long and twisting path on a journey to discern what is, from what is not. (And also a bunch of aimless digressions).

There was an actually positive article about atheism in the NYT, that for once decided not to depict every atheist, "agnostic" or secular humanist as being evil, filled with hate (good thing they did not interview me) or being the downfall of American values (whatever that really means. By the way, read the book Freethinkers: A History of American Secularism if you want American values).

One of the comments on the article's website was from a believer, who, admittedly, was very fair and quite knowledgeable. The commenter talked about the fact that he knew his beliefs could not be proven, nor could the non-existence of something be proven (which as I said, is fair, to a point), but then ended his two cents with this:

"Given that none of us knows and it's all a matter of faith, be it yes or no, why not opt for belief and be an optimist?"

To the layman or uninitiated, this sounds like a valid perspective. Why not just take the side with more optimism and leave it at that? Because obviously, the side without a belief in a god is automatically pessimistic and unpleasant right?

Wrong. This is where the idea of "truth value" comes into play. But before I go there, I have a few other problems with his statement.

This person has made the assumption, based on his preset beliefs, that because he feels optimistic due to his beliefs, that all people will feel optimistic because of his beliefs. What it also says, is not only are his beliefs the corner stone of optimism, but things that are not his beliefs cannot be optimistic. As far as he can tell, you cannot be happy, content, positive or personally fulfilled without his personal perspectives. Thanks for assuming the inherent bleakness of my views!

As I've tried to explain, optimism actually is relative. I feel more optimistic (yes me) for knowing that I am in control of my life, and I'm not looking over my shoulder for some malevolent angry father character to constantly judge my every thought and action. In fact, in my mind, that's the furthest thing away from optimism. That's fear.

Wait a minute. Isn't the topic of this essay "Truth is Relative" in a sarcastic tone? Didn't I just say something IS relative? Why I did I do that? First, pull your pants back up. Second, because optimism is based on emotional outlook, which does not have to be grounded in any percentage of truth. For instance, I know someone who buys a lottery ticket every single day and always talks, quite optimistically, about his chances and what he will do with the inevitable pile of cash he is obviously not going to get. (Did you like that? "Inevitable" followed by "obviously not"? Pretty good eh? Impressed?)

The next assumption this person makes (the guy I am quoting, not the guy who buys the lotto ticket), which is vastly more important, is that since he feels that neither side (belief vs. non-belief) can be proven, both options are equally valid. This would be to say that each scenario is equally likely to be one thing or another. For this to work there would have to be the same amount of evidence on both sides, as well as the same amount of logic behind each argument. I mean, after all, either humans built the pyramids, or they were farted out by flaming cyber chimps singing the theme song from "Charles In Charge". If they are equally valid, why not believe both? Why believe either?

He also goes as far as equating his position (a matter of faith) to my position (a matter of no faith) by saying that they are both based upon belief. This is something that bothers me quite a bit, and also a notion that seems hard for certain people to grasp, especially for those whose outlook on existence deals heavily in matters of faith alone to explain the world around them.

The quick explanation is this: my position is that I LACK faith in a god or deity. Lacking faith does not require faith, unless the evidence that something exists is overwhelming.

Example: You and a friend are walking through the park. Your friend stops to point out a bird and says, "Oh Look, a Robin!" Despite the evidence that you can both see and hear the bird, you declare that the bird is not there at all. There is more evidence to prove the bird's existence in this case than the absence of it. You chose to deny the evidence and just trust in your personal belief that there is no bird there.

THAT requires faith.

Me not accepting your idea that I have Quato growing out of my chest telling me to "start the reactor", is hard to believe when there is no evidence of the kind proving your claim. Therefore I do not believe you. Hence no faith in that idea. Hence hence my lack of faith does not require faith.

The last thing that this person claims in his statement is that all truths are relative. This is the most bothersome of all to me. This is a variation of the "equally valid" idea, where we've moved away from two competing ideas for the heavy weight champion, and now ALL ideas are valid. Thousands of ideas. Even ideas with opposing views (i.e. you are the sexiest person alive / you make me want to vomit urine. Maybe that's just me?).

So how is it possible for all views to contain the same amount of truth?

And this is where the story takes a more personal turn. My own mother holds this very same perspective. She has, over the course of her life, believed many different things, starting from traditional christianity as a child, then moving into various new age and metaphysical perspectives later in life. Each time a new philosophy or ideology does not seem to "resonate" for her, she moves on to another one, hoping to find something that works.

Many people might slowly discard the truth value of each previous belief, leaving with the idea that "since belief 'A' did not work, I can conclude that belief 'A' is not very truthful", although I doubt you'd say it like that. You'd probably put more swear words in there. But the path is that we slowly get rid of the things that are less likely to be true and come to a smaller circle of ideas that are more likely to be true.

So what did my mother do after having so many new age beliefs not work for her? Did she cross them off the list of probability? Did she say "maybe all this new age stuff is bullshit"? You guessed it, NO! She has taken the opposite philosophy in that everything, no matter how unsupported and unprovable (and in many cases already proved wrong), can be true for different people. Let me repeat that. Different truths for different people.

It's this very perspective that makes conversing with my mother on any topic remotely related to philosophy and existence a dead end. It is a very basic underlying perspective that forms the base of the way you approach the world around you. It is my perspective that some answers are going to be more truthful than others, which then makes me continually research, read about, and ponder the nature of things in order to find out what is more probable. If my mother holds the perspective that one thing cannot be more truthful than another, due to their equality of truth value, then any facts, evidence or arguments I make about a given idea will hold no more validity than another much less likely idea.

Let's say I'm wearing a solid color T-shirt. Would you say that my shirt is equally black and equally orange? Or is it more likely that it is only one of those two options? We can determine by simple observation that my shirt is more probably one color, than it is another. (Although if you really want to get silly with this we could go with the example of Schrödinger's Cat and say that until you actually see the shirt, it exists in a state of all probabilities at one time, but I digress).

If you only believe that truths are personal, and things are not more likely to be one thing over another, how do your discern reality? In a world of extreme relative truths, there is no way of finding out and separating the world around you into categories of things that are, and things that are not. All things are true, and all things simultaneously are not true, apparently depending on the person.

What this philosophy leads me to is the notion that, if all things are true, and all truth is personally relative, then there is no reason to even search for truth, as truth becomes pointless. Truth no longer explains the situation, or gives a definite answer. Why even have truth at all?

This is the crossroads I am at. I very much want to be able to communicate with my mother on philosophical topics, but our base set of understandings are at odds and I can't tell you how frustrating it can be. She, again, would likely hold the view that both of our ideas are probably right, that is, both relative truths and probable truths are correct. I'll let you think about that one on your own.

"Given that none of us knows and it's all a matter of faith, be it yes or no, why not opt for belief and be an optimist?"

Coming back to this quote, I'd like to end this essay with the main reason I don't "opt for belief and be an optimist". Summing up from above, both of these ideas are not equiprobable. Both of these ideas don't hold the same amount of weight when it comes to logic, reason, and evidence. One perspective is more likely to be true than another, and I am of the mind that I genuinely care whether my ideas and, yes, beliefs, are true or not. Just because an idea fills you with optimism, does not mean it is true.

In any given situation, one answer will be more likely to be true than another (I'm either sexy, or I induce urine vomit, and so far the evidence points to the latter). One will have more evidence behind it, fit the question more efficiently, and do so with the least amount of blind assumptions possible.

To quote Matt Dillahunty from the Atheist Experience: "Wouldn't you want as many true beliefs and as few false beliefs as possible?"

Thank God that all truth is relative!




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Tags: atheism atheist truth relative reality belief new york times philosophy humor