Category: Uncategorized

Experiencing and Remembering

What is the difference between the experiencing self and the remembering self?

Would we choose different experiences if we could not remember? Would we choose fictious memories if we could not experience? Do each of these selves produce their own conceptions or standards of fulfillment?

Right mind is creative and free flowing. Left mind is analytic and structured.  By oppressing the creative mind the perception of possibilities is robbed. By oppressing the analytic mind the structuralization of substance is dissolved.

Losing Dissonance

Late last night while I was lying in bed losing myself to anxious reveries, I had an experience. It’s not the first time I’ve had this type of experience, but the first time in a long time.

My eyes were closed and my thoughts were bouncing back and forth in conflict regarding a certain event happening the next day. My mind shifted from imagining one course of action, then to another, then back again, as if role playing the scenarios to see which would yield the best outcome. As it was, none of my imaginings seemed to leave me feeling any more secure with what was going to happen; nor did they have me feeling any more satisfied with whether my conjectured courses of action was the most acceptable and appropriate. I continued laying there, absorbed in the tumultuous tension teetering back and forth in my mind, and I began to slowly drift, not from consciousness, but from my thoughts. They began falling away, growing distant and less forceful, until they were nothing but a mere hue at the periphery of my awareness. Now, I certainly didn’t forget they were there, but my heart seemed to claim less ownership over them.

As this silent drift slowly unfolded I began to wake up,  that is, my consciousness began to rise, and I don’t mean from sleep because I was wide awake. I found myself totally renewed, totally rebirthed, and my thoughts consisted of nothing more than a pacified blanket of awareness. I noticed my emotions were no longer bound to thoughts that, just moments ago, had consumed my being. Instead my mind was subsumed in profound cleanliness, a clarity, and my feelings were fluid and flexible, as if they were standing at attention ready to flow at my will.

I remembered having this experience before, many times before, and I became pregnant with nostalgia as I recounted the days when I would actively seek this comforting solace. Years ago, when I was bent on mastering my thoughts, I would practice holding a single ideal thought before my mind. As it often is with things that are necessary and good, these idealizations would appear totally alien to my being. The foreign intrusion would result in a cognitive dissonance that would swell within me and create a flurry of confusion and tension that threatened to cripple my capacity to assimilate and carry out the idea.

I poignantly remember grasping these ideas firmly between my adroit mental fingers so that all other thoughts could exuviate and slide into nothingness. The tension, the dissonance and disharmony, would slowly evaporate into a cool cerulean sublimity and all that was left was my idea, unimpeded my competing memories and conflicting convictions. I would meditate like this- supposing this is meditation- for hours at various times throughout the day until I had constructed myself a consummate, coherent belief system, untangled from contesting emotions, that remained utterly harmonious and synchronic.

Update

Classes have begun. I drove down the coast last weekend, stopping through NJ, MD, VA and finally made it to Nashville after 1400 grueling miles. Thank god for the iphone. I don’t condone surfing the internet while driving, but I would lose my mind if I couldn’t read on ten hour long car drives.

My room is situated and, for the most part, furnished and clean. I still need to unpack a few more boxes of books and organize my three books shelves. Our living room is empty, save a TV. Our dining room hosts three fold-able chairs and a fold-able table. Classy. My room mates are all clean, enjoy health and fitness, school, reading and learning. It’s an amazing combination. We all play guitar, we all do outdoor activities, we all philosophize. Couldn’t be happier really. The job search has begun *dun, dun, dun*. I dropped my metaphysics class in favor of a more realistic classload so I could focus on interviews and job searching. Besides, speculating about the problem of why there is so much evil in the world isn’t on my list of priorities, especially because I don’t really believe in evil. So, I’m in the process of updating my five page resume to a single page; something that seems like a daunting feat. Five classes, VP of the fraternity, and minimal other obligations. So far so good. I’m in the process of securing an internship at a local healthcare clinic so I can gain experience that will prove valuable during job interviews for healthcare IT companies such as Huron Consulting, HCA, EPIC Systems and Sage Intergy. I’d like to get a job on the sales and implementation side of things. Its a burgeoning market and I figure I need to jump on the wave before it closes out.

Our apartment complex is pretty amazing. Multiple pools, grills with free propane, workout gyms, a business center with free copying, among other things. The apartments themselves are pretty chic with wood fire places and a decent deck. I have the master bedroom, complete with a mega bathroom, walk-in closet, and a ridiculous amount of extra space despite my queensize bed, bookshelves, and desk.

So. I’m gonna resume writing. About? Not sure. I’ll resume with my crazy thoughts. Log about my days. Log about material I’m learning in class.

 

A little story, for fun

Went to the bar tonight. Met some chick who was thoroughly interested in me. This was a funny situation. She showed genuine interest, made the bold move of coming up to me and engaging in conversation, and continued showing interest even when I didn’t have much of a care to. She was cute. I was attracted to her. I decided to reciprocate and show her some interest. Talked. Talked. Talked. She excused herself. Some other chick began talking to me. I saw this girl pass as unobviously but obviously in search of me as possible. Almost out the door before I excused myself and asked where she was going. No matter. Continued talking. Probably slipped a little when I said I was waiting for her and the only reason I was still around was to see her. Hah. No matter. Gushing flirtation is bearable so long as it happens once and only once, and she was still engaged, so I was safe. So we talked. Talked more. At this point it was getting late, our joyful flirtations were beginning to grow relatively stale, for my taste anyway, and I was thinking about going to bed, with her. But I waffled and asked myself if she was worth it, if I really wanted to have sex with her, to continue our little banter out the bar, into my car, and into my bed. I asked myself if she was worth talking to tomorrow morning when I woke up and she needed a ride back to campus. In spite of these reservations we continued talking in the hopes that my man muscle would over power my reason. Then one of my friends came up to me in the midst of it all and mentioned she was hooking up with one of our mutual friends. Hooking up? Does that mean sex? I asked. No. So fair game. I thought it was humorous when I heard the name of who it was, but everyone has their tastes and I’m not one to judge. So among our extended conversations I noticed the guy was standing directly behind me. For whatever god forsaken reason I decided to be a little douch’ie and point out he was there. Hey look who it is, I motioned, it’s your boy. It was half joking, and I quite honestly expected her to get embarrassed and reject or ignore him. What turned out happening was pretty much what I expected, minus the rejection part. It got weird. He made a successful effort to make it awkward, which I happily acknowledged as awkward. He made some jokes and pretending to be retarded. Yea. I was totally lost as to what he was trying to do. Some retarded skit of his where he literally acts retarded and tells jokes, sorta like Jimmy south park style. Then he excused himself momentarily. The chick was pretty flustered. I asked if she was okay, and what the hell that was. She responded with a typical go-to, I’m so drunk I’m not sure what’s happening. So then I asked, are you a classy girl? she laughed and asked what classy was. I responded with, classy is having good taste. She laughed, I laughed, then, I think, she got my insinuation and excused herself. Good riddance. The next I saw her she had retreated to his presence. I find the whole thing laughable really.

So I decided to dip out at that point. No need for petty hook ups with desperate girls slooting it around. I drove home and, upon entering the gated community, I began tailgating this white mercedes. The only reason I was tailgating, in gods honest truth, was because there are typically zero parking spots at that time of night and I hoped to snake one from this car. From my car I see three blonde heads and a set of blue beady eyes lasering in on me from the back seat. We maneuvered throughout the parking lot, slowly, cause they rode their brakes in an effort to aggravate me and stall my persistent inclination to tailgate. No matter. It didn’t deter me and I rode practically on top of them. Fortunately, or unfortunately, we ended up parking right next to eachother. Some blonde girl gets out of the car and quickly approaches me as I get out, asking, do you always have the nerve to tailgate in a parking lot? I laughably responded with, only when I’m drunk and really wanna get a parking spot before you. That ameliorated the tension for a moment, then I noticed two other striking blondes step out of the car. I subconsciously asked myself if I had died and gone to heaven on the way home. False. No matter, it was a close second.

I continued talking with these girls in a playful manner as they hassled me for tailgating. Their initial aggression quickly evaporated as I laughed and smiled sheepishly while I explained that I was really trying to steal a spot from them. We continued our conversation as I walked towards my building, then they hassled me about following them. I responded that they were stalking me and probably knew were I lived and were waiting to follow me inside. It was all fun. Their names? Emily, Virginia, Chelsea… I think. The last one, Chelsea, was by far the most attractive, and it’s funny cause I spent the least time looking or acknowledging her, and I wish I hadn’t. Again, and I need to reiterate, the last one was by far the most stunning, with sharp delicate features, a petite and slender figure, and pleasant almond eyes with plush flowing blonde hair. The other two had recently graduated from ole miss. The third, Chelsea, although I’m almost certain that isn’t her name, had graduated from the ‘state’, or Mississippi state after I reflected a moment on what the hell that meant. They lived in my building. When we departed we said farewell and I voiced that I was hoping to see them again. Despite their coy reluctance to embrace my good humor and genuine nature, they were definitely fond of me and I could see they were fighting to stop the smiles that enveloped their faces as I approached and introduced myself to all of them.
Is it weird that I’m recounting all this info? Ha. Nah.

So, moral of the story. Women are predictably unpredictable. So, nothing new learned today. But classes are good.

Job search… commenced. Good money, I hope. Let’s see if I can secure a healthcare consulting job within the next month. Cause frankly, that’s when they stop offering their job offers. ha.

Oh. And I’m trying to get mega jacked and in shape. I’ll continue updating my progress. I weigh 187. Ridiculously unsat. I need to convert that to 100% muscle stat. Gimme three weeks and I’ll be down 10 pounds of fat and a pound of two of mucscle. Woot. Love genetics. Cheers.

Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding: Hume’s Empiricism, Skepticism, and Naturalism

The whole premise of Hume’s An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding was to delineate the limits of human understanding and put a rest to metaphysical speculation by grounding philosophical reasoning in experience rather than pure reason. From the outset Hume’s preferred method of inquiry is scientific, based on observation and experimentation, rather than purely abstract reasoning. He posits that any fruitful beliefs about the world must be rooted in experience rather than wholly reflective theorizing.

I will begin by briefly summarizing Hume’s primary claims regarding his empiricism, skepticism, and naturalism and illustrate his emphasis on each of these in an effort to show that his philosophy is consistent and equally supports all three. I will ultimately conclude that his account of naturalism is the least developed of the three. This paper will then examine the methods and their accuracy that he employs in developing each of these. Continue reading “Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding: Hume’s Empiricism, Skepticism, and Naturalism”

Thoughts on Rorty's Neo-pragmatism

Rorty lays out a compelling case for his rendition of pragmatism. Ultimately his claim produces the same effect as the sentence “This sentence has no significance.” By throwing out the ideas of essential truths and knowledge as simply products of social convention, he adopts a pseudo-relativistic view of the world where truth and knowledge are contingent upon the starting points afforded to us by our language. However, he maintains that conversational inquiry has a purpose and maintains a utility, despite where its conclusions may lead. As the aforementioned sentence demonstrates, despite its conclusion or message, we are engaged in an activity that, while futile, allows us to converge in understanding. In the event if we decide to evade the contingency of our starting points and continue the pursuit of higher essences, we do so not as a means of establishing something essential, but to satisfy some “Metaphysical Comfort”.  Continue reading “Thoughts on Rorty's Neo-pragmatism”

Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding: Hume's Empiricism, Skepticism, and Naturalism

The whole premise of Hume’s An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding was to delineate the limits of human understanding and put a rest to metaphysical speculation by grounding philosophical reasoning in experience rather than pure reason. From the outset Hume’s preferred method of inquiry is scientific, based on observation and experimentation, rather than purely abstract reasoning. He posits that any fruitful beliefs about the world must be rooted in experience rather than wholly reflective theorizing.

I will begin by briefly summarizing Hume’s primary claims regarding his empiricism, skepticism, and naturalism and illustrate his emphasis on each of these in an effort to show that his philosophy is consistent and equally supports all three. I will ultimately conclude that his account of naturalism is the least developed of the three. This paper will then examine the methods and their accuracy that he employs in developing each of these. Continue reading “Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding: Hume's Empiricism, Skepticism, and Naturalism”

Thoughts on Rorty’s Neo-pragmatism

Rorty lays out a compelling case for his rendition of pragmatism. Ultimately his claim produces the same effect as the sentence “This sentence has no significance.” By throwing out the ideas of essential truths and knowledge as simply products of social convention, he adopts a pseudo-relativistic view of the world where truth and knowledge are contingent upon the starting points afforded to us by our language. However, he maintains that conversational inquiry has a purpose and maintains a utility, despite where its conclusions may lead. As the aforementioned sentence demonstrates, despite its futile conclusion or message, we are engaged in an activity that allows us to converge in understanding. In the event if we decide to evade the contingency of our starting points and continue the pursuit of higher essences, we do so not as a means of establishing something essential, but to satisfy some “Metaphysical Comfort”.  Continue reading “Thoughts on Rorty’s Neo-pragmatism”

Manu

So I mostly try to maneuver my way into whatever conception a person wants to be me in, so long as it allows me to retain a certain control. I hate not having control. I love being able to manipulate responses. I exist in various states. I’m not one person. I am many people. I do my best to be whoever I can to whoever someone wants me to be. I am sensitive to peoples needs and I make sure I can superficially satisfy them with the right responses and behaviors.

I picked up the phone, but my heart sunk and my fingers trembled at the thought of what I was going to say. It didn’t exactly matter, but to me it did. To me it mattered a whole lot.

What should I write about? Being hollow. I hate harping on being hollow. Blah. I dream of an ideal life and it begins to bud and blossom, lifting a veil as though the gray began to evaporate into brilliant blue. I can see myself, full of passion, or diliberation, or something intentional rather than half ass and half meaningful.

I want to be hurting. I want pain. I do not want equilibirum. I don’t know how to impose equilibirum, but when it’s imposed on me I become pacified and passive, utterly facile and fatuous. My life’s meaning suddenly exfoliates and falls to the ground and I’m left looking at an empty shell of reasons and motives.

What story? I need story. NEED. These words. They designate some necessity, some compulsive demand. But there is none. It is all percieved. Content, like the stoics, I brush off the ‘need’ for this or that and instead I chose these vices, addictions, and the like as a matter of taste rather than necessity. It becomes silly and trivial.

How to transcend your mind? Get out of this shell? I wonder? Meditation. Drugs? Perhaps. Perhaps it’s throwing myself into the unknown, the unfamiliar. But god.. it’s all familiar. Then it dawns on me… the nausea. It begins to creep again. Meaning evaporates under its heavy wings, and coolness chills my world to the bitter bone. I begin to gnaw at this bone, in anxious compromise, in negligent care of my self worth. How to speak worthwhile? How to choose?

Why do I feel like I’m swimming in a generation of utterly retarded everything? BAEofheaihc

Random

I’m currently reading Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison, quite possibly one of the best books I’ve ever read. Although the fictional story is about a black boy coming to age in the north and south, I feel that I can somehow identify with his struggle, his feelings, his sentiments regarding naivety and injustice.

No, no, no. I am a fighter. I fight against the stream, against the locomotion of habit. I have no country, no people. I have this frail fragile ego that I neglect as best I can, cause feeding him only starves me, only detracts from the fight. God knows I need to fight more than I need to feed that obscene ego of mine.

The pendulum of her hips left my thoughts utterly suspended, drifting somewhere in that evil world your parents try hiding you from during adolescence when they cover your eyes or muffle your ears. It’s unfortunate that everyone eventually succumbs to these evil exposures, that piety cannot be preserved. However severe the exposure turns out, it seems that innocence will forever plague a parents priorities. The white soulful innocence being thrown to the mud, to the baneful slaughter of swine, is much too painful for a mother concerned with the health and hygiene of her heredity.

Inconsequential. That’s what I think of life. Unless you do something radical. And what is radical? Irrevocable. Unconventional. Something so drastic that it tears people from the white walls of their placidity with a desecrating splatter of shock and awe. Words used to matter. They move the minds of those who have practiced the art of fine-tuning, of finding rhythm amongst the discord, harmony amongst the harrowing howl. But even that’s a stretch. Who know’s why we admire the decrepit preachers of past paramount.

Fear is a response. Nothing is in the world. All is a representation of some prior perception. These perceptions carve out a narrow sliver in reality, dub over this fabricated facticity called time, and ascribe names and symbols for preserving past observations.

I’d love to be an individualist, but I must pay tribute to the society that raised and reared me. I would love to be a socialist, but I may pay tribute to the individuality that contemptuously forces its way onto the world.  These anarchistic thoughts arose out of the philosophical contemplation of the irreconcilability of authority and autonomy. There is no legitimate authority if I am to be an autonomous man. Then again, we may say that I am not autonomous: what then becomes of the conundrum?

Don’no

Who am I? What’s holding me down? A people? Goals? What do I want to do with my life? I need to shake myself free from myself. I have no place. No direction. I am floating.

I don’t speak with conviction. I don’t believe in anything enough to speak up. It seems my spirit to live is barely alive. I sit and wait, for some force, for some demand, to move me somewhere.

I hide from myself. I hide behind an image, books, all these things that I’m not entirely authentic about. Even that word is ambiguous. Nausea. Here it is.

Her

“Set your sights high, the higher the better. Expect the most wonderful things to happen, not in the future but right now. Realize that nothing is too good. Allow absolutely nothing to hamper you or hold you up in any way.”
— Eileen Caddy

So I talked to my ex girl friend of five years on Friday. Do I still love her? Do I still feel a flood of emotions when I hear her voice? Yes. We only talked for twenty minutes and most of what we talked about was mundane and routine: how is your family? what’re you up to? where are you working? any boyfriends? etc. Nonetheless, I love her. One day I’d like to get to know her again. what do I mean by love her? I mean, my body goes weak, I get nervous, I want to be by her side whenever I think about her. That’s how that goes down.

I’m a different person than I was five years ago. I know she is too. I don’t hold anything against her. I don’t pretend to know who she is these days. I only remember who she use to be. And I hope that’s not how she remember’s me. I was batshit outta my mind when I was in highschool. Nowadays I only talk that way. I’m not actually bat shit crazy (debateable). Nevertheless.

I want to see her again. I want to fly her up to new england and see all the beautiful lush green mountains. I want to take her to a island with a cabin on the lake and spend a day or two getting to know who she’s become since we last left off. I’m going to call her monday and tell her I’m buying her a plane ticket and ask her what days work best for her. If she says she can’t do it, well, I have nothing to lose. I will be in Nashville, she’ll be in Orlando. I don’t have anything to do with her. It doesn’t matter to me. I just know how I felt about her at the age of 17, 18, 19… and even now, even though we haven’t spoken in almost two years.

So I want to fly her up here. She said she’s never been to new england. One of the few places she hasn’t been she says.

Man. xxx. We’ll see. She’s a free spirit. Does whatever. I just wanna take care of her and love her and such. Ever since I’ve decided to make myself into a better person its her I think about as the driving reason. One day I want to feel that strongly again. I know that if I can’t be with her, I want it to be with someone who is even better, or at least someone I’m prepared to deal with. I’m tired. And drunk. and hooka’ed out. night.

 

 

Skin

I know what it is that get’s under my skin. The chincey catch lines, the quotes, avatars: everything carefully chosen to reveal a disgusting production of a person. A hollow shell. A digital representation. Quotes by celebrities.

Life makes me sick, sicker than hell, and most excited and enthusiastic- all at the same time. I am a wonderful paradox. I can’t figure it out. I shouldn’t figure it out. Absurdity. God. I just don’t want to be a pathetic stranger, to myself. I hate being a duplicate. Another so called ‘individual’.

I love looking at these so called individuals… and seeing them as pathetically shallow rip-offs… only to realize that I may as well be talking about myself. I cannot let myself escape the criticism I condemn others with. It would be too hypocritical. I might fight it more than them, but I am subjected to the same influences, the same conditioning contingencies. Wahh.

NEW NOVEL. FRESH FECUND. *cry*

I am a man. Lost. More thoughts tomorrow. Maybe. I need to stir and poke myself. .what the hell am I thinking. living iwth my aunt and uncle. another week. then maryland to see jamie, then virginia to see jeff, then nashville for classes.

What is Good Writing?

I like to think that practice and passion are the necessary elements for good writing. Structure and style, prose and poetics: these follow effortlessly from the deliberate declaration of your voice.

My aspiration is only to communicate the motifs comprising the human condition.

A side thought: A friend and I were talking the other day about writing and what it took to write well. My initial inclination was to say that practice and passion have been the driving force behind any great writer. But then we thought about those people who are just great at communicating ideas clearly without much practice or passion for the subject. I think we decided that the art of writing is like the art of drawing. The more you do it the better. But what’s most important are the ideas. You can’t draw something you cannot conceive. Likewise it is with writing. Ideas make writers great. If you work at communicating these, all else follows.

Too Much

202. TOO NEAR AND TOO FAR. Often reader and author do not understand each other because the author knows his theme too well and finds it almost boring, so that he leaves out the examples he knows by the hundred; but the reader is strange to the matter and finds it poorly substantiated if the examples are withheld from him.
~Friedrich Nietzsche, Human All Too Human.

I relate all too well.

Nu Day

I’ve got dozens of half finished drafts I need to finish writing and post. In time.

I’ve been angry lately. No so much angry, but confused and oppressed inside. It makes me want to lash out at the world. The answer to these problems, I believe, is found in this will to power, or will-power. The url of this blog “declare your being” is just another way of saying it. It means to act deliberately and openly, to express and institute your influence onto the world: To live unabashed, unashamed, loudly and proudly, to overcome fears, to make unrequited decisions.

We are gods. We are living worlds. Inside of us is where it all happens. Limitations are non-existent. They are simply preceptions. So this anger I feel, this oppression that clothes me and pacifies me and feminizes me, needs to be shaken and thrown off with a violent resistance. So I get angry. I get pissed. I tell myself, I’m gonna read the shit outta that book, I’m gonna look that person in the eye and tell them exactly what I think, I’m gonna lift the living hell outta that weight. I stand taller. I walk with more deliberation. I am confident.

Every day is a battle. The battle exists in my mind. Either you make life work for you, or you end up working for life. I will overcome on a daily basis. I will remind myself that this battle is real. It is a battle of will power and the world. Either I will over come, or I will be overcome. I will do, or I will die. And I want to burn brilliantly. I want to live with zealous enthusiasm and zest. I want my words to echo and strike a chord in every man’s mind and heart. I want to maintain influence over myself that people look at in awe. I want to self-command, to master myself.

I don’t want to philosophize to the point where I whither and shrivel and think myself out of action. Or do anything that makes me un-willing for that matter. Activity is life. I should only contemplate that which is useful for attaining certain ends and nothing else.

Labour not unwillingly, nor without regard to the common interest, nor without due consideration, nor with distraction; nor let studied ornament set off thy thoughts, and be not either a man of many words, or busy about too many things.
~Marcus Aurelius, Meditations Bk. III

I must learn to concentrate my efforts. None of this ADD bullshit. No need for superfluous and aureate interests. Simple tasks, in linear fashion.

Tomorrow I will write out my goals. I will write out my goals and I will stick to them. I will make the decision, and decisions are half the battle. Each decision will come with action, with concentrated will-power. Each goal will contain smaller goals that I will achieve with fluidity and ease. And each of these I accomplish will add fuel to my will-power. I will not wait. I will not hesitate. I will not take my time, for I have none I can afford to lose.

Passion is will-power. Action. Act with furious conviction. Will anger. With an intent to dominate with perfect execution and form. With a daring and bold courage that emanates and swells from within you.

Aging and Poverty: Longevity and Wealth

So I e-mailed a group of my more thoughtful and opinionated friends the following link:

DNA test links ageing and poverty: Scientists in Glasgow develop a new test of the ageing process, which confirms it is linked to social factors.

They responded to the article back and forth in typical jesting fashion (see below). These are my abridged thoughts:

I’d like to add my psychoanalytic interpretation: In the American capitalist culture, wealth and materialism are some of the most prized values. The failure to achieve success in their acquisition, as typified by the vast majority of people, may be the cause of the depression and anxiety we identify as being so prevalent.

Think about it: If you existed in a culture where the value of a person was measured in terms of wealth and material possessions, and you lacked these things, what would that do to an individual’s psyche? My guess: it would result in a profound neurosis, something like the collapse of the ego, due to the failures to live up to these societal indicators of value. The duress of this failure would undoubtedly cause a physical stress to manifest in all sorts of ailments.

Of course, our society doesn’t only see the value of a person in wealth and material accumulation, but mainstream media and pop-culture definitely over inflate how important these values should be perceived. Depending on your cultural influences, anything could cause a neurosis like depression if you were to fail to live up to a societal standard of value and success. Most other cultures value family, community, altruism, intelligence, religion, etc. In some parts of China culture academics seems to be the trump value, in South American cultures we find family, in Middle Eastern cultures we find piety and devotion. The list goes on. Failure to live up to these values in their respective culture would be a major blow to the ego.

My point is this: in a culture that emphasizes values such as wealth that inherently operate as a result of scarcity, it’s no wonder we have so much ‘mental illness’ such as anxiety and depression. It is impossible for everyone to possess a value that by definition is reserved for few. Yet, capitalism relies on our desire to live out this fantasy in order to consume and possess by any means possible, even if it means selling ourselves as slaves to debt.

The remedy exists in realizing that these values are culturally dictated and that your value as a person can and should be self-generated and dictated from within; and this is by no means an easy task. We navigate our world through symbols and the symbolic meanings attached to them are typically inherited from our culture: community, family, peer group, etc. It’s extremely difficult to overcome this conditioning, and I’d say that only the most genius in a society ever successfully create a system of values and meanings that are original to them and them alone.

I’ll end by saying that stress is a major cause of physical aging. The more money one has, the less one has to worry about. You may argue that accumulating that wealth may cause even greater stress, but I’d defer to a Bible verse to counter: “For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs” (1 Timothy 6:10).

Now, I’m not a religious person, but I mine for wisdom where I can find it. Having money and loving money are two different animals in my book. If you can accumulate money without getting absorbed in a romance with it, I believe you will not only live longer, but you will live happier!

 

Continue reading “Aging and Poverty: Longevity and Wealth”

Mer

Why don’t I write? Some inadequecy that lurks beneath. Something that grips my motives and violently shakes me into retreat. Why? I mean, I’m not sure exactly. Sententious speak.

As predicted, the world’s boiling over. This world, this society, living in delusional states, it’s vapid affairs simply rolling along, not because there’s any inherent meaning and necessity to the madness, but because us men, us intrepid sheep, are suckers for tradition, for the familiar inheritances we deem as having so much value. When, in reality, it’s nothing but mindless manipulation. When we try to escape, we escape only deeper, not beyond.

Drunk.

This summer is coming to a close. A good amount of drinking, and reading, and traveling has been accomplished. I like to think every experience amounts to some value, but I must remember that context determines all meaning, all utility, all purpose. Am I any more of a person? Eh. Let’s define the context, right? Well, I sure as hell don’t have an answer at the moment.

I need to expunge so much. Blah. I’ve been working two jobs. One, at Wells Fargo Advisors working for a wealth management group. The other, a manufacturing job at International Ceramic Engineering. There’s a pretty steep contrast between the two jobs. One is saturated with intelligent, driven, ambitious white collared workers; the other involves the illiterate, mostly foreign, blue collar laborers. At the engineering company I press buttons all day. I literally bring a book to work that I read while I’m on the job. It’s too un-stimulating to bear otherwise. I read a book every other day. It’s been great for reading. It’s also been great for showing me what the vast majority of uneducated American’s do every day to provide for their families and make a living. Vastly different dispositions in the working peers I encounter each day. Vastly different experiences gained. I’ll add more later.

Our world is pretty messed up at the moment. Or, at least, that’s how it’s being portrayed in the media and news. I’m not sure if they are capitalizing on the opportunity to inflate mild market shifts to instill fear, or if there really is reason to be concerned for the stability of the world. Riots, market volatility and crashes, unemployment, violence, political bickering and selfish debating, fiscal irresponsibility and mismanagement, misplaced policy priorities: the list could continue along.

I need to contemplate more, extract more from my mind, my experiences. It’s not enough to have an expeirence. You must make an experience work for you, make somehting of it, recall it and give it meaning, contextualize it. You know? Many people have experiences, and

Cosmetic Enhancement: Thoughts

Fake tans, fake nose, hair extensions, plastic nails, plastic boobs, porcelain teeth, colored contacts, tuck, suck. And a side of antidepressants. We have an interesting culture.

A friend kindly pointed out:

Cosmetic enhancement – people act as if this is new. It’s not. The technology has simply caught up with ambitions thousands of years old. Every culture and group within the culture, and even some daring self-making individuals, have their standard of mental and physical beauty/health. We are becoming more of what we’ve been, and in some cases, better for it.

Although I’m fully aware of this tradition of body modification as a means to express individuality, or to endorse cultural practices through symbolic body alteration, my issue lies in the motives. So, to his response, I ask “What is it that we’ve been? Is it a good thing that we’re becoming more of it? What makes you think that where we’re going is good? Do you think there is unhealthy self-expression?”

I take issue with is the glorification of appearances. I have no issues with any form of self expression so long it’s authentic and not the result of some implanted societal neurosis. To each his own. The idealist in me wishes society placed more emphasis on the inner life rather than on the outer. The physical fades. A sound mind and character are more enduring and reliable. I get it, our society values appearances. But, save the asthetic value, appearances don’t improve society. They make it more carnal and superficial. If you need to look good by societies standards to have self worth or feel good about yourself, go for it. But i don’t think that’s a lasting fix. If you’re doing it for yourself, go for it. If it’s for others, good luck pleasing the fickle masses. But again, I get it: we’re sexual creatures motivated by desire and passion, rather than reason and good will. I recognize we’re social creatures. I recognize that we navigate our world by sight. But I believe sight is a poor, misleading guide. Most people look alive on the outside but they are virtually dead on the inside. We use our sight to discern between friends and foes, to identify the familiar and unfamiliar. It allows us to pass judgement on things without really engaging and experiencing with them. It’s a cheap and empty way to make value judgements about the world. That’s my take. I’m just as guilty as the next. I don’t think I’m right, or wrong, that’s just my current sentiment.

I know I cant escape my cultural conditioning. I know I’m inclined to like what I’ve been raised to believe is valuable and beautiful. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so I needn’t worry about what society makes of my wife so long as I love her.

At base, I believe that civilization is a disease.

Culture is a product of civilization’s fabricated demands. There’s nothing natural about civilization. It is a result of this will to power, this will to be a prosthetic god, to impose influence, to rule over our world. What need is there to self-express to yourself? We self-express for others. It seems that way anyway. It’s a product of competition to stand out, to be an individual. When you have yourself and you are content and full within yourself, what need is there to self express? Music can be good. Passions can be good. At least when they are cathartic or inspired. What standard is man. What is culture? It’s a a fabricated environment. In nature, there are natural demands. In civilization, there is culture. Nature is niether good nor bad. How then could be culture be good or bad?

Culture is artificial demands. They are foreign. Are they natural? Vanity? Insecurity? Yielding to cultural expectations and demands?

Cosmetic enhancement: being someone you’re not? or being someone you really are but couldn’t otherwise be?

I suppose in a society that prizes such superficial perfection you can’t expect anyone to settle for anything less. So would I marry a short haired hodgey podgey little woman? In another time and another place.

Internal man vs external man

Eating disorder/Obesity vs cosmetic surgery: underlying issue?

What if obesity was beautiful? Till it was unhealthy? To each his own? Until what? We’re footing the health care bill with our taxes?

 

Willfully Powerful

Lower organisms overcome competition by multiplying, through progeny or duplication.
Higher organisms overcome competition by dominating, through killing or deviant oppression.

Vegetation, containing the most basic of organisms, simply multiply into sheer numbers for survival. Predators, containing the greatest complexity of organisms, have little offspring, but survive by killing off competition and threats. Humans can be said to be the greatest of predators. However, we have reached a new plateau. We no longer kill the body. We kill the mind.

Interesting to note: Developed societies have an inverse proportion of low birthrates to immense knowledge and power. Undeveloped societies have an inverse proportion of high birth rates to limited knowledge and power. Humans have graduated a rung on the ladder of power by learning to dominate through knowledge. Knowledge (language) is the ultimate tool of influence and domination.

Knowledge is power. It is the ultimate form of power. No longer do people live through their offspring. They live through their ideas and influence. These ideas and influence, this knowledge, is a means of dictating a subjective reality to others to ensure their conformity. Once knowledge has been programmed, and their critical self consciousness sufficiently whithers, influence can be effortlessly woven into their unconscious mind.

He who has the power decides the knowledge. Knowledge is nothing without power. Recall the institutions throughout the age, religious and academic and governmental. Look at the trends of academic development. Is it a wonder that western civilization’s knowledge has so pervasively made itself the gold standard for knowing?

All things are subject to interpretation whichever interpretation prevails at a given time is afunction of power and not truth. ~Friedrich Nietzsche

Formal education seeks to indoctrinate minds with a formal historical knowledge. This knowledge breeds functional fixedness, among other constricting cognitive maladies. It is predicated by predetermined definitions and parameters dictated by predecessors. It prevents fecund creative minds from adopting novel solutions to problems in order to maintain a homogeneous worldview.  It also limits the ability to see, to conjure possibility.

Formal education is a process of censorship where rough robust rocks are hewed into small smooth stones. Such rocks are more manageable and less dangerous.

Knowledge can be a dangerous thing, a threat to a free flowering imagination where possibility blooms. It is a subversive means of control. It bestows a false sense of empowerment. Be wary of who’s feeding it to you. Animals always return to be fed: this is how domestication occurs. Feed yourself. Experience and experiment. Challenge.

Arguing is not about right or wrong; it is about will, the will to power. Arguments are about winning and losing, where the winner has successfully demonstrated his robust capacity for his knowledge and the loser willfully accepts defeat on the false grounds that he is wrong, rather than without. We’ve developed a ‘civilized culture’ where killing is no longer a suitable means for demonstrating the will to power. Today it is demonstrated through dialog. But this dialog is terribly slanted and skewed to serve a foreign body of knowledge that we have willfully adopted to believe is our own. And, in our minds, we are right, until this bastardized knowledge tells us we’re wrong.

Tired. Need more clarity. More thoughts later.

Random Thoughts and Notes Dump:

You will never solve the worlds problems; you can only solve your own.
Search the origin of your thoughts and you will discover they are not original to you.
I master myself so that I may master others.
Improve your condition by improving the condition of others.
There is no such thing as hard work; only time well spent.

I have accepted that people will fail you, there will always be failures who are okay with failing. These are the majority, though they don’t know it. People rationalize their failures like they rationalize their morality. There is no one who is good for all. Even Jesus was bad for the Pharisee’s. I must will myself to power, to dominate through subversiveness, by leveraging the good will of others. I must be first feared, then loved. Love is a great deterrent, but fear is greater. The fear of the lord is the beginning of wisdom, says the bible. Likewise it is when I am feared. But never bark without bite, and let it be strategic and well planned.

Intelligence is no substitute for experience. Only experience renders wisdom.
I don’t want to continue being the person I’ve been.
The more I love, the more I feel loved.

A dream:

I had a dream last night and you were in it. We hung out and talked. It was interesting. I hope you’re as cool in real life as you were in my dream. So you came over my boss’ house to keep me company. You were wearing a baby blue sundress and a white flower in your hair. We talked and messed around on the computer. It appeared to have what looked like porn virus, which was awkward. We walked around a country road with some trained puppies. Had them catch us foxes then we domesticated them and they were our friends.  Then pirates in flying boats landed near the house we were watching. Police and pirates crashed and continued gunfighting. I got shot in my leg by pirates. You helped keep me safe and tend my wound, which eventually got worse. We had a tough time looking for the bullet but eventually pushed it out. So we played a slot machine and made a few grand and continued figuring out our escape. Etc.,

It’s the fool who plays it cool by making the world a little colder

Dure

What’s wrong with our country? Our economy, our politics, our propaganda, our values, our media, our individuals: our culture: a fabricated fortress of rhetoric that keeps more in than it keeps out. We are at the pinnacle of our glory. It could be argued that we’ve been improving along the way, but I don’t think we’re any further along than the Romans or Greeks or Egyptians once were. We’re proud and gluttonous and utterly facile. We’ve built a society that takes care of the harder tasks of life and we’ve grown grotesquely dependent on it. We seek to escape the struggle to survive as if we were above it, as if we were gods and not crawling creatures and defacating animals. Every culture seeks to mimic the glorified, be it Christ or Buddha or Caesar or America or celebrities or politicians or businessmen. I’m not convinced we’re free or further along at all. In the struggle for survival it seems humans quite naturally seek to rob themselves of the very skills to survive until they are at the mercy of a machine of influence and power that they claim is a true reflection of their wants and wishes. Somewhere along the line this towering confluence of congenial compromise conquers its makers it a brash and booming way. And I think we’ll all be around to see it happen. I read that scientists believe that the first person that will live to 150 years of age has already been born, and within the next fifty years the first person to live to 1,000 years of age will be born. Man is obsessed with conquering. It’s the heroism that bolsters the ego out of its wormy condition. The ultimate obstruction for man to surmount is death. I do not think we’ll accomplish this feat. I believe we’re terribly blinded to the realities of our physical nature. The economy, the government, the science- it’s all supported by a delicate web of beliefs built purely on faith. And once the pacification is jarred and we’re confronted with our frailty? it will unravel and crash. Until then, the media and government and society- the culture- will continue perpetuating it’s childish myths as fact and not fiction. It serves the utility of contemporaneousness community and comfort.

I feel like history repeats itself. I watched Doctor Zhivago this evening (If you didn’t know already, the novel is amazing, and the 1965 is equally riveting and moving).  While I was watching the movie a particular quote struck me quite profoundly and I kept it in the back of my mind until now:

In bourgeois terms, it was a war between the Allies and Germany. In Bolshevik terms, it was a war between the Allied and German upper classes – and which of them won was of total indifference. My task was to organize defeat, so as to hasten the onset of revolution. I enlisted under the name of Petrov. The party looked to the peasant conscript soldiers – many of whom were wearing their first real pair of boots. When the boots had worn out, they’d be ready to listen. When the time came, I was able to take three whole battalions out of the front lines with me – the best day’s work I ever did. But for now, there was nothing to be done. There were too many volunteers. Most of it was mere hysteria.

This quote made me think of our current situation. Wars all across the globe, on foreign fronts where the massacre and murder can be fed to us second hand at a safe distance. Who makes the decisions for our country? Our government, almost synonymous with the lobby powers of business and political influence, our modern bourgeois. They speak and the masses listen with hysterical enthusiasm to whatever call that strokes their insecurities and passions.

*

I made music tonight. It felt good. I went to Vladik’s this evening to celebrate his completion of the DAT examination. We conversed while drinking shots of Silver Tequila and smoking cigarillos. I played guitar and he produced beats and rhythm on the keyboard and computer. We got about a minute of music and lyrics down. It sounds good. I’ll post when we’re finished.

 

More Time

‘To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive, and the true success is to labour.’
— Robert Louis Stevenson

Sometimes people will look down on the wanderers, saying they have no direction. I laugh at these people. I would rather travel everywhere and arrive nowhere, than travel somewhere just to arrive there and there alone. How bland. I would rather my cup overflow with experience than fill it up once and savor it drop by drop while never knowing anything else.

Although, I can see how it cuts both ways. Direction is good. Arriving is good. What gets me is ‘settling’. Or thinking that there is one direction, one path, one way, that we deem best or best for us. We are infinite creatures. Thus, we are strangers to ourselves. Experience is the best mirror for showing us to ourselves. Better yet, experience that was unplanned, uncharted, unexpected, and- best of all- uncomfortable! Only then are we given the opportunity to grow- or whither if we choose to shirk.

There is no ‘arrive’. Let’s discard this notion. Success is the continual realization of a worthy ideal. Who said you need just one? Can’t I have many? I want them all! Too bad my time is limited. It forces me to make choices; or, more specifically, sacrifices. But choices are good. They are a reflection of our selves, our values: the culmination of past experiences that have shaped and molded my present being.

Reflexivity. Second-order cybernetics. Now that’s an interesting study.

*

So. There are about 7 billion people on this earth. How can you make a difference? How can you make change and lasting impact? I know not everyone wants these things, but I do. You have one life, ONE LIFE. Then you die. Sure, you can talk about afterlife and the like, but the bottom line is, we have one life. This life. What makes ours any more unique or worthwhile than the other billions of people? I don’t want to pursue the masses and their meek or grandiose delusions. God. It’s so damn easy to adopt the cultural imprints we’ve been handed. It requires no thought. We touch a flame, we get burned. We learn. We do something a certain way, we’re told that’s wrong. We learn. But why don’t people challenge their behaviors more often? blah. Same ol’, same ol’. There’s utility in doing what we’ve always done, I suppose. But I need to get deeper into this issue. Need to study Path Dependence.

“The fact that an opinion has been widely held is no evidence whatever that it is not utterly absurd; indeed, in view of the silliness of the majority of mankind, a wide-spread belief is more likely to be foolish than sensible”
—Bertrand Russell

Tomorrow I’m gonna read and study and write a lot. I have a lot of thoughts that need hashing.

I have a pet peeve: People who don’t communicate well. More precisely, people who refuse to communicate and fail to seek mutual understanding or compromise through dialog. I guess we don’t really need to communicate to everyone about everything. We can pick and choose our battles.  But I guess I’m referring to the people with ego or pride issues. They refuse to compromise because it freightens the shit outta them. It’s like it reveals a chink in their egos armor, a devastating weakness that leaves them vulnerable. Drop the ego, dammit. Or, if you’re gonna keep it, be confident enough to retain a sense of self that doesn’t vaporize every time it’s challenged.

That’s the other thing: The best way to win an argument is to avoid it. The best way to win a fight is to choose fights you can win. You want to beat a competitor? Do it on your own terms, not on theirs. Look at all the successful companies and people in the world. They were revolutionary and they succeeded because of it. They were not successful because they beat someone at their own game. These people rarely get the same acclaim and recognition as someone who dictates their own battles and rules of the game. I think of apple. There are so many companies who can do what apple does, but apple did it first.  Or Microsoft, or GE, or any great company or philosopher or leader. You can’t very well be a leader in anything if you are pursuing a standard someone else set. You can’t beat them at their own game. Everyone else becomes a sad copy, a weak imitation, no matter how great or hard they try. BUT, it’s often the case that if you want to make your own rules you must first master the existing rules.

*

“Our life is frittered away by detail. Simplify, simplify, simplify! Simplicity of life and elevation of purpose.”
-Henry David Thoreau

I need to simplify! My thoughts, my goals, my life. And ELEVATE a purpose, make it the sole and central focus of my life!

Reflexivity

I’ve always been fascinated by the concept of reflexivity. What is reflexivity? It is the bidirectional relationship of a subject as both a participant (manipulative function) and observer (cognitive function) between “cause and effect”. As an observer I watch a fire burn; as a participant I add fuel to the fire or stifle its flame: my beliefs about the observed fire, if it is growing or dwindling, influence how I engage with it.  Maybe a more accurate example relates to prices: my current willingness to buy a good is influenced by the price I observe and, in turn, the act of buying drives up demand which increases the price and influences my price observations, affecting my future willingness to buy (I’ll work on a clearer example).

While I’m fascinated with the sociological implications, I’m even more fascinated with how these implications manifest within economic decision making. I really need to investigate and read up on behavioral economics more thoroughly.

I’ve been aware of the concept of reflexivity for quite awhile but only recently has it perked my interest in the context of economics and finance. Before that my understanding was confined to the psychological decision making aspects. What really brought these two together was my recent interest in how mass speculation affects the market place. Two books cultivated this interest, specifically “A Short History of Financial Euphoria” and “The Big Short”.

So reflexivity. Karl Popper introduced this idea into social theory, and social theory and economics, as you can imagine, are intimately linked. George Soros, a pupil of Popper, really capitalized on the utility of synthesizing and applying the two concepts to finance. That’s where I want to continue my study.

There are three areas of study that fascinate me at the moment: Evolutionary Economics, Reflexivity and Social Theory, and Disequilibrium States (more specifically, the process of creative destruction as coined by Schumpeter).  I’d really like to apply some philosophy and social theory to economics and come up with a qualitative economic system that capitalizes on the current short comings of neoclassical thought and market structures. Soros has done it, but I’d like to master his ideas and continue progressing with them. There’s gotta be some piece of the puzzle, or pie, that I can really develop and utilize for gain. I found this lil’ power point to be a helpful introduction to some of Soro’s ideas. My next readings will involve the works of Karl Popper (Philosophy of Science), Robert Schiller (Behavioral Economics), George Soros (Reflexivity), and Hyman Minsky (Disequilibrium States).

Soro’s provides a brief introduction to his concept of reflexivity in his book The Age of Fallibility:

”On the one hand, we seek to understand our situation. I call this the cognitive function. On the other hand, we seek to make an impact on the world. I call this the participating function. The two functions work in opposite directions and they can interfere with each other. The cognitive function seeks to improve our understanding. The participating function seeks to improve our position in the world. If the two functions operated independently of each other, they could in theory serve their purpose perfectly well. If reality were independently given our views could correspond to reality. And if our decisions were based on knowledge, the outcomes would correspond to our expectations. But that is not the case because the two functions intersect, and where they intersect they may interfere with each other. I have given the interference a name: reflexivity. . . .”

Here’s a video where Soro’s goes further in depth with his thoughts on reflexivity titled The New Paradigm for Financial Markets.

http://mitworld.mit.edu/flash/player/Main.swf?host=cp58255.edgefcs.net&flv=mitw-01094-sloan-econ-soros-financial-mkts-28oct2008&preview=http://mitworld.mit.edu//uploads/mitw01094sloaneconsorosfinancialmkts28oct2008.jpg

 

Why I think this concept is so interesting is that it incorporates a multitude of qualitative cognitive functions as well as mechanisms that result from enculturation and socialization that guide choice and action.

All that aside, today I read an amazing article on evolutionary economics titled Evolutionary Economics and the Extension of Evolution to the Economy. I’d recommend the read if nothing else but to expand your knowledge on the promising subject of evolutionary economics.

More thoughts later.

I’m never sold on one person’s theory or another’s. My aim is always to understand and synthesize them all into my own unique perspective that I can successfully apply.

Thoughts on Reflexivity

I’ve always been fascinated by the concept of reflexivity. What is reflexivity? It is the bidirectional relationship of a subject as both a participant (manipulative function) and observer (cognitive function) between “cause and effect”. As an observer I watch a fire burn; as a participant I add fuel to the fire or stifle its flame: my beliefs about the observed fire, if it is growing or dwindling, influence how I engage with it.  Maybe a more accurate example relates to prices: my current willingness to buy a good is influenced by the price I observe and, in turn, the act of buying drives up demand which increases the price and influences my price observations, affecting my future willingness to buy (I’ll work on a clearer example).

While I’m fascinated with the sociological implications, I’m even more fascinated with how these implications manifest within economic decision making. I really need to investigate and read up on behavioral economics more thoroughly.

I’ve been aware of the concept of reflexivity for quite awhile but only recently has it perked my interest in the context of economics and finance. Before that my understanding was confined to the psychological decision making aspects. What really brought these two together was my recent interest in how mass speculation affects the market place. Two books cultivated this interest, specifically “A Short History of Financial Euphoria” and “The Big Short”.

Karl Popper introduced the idea of reflexivity into social theory, and social theory and economics, as you can imagine, are intimately linked. George Soros, a pupil of Popper, really capitalized on the utility of synthesizing and applying the two concepts to finance. That’s where I want to continue my study.

There are three areas of study that fascinate me at the moment: Evolutionary Economics, Reflexivity and Social Theory, and Disequilibrium States (more specifically, the process of creative destruction as coined by Schumpeter).  I’d really like to apply some philosophy and social theory to economics and come up with a qualitative economic system that capitalizes on the current short comings of neoclassical thought and market structures. Soros has done it, but I’d like to master his ideas and continue progressing with them. There’s gotta be some piece of the puzzle, or pie, that I can really develop and utilize for gain. I found this lil’ power point to be a helpful introduction to some of Soro’s ideas. My next readings will involve the works of Karl Popper (Philosophy of Science), Robert Schiller (Behavioral Economics), George Soros (Reflexivity), and Hyman Minsky (Disequilibrium States).

Soro’s provides a brief introduction to his concept of reflexivity in his book The Age of Fallibility:

”On the one hand, we seek to understand our situation. I call this the cognitive function. On the other hand, we seek to make an impact on the world. I call this the participating function. The two functions work in opposite directions and they can interfere with each other. The cognitive function seeks to improve our understanding. The participating function seeks to improve our position in the world. If the two functions operated independently of each other, they could in theory serve their purpose perfectly well. If reality were independently given our views could correspond to reality. And if our decisions were based on knowledge, the outcomes would correspond to our expectations. But that is not the case because the two functions intersect, and where they intersect they may interfere with each other. I have given the interference a name: reflexivity. . . .”

Here’s a video where Soro’s goes further in depth with his thoughts on reflexivity titled The New Paradigm for Financial Markets.

 

Why I think this concept is so interesting is that it incorporates a multitude of qualitative cognitive functions as well as mechanisms that result from enculturation and socialization that guide choice and action.

All that aside, today I read an amazing article on evolutionary economics titled Evolutionary Economics and the Extension of Evolution to the Economy. I’d recommend the read if nothing else but to expand your knowledge on the promising subject of evolutionary economics.

More thoughts later.

I’m never sold on one person’s theory or another’s. My aim is always to understand and synthesize them all into my own unique perspective that I can successfully apply.

Llik

My; life.

What is my life. I’ve been working, but it’s hardly been enough to take care of my preoccupations. I don’t know what to think anymore.

We are our thoughts, no? Why is life absurd? Why can’t I take anything seriously? Why do all these earthy pursuits suddenly become tarnished and ruined upon inspection? Everything is fine until I turn inward and take a look at what I have, what I’ve been given. It makes everything terribly silly and trivial. I don’t know what I’m saying.

I’ve been drinking a ton. Wine mostly. Beer every now and then. Some liquer on the weekends when I’m feeling wreckless.

I don’t have anything to say about much, at the moment anyway. I feel dull inside. I’m alive, animated, but somehow absent. I don’t need to diagnose myself. I don’t need to get down and critical and pull apart every historical thought and environmental sensation. I just want to feel full. I want a purpose. I know that’s my responsibility. I definitely understand why people choose religion, why people let other people choose their fate, their thoughts and feelings. It’s terribly paralyzing being responsible all the time. I tell myself: labor, suffering, and love: this tri-fecta of human phenomenon is inescapable, and it’s acceptance is the beginning of fulfillment.  But I always try to escape it, find the easy way out. I seriously find myself getting as comfortable as possible, doing the minimum, asking as little as possible from myself. I know this isn’t entirely true, and I’m mostly bullshitting to myself, which is terrible, but I feel this way sometimes. Summer. Blah. Being young and in school, with no solid direction to speak of. It can be frightening.

Sometimes I think of killing myself. It’s always a back up plan. Not so much a plan, because when it happens it’ll be so damn spontaneous and quick that even I won’t be able to predict it. So I guess when I say plan, what I really mean is alternative path. Or, the shortest path. I’ve heard that everyone has the death penalty: we all die. Sometimes procrastinating, putting it off or delaying the inevitable, is a grave form of denial, an indication of a deep neurosis. The only reason that I’d want to stick around, at this point anyway, is to procreate, wreak havoc on conventionality and societal norms, and dominate. And when I say dominate, I mean exert my influence as far and wide as possible, however or whatever is necessary for achieving that end, sheerly as a means of fulfillment.

Everything else is a side show. Little games. Empty gestures and hallow pantomimes. Ugh. I don’t know anymore. Career. Maybe it’s my mind. Maybe it’s my life, the sum of my experiences that have left me utterly disenchanted. Maybe it’s… fate. Maybe my personality. Maybe studying philosophy wasn’t a great idea, maybe I should have chosen a major that stifled the questions, the inquisitive nature.

I’ve drank quite a lot the past two months. It’s starting to take a psychological toll. It’s not the binge drinking, it’s the incessant drinking that’s becoming a problem. Five out of seven days I’ve drank, for the past two months. That’s really not an understatement. And I’m half concerned. Half. Wine. I love that shit. My aunt and uncle drink a fair amount. Who know’s what’s the acceptable level. They aren’t crazy alcoholics, they just enjoy having wine with meals and conversations, and extending the relaxation periods well into the evening. So anyway. I’m rambling.

I want to do more, follow through, blah blah. I’m bitchin. All this will dissipate. All my thoughts seem to do that, only to be replaced and never remembered again. Drunk.