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Sunday, June 28, 2020

Listen to my story. This may be our last chance.

Don't be afraid to start. It's not going to be easy. It will leave you exhausted. Sometimes it will hurt. But start. Slowly, surely, but start. And don't stop. You know what lies at the end of the road. You know how you will feel. You know the rewards.
Don't get distracted. Be at peace. Find your peace. One day at a time. Until you can look at yourself and feel good. You can do this. You've done it so many times before.
Breathe. Just Breathe. Go. No excuses. Start. It's time to begin. Find yourself. Do away with what isn't good for you. And do it for yourself. No one deserves this more than you. Do not think for a moment that what's momentary is in any way, shape or form, good for you.
Don't be afraid of anything, least of all yourself. Dig deep. Find it. It is there. It's always been there. This time things will be different.
Change. Improve. Evolve. Choose. Manage. Adapt. Create. Learn.
What you are is not what you have to be. Own it. You know who you are. Know what you want to be moving forward. Let this be the foreword of your greatest story. Embrace this prelude. Conduct the symphony you want to hear in your life. Let the dreams come true.
You are not beneath them. You are not beneath anything. Go. Go today. Go the day after. Do not stop. Do not stop yourself any longer.
Imagine. See. Know. Understand. Motion is the way. Iter means the way. What is the practical result of stopping yourself? Nothing. Go. Keep going.
Do you you know what awaits you if you do? Everything. You can have everything. And the only thing keeping you from it? You.
Smile, for you begin the road to you. Take the first step. All others will follow. Instant gratification is a lie. Remember how good it feels when you are at your best. Look at what you are now. Idealize what you want to be in the future. There is no one like you at your best. Your prime is unique.
So go. Go. What option is there? Nothing? Or everything, for a change? Do not be afraid. Embrace your path. Iter. Iter is the way. Your way forward.
This is but day one of many, many others. Push past exhaustion, pain, discomfort. Something - however small - is infinitely better than nothing. Move. Act. Go. Be. Now.
Don't just look at the door. Walk right through it. Cross it. It is your threshold to a new day. How many Rubicons have you faced? How many have you crossed? This is no different from before. Forward, now.
Remember this one thing : No one here knows you. That gives you power. You can be the person you want to be - and no one can judge you. The past is no more than a lesson. Learn from it. Don't let it be a weight.
It begins. It begins now. It has already begun. Go and keep going. That's it. As easy as that. Days will become weeks will become months. Lose what you don't need. Find your balance. It takes time and you know this. Don't stress. Slowly. One step at a time. You must do it. You know how good it feels. You do. So feel good. Run. Crunch. Lift, if that's what's needed. I know it hurts. Push past this. Half an hour of something is miles better than doing nothing. It will pass. It will heal. Do not stop. It's never too late. You will always be what you choose to be. Don't be a cliché. It's the first day of the rest of your life.


Saturday, June 27, 2020

The Beach Boys - God Only Knows

I've been thinking a lot these past few days, hence my lack of posting. Having rid myself of all social media, and having finally vented some of my most private thoughts about the state of the world we live in, I wondered whether or not to keep the blog. It wouldn't be the first time - I do have a long list of abandoned blogs out there.
I know I can't change the world. I know that it's not something that can be changed on an individual level. But I think maybe I can help bring something good to the world of those around me. It's true - there's far too much evil in the world. How can I fight this? How can I counter this? Ultimately, it may be only through song, story, recollection and light that I may do this. So if writing here somehow brings some form of solace to any living soul, then I'll be happy for that.

So the gist of this post is something that's been in my mind for many months now, but for some reason I kept on delaying actually writing it. Well, not just for any reason. A few months back I woke up and I was feeling uncharacteristically chipper, and I wanted to spin 'Pet Sounds' before I left for work. I've always enjoyed the Beach Boys - well, at least since 'Cocktail', anyways - and listening to songs like 'Sloop John B' always leaves me happy. Plus, it's got one of my all-time favourite songs there, but I'll write about it further ahead. So I go to my record shelf, start browing it, and to my surprise... no 'Pet Sounds'. It got me thinking that I probably had it in a previous collection and had not yet bought it again. I eventually did get it, but not until a few weeks back, maybe a month or so ago.
In this here record there's something that can hardly be properly explained - a tiny whisper of a song, but enormous in its span, magical in its construction, a work of art among works of art. That song is called 'God Only Knows', a few seconds short of three minutes long, but an absolute monument to perfection. It's one of the few songs that not only always reduces me to tears, but that I can genuinely listen to it for hours on end. And I have two very strong memories regarding this song.
One of them is because it's part of one of my movie guilty pleasures, and I unashamedly and proudly own up to it, that movie being 'Love Actually'. I can't even begin to imagine to how many times I've watched it. It's just one of those movies that I'll always love watching, and whenever it's playing on TV, I am there. And one of the many reasons why I love this movie is because just at the ending, at its perfect ending, this song is played over the final scene. God damn it. I'm not crying, you're crying.
The second memory is rather more heartbreaking - for me at least. I want to say this was in christmas 2007, but it may have been a bit after that, in early 2008. Back then, I posted the video to this song on my facebook page, and my girlfriend at the time - arguably the love of my life - asked me if that post was meant to be for her. And the truth is, it wasn't - I had posted it with my son in mind. And I realized far too late that it could very well be about her as well. I don't think... at the time, I don't think I had it in me to recognize it and to be able to express myself that way. But I could've said yes. I should've said yes.
It was the only answer I should've given. I should have told her so. Who knows how things would have turned out if I had?
God only knows.


Sunday, June 21, 2020

Before the curtains close

A head's up - this will be a long post, I may rant, I may ramble, but I will be brutally honest at all times, and hope to write something important here.
So, in past posts I've mentioned that I have five personal nightmares. One of them - the very first - I came to develop sometime around April 1999, when I first learned that I would have a son. That nightmare - one exacerbated in my imagination when he was a small baby - is that one day I receive a call or a message saying that something happened to my son. You can imagine what exactly. Certainly, watching Nanni Moretti's 'La stanza del figlio', very much about the death of his teenage son, didn't help. That's my nightmare right there. The number one nightmare.
Now, when Ian was born I knew that I'd probably never be in a position to gift him with a life filled with plenty. Oh, he'd have plenty of what mattered, but it would be - hopefully - a fairly mundane life. And what I could certainly give him were the lessons I had to learn on my own, and not because they were born out of example. I could teach him that if he were to judge someone, then do it because of what's in them and not how they look. And I could teach him to always - always - be a good man, because there are plenty of bad men in this world. I hope I taught him well.
This leads me to examine whether or not I am a good man. I think I am, ultimately, but as everyone else, I am flawed, I've made mistakes, I've hurt people, I pulled some stupid stunts in my teens. No matter what I've had done to me - none of that influences me in a detrimental manner.
(It does, in fact, but only in the way that it justifies my destruction of my self.)
But in the very worst moments of my life, the moments where I was at my most broken and at my most broke, maybe I had some selfless deeds that somehow balanced that karmic scale, when I chose to do the right thing instead of the easy thing. In the end - though I am loath to own up to it - I consider myself a decent person. I'd certainly not willingly do anything that would hurt anyone else, nor would I ever abuse someone from any position of power I might have.
These are just things that I can't imagine myself doing. Not even in the most abstract of senses.
And maybe that's because I grew up with an abusive father - me and my brother and my mother were often on the receiving end. And maybe that abuse didn't stop with my father, because I remember being twenty years old and still being abused verbally and physically by my mother. There's a memory I have of being, I don't know, maybe sixteen or seventeen, and I had to scream/sob/cry at my mother and grandmother that I was tired of being abused.

In one of my most recent posts, I talked about some TED videos I'd watched. They impacted me deeply, especially the one with the mother of one of Columbine High's shooters. I've watched it a number of times since then, because I ended up reading up on the shooting itself, and not short afterwards, I was maybe 10 wikipedia pages into serial killers. Before I go on any further, let me plug the great Jon Ronson again, especially that wonderful book of his called 'The Psycopath Test', based on the existence of the real life psycopath test, developed by psychologist Robert D. Hare. Now, this test purports to definitely be able to ascertain whether or not you're a psychopath, and obviously, all of the most famous serial killers rank very high on the test. So for the past few days I've immersed myself in serial killers, its lore, its history. I've seen a considerable amount of videos on police interrogations of people who'd commited terrible crimes, and in these videos all of them are ultimately broken by the interrogation and end up confessing their crimes. And I mean - truly terrible crimes. From the stalking, rape and murder of young women, to the murder and sexual abuse of eight years olds, the amount of atrocities I read up on and watched videos of, it made my stomach turn.
One thing I noticed while reading up on serial killers - U.S. and elsewhere in the world - is that these people come from all walks of life, there are white guys and black guys and women and poor people who want to get rich and poor people who get their fix from killing even poorer people. Female serial killers are mostly a) poisoners, b) motivated by greed and/or avarice, and c) very often their victims are their own family, be it their husbands or their children. Also, there are a lot of nurses killing old people. Now, male serial killers very often are people who a) are at odds with their sexuality, b) do their deeds out of a desire to control or dominate someone and c) their inflated ego makes them the heroes of their own narratives.
And very often, these people are part of a circle of abuse that goes back generations. They were raped as kids by theid fathers, who'd in turn been raped as kids by their fathers, and so and so on until they perpetuate this dark legacy by destroying the lives of so many people - both the victims and their families. So I asked myself where these psychopaths come from, how they're mass produced. How can there be so many of these creatures, predators that would have certainly been more at home in the neanderthal age. I can only think that somehow they're products of a society that places more value on things than on people. That places more value in instant gratification than on the long-term goal. One thing that I found about many of the monsters I read up on is that they've had - at some point or the other - during their lives positions that granted them a measure of power, sometimes even over many people, or indeed, in the case of John Wayne Gacy, over a whole community. In some cases, there's a backgound in the military - something that very much dehumanizes people. In most of the cases, you could see that these people - just by looking at them - are clearly not all there at all. You just look at their expressionless faces, you just look at their dead eyes - and you see that they clearly are not capable of empathy, clearly not capable of feeling an emotion that does not revolve around themselves. And one of the most disturbing things is that they just look like so many people you see every day on the streets, you probably even knew someone at some time or the other that just gave you chills, and you instinctively made your best effort to stay out of their way.
All this makes me wonder. Why are there so many of them? Even now, so very many? Ultimately... and without even taking these creatures into consideration... why are there so many bad men? Why are so many of us bad?

Let me tell you something first, though it's been touched upon elsewhere before : I'm not religious and nor do I adhere to any kind of religious beliefs, dogmas, or superstition. I do not believe in God, in Jesus, in saints, in angels, in heaven, in hell, in devils. I don't believe in any of that. Sometime in 2001 though, I was working in London and I had a co-worker from Louisiana, and he was vey religious. We did have some nice conversations about faith and religion, and I remember him telling me that part of his beliefs was believing in hell, though what he believed hell to be was this here planet we live in - hell on earth. I do know that in some cultures what we perceive as life is actually perceived by those who believed in that particular religion to be their afterlife, so what he told me wasn't actually dissonant with what I knew already. But I don't believe in any of those things.
I do believe in evil, though.
These past few days I've watched dozens of hours of interviews with serial killers, psychopaths, sociopaths, monsters who embody evil. All of them unrepentant, all of them incapable of acknowledging the evil of their actions. I've heard the testimony of mothers who've slaughtered their children just because they wanted to punish their father, I've heard confessions of demons disguised as men who kidnapped, raped, murdered and dismembered little children and who confessed to having planned on eating their bodies. I've heard confessions of young men who've killed their mothers, had sex with their lifeless body, and ate her brain. I've heard words come out of people who looked no different than anyone else I might come across any given street stating that they don't see anything truly wrong with what they did. Sometimes they even smile sadistically. I've listened to a waste of human life posing as a man speaking about how he molested his step-son, time and time again, and his reasoning for these atrocities was that he didn't see the poor boy as a living creature, but rather as a toy, a plaything for him - all because he wasn't his biological son. He saw any and all children he'd molested in this manner. He even made the claim that amidst all the pain, all the suffering, all the indignities he visited upon these children, that this happened because they liked it. Because they liked it. This is evil itself.
Some did these foul things for petty reasons, most did it out of abandon and disregard of the value of a human life, and all of them did it because they're fundamentally wrong in their moral makeup.

So what opposes evil? It has to be good, almost on a cosmic scale. And I want to think that there are far more good, selfless people than there are evil, selfish people. It just feels like the actions of the former are always surpassed by those of the latter. It weighs more on us - on our souls - all these moments of pure evil than those moments of good we do. It's an unfortunate, sad truth.
This moral makeup I mentioned earlier, is it something we're taught and then develop with age and experience? Is it something that we're born with or without? Is it a choice? And what defines moral?
We all know that often those who project an image of being morally upright end up being the worst among us. What can we do be better? How can we set an example to those who cross our lives - kith, kin, colleagues, co-workers, etc.? It would be perhaps best if we understood what creates so many of these bad people, themselves often part of a circle of abuse. I think that men - as a whole - are fascinated by the idea of violence, and they're exposed to it everywhere, in the movies and tv shows they watch, in the cartoons, in the video games they play, in the news, in sports, in their playgrounds, and even in their homes. This infatuation with violence - guns, muscles, explosions, fights, people dying, and so much more - is, in most cases, treated as fiction, fantasy, whatever, and we go on to live mostly quiet lives. But it's true that all these things help to dehumanize and desensitize children to the fundamental value of human life from an early age. That may be one of the reasons why we have many cases of children who kill and torture other children. But maybe that's also where we fail them, in not helping them understand that what we see in those movies or games or shows or whatever not only isn't real, they're also things that do not apply to real life itself.
Maybe what happens is a mix between indiference - let the kids figure out these things for themselves - and encouragement, exposing children to ever more escalating violence. When these things shape our minds, who do we become? Do our sons grow up to be good and kind men, or do they grow up believing that having big muscles and that they can fight anyone (do NOT google Jon Koppenhaver, unless you want to be deeply traumatized) and they end up being men who believe they have power over someone, men who believe that they own everything and everyone and can justify the destruction of a human life with that imagined power? It's tough to say. Because I think that honestly there aren't many great living examples you could show your kids, everyone is tainted somehow. Think about it : how often do you see men resorting to some form of violence as their first instinct? Not reason, not discourse - violence. Because that's what so many of us know, that's what's so deeply ingrained in our psyches. Violence is what we're taught, and never as a last resort, never as a means of defence - but rather as a means of asserting dominance. Strength - in its masculine sense, is something I've always envisioned to be an ideal to strive for, but only for the purpose of defending those who cannot defend themselves, to help the helpless, to give a voice to those who cannot speak for themselves.
Ultimately, society would have to change, and society's perception of masculinity would have to change in order for us to have a better chance of turning kids into better, kinder men. But how can we bring about these changes?

I often think of a society without men altogether. A matriarchy, where children are born via parthenogenesis. Perhaps the world of men is done with, and a world of women would be the answer. But alas, I see no hope in that either. Trust me, I've listened to and researched far too much evil coming from women as well. So we'd have to do this together, build this society together, this utopia where evil does not exist. The metaphysical implications of the nature of evil are interesting. Because if evil is something that we're born with, then we'll never be free of it. It's in us, it's in our very souls. But if evil is a choice, then we can educate and raise our children to be better men and women. Will we ever be able to do this if we don't do away with all the trappings of this society we live in now? Can we create a world without greed, vanity, without the notion that image tops integrity? Can we create a world where a men's worth is measured not by the size of his muscles or his sex but rather of his heart and soul? You can see where I'm going with this. I don't honestly think that this world can be saved, but I increasingly tend to think that this world doesn't deserve to be saved. I think we're beyond redemption.
Let me circle back to my number one nightmare I mentioned earlier. The moment I knew we'd be having a child, I was overjoyed. I think I always wanted to have children. I also knew that as long as I didn't be towards my child what my father was towards me, then I'd have a decent shot at being a good dad. And I also looked to my dear friend Sérgio's father as an example : loving, supportive, understanding, and at all times loyal and protective, he became my gold standard. But I also needed - well, we, me and Dora - to make a choice. Did we want to bring a child into this world? Into a world of violence and uncertainty? Where sick individuals could snuff out such precious lives on a whim? We made a decision born out of love and not out of fear, and so Ian was on his way to join us.
It's a funny thing, but for years afterward, my biggest dream was to have a baby girl, I always thought that Ian would love her unconditionally. That never came to pass, though in a couple of times there were some late periods that for the shortest while held the ghost of that chance. It was a dream that I gave up long ago. I know I'll not be having any more children, not in this life at least. And I'm absolutely sure that I wouldn't want now to bring a child into this world. I'd not condemn another soul to live out the rest of humanity's sad history.

I think the world is changing, though. Not much, not how we'd need to have a future as a species, but a bit. The 'Me too movement', and now the 'Speaking out', an offshoot of that, have made great strides into uncovering, denouncing, and publicly chastising the sociopaths that abuse their position of power in order to gain sexual favour with those who are vulnerable.
(Take into consideration that there are also women being denounced, this is not an exclusively male issue.)
Recently I read on how one of my writing heroes - Warren Ellis - has been under fire because of allegations of sexual misconduct, with a number of women rising up and confirm that they too had suffered the same behaviour from him. These things... man, these things always leave me feeling miserable, because I never expect that someone who I admire would be capable of these things. It also makes me look inward and analyze myself, analyze if I am someone like them or not.
Bad things I've done are mainly stupid, adolescent acts of shoplifting. I've also had crappy jobs where I was less than professional, hoping they'd fire me. I've broken up with a girl via e-mail, many years ago, and though me and Marta have been on good terms for a very long time, I still feel shitty about that. That's the thing, I can't ever forget. Anyone who's crossed my life, who shared close moments with me, they never leave me. Some make me smile, others leave a heavy weight on my heart.
The worst things I've ever done were to one person in particular, under complicated, but not mitigating circumstances, where I cheated on her. This was a profoundly stupid and selfish thing to have done, as there weren't any reasons why I should have ever sought someone else, and me telling you that when it happened I wasn't entirely sure of the status of the relationship - there's just no excuse.
I'd hoped these things would never come to her knowledge, but they did, and when I witnessed the pain I put her through, I decided I'd never do such a thing again. I never did, never will again. No one should go through the misery I put her through, and however much my heart was rent to pieces because I had to witness this person who loved me so much tell me that she could never trust again, it was nothing compared to the pain I saw her going through. Since then, I've had a lot of bad stuff happen to me, relationship-wise, and if this is the universe's way of knowing what that hurt I inflicted felt like, then that's fair and I accept it. I deserve it.

There's a part of me that absolutely believes that I'll spend the rest of my days alone, and I've been learning to make peace with that. I am not now, nor do I think I will ever be, someone who'd be what others may consider ideal, someone who'd be chosen by someone else. That's ok. I have my son and my friends, and I love them deeply. These are the people who live in my heart. And that's what I urge you, in this dark and often awful world, if you have someone you love, let them know. Love them deeply. Love them truly. Look after them, treasure them, nurture them. Fill their days with light and love, always.
I hate that we live in a world so full of violence, so full of suffering. I hate that we live in a world where the weakest and most vulnerable are prey to monsters. I hate that we live in a world where a child can be snatched up from the streets and molested and murdered. I hate that we live in a world where a woman can't do something as simple as walking down a street without fear of being raped or killed, and far more often than it should, something like this happens. I hate that we live in a world where sociopaths can whisk away some trusting youth from the streets and then kill them, dismember them, molest their corpses, and there's no hell in creation that could punish them enough.
I hate this so much, because all I want is a world where we're never afraid, and truly free, and live with nothing but hope and love in our hearts. And I don't know that I can survive this world much longer.

Smile when you think of me.


Wednesday, June 17, 2020

Away, you wretched world of tethers

I have the kind of brain that never ever turns off. And one of the consequuences of that is that very often, like tonight, I'll overthink something so much that I just can't get to sleep. I've been mulling something over - it's not major, I don't think - but it was enough to lodge itself in my brain and grab hold of me. Like so many, I've been working remotely from home, and while for some it may be a good thing, it may be a blessing.... it's not for me. There are many reasons why, none of which I wish to go into here, not right now, maybe not ever. But it's been really not good for me. It's not helped me at all, not one bit. I have a good friend, Carla - she's a psychologist. I think it was her who told me, a long time ago, that if I remain in the place that made me ill in the first place, I'd never fully heal. I have no other choice, though.
So today I was talking with the higher-ups at work - people for whom I have a lot of respect, and who've always been kind to me - and there was a thing there... I'd made a tactical decision of not logging in to Skype at work because I'd never get anything done otherwise. And I was asked to start logging in from now on. Fair enough. It's not a big deal, I can set my state to 'do not disturb' or whatever.
I was also told that because I wasn't logged in, they'd not really know if I was working or on holiday. It was nothing, we all laughed about it, but on the inside I was telling myself 'I'm not on holiday, I'm in hell'. And I wanted to say that, I wanted to tell them how my mind's been deteriorating, I wanted to tell them how destroyed I feel. I think I already knew this on some level, but I realized I couldn't discuss my mental health with my employers because ultimately... I'm just another cog in the great machine, and when a cog goes bad, you can easily replace it. So I force a smile, I throw a laugh.
I'm dying inside, but I mustn't let it show.

I've been trying to get better, and a few weeks ago I actually had like a good week and a half, where I did some 10k strolls, I ate better, no junk food, nor fizzy drinks, until the day I went shopping and it was hot and I decided I deserved a cold beer and that turned into a six-pack, a bag of chips and a bottle of coke. I failed myself once more.
I have a vision of me - this ideal vision of a me where I feel really good with myself, and that's the me that existed until 2016. I've been trying to get this guy back, I know what can be in store for him. I just don't know how... not anymore.

These thoughts always bring to my mind this amazing poem by Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib :

When I Say That Loving Me Is Kind Of Like Being A Chicago Bulls Fan

what I mean is that my father can tell a bunch of cool stories about back in the day when I was truly great. there is a mountain of gold that has gathered dust in the corner where I used to sleep, and look at all of these pictures. in this one, I am wearing rainbow shorts and hurling rocks at a shoreline. in this one, I am smiling in the glow of 13 lit candles pushed into a sheet of dark sugar. you may ask why I allow my face to drown in less and less joy with each passing year and I will say I just woke up one day and I was a still photo in everyone else’s home but my own. or I will say I promise that my legs just need another season, and then I will be who you fell in love with again. and then I will probably just say I’m sorry that there was once a tremendous blue sky and then a decade of hard, incessant rain.

Tuesday, June 16, 2020

We have to go back : the great 'Lost' rewatch

So a while ago I did this decade's big 'Lost' rewatch. I'd been meaning to get round to doing it for a while now, but those first few weeks of lockdown, filled with so many sleepless nights, proved to be ideal for this undertaking. It should be said that 'Lost' is quite probably my all-time favourite series, I think it's probably the greatest show ever made, but truth be told I'm not big on watching TV, really. Sometimes I do it, but it's quite rare that I watch anything bar reality shows like 'Pawn Stars' or 'American Pickers'. Hey, it's something that's fun to watch, not very taxing on the brain, and so yeah - if and when I do turn on the TV, that's what I watch. Also 'Modern Family' and 'Brooklyn 99' re-runs.
This, together with 'Six Feet Under' and maybe most of 'Battlestar Galactica' are shows that I absolutely love and return to every now and again.
I began in earnest, devouring season one in a couple of days, maybe. As that season wound to a close, I started anticipating things that I knew were coming, but don't ask me why - sometimes it felt like I was watching some bits I'd never seen before, and every now and then there'd be a scene that I remembered in a particular way, and it played out way different. There's a scene in season three, if I remember right, that involves both Sawyer and Kate, and I remembered Jack being there as well. It turns out he wasn't. And I also remember absolutely hating every single scene Nikki and Paulo were in, because there didn't see much reason for them to be there except for eye candy, and because I kind of remembered there being an inordinate amount of scenes they were in, but... not really. They're not absolutely essential to the overall story, but nor are they detrimental to it. And they were in far fewer scenes than I actually remembered. I also remember Keamy's presence on the island to be far more comprehensive and even agressive - there are a number of scenes I thought I remembered, but they also didn't happen at all. I also seem to remember - somewhere in the first couple of seasons, maybe - there being a wee while where Sawyer had kind of short hair, but a couple of episodes later he had his trademark long hair again? And this is true - I remember an episode largely dedicated to Matthew Abaddon, and guess what? Never happened!
But back to the show itself... man, what to say? First off, that ensemble cast is amazing. I'll even own up to the fact that I've had a huge man-crush on Matthew Fox since his 'Party of Five' days. Jack - his character - is one I'll always love, it is just that good. But standouts - even moreso this time round - were Sawyer and Hurley - polar opposites of each other, physically and in terms of character, but they delived their roles with such gravitas that they tend to command your attention. Kate - I love Evangeline Lilly to death - is such an amazing character. In fact, I'd even go so far as to say that she's probably the most human character in the show, the most honest. The female ensemble is just to powerful, really. Sun, Claire, Rose, Charlotte, Penny - and Juliet.
Ah, Juliet. Now, if I'm honest she got to me a little bit on my first time watching 'Lost'. And that was because - not to spoil anything to those who may have not seen it yet - she was not a very... hmmm... kind character to some of my favourites, at least not to being with, It wouldn't be until season 5 - oh oh oh, what a season that was! - that Juliet began endearing herself to me. Watching her character arc unfold with a different perspective truly helped me gain more insight into her role. The same thing also happened with Ben - I hated Ben, I truly despised Ben. Now I loved him - though he was a deeply flawed and spiteful character, he's played with such gusto on screen that I couldn't help but relish his presence whenever he came in.
The show is infamous for its ending, some - like me - loved it, others hated it, and some just didn't get it. I remember the first time I watched the ending, I had to do it again immediately afterwards because I wanted to see if I had taken the right cues from the story, and to see if I'd gotten it. I did, but  watching it again - I seem to remember some things that didn't happen at all. Ah, memory, you fickle thing.
All this hastened my decision to order Mondo's release of the 'We have to go back' concert held in Dublin. Michael Giacchino's score to 'Lost' is an outstanding work of genius that is truly integral to the show itself. I daresay that no other show ever had music such as this, so deeply impactful and so deeply felt in the very mood of the show. From the music surrounding the iconic 'Lost' logo to the incidental music and theme to the Smoke Monster, it's absolutely so ingrained, like it becomes a character unto itself. When the audio was first uploaded to Youtube some months ago, I was listening to it regularly. And when Mondo announced this release... yeah, it became one of my most wanted records. The huge problem is that they're based in the US, and they ship from there, so there are always some taxes that could be levied, what with customs and whatnot. I took the plunge and ordered it anyway, and to my eternal surprise - this is my second straight order from the US that doesn't come with additional charges to be paid.
I leave you with a snippet of one of the most beautiful songs there, as well as some pics from the whole package itself, including the records and booklet. - apparently, no I don't. Blogger isn't uploading my videos and I can't seem to properly set up the pictures so that they don't seem like Edward Scissorhands himself tried to have a go at it. Ah well, so much for that.

Monday, June 15, 2020

Armistice

Memory really is a funny thing. I'm pretty sure I've written a bit about what comes next, I was pretty sure I'd even written about it on this blog, but I can't, for the life of me, find any traces of it. It has to do with my own personal nightmares, of which I have five. No one who knows me knows the full list, even those who know me best only know a few of these nightmares that haunt me. One of them has to do with loneliness, or more to the point, it has to do with solitude and dying alone. I'm not afraid of dying. But I am afraid of dying alone. This may be true for everyone, I suppose, but I can only speak for myself.
I'm not being completely honest here. My nightmare involves specific circumstances, those being that I somehow screwed up my life so bad that I die alone in some street somewhere, poor, hungry, defeated. That's a thought that hounds me.

I'm trying to write a bit about my mental health, but it's never easy. It's never easy.
When I was a kid, my parents were worried that I didn't have friends, that I didn't get along with other kids, and that I'd rather be reading something than making friends, I guess. So they took me to see a psychiatrist and he put me through a number of tests - including an IQ test - to see if something was wrong with me or not. Bear in mind that this was in the early 80's. So that amounted to pretty much nothing except the suggestion that I might benefit from a more challenging environment, and there was the ghost of a chance that I might attend some sort of school for gifted youngsters. Not Xavier's, though my CV says that I did, and I've only been close to being caught on that particular white lie the once.
So that never played out, and I had a more or less stable childhood, though as my adolescence set in I started having some therapy sessions. I went through a very rough patch a few years before my parents split up - we all did, truth be told. But I was... jesus, I was insufferable, and I pulled some stupid stunts and eventually my father laid into me - I can still vividly remember him punching me hard in the face right where I'm sitting typing this. I was 11 or 12, maybe. Therapy came short afterwards, and though I really didn't think it helped much, I at least acknowledged why it was necessary.

As I grew out of that phase and settled into adolescence, I'd be on the down low for a while. When I was 17, I decided to quit school and join the Air Force. Six months into that, I got hospitalized with a respiratory infection and that brought me down quite a bit. I was bedridden for a few days, I had to spend my birthday alone, and I was crying all the time. One day I was visited by the resident psychiatrist and he talked to me for a bit. He then told me that I had a depression. And believe me, this is something that they take seriously, because the last thing anyone there wants is for someone who's depressed, maybe suicidal, and has access to guns to be on duty. And I thought to myself that it couldn't be possible, I thought that only the weak willed have depressions, and that I'd have to man up. Stupid shit like that. Never even gave it a second thought.
In 2000 I moved to England for the first time, and pretty much nothing went right for me while I was there. In fact, more often than not I was miserable - I missed my family, my son, my girlfriend, my cats, my friends. And to top it all off, I was living with a couple who I was friends with, and though me and Carla got along famously, her idiot husband I just couldn't stand. You know how someone can ruin your day just by looking at you funny? He's that kind of guy. So what did I do to cope? I started working double shifts, 15 hours a day. That meant starting work at just before 7 a.m. and often leaving way past 10 p.m., all so I could spend as little time near the guy as I could.
And, of course, after maybe a couple of months of doing this, I broke down, hard. My manager - a guy who to this day I sincerely cannot stand - took me to the hospital, and yeah - I'd had a breakdown. These would be my first experiences with medication, and none of it was particularly good for me. I eventually stopped medication altogether, and after I returned home I managed to keep myself afloat for a number of years, some small crises notwithstanding. It would be a few years until I'd have the breakdown that nearly finished me.
But one thing I do have to say in all this, and that is I've never really entertained any notions about killing myself. I mean, at my worst I felt utterly defeated, destroyed, abandoned, alone, miserable, apathetic, unable to cope with most anything. I felt more like a living dead person than a real live one.

Though this has changed a lot recently. Especially with lockdown, my mind has wandered down those dark, treacherous alleys. And I always seem to be stuck in the same point, where I can't find a viable way to do it without deeply scarring someone. If I throw myself under the bus, well, that's a busload of people, plus the driver, plus the witnesses. Ditto for trains or subways. If I shoot myself (not that I have a gun, but still...) or hang myself, it'll either be my family or some poor soul if I do it somewhere else. The same goes for OD'ing on pills. I don't think I could ever slit my wrists. The only way I sort of could see this working would be going into the sea, and let it carry me far away... but the anguish that would cause on my family and loved ones... and eventually I'd turn up, a half-eaten, bloated abomination, barely recognizable. There's just no good way. Also, and because I'm severely allergic to pain, I could never do it in a way that I'd prolong my agony. So no throwing myself into a fire, or into a wood chipper. I don't think that jumping from a really high place would be in the cards as well - who knows if I want to change my mind on my way down? No, the ideal solution would be something instantaneous. Like when you see in the sci-fi movies and the aliens zap someone and bam! - they're just gone. It takes like half a second, at best, and it's like you were never there.

Also, the reason I'm writing about all this is because this morning, around 3 a.m. or so, I was replying to a few e-mails from my friends, and I realized that I have an unfinished and unsent e-mail to my dear friend Sérgio from over a year ago, and that particular e-mail delves into yet another of my nightmares. I remember deciding not sending it then, when it was written, because a part of me didn't want to bother him. And yes - I know that I can talk to him, and to my other friends - few as they may be - about my mental health issues, but there's always this underlying feeling of not wanting to bother someone with these matters. There are voices inside my head that tell me many things, that tell me many lies. One of them is that no one cares, not really. Another tells me not to be even more of a burden. And so I keep so, so very much to myself, just because of that. But it'd be remiss of me if I didn't admit that my overall mental health has declined these past few months. It's not just the erratic sleep schedules, or letting myself go even further... it's not just the apathy I feel encroach upon me, it's not just the loss of patience for pretty much everything. It's how now I think about suicide so much more often than before. I'm not - at least I think I'm not - anywhere near suicidal, but I have never felt as tired as I do now. So on the verge of accepting erasure from existence, if such a thing could be done in a non-traumatic way.

A few years ago, my favourite author of all time - Terry Pratchett - died voluntarily in Switzerland. It was his choice, he'd been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's, and he didn't want to stick around to see his mind so deteriorated that he wouldn't be able to recognize anything. There was a documentary he was in about the freedom of being able to choose when and how you die, with your dignity intact. In it, we actually see an elderly gentleman taking his steps beyond this mortal coil. He drank a special liquid, shortly thereafter he closed his eyes, as if sound asleep, and just drifted off. This touched me so much that I cried my heart out. I thought this solution so elegant and efficient. I also knew that, obviously, this would be something off-limits to me, because I could never afford this option.
Here's the thing : I ultimately want to live, and live a happy life. But I am not happy. I'm actually not unhappy either, at least not most of the times, but I'm fairly indifferent to the idea of being alive. There's a deep-rooted belief in me that I will die alone, that I'll never know happiness again, like I once knew. And maybe, maybe that's true, or maybe someday I pull myself off of this funk and things change. But as long as I can keep on surviving myself, day after day, then I'll be here.
But believe it or not, these thoughts have been so prevalent in me these past few months that as far as a couple of days ago I was still searching online for answers on how to kill oneself with the least amount of trauma to anyone possible. Naturally, such a thing does not exist - or so Quora assures me.
(A really good thing is that as soon as you type in something that revolves around suicide you get loads of links to suicide prevention sites and lines.)
As I was doing my research on this, I came across two videos that tore my heart in twain - one is by Sue Klebold, mother to one of the Columbine High School shooters - where she discusses how her son's mental health and the lack of understanding and acknowledgement thereof may have contributed to the tragic outcome that destroyed so many lives, hers included. See it here, it's part of a series of TEDtalks. That led me to catching another TED video, this one by Steph Slack, where she discusses the absurdly high rate of male suicide, and how society's expectations of what masculinity must be leads to such numbers.
It's always very sobering for me when I'm confronted by these stories. I soak it all in, take a deep breath and try to put everything into perspective. I can count myself blessed for many things, though in my darkest moments I feel anything but blessed.
I've long learned to take this day by day, one victory at a time.

Thursday, June 11, 2020

A moment of clarity

Not wanting to retread on what I recently pontificated about here, but still kind of wanting to touch upon something I wrote about, I found myself thinking about social media.
Now, my first exposure to social media was through the Fotolog platform - I'm not sure if it even still exists or not, if it does I do need to get back there and delete my account as well. As far as I could gather, it was one of a number of platforms that was dedicated to the uploading of pictures, with some degree of interaction between you and your followers. I might've made a dozen posts or so before I abandoned it. But through that platform I did get to meet someone who became my girlfriend for a very short time - Susan.
I'm not entirely sure about this, but I do think that the same guy who introduced me to Fotolog was the same guy who introduced me to Hi5, a guy I worked with. This would have been in late 2004, if I'm not mistaken, and that platform I did enjoy for a good while. If i'm honest, the online presence I had on Facebook was very similar to the one I had there, where about 99% of my posts were music videos. I interacted with a number of people there, and what's funny is that it was perhaps the only social media account I had where I in fact knew personally most everyone on my friends list.
What I very early came to realize about Hi5 was just how much of a hook-up central it could be - this was particularly true about any other platform of the kind - because hey, you were only one DM away from trying your luck. I might have been guilty of this.
Of course, as soon as Facebook came along and really exploded - I still remember the message on their login screen stating that they now had over one million registered users - I migrated there. Others came along - Twitter I had and never got its appeal, MySpace was super fun for a good long while, but now that I think on it, most pages were eyesores and eventually they enabled the option to play a song of your choice as soon as the page loaded, and that was annoying as hell.
But Facebook, I started my account there in 2006 and only recently deleted it - it's not deactivated, it's been deleted - and I'd been hating it for year now. Not because of the platform per se, but because of its effects it was having on society - Instagram was to blame as well.

What I was seeing was that increasingly there'd be a number - an even larger number in time - acting like whatever it was their thing actually made them better than everyone else. Like, see all these places I travel to? You're never gonna do that. See all this amazing food I eat? Keep dreaming, son. See all these amazing celebrities I hang out with? Walk on home, boy.
Every single fucking thing was a reason to justify an unwarranted sense of superiority. A constant state of one-upmanship, like if we didn't compete with these people we don't know from anywhere at all, like if we didn't fake our lives to make them seem extraordinary, like if we didn't somehow try to get that extra bit of attention we all seem to crave, we weren't good enough, and whatever the scale our souls are measured on when we die, if we didn't try just as hard as all the others did, we wouldn't qualify for our place in glorious Valhalla among all these fabled heroes, all these keyboard warriors, all these influencers and instagrammers and youtubers whose life was so much more meaningful than your own.
Was I guilty of this crime? Of course I was, in a sense I was. When I finally decided to start paying attention to my Instagram - moreso than I did - it was because I wanted to showcase my record collection. I was influenced, of course, by a number of people I followed whose collections I greatly admired - and, yes, coveted - and that led me to start posting a snippet of a song almost on a daily basis. Also, I started to post an Instagram story every day from a certain point on. I'll admit that my first intentions were pure - I really did want to focus on the music only. Then things started to change a bit. I started worrying about which angle was the best for me to shoot the videos. And then I started to worry about the logistics of my set-up. I went through a few variations until I hit that one quasi perfect choice, good enough to leave me almost a 100% pleased with what I was doing.
My videos weren't tremendously popular - I had something like 1200 followers, and I garnered the most reactions from the same-ish group almost every day. And very few of my post actually passed the 100+ likes mark. It got to a point where I'd post a song I loved, and I'd think that this one would be a guaranteed sure fire hit, only to net some 70 likes or so. These always left me devastated. Why couldn't people see how amazing this song was? Honestly, I valued a like more than a comment - those I could rarely muster the energy to reply to. And posting a story, I had this compulsive need to see how many people had seen it, and who had seen it, and I eventually decided to only check that info every few hours or so, as a sort of reward to myself. Some great reward, eh?

Can you see why all this is wrong? Can you understand why all this happens? I'm going to extrapolate a bit here, and project my reasons on all of us. I don't think I'll be too off the mark, really.
We do all these things because we're lonely. And it may even be that in some cases we're not alone, but we're lonely for sure. I know I am. I'm both alone and lonely. For my part, it's mostly a choice, mostly a way to protect myself. See, I do miss having someone in my life, I do miss the conversations and the quiet moments, I do miss walking hand in hand and those looks people exchange when they're in love, when they look deep in each other's eyes and just smile, because no words need be said. I miss sex and I miss feeling completely spent, my naked body clinging to hers.
But I don't miss any of the other stuff. I don't miss the fights or the silences that cut more deeply than any word ever could. I don't miss feeling afraid to touch someone, because I no longer know if my touch is welcomed or not. I don't miss the death of an intimacy that used to be bigger than the universe. I don't miss the physical distance between two bodies, the distance between us when we walk down the street, the distance between us when we go to bed together - like there's an invisible wall of pain and hurt and misery and heart-rending sorrow between us that makes it like we can't even talk anymore.
I don't miss any of that. And for me, at least in this moment in space and time, the bad far outweighs the good, and I'd rather be alone.
So of course I felt lonely, of course I felt tempted to get all this artificial attention and validation, of course it all amounted to so very little.
Love, attention, devotion, caring, respect, trust - all this has been traded in for a new currency that has no more substance than a dead man's breath : Likes.

I've seen this many times all over on social media, but it always gets me how people seem to miss the point that we can still actively fight and avoid the kind of future George Orwell outlined in his seminal '1984' novel.
There's a bit there - I had to do some research here because my memory can be tricky - regarding Newspeak that's absolutely relatable not only to our present day, but to the 'like' culture we follow. Read on :

'Don't you see that the whole aim of Newspeak is to narrow the range of thought? In the end we shall make thought-crime literally impossible, because there will be no words in which to express it. Every concept that can ever be needed will be expressed by exactly one word, with its meaning rigidly defined and all its subsidiary meanings rubbed out and forgotten. . . The process will still be continuing long after you and I are dead. Every year fewer and fewer words, and the range of consciousness always a little smaller. Even now, of course, there's no reason or excuse for commiting thought-crime. It's merely a question of self-discipline, reality-control. But in the end there won't be any need even for that. . . . Has it ever occcured to you, Winston, that by the year 2050, at the very latest, not a single human being will be alive who could understand such a conversation as we are having now?'

Of this passage, I highlight this line : 'Every concept that can ever be needed will be expressed by exactly one word, with its meaning rigidly defined and all its subsidiary meanings rubbed out and forgotten.' Do you see how this has come to pass already? What other gesture is done in our modern lives more than the 'like'? You could easly do it hundreds and hundres of times day without a second thought. It's become second nature, really.
'Like'. 'Share'. 'Repost'. Meaningless words that somehow contain multitudes of meaning.

My decision to do away with all my social media wasn't as easy as you can imagine.
My first decision was to temporarily deactivate them - something I did somewhat frequently in the past, but always felt the temptation to come back.
I had to ponder the effect it would have in my life, what with the loss of instant gratification posting something could bring me. Was I going to be able to deal with it? Honestly, I don't know yet. As I said, I've been known to deactivate my accounts every now and then in the past, and I always returned. I have this option, I can return, only not with my old accounts. The question is, do I want to rebuild all those conenctions again? And do I want to expose myself to things that more often than not made me feel unhappy? Not... not really, no. I think I'm happy enough with just the blog, as it is. It's a much more closed thing, I know that those who really matter to me come here, I know that words are read and appreciated, and that's enough. Who and what and how I'll be moving forward without any social media presence - I truly don't count a blog that has 10-20 hits a day as a visible presence - is both a daunting and interesting prospect. I do think that in the long run it'll be much healthier for me in regards to my mental health, and hopefully that'll translate itself to an improved physical health as well.

I'm quoting the great Jon Ronson here : 'The great thing about social media was how it gave a voice to voiceless people. But we're now creating a surveillance society where the smartest way to survive is to go back to being voiceless.'
While not being entirely voiceless, as my recent rants so aptly illustrate, perhaps now I've found a way to write without feeling miserable all the time.
So, no pressure here, no alarms, and no surprises.

Wednesday, June 10, 2020

The world we live in and what I'm doing to change it

'The world we live in and what I'm doing to change it'...
The long and short of it? Nothing, really. Like 99.99% of us, I live my life under the illusion that we are immortal, we are forever, and that miracles do happen and somehow we'll be saved. I still consume far too much plastic, I still leave far too big an ecological footprint, I still contribute far too much to what's wrong with the world. I admit I do like my coca-colas, my sodas, my beers, my junk food. All of these are things that are not only detrimental to me healthwise, they're also detrimental to the planet itself. Insofar as I may call people sheep, I number myself among them.
So what can I do to change? Well, for one - though not being a vegan or anything of the sort - I rarely eat meat these days. Fish even less, never been a huge fan. But my dairy consumption is big - I eat cheese and yoghurts and I use milk for my cereal and shakes. Can that be reduced? Absolutely, it must. Many things must change with what I do and how I live my life, if only to be able to be a bit healthier. Maybe what I do makes a difference. Maybe it doesn't.
It won't, really.
There's a sad reality that we can't truly come to acknowledge that is climate change, though some scholars and scientists increasingly refer to it as climate tragedy. It's this climate change, above all, that hastens our doom, our march to oblivion. It would take a tremendous shift on a societal level for this to change, but that's not going to happen. My last post outlined some of my reasons why I think this way.

One thing that always bothered me about myself was my refusal, for many, many years to not only finish high school, but to get a degree of some kind. For a number of reasons, after I left school to join the Air Force, my education never became a priority to me, mainly because I though myself far more intelligent than people I knew who were in college, and because I was a well-read person, because I thought that me reading John Milton's 'Paradise Lost' when I was in the 9th grade meant more than studying a stuffy old school book. I deemed myself more intelligent, but alas - I just wasn't smart enough, not even to know the difference between 'smart' and 'intelligent'. And one of the things that I always thought I lacked - a certain kind of focus - is also something that I've also envisioned further learning could hone. I know how my mind works, and it's always been a chaotic jumble, it's never had the sort of mental organization and acuity I recognize in those who pursued that higher education. A part of me always thought that you can truly develop a keener mind when you follow that path, and my willingness to remain dull in that respect always galled me.
This doesn't make me stupid, though. Yes, I believe that higher learning can help you develop how you think, but I don't necessarily agree that it does teach you the right things to think. Like all things in life, it can always be skewed one way or the other.
I do a lot of thinking on my own, rarely sharing my insights my anyone - neither in person nor online. Maybe that needs to change too.
I've been reading a lot lately about societal collapse, and how much of that will be directly caused by the climate tragedy we're (mostly) silently going through. I put my best predictions for our survival to be no more than 50 years - I'm thinking now we'll not have that long.

Look, for things to change so much that we actually have a shot at surviving this calamity one of three things need to happen very, very fast :

a) There's a societal upheaval, on a worldwide level, where we all make a concerted change, and we do away with pretty much everything that we have in our modern lives, and we somehow create a global community that stops being dependent on fossil fuels, that prioritizes grassroots living, that works together to educate, heal and evolve. The odds of any of that happening? Pretty much slim to none.

b) We actually have a massive technological paradigm shift where we actually develop safe technologies to take care of many of our problems that plague us globally - waste management, cleaner water, the preservation of ecosystems, the reduction of CO2 emissions, etc. Do I believe these things can be developed? Yes. Do I believe that they can be developed in time to give us that fighting chance? No.

c) Even unlikelier than any of these is that we somehow develop spacefaring capabilities that would allow us to leave the planet en masse and find home elsewhere in the vast universe. But how could we accomplish this when we're still so reliant on fossil fuels? We'd need a faster than light drive to take us somewhere far from here in time enough for everyone to be still alive when we settled on a new world. But that would also mean that we'd have to have developed a viable form of zero point energy by then. And we'd have to build a large number of very large spaceships in order to get a decent amount of people away from here, and we'd somehow have to develop some sort of cryostasis, and an AI dependable enough to guide us while we slept, not to mention the logistics of keeping people fed and with some form of constantly renewable water system to keep us from dying from dehydration, among so many other things that we'd have to contemplate. Oh, and we'd have to have deep-space scanning built in and some way to plot navigation through the cosmos, because what good would it be all this if we travelled inside the heart of a star? And though we may all be partial to some sort of adherence to the anthropic principle, well, things like the Fermi Paradox and the Drake Equation sort of leaves things looking a bit hopeless, because when push comes to shove, we're an anomaly in the universe, glorified outliers who managed to starve themselves into extinction. This is it. This is all we've got. This is our one shot. We've squandered it.

I might, of course, be wrong in all my assumptions - but I don't think I am. I've been doing my reading, been doing my research. I highly recommend reading Professor Jem Bendell's papers on climate change and what we can do and how we can adapt - see here and here - as well as J.A. Screen and C. Deser's paper on the emergence of an ice-free arctic ocean as early as 2030 here.
We think things are bad now - we can´t even begin to imagine how bad they'll be soon enough. As these papers so grimly state, cascading effects of widespread and repeated harvest failures will cause famine on a global level. Not very far from now, there'll be such a scarcity of resources available which will mean that there'll be lines and lines of people waiting to be fed a few morsels. There'll be looting and there'll be killings and there'll be people dying of hunger in untold numbers. Truth be told? All of this is already happening in parts of the world - perhaps in more parts than we care to admit.
Why does this all happen? Well, ultimately... because of us. We think that the Gretas and the Extinction/Rebellion movements can save us. No. No, they can't. Theirs is a false call to arms, theirs is the path that enables our demise.
Why? Because their idea of revolution is getting politicians and corporations to enforce stricter laws and to legislate more expensive fines for those who profit from human misery. Their idea of revolution is protests. Somewhere in the world there is a room with many many screens where these captains of industry and bankers and generals are watching these protests, sipping from whiskeys that are more expensive than the minimum wage, puffing on their cuban cigars, and laughing their asses off because while they make a buck from our suffering, all we can do is protest how unfair everything is. Sigh. We really do play into their hands, don't we?

I wish I could see any glimmer of hope. I really do. Because if we acted now, right now, we could still make a difference. But we won't... we don't want to. We're all of us keyboard warriors and slacktivists, enablers of human exploitation. Things are going to get bad soon. Much worse than we can imagine. And none of us will survive this because we chose to comply and obey and be subject to the whims of tyrants.
We'd have to do this together - all of us, together - to get to the point where we may survive. But we won't. Some of us, individually may choose to retire from society altogether in order to spend what time we have left trying to make as a clean a living as we can. An admirable pursuit, to be sure, and one that might even be in the cards for me. Somewhere there might yet be a place untainted or abandoned to which I could retire to. It'll all be far too little, and far too late. Because we could all have a finer world.
I can only wish that you stay safe, and stay strong.
As for me.. well. I'll be healing myself, and taking care of my health, and in the meantime I'll be doing some regular posts about music and whatever else might cross my mind.
Down we go together, my friends. Down we go.

Saturday, June 6, 2020

Think for yourself and question authority

When I was a young boy, I didn't have many friends, and that reality lent itself to me finding solace elsewhere, mainly in books, but not only. Cartoons, toys, comics, videogames, movies, tv shows - any sort of escapism that allowed me to construct a haven of sorts for myself, from everything in my life - both internal and external - that caused me to shy away from human interaction.
It was, in fact, science fiction and fantasy that were some of the earliest forms of this escapism I talk about, sci-fi moreso in my younger years. Bearing that in mind, I envisioned a 2020 full of hope and promise, not the post nuclear dystopia for us, but rather that of a world where hunger and disease had been erradicated, where peace and progress coexisted happily side by side, and a humanity that united had journeyed to the stars and beyond, taking our legacy far beyond this earth we call home.
I guess I started losing hope of any of this ever coming to pass still in the early 90's. I can't now remember for sure what might have triggered this, but it was this realization that things weren't changing, weren't evolving, and I wasn't sure why. I'd eventually devote time and thought to these matters, to the understanding of why we couldn't get past this rut, why we couldn't get to that future I dreamed of. With time I came to witness any number of social struggles rising to the forefront, protests, riots, marches. All these wonderful displays of nothingness. And then I understood that we don't change because we don't want to. We - as a society, both as a whole and as individuals - can't get past the paradigms that divide us. We impose divisions on ourselves based on race, religion, sexuality, gender, and god knows what else. And ultimately we never remember that, above all, we're one simple thing : we're people. We are the people.

It's now 2020, and my most optimistic predictions put us on a course for extinction in the next 50 years. There's not much we can do to avoid that, unless some drastic changes occur - though change isn't something that's wanted, not when our idea of freedom is based on which hand wields the whip. More on this a bit further ahead. We live in a broken world, made broken by those who can still make a profit off of human suffering - and while they can, they will milk us dry.
'They' - god, I sound like a fucking conspiracy theorist. But in this instance? They're not wrong.
One of the lies that we are fed on a very early age is that of 'Democracy', but really, none of us ever knew what that was. We've known kleptocracies, timocracies, oligarchies, autocracies, but they're all words for the same thing : tyranny. We believe that the rights that we had to fight for are important. Why did we have to give them up in the first place? Because all we've ever known is the whip. We submitted to it, milennia ago, because we were always told that someone else was better than us. Smarter than us. More fit to rule than us. More able to protect us than, well, us. And why? Why did we allow this? Why is it, that to this day, that a seven billion people army is cowed into inaction and fear and despair because of the whims of the oligarchs that control our fates? 

We can't evolve, we can't break the chains, because we've never ever known true freedom. Because we are too stupid to stop fighting the wrong fights. See, we're slaves to economic systems and the political class exists as an extension of those systems. Understand - they are not the people, they are not of the people, they are not from the people, they are not for the people, they are a class unto themselves, closer to Olympus than to the midden heap. None of them - NONE - in any circumstance is your friend nor are they trying to better your lives. If you think the few crumbs that are tossed your away - a poor education system, healthcare that's always one step away from the edge of crumbling, minimum wages that can't even guarantee you a dignified live - are worth everything else they do to you, man... you're part of the problem. Again, if your idea of freedom is waiting for the left hand to be more lenient than the right, have I got bad news for you.
The truth is, though - you won't get this, nor will you even care. Because you're proud of your labels, you're proud of your beliefs, you're proud of being part of the longest con known to man. You'll still enable these thieves and murderers, thinking that they've got your best interests in mind. And yet they fail you every single time. They always have. All these systems we've known? They've always failed us. Except in enslaving us, that they suceeded quite well.

So well, in fact, that we do as we're told, like the docile, domesticated sheep we are. Oh boy, 'sheep'.
A few days back everyone decided to post a black square denoting some kind of support for movements that, yes, enable our oppression. This was us being told to jump, and we replied 'how high?'.
Sad... but true. What did this change? Nothing. What will this change? Nothing. Hashtags? Oh man.
It's the very definition of lunacy, to keep on doing the same things all the time and expecting different results. 
No change will ever happen until we tear down civilization to its most basic state, and rebuild anew, tabula rasa. All the towers must be razed, all the powers must be destroyed - there is only us, we, the people. But who'd want that? Who'd want so profound a change when we'd probably have to sacrifice so much of our modern way of living in order to build and grow and evolve? Would you trade airplane flights for cleaner water? Would you trade high speed internet for food that contains no chemicals? Would you trade your dreary desk job that barely pays you enough to survive for a life spent tilling the earth? Would you trade your bank accounts, your gym memberships, your social media accounts for a finer world? No, I don't think you would.
You are in love with the status quo, because the status quo allows you to think that by posting a black square on instagram you made a difference. So you pat yourself on the back, maybe use a couple of hashtags denoting how progressive you are, you feel smug because you've changed the world, you change your facebook profile picture to show just how involved you are, and hey - they say jump, and you say?

I made a mistake of making a post where I told those who followed me to lay the blame on us - not the cops, not the politicians, not the military industrial complex, but us - we, the people. It's we who tolerate that these things happen. It's we who allow these people to be and to remain in office, though they wage wars on us. It's we who enable these systems by obeying. 
And I got told that I was wrong, everything I said was wrong, and that by calling the people 'sheep' I was a fascist. Didn't I think that black lives matter? Of course I do, but then I believe that all lives mattered. I'm a fascist because of that. Maybe my definition of 'all' is different, but I deem it to be all inclusive. What do I know? I'm a fascist, because of course I must be.
During the next couple of days I saw that a number of posts with these accusations levied against me were rising up, more and more. I saw any number of people being called fascists if they somehow had a different opinion. And I'm not talking about hate speech here, it's more like if you don't agree 100% with what you're being told, then you're a fascist. And this genuinely scares me. These are the people that will one day rule the world, and whose intolerance will breed the new gulags, the new ghettos, the new concentration camps. I actually fear them more than I do fascists - those idiots I can see a mile away. 

So me, at my most nihilist, at my most anarchist - I'm called a fascist. No 'black lives matter' hashtag? Fascist. Thinking that people are sheep? Fascist. Believing that there is only one race - the human race? Fascist. There's no reasoning. I tried. And I gave up when I asked someone who takes great pride in the fighting of hatred, and yet spouts nothing but hatred, what their opinion on the Holodomor was and their response was that it was something that a) was greatly exaggerated by the right and b) wasn't as bad as all that, and I wondered to myself at that moment if that person knew how close to those idiots that deny that the holocaust happened they sounded. I just gave up. I can't anymore. 
I deleted all my social media accounts a few days ago, and insofar as I can I'll be trying to delete as much as I can of my digital footprint. I don't want to be a part of this anymore. I don't want any more arguments against those that will always think themselves on the moral high ground, and who are, in fact, just as awful as those they fight.

We refuse to understand what's fundamentally flawed with our world, and that cost us our future. Why is there racism? Why is there inequality? Why is there so much misery in the world? We can't tackle these matters if we don't attack the root causes. It's like putting out fires with gasoline. We seem to take, unfortunately, great pride in seeing the forest for the trees. We want to treat the symptoms but not the disease. That disease is poverty. That disease is hunger. That disease is called not having even a shallow piece of dignity in so much of the world. Not until then can everything else be erradicated as well.
There's a phrase in latin - 'Cui bono?'. Listen, I'm dumb as shit, I couldn't even finish high school, but come on - who benefits? Who benefits from human misery? Is it you? Is it us? Is it the poor? No, you damn well know who does.
And do you know what's an easy thing to do? Trying to ignite a race war, because it's so much easier for the hoi polloi to fight themselves than to fight the elite. Do you know what's happening while this race war brews? In Chile there have been protests and riots. Countries in south and central America are on the verge of famine. In Hong Kong protests continue. All these things are facets of a worldwide system that's been put in place to control us, a system that allows for police brutality the world over, a system that allows for generations of children to be marched off to die in senseless wars, a system that would rather build bombs than schools, a system that would rather profit from us than give us a dignified existence.

Though you don't know it, or don't acknowledge it, we're in the middle of a war right now - a class war. This war has been waged on us - we, the people - from time immemorial. And leading it are the generals who understand that the supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting and supreme excellence consists of breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting. (This is from Sun Tzu's 'The art of War'). Leading it are the generals that not only choose their battlefields, they choose their own rules. And it's always pawn against pawn, because it's so much easier for them to have us fight ourselves. Not until we realize that, indeed, not only do we not need them, we are better off without them, will we be free. No amount of hashtags or black squares or rainbows will change anything. These idiocies are proof that we truly respond well to the conditioning imposed on us. Until the time that we line the parliaments and houses of government and the corporate offices with the heads of those who exploit us willingly, we'll never be free. Until the time that we no longer allow these failed systems to dictate our lives, we'll never be free. We could end this, not without blood, not without loss, but we could end this. Imagine a world that doesn't spend money on guns. Imagine a world that doesn't spend money on armies because we've done away with the concept of borders and we're now a global community working for the continued survival of the human race. Imagine a world where children never go to bed hungry nor know the sound of rockets and bombs. Imagine a world where health and the sciences and education truly become paramount.
We could have this. We don't want to, not really.

This is the world. It's not the one we were supposed to have, but it's the one we made.
We did this. We did it with open eyes and willing hands. We broke it, and there is no putting it back together.

I wish you all could prove me wrong, but you can't. There's no such hope of that in me. We're all of us stupid, we're all of us fighting the wrong wars. We're all of us unaware that yet another war has already begun being fought, and as always, we're losing already - the war for resources. We march happily towards extinction because we can't see past the whip. And maybe it's time I made my peace with that. In a few decades no one will remember us anymore and the earth will eventually fade into obsolescence, as a grateful universe smiles. I just wish we could all have made this a better place to live in.

Tuesday, June 2, 2020

Do you think you deserve your freedom?

I made a mistake. I don't do this often, but once a decade or so I'll make a political post of some kind. It always falls on deaf ears. I made this mistake again, and now I'm going away because I can't live with such narrow minded people. Everything you are doing is wrong. Hashtags don't mean anything. Riots don't mean anything. All they do is feed your ego so you can pat yourself on the back for doing your part. And yet tomorrow the wind will blow and all will be as it is, because you don't want true change.
You see, it won't be until the people march down on their governments and depose them and mount their heads on spikes that things will change. It won't be until all the corporations that profit off of your lives are burned to the ground that things will change. You will never be able to evolve as long as you are beholden to failed systems that you yourself enable. Make no mistake, this is a war. It's us, the many, the working class, the hoi polloi, vs them, the few, the elite, the hoi oligoi. It's a class war being waged on us, and we're losing it because we play right into their hands. Failing to understand that the system that kills people George Floyd is the same system that sends tens of thousands of poor white, black, hispanic, kids to die in far off wars is on us. We're fighting the wrong fights.
YOU ARE NOT CHANGING ANYTHING WHEN YOU POST ONLINE ABOUT HOW YOUR THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS ARE WITH SOMEONE.
YOU ARE NOT CHANGING ANYTHING WITH MEANINGLESS HASHTAGS.
Learn from history - know what the 'secessio plebis' was, know what 'sic semper tyrannus' means.
THE REVOLUTION THE WORLD NEEDS CAN'T BE FOUGHT LIKE THIS - THAT' S WHY NELSON MANDELA UNDERSTOOD GUERILLA WARFARE AND WHY THE ANC RAN BOMBINGS.
A new society cannot be built without first tearing down the existing, non-working society we have.
And this is something people will never understand, because the herd mentality that we display means that we've become the docile, easily led sheep they want us to be. It's a shame. Because we are actively choosing slavery over freedom.