A walk

The night is dark and the air is heavy. It is 4:30am on a weekday morning, so the city is as deadly still as it ever is. Dawn will soon break, and it is currently twilight. All the bars are closed, everyone has gone home, and the only sounds you hear are the sounds of a city taking its short-lived rest before it all begins again.

Walking through these streets, your thoughts are truly your own. No interruptions and no distractions. In New York, it is one of the few times when almost nothing invades your consciousness. To someone that grew up in the constant rush of activity that is the city, this can be unnerving. But spend enough lonely nights in the woods, and the silence becomes relaxing, a break from the neverending stream of stimuli.

No cars, no people, and no noise except for the occasional whizzing car, scurrying rat, or snoring homeless man. The city seems almost dead, a ghost town, a now-dead monument to the arrogance of a country that had one of the quickest rises in world history and is now slowly declining. Roman dominance lasted 1000 years; American dominance has lasted 60 and is already fading. Things really do move so much quicker than they used to. Traveling from New York to California 150 years ago was a dangerous trek that took months; now it is a 5 hour flight that people consider inconveninet, and we are always seeking ways to speed this up. We are so quick to reach our destinations, that we take no enjoyment from the journey. Is this really progress?

I check my phone and see that it is 4:55 now. The city is slowly waking from its slumber. Twilight fades into dawn as people rise to go to their jobs and the day begins anew. I am sitting in an open park now, staring at the city as it wakes. It is womb, home and coffin to me. It is where I was born, where I live, and where I will probably one day die. I suppose it is possible circumstances will take me away from here, but at the moment, those circumstances are not forseeable.

I grin. It is 5:00am now. My time is done. The city is nearly done waking up, and I can hear the sounds of cars driving, people walking and birds chirping. Twilight is nearly completely extinguished, and soon the activity that never seems to cease will begin in earnest.

I have yet to reach a decision, but that is irrelevant. People are far too eager to reach destinations and attain goals. What good is reaching somewhere if you don't take the time to savor and enjoy the journey? Any decision worth making requires proper time to make.

Perhaps another walk tomorrow morning, then. When the city is dead and seems to truly belong to me.

Kipple

"Kipple" is a term from Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep that refers to the idea that the universe is slowly degenerating, since useless junk seems to reproduce itself when no one is looking.

I stare around my room. Books, DVDs and matchbooks all over the floor. My lucky backpack that I have used since junior high sits slumped in a corner. A nearly-full garbage of mostly soda cans and used condoms. My desk holds a printer I never bothered to hook up or even plug in, two briefcases of poker chips, two half empty bottles of hard liquor, two full bottles of hard liquor and a pack of cigarettes. And, of course, more matchbooks and more books. Scraps of paper with information of varying import are scattered around my desk as well, along with video games, deoderant, Listerine and a box of Mentos. A knife, fingerless gloves, wallet, keys and cellphone are also lying on the desk in random places.

My desk drawers are slightly more organized. More books, more pieces of paper with information of varying import, notebooks, condoms, gift cards I keep forgetting to use, checks and packets of advil for the times when going for the bottles of advil on the windowsill next to my bed or the bathroom is simply too difficult. My books are an eclectic blend of law school books, scholarly books, comedies, classics and miscellaneous.

What does this all say about me?

If the point of life is to strive to find order and meaning, then doesn't that invariably suggest that the universe is degenerating around us even as we attempt to strike an equilibrium within our own lives? If the natural order is chaos, then why not instead embrace chaos?

This is not meant to be a scientific observation.

Sometimes, we desire to strike a match and watch the world burn. Not because we hate the world, but because the blaze would be beautiful.

Some people think in terms of end-results and consequences; I don't. I generally don't care about the end result. It is the journey, rather than the destiny, that is of true importance.

Life is a terminal illness. We are all dying, everything is decaying. Perfection is but a fleeting image, a single frame spliced into the movie reel that is our lives.

I find life completely pointless, and that idea amuses the hell out of me.

Sports

Can someone explain to me why steroids are such a big deal? I'm sorry, but if I knew that by taking certain drugs, I would be able to make millions of more dollars per year, I would almost definitely do so. And so would you.

Our athletes are taught that if they aren't doing everything they can to be better, than they are failing in their roles as athletes. How are taking drugs any different? It is their body; let them choose. Most baseball players in the 70s were taking amphetamines; does that mean we should invalidate all records from that era?

How about the fact that baseball was segregated until Jackie Robinson? Should all records from prior to the desegregation of baseball be thrown out because the league was segregated and this led to a thinning of talent?

Players nowadays have vitamins, intense workout regimens, and medical facilities players in the past could only dream of. All of these enhance performance. Where are we drawing the line?

These players are accepting the long-term hazards for the short-term gain. It is their body and their right. Let's not get all high and mighty about the "sanctity of the game."

It just sounds so damn insincere.

Economic Recession

Ignore what our beloved media tells you; we are on the brink of the greatest economic crisis since the Great Depression, and the government is doing absolutely nothing useful to avert it. The current plan is to give $600 billion to the companies that got us in this predictament, in the hope that fixing them will trickle down and help the entire economy. Wait, doesn't this sound like Reaganomics? And didn't Reaganomics help get us here (along with the following factors: inflation, increased workforce leading to increased competition, the outsourcing of blue-collar jobs and the fact that our entire economy was designed as a giant ponzi scheme that is now bottoming out as all eventually do)? And everyone is ignoring the pink elephant in the room (his name is Rampage, please say hello, because he will soon be dancing on our heads), which is this: where exactly is this money coming from?

The Great Depression of the 1930s was caused by a myriad of factors, including people buying with money they didn't have and a faltering world economy. Now, I know that is completely different from the current causes of the economic depression, but bear with me. There were three main initiatives that dragged us out of that depression, and I suggest three similar initiatives to get us out of this one.

1) The creation of millions of jobs via government-funded projects

People without jobs need government help to live, but have no money, and so pay no taxes, which mean other taxpayers need to give them money so they can live...I think one can see how this cycle can quickly spiral out of control. In the 1930s, FDR gave people jobs with government-funded projects that at the same time did useful things. My suggestion is, rather than giving banks $600 billion to go back to the status quo that got us here in the first place, we use a portion of that money to create millions of jobs. What will these jobs be, you ask?

I am glad you asked! I believe these billions of dollars should be used to fund nation-wide urban reconstruction projects, focusing on building more housing and improving public transportation systems. By the same token, cross-country public transportation systems (namely, Amtrak) should be more extensive and fixed up. Doing this would do wonders towards improving the infrastructure of our cities, move away from our overreliance on cars, and entice people to move into cities, hopefully decreasing that abomination known as suburban sprawl.

2) The legalization of previously banned substances to increase tax flow

The repeal of Prohibition decreased crime and increased tax dollars, two very good outcomes. While I support the elimination of all victimless crimes (an issue I will probably expound upon in a later post), at the very least marijuana should be legalized. The legalization of marijuana would give the United States millions in tax dollars and decrease crime. Also, it is good to legalize a drug that helps people relax in these tense times, right?

3) Using war to stir an economic boon

FDR had World War II to both cement his legacy and provide the needed economic stimulus to really get us out of the Great Depression. Of course, World War III is far more likely to be the Apocalypse than any sort of economic boon, but let us work in the opposite way. Before the 1950s, the United States only maintained a standing army of officers, and used enlistment drives or drafts to fill its ranks in times of need. However, during and after the 1950s, the military-industrial complex became a behemoth that guzzled billions of dollars a year for little reason. Even now, we maintain military bases in 130 countries for unknown purposes.

I propose that we slash the defense budget significantly, get out of Iraq (they don't want us there and we don't want to be there) and maintain only a standing army of officers. Why spend billions in the development of newer and better weapons when almost all of it is completely meaningless? With the existence of nuclear weapons, there will be no major wars due to the doctrine of Mutually Assured Destruction. By saving billions a year, we help to balance the budget and maybe can get rid of this deficit, or at least put the money to better uses.

Of angels and demons...

I think about a lot of random things, and one of the random thoughts I am thinking about right now centers on how little the Bible makes sense. Not for the classical reasons, mind you, but due to Revelations. Why do I say this, you ask? Well, think about what the Bible postulates: God is all-powerful and Satan doesn't stand a chance of victory. However, despite this obvious fact, God will allow Satan to rule the Earth for a thousand years because, well, it's just going to happen like that. There is no real explanation for why Satan will have a thousand-year reign; he just sort of will.

This bothers me quite a bit. It simply doesn't make sense. In fact, what it sounds like to me is that the outcome isn't quite so assured, and this is a way to hedge your bets. "Oh no, it only looks like we lost; really, we are going to win...later. I promise." The whole idea that Satan has no chance against God never really made much sense to me. Another thing; considering that without Satan there can be no free will (if there is ultimate good, there needs to be its polar opposite in order for people to enjoy true free will; if this needs further explanation, let me know), and that God (if he is all-knowing) knew Lucifer would rebel, doesn't it seem that God kind of needed Lucifer to rebel? In which case, doesn't that make Lucifer's sacrifice far more meaningful that Jesus'?

I actually believe that the final battle is not as set in stone as the Bible would have you believe.

Story

There once was a white cat that grew up in a family of white cats. But this white cat, he was different, because he had a black stripe right down his back, kind of like an inverted skunk. He was cunning, lazy and aloof, plus he always enjoyed a good fight. These traits were like no one else in his family, and eventually he struck out on his own.

At first, he found a group of black cats who accepted him as one of their own. They too enjoyed a good fight, and though they lacked the white cat's cunning, they appreciated it all the same. But these black cats, they were vicious cats and lived a hard life. Slowly, the white cat extricated himself from their lives, feeling as if that was not the life he wanted, and the black cats one day disappeared.

So this white cat with the black stripe, looked for another group of cats to hang out with. He found another group of white cats led by several larger cats, and at first, this cat thought he had found a place. However, these cats began abusing him, and he fought back with an unexpected ferocity. The larger cats, interested in maintaining the status quo, informed this newcomer that if he continued to fight, he would be turned away. Not knowing any better, he bowed his head submissively and accepted the punishment until the day he became free.

Several years later, this white cat with the black stripe still can't find a place to call home or a group to call his own. In that time, he tried being alone, but realized he needed other cats. He tried hundreds of different things, but none worked. He still wanders, seeking a place to belong.

----

I hate that story.

Characters

I have tried my hand at writing when I was fifteen, because at fifteen you are convinced you have all the life experience necessary to write something halfway decent. However, because I have problems creating a plot, characters people actually like and even writing itself, that idea quickly (and probably thankfully) fell by the wayside in pursuit of more productive pursuits, such as playing video games and picking my nose. My main problems were twofold; I was fine at writing a scene, but not great at making it fit within the overall scope of the story because I am easily distracted, and I was far more proficient at killing my characters than actually creating one you'd care about.

Of course, writing up characters people care about is extraordinarily difficult. I think this explains why video game developers and movie studios have pretty much tossed out the idea of being original in lieu of constantly regurgitating the same characters that we already showed with our money that we liked, until we throw bricks through their windows in a desperate plea to get them to stop because we would like to maintain some shred of respect for the characters we used to like (this unfortunately did not save Indiana Jones from George Lucas, but Lucas may be better at killing his own characters than I am).

On a complete aside, am I the only one who is amused that the title character in the "Lord of the Rings" never actually makes a tangible appearance in the story?

Anyway, back to the main point, the problem with creating a character is they have to feel real and yet make sense being the subject of a story. If they are too perfect, no one can relate to them. On the opposite end, villains that are pure evil simply for the sake of being evil (a la Sauron) tend to be uninteresting. If I have one complaint with "The Lord of the Rings," besides my distaste for Tolkien's writing style, it is that Sauron was portrayed as so obviously evil and wrong that it made me want him to win. Take this with a grain of salt though, because I tend to root for villains in books and movies (but not in video games; Sephiroth may be one of my favorite characters of all time, but I still wnated to kill him). I think that is because in a book or movie, I feel far more detached than in a video game, where even if in a linear game, I still feel far more involved.

The reason creating characters people care about is because no matter how amazing a story is, the characters need to be interesting, or no one will care enough to get involved. In fact, I believe good characterization to be more important than a good plot. One of the moments that really stuck out for me growing up was playing Final Fantasy 7 when I was ten or eleven, and having Aeris get murdered. I was still new to video games at the time, but even since then, I can not think of very many games where a major character who you used constantly was killed a little less than midway through the game. That stuck with me, because it was completely unexpected, and because Aeris was a really good character. Even when I realized (years later) that she had to die so she could be the female version of Obi-Wan (she even dies at the same point, at the end of the first of three discs), it still stuck with me.

I could write a hundred stories and kill a thousand characters, and yet none of their deaths would have even a shred of the weight that Aeris's death did, simply because she was a well-created character.

Fade to Black

It is currently 8:05 am and I haven't slept yet. Actually, I haven't slept in quite a while, so everything has that faded look to it. Things look less real right now; colors are blander, edges are blurred and everything blends into everything else. As I continue to stay awake, this fade will continue until either I pass out or I begin to hallucinate.

This fade is not only a visual occurence; my thinking and emotions fade with it. They become slower, less coherent and not always based on anything tangible. I think I can understand why not sleeping for too long leads to insanity; you fade away until you are so detached from the world that you need hallucinations to even have some interaction with the world around you. If these hallucinations are allowed to go on long enough unchecked, they will become your reality, and you will be insane.

We like to believe that we can detach ourselves from this world, but really, we can't. We simply don't function in that way; we are social beings who require stimulation from our environment. Give a baby only the most minimal of attention and raise him in a warehouse, and you get a Romanian (this is a reference to a story relayed to me by a Romanian of dubious background I knew back in the day, so no, you won't get this). I think it is because of how excruciatingly difficult it is to detach yourself from this world that many cultures see such detachment as a good thing (see: meditation, nirvana, enlightenment, trance states, television).

As I write, I become sidetracked, and the point I began making has now eluded me. I could go back and attempt to regain the thread of the inner monologue, but I don't feel like talking to myself. I said some very bad things that I probably didn't mean, but I need a time out (I need a schizophrenic friend to help me out with the pronouns here; it is really far more confusing than is fully necessary). Have you ever talked to yourself to try to figure something out, and forget which is you and which is, um, you? I don't suppose that makes sense, but an astute reader would still understand the point I am getting at.

I forget a lot of things, and I sometimes idly wonder if I have forgotten something really important. My memory amazes me sometimes; I have no ability to remember names or faces, but I can remember tons of stupid details that you told me about yourself. I sometimes wonder why that is. I sometimes wonder why my memory works the way it does, and I want to figure it out because I really feel like I have forgotten something that is really actually quite important.

Whatever could it be?

Darkness

This entry is not nearly as depressing as the title makes it sound; this is merely a nod to the fact that I am attempting to write with no lights on, using naught but my knowledge of the general layout of a keyboard (on an unfamiliar laptop, no less!) and the light of the computer screen. So, there will be typos. Deal with it.

I am astonished at the ways in which you can diminish the value of something. A man once said "whomever invented cards was smart, but whomever invented chips was a genius" and it is so undeniably true. Take a stack of ten hundred dollar bills, and it feels like a significant sum of money. Yet, in my hand I hold a single chip that can be redeemed for $1000 and it feels like it has almost no value. I could place it as a bet on a single spin of the roulette wheel and feel significantly less bothered than if I pulled out ten hundreds and used them to place the better.

This raises an interesting point: why do things have so much more value when there is more physical effort involved in their handling? I feel that it is because this chip is so small and lightweight that it feels like almost nothing, while ten hundreds would make a bulge in my wallet and would be unwieldly to use outside of a casino or bank. For the same reason, the transfer from silver and gold to paper money, followed by the recent transfer to electronic money, are equally revolutionary.

We like to think of value as being objective and real, but really, it is transient and relative. A $100 means something different to me and a billionaire, and at the same time, a $100 means something different to me whether it is in cash or chip form, and whether I am in a casino or in a clothing store.