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?
Friday, January 9, 2009
Thursday, January 1, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Destiny
Destiny; a romantic idea with unromantic philosophical ramifications. Destiny postulates that sometimes "things were meant to be," that there is a way things are meant to be, an underlying order to the universe that we can't see but we follow anyway. To me, destiny and free will are incompatible. Destiny and fate imply determinism; that all things that have been, are and will be was determined at the beginning of the universe. Determinism implies that our will is meaningless; we are merely puppets in the great cosmic scheme and we may as well be dolls for all the meaning our decisions and desires have.
Even if there is some validity to this idea, I see no appeal to living my life believing in such an idea. I will apply a different version of Occam's Razor here; I have two equally valid theories, but one grants me control of my life and the other takes the control away. To me, there is no contest. If I am going to live my life, then I want to believe I am in control of it and that my decisions matter. Otherwise, why even bother going through the charade?
Of course, people like the ideas of fate and destiny because, yet again, it allows them to take the easy path. If bad things happen, they were destined to happen. If there is fate, then that means that even if I am having poor luck, things are bound to turn in my favor soon. Ideas such as this encourage people to keep making the same bad decisions, because they never have to examine their own lives for reasons why things are the way they are.
I blame no one else when things are bad in my life; I make enough poor decisions that I am sure that any misfortune I incur is a direct result of one of those poor decisions. What no one wants to admit is that we all make poor decisions. We may justify them in our mind with various excuses (it was one time, I love him/her, I needed it, etc.), but we are guilty of it. I see nothing wrong with that. Part of living is being able to make your own decisions and live by the consequences. Sure, I could always make good decisions, but then my life would be boring and I'd be miserable. I accept the possible consequences for my actions because I did a cost-benefit analysis, and the benefit of having a good time is far better than the cost of possible consequences that might suck. This may sound like a justification, but it isn't; they are still bad decisions. I simply accept that fact.
Of course, people want to live in fantasy worlds where they never make a bad decision, because they are perfect. Living in their castles in the air, they are untouchable and infallible. I can't understand living like that. Sure, reality sucks, but that's what makes it fun. Nothing bores me more than knowing exactly what is going to happen. Leave destiny and fate to the romantics and the poets; give me good old chaos and unpredictability any day of the week.
It's funny, I have been told I have a gift for figuring people out, and yet to me, the most awesome thing anyone can do is something completely unexpected.
Even if there is some validity to this idea, I see no appeal to living my life believing in such an idea. I will apply a different version of Occam's Razor here; I have two equally valid theories, but one grants me control of my life and the other takes the control away. To me, there is no contest. If I am going to live my life, then I want to believe I am in control of it and that my decisions matter. Otherwise, why even bother going through the charade?
Of course, people like the ideas of fate and destiny because, yet again, it allows them to take the easy path. If bad things happen, they were destined to happen. If there is fate, then that means that even if I am having poor luck, things are bound to turn in my favor soon. Ideas such as this encourage people to keep making the same bad decisions, because they never have to examine their own lives for reasons why things are the way they are.
I blame no one else when things are bad in my life; I make enough poor decisions that I am sure that any misfortune I incur is a direct result of one of those poor decisions. What no one wants to admit is that we all make poor decisions. We may justify them in our mind with various excuses (it was one time, I love him/her, I needed it, etc.), but we are guilty of it. I see nothing wrong with that. Part of living is being able to make your own decisions and live by the consequences. Sure, I could always make good decisions, but then my life would be boring and I'd be miserable. I accept the possible consequences for my actions because I did a cost-benefit analysis, and the benefit of having a good time is far better than the cost of possible consequences that might suck. This may sound like a justification, but it isn't; they are still bad decisions. I simply accept that fact.
Of course, people want to live in fantasy worlds where they never make a bad decision, because they are perfect. Living in their castles in the air, they are untouchable and infallible. I can't understand living like that. Sure, reality sucks, but that's what makes it fun. Nothing bores me more than knowing exactly what is going to happen. Leave destiny and fate to the romantics and the poets; give me good old chaos and unpredictability any day of the week.
It's funny, I have been told I have a gift for figuring people out, and yet to me, the most awesome thing anyone can do is something completely unexpected.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Ethics
Being able to tell the difference between right and wrong. It really is the holy grail of knowledge. It sounds so simple, and then, once you begin delving into it, you realize just how many shades of grey there really are. You can try to create a system of ethics with broad strokes, but it will often fall apart. Yet, if you try to examine each case individually, you leave too much to individual discretion.
I was struck with an idea a few weeks ago: was it right to create nuclear weapons?
On the one hand, it was in the interest in scientific advancement. Furthermore, it saved hundreds of thousands of lives and ended World War II several months earlier than it would have ended otherwise.
Looking at it from a broader spectrum, however, and it seems like an amazingly short-sighted decision. Having a weapon creates a desire to use that weapon. There is a very good argument that humanity should not posess any weapon capable of causing our own species to become extinct.
Of course, the nuclear weapon has created more peace than any other weapon in history. Without nukes, the Cold War would probably have not been quite as cold, and any war between the First and Second Worlds would have cost tens of millions of lives. At the same time, the nuclear bomb feels like a Sword of Damocles, just waiting to fall and impale us.
And on and on it goes. A question like this, even if answerable, points to the main problem with ethics. It is incredibly hard to distinguich right from wrong. If one insisted on distilling the best ethical code into one sentence, I would have to quote Jesus: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." This simple phrase covers so many ethical situations.
In the end, determing right from wrong is an insanely difficult task. No matter how objective we attempt to be, there will be bias. I choose to trust my instincts, rather than follow any set ethical code. I believe that by doing what I truly believe is right, then in the very least if there is a Final Judgment, I will be judged on my own merits and beliefs, and not those I parroted from another in the vain hope that it would grant me some relief. More secularly, by doing what I believe is right, I live a life that I can be happy with, which I believe is the ultimate goal.
Any other thoughts?
I was struck with an idea a few weeks ago: was it right to create nuclear weapons?
On the one hand, it was in the interest in scientific advancement. Furthermore, it saved hundreds of thousands of lives and ended World War II several months earlier than it would have ended otherwise.
Looking at it from a broader spectrum, however, and it seems like an amazingly short-sighted decision. Having a weapon creates a desire to use that weapon. There is a very good argument that humanity should not posess any weapon capable of causing our own species to become extinct.
Of course, the nuclear weapon has created more peace than any other weapon in history. Without nukes, the Cold War would probably have not been quite as cold, and any war between the First and Second Worlds would have cost tens of millions of lives. At the same time, the nuclear bomb feels like a Sword of Damocles, just waiting to fall and impale us.
And on and on it goes. A question like this, even if answerable, points to the main problem with ethics. It is incredibly hard to distinguich right from wrong. If one insisted on distilling the best ethical code into one sentence, I would have to quote Jesus: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." This simple phrase covers so many ethical situations.
In the end, determing right from wrong is an insanely difficult task. No matter how objective we attempt to be, there will be bias. I choose to trust my instincts, rather than follow any set ethical code. I believe that by doing what I truly believe is right, then in the very least if there is a Final Judgment, I will be judged on my own merits and beliefs, and not those I parroted from another in the vain hope that it would grant me some relief. More secularly, by doing what I believe is right, I live a life that I can be happy with, which I believe is the ultimate goal.
Any other thoughts?
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Jesus
Today is Christmas Eve. That means tomorrow is the Christian celebration of Jesus' birth. Of course, if you read the Bible carefully, you can probably guess that Jesus was born in the spring. Furthermore, the reason December 25th was chosen as the day of Jesus' birth was because it coincided nicely with a Zoroastrian celebration of a son of a god who was conceived of a virgin. Stop me when this sounds familiar. Christianity has a tendency to 'borrow' pagan holidays and make them our own. But that is a discussion for another day!
Today, we will focus on Jesus. Because, technically, that is who this time of year is supposed to be a celebration of. But who was Jesus, exactly?
If you read the synoptic gospels (if you don't know this term, this discussion is probably above your head and you should just stop now), Jesus will appear to be little more than a prophet. The whole "Son of God" angle is barely mentioned. Luke is the only one that even tries. Of course, that could be because Mark was writing mostly to early Christians, and his main interest was in giving them hope that their martyrdom would have meaning. Hence why he writes the least and tend sto get straight to the point. Matthew, on the other hand, was writing to Jews and attempting to convince them that Jesus was the Messiah the Jews had been waiting for. Any talk of being the actual "Son of God" would be blasphemous. Luke, on the other hand, was writing mostly to Greeks, but because he was using Mark (among other, older, documents that we no longer have) as his base material, he barely goes beyond it.
John, on the other hand, mucks the whole thing up from a theological point of view. The other three have their differences, sure, but they are mostly reconciable. John is barely reconciable. However, John is the only gospel that focuses on the divinity of Jesus. A reading of just John will convince you that Jesus wasn't human at all. Of course, that is because John is not really a text from the original Orthodox Church that eventually became the Catholic Church and traces its lineage to St. Peter. John is actually a gnostic text, a completely different branch of Christianity, but included in the Bible because it was proof of Jesus' divine nature.
The gnostic belief about Jesus is actually more akin to Buddhism that current-day Christianity; Jesus was far more divine than human, and he was "the way, the truth, and the light" (recall that famous passage from John?) by which gnosis, or knowledge (specifically mystical knowledge), could be obtained. This difference in opinion led to sharp divides in the early church over such issues as: was there a bodily resurrection? Was Peter or Mary the true heir? Is there only one god?
The decisions made by the Orthodox Church at the Council where the very dogma still followed to this day was made for a variety of reasons, many owing to political reasons, rather than religous ones. So where does that leave us? The modern day view of Jesus was crafted by a council of Church elders who were told by the Emperor of Rome that he wanted Christianity to become the main religion of Rome, but to that, they needed one cohesive belief system.
Of course, the various views of Jesus do not end there...
Dostoevsky raised an interesting point in "The Grand Inquisitor," questioning whether the current incarnation of the Church would see Jesus as more of a nuisance than actually useful. Barton in "The Man No One Knows" saw Jesus as a master of marketing, explain his huge popularity. "The Last Temptation of Christ" raised an interesting point about whether there were actually four temptations.
The point is, who is Jesus? Whose birth are we celebrating tomorrow?
Today, we will focus on Jesus. Because, technically, that is who this time of year is supposed to be a celebration of. But who was Jesus, exactly?
If you read the synoptic gospels (if you don't know this term, this discussion is probably above your head and you should just stop now), Jesus will appear to be little more than a prophet. The whole "Son of God" angle is barely mentioned. Luke is the only one that even tries. Of course, that could be because Mark was writing mostly to early Christians, and his main interest was in giving them hope that their martyrdom would have meaning. Hence why he writes the least and tend sto get straight to the point. Matthew, on the other hand, was writing to Jews and attempting to convince them that Jesus was the Messiah the Jews had been waiting for. Any talk of being the actual "Son of God" would be blasphemous. Luke, on the other hand, was writing mostly to Greeks, but because he was using Mark (among other, older, documents that we no longer have) as his base material, he barely goes beyond it.
John, on the other hand, mucks the whole thing up from a theological point of view. The other three have their differences, sure, but they are mostly reconciable. John is barely reconciable. However, John is the only gospel that focuses on the divinity of Jesus. A reading of just John will convince you that Jesus wasn't human at all. Of course, that is because John is not really a text from the original Orthodox Church that eventually became the Catholic Church and traces its lineage to St. Peter. John is actually a gnostic text, a completely different branch of Christianity, but included in the Bible because it was proof of Jesus' divine nature.
The gnostic belief about Jesus is actually more akin to Buddhism that current-day Christianity; Jesus was far more divine than human, and he was "the way, the truth, and the light" (recall that famous passage from John?) by which gnosis, or knowledge (specifically mystical knowledge), could be obtained. This difference in opinion led to sharp divides in the early church over such issues as: was there a bodily resurrection? Was Peter or Mary the true heir? Is there only one god?
The decisions made by the Orthodox Church at the Council where the very dogma still followed to this day was made for a variety of reasons, many owing to political reasons, rather than religous ones. So where does that leave us? The modern day view of Jesus was crafted by a council of Church elders who were told by the Emperor of Rome that he wanted Christianity to become the main religion of Rome, but to that, they needed one cohesive belief system.
Of course, the various views of Jesus do not end there...
Dostoevsky raised an interesting point in "The Grand Inquisitor," questioning whether the current incarnation of the Church would see Jesus as more of a nuisance than actually useful. Barton in "The Man No One Knows" saw Jesus as a master of marketing, explain his huge popularity. "The Last Temptation of Christ" raised an interesting point about whether there were actually four temptations.
The point is, who is Jesus? Whose birth are we celebrating tomorrow?
Monday, December 22, 2008
Instinct
I try to leave my life more on instinct than rationality. If I try to think things out, I get caught up in my own biases and convuluted logic, and come to many incorrect conclusions. Things tend to work out much better for me when I just do what feels right or comes naturally.
If this is the case, why do I sometimes lack the courage to pull the trigger?
I believe what I call 'instincts' is merely me analyzing a situation and drawing an instant conclusion based on my knowledge but skipping any cognitive analysis. It is a little more complicated than that, but I don't really feel like delving into the full scope of my belief about what instincts are and where they come from. Needless to say, I believe they are more than just mindless drives, though motivations and drives are an integral part of them.
So if I feel like something is right, why let fear stop me?
Sometimes knowing what to do and doing it are miles apart. Maybe I don't really want what I think I want?
If this is the case, why do I sometimes lack the courage to pull the trigger?
I believe what I call 'instincts' is merely me analyzing a situation and drawing an instant conclusion based on my knowledge but skipping any cognitive analysis. It is a little more complicated than that, but I don't really feel like delving into the full scope of my belief about what instincts are and where they come from. Needless to say, I believe they are more than just mindless drives, though motivations and drives are an integral part of them.
So if I feel like something is right, why let fear stop me?
Sometimes knowing what to do and doing it are miles apart. Maybe I don't really want what I think I want?
Boredom
For some reason, I feel a constant need to be doing something. I can never sit still; I am always twitching and shaking. I also can't deal with silence. Freud would probably just blame sex, but who listens to amphetamine addicts anyway? Biopsychology would claim that there is something wrong with my dopamine levels. Jung would just turn around and blame the collective unconscious, the run off into the mountains screaming about his archetypes. Existential psychology would claim I have deep and unresolved personal issues revolving around me not liking myself very much. Social psychology, my specialty, simply wouldn't give a fuck because who the hell cares about an individual anyway?
And on and on it goes. Psychology is funny like that; it is never wrong because it gives you a hundred different answers, and half of them are so vague that they could apply to anyone. Psychology is kind of like cold reading, fortune telling and all those other shams, in it is right only because it offers so many explanations that one is bound to fit. The wondeful thing about the human psyche is how quickly we are willing to attach belief to anything that sounds remotely possible.
Here is a quick example. Pop psychology likes to claim that the best way to relieve stress is to rip up pieces of paper or punch a pillow, you know, catharsis. However, various studies have shown that catharsis actually increases violent tendencies and makes things worse, not better. Oh, and 'Doctor' John Gray (the guy who wrote the oft-quoted book Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus) got his PhD from an unaccredited school and his book didn't so much as give any real insight as tell people what they wanted to hear.
People love easy answers. But, not any old easy answers. No, no, no! People want easy answers that sound good. It sounds really good that my constant twitching and aversion to silence is a result of fucked up dopamine levels or deeply rooted intrapsych issues, just like it sounds really good that men and women are so biologically and psychologically different that they may as well be from two different planets. The real reason we like these 'easy' answers is it would absolve us for any blame. I can't be blamed for screwy brain chemistry or psychological problems, just like if a man and a woman have a miscommunication, they can't be blamed for it.
This is bullshit. I have a big problem with any answer that absolves an individual from any blame. The reason I can't stop shaking is because I have no patience and I constantly want to be doing something, even if it is completely pointless and unproductive (I'll start a hundred straight games of solitaire without actually finishing any of them), and I hate silence because I am simply unaccustomed to it, seeing as how I grew up in a city. The reason men and women have communication problems is because our society has divided us and given us two seperate set of rules to live by, or, more likely, people just don't like to listen.
And on and on it goes. Psychology is funny like that; it is never wrong because it gives you a hundred different answers, and half of them are so vague that they could apply to anyone. Psychology is kind of like cold reading, fortune telling and all those other shams, in it is right only because it offers so many explanations that one is bound to fit. The wondeful thing about the human psyche is how quickly we are willing to attach belief to anything that sounds remotely possible.
Here is a quick example. Pop psychology likes to claim that the best way to relieve stress is to rip up pieces of paper or punch a pillow, you know, catharsis. However, various studies have shown that catharsis actually increases violent tendencies and makes things worse, not better. Oh, and 'Doctor' John Gray (the guy who wrote the oft-quoted book Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus) got his PhD from an unaccredited school and his book didn't so much as give any real insight as tell people what they wanted to hear.
People love easy answers. But, not any old easy answers. No, no, no! People want easy answers that sound good. It sounds really good that my constant twitching and aversion to silence is a result of fucked up dopamine levels or deeply rooted intrapsych issues, just like it sounds really good that men and women are so biologically and psychologically different that they may as well be from two different planets. The real reason we like these 'easy' answers is it would absolve us for any blame. I can't be blamed for screwy brain chemistry or psychological problems, just like if a man and a woman have a miscommunication, they can't be blamed for it.
This is bullshit. I have a big problem with any answer that absolves an individual from any blame. The reason I can't stop shaking is because I have no patience and I constantly want to be doing something, even if it is completely pointless and unproductive (I'll start a hundred straight games of solitaire without actually finishing any of them), and I hate silence because I am simply unaccustomed to it, seeing as how I grew up in a city. The reason men and women have communication problems is because our society has divided us and given us two seperate set of rules to live by, or, more likely, people just don't like to listen.
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