Titles Inhibit Me Right Now and Separate Entries Scare Me for the Foreseeable Future

swimming through jagged waters never felt like this before
the undertow is peaceful
but my body won't let my mind succumb to plummet
to acknowledge a judge's decision
in favor of mind over body

a coup
a coup
a coup that can't happen
because the people wear masks of red, blue, green
and on and on and on…

I don't know where I'm going
I don't know where I've been
I don't know who I've known
The mirror has gone to static
And programming will resume
As soon as I...

Images and video are coming in from the wreckage
And here on the ground we're feeling the tension
But a detached mist hovers
We can't get at it
We don't even try

The tension isn't tension:
It's a force sweeping through
leaving nothing but complacency
in its wake
in its wake
we're at our own wake and don't know it
__________________________________

in a fog at dusk
the day we met has broad shoulders
big enough to blindly bully the unseen
adaptation's the game
i remember It and nothing else
[must forget, must forget]

O, fragmentary knowledge?
Where's the black box
The Black Box!
A holy grail we'll never know,
Should never strive for

the whole has been without lotion in the sun
there's a bottle in hand
but I'm worn out
I stagger on:
appreciative to my legs
and deploring my mind.

i'm back at the wreckage
ive forgotten my suit
the only armor i have is a paintbrush
and every shade of the rainbow

with my eyes closed, i paint
i remember:
your light gave me sight.
and i'm not worried anymore.

but i open my eyes:
[TICK, TOCK--TICK, TOCK...]
my pockets are lined with watches ticking
further
further
further
further from the moment
than it ever felt possible
when the moment was born
________________________________

i can't shake my shadow
he's a slob
and i'm a simple mirror
inseparable from him

the sirens blare
the searchlights scan
the megaphone imposes
drained of expression:
look but don't touch.

in my room, I shudder as my shoulders slump
first the right
then the left
then my legs
I goose step in time with my shadow's rhythm
And wander from swamp to swamp
_____________________________________________

It's always better on the inside
But who stays there too long?
i have plumbed the depths in isolation
only to find others content to surface fish

some say a once a month dive wont do it
you have to live there
but what is There?

There doesn't exist
And it's all in my mind
the depths are the surface too
And it's all in my mind

Wanton disregard
I soldier on with my oxygen and mask
Reality blurs but the surface is suicide

Epidemic!
Epidemic!
Epidemic!
Face the day, it's only a switch away
The newsie philosopher shouts to the faceless mob
As they christen their new baby
But there's no one home;
Please leave a message at the beep.
Get back to you in a century or two.

Untitled 3

A bat in the cave will keep the doctor away,
Or so Billy says.
He says that:
Looking in the mirror and laughing is
Pre-emptive warfare
Against enemies yet unknown,
yet to be discovered by the
24 hour news cycle in my head,
the tabloids plundering my ship,
mining its weakest points for the benefit
of some unknown tension
for some unknown bow
for a very known archer.

Possible experience is
Too Big.
The path of a whole life isn’t a box of cereal
But the difference is evasive, she said
And with a bitterly pitter-pattering heart
this realization numbed him.

A bed in flux,
Flashing in and out of existence,
In homage to the many clothes worn:
A pause button for perspective,
I desperately seek
As Zooming through monotony,
I look at the black sky overhead,
wondering is it a vulture or virus
A vulture it is and I turn up the stereo,
Another casualty of the ambiguous scapegoat,
Fate.

‘Argh’,
the day away in wakeful slumber
and fumble around Truth’s prickly, slippery bra strap tomorrow:
this moment is a tyranny upon my soul,
and I’m trapped in their
randomly interlocking concentric circles
that form vast Ven Diagram webs-
welcoming to both Pollock and Buddha.

Looking out at my miserable empire,
I feel like Alexander should have felt.
Anxious,
Bewildered,
Unprepared.

Habit is Reason’s mischievous little brother,
And the trick is to not ask,
“Who is my mother?”,
But, rather,
“How do I keep Jimmy clean?”

Untitled 2

months have passed, a commercial break to some,
but in my war torn mind,
an eternity of infinitesimal moments
oscillating back and forth into existence and
factions sit at the ready with spears made with

a blade as sharp and piercing
as I have become since the last night;

some wood mindlessly shaped,
while I lay in stupor, in wait
for the time of a season that will never come,
for flowers to return
and triumphantly bloom in pitch black;

one long piece of rope made from my own skin:
a mirror to re-mind the mind
of vanity’s allure,
and the strength of superficial certain uncertainties,
amid feeble uncertain certainties
thought by men in 2-story red brick houses,
simple structures with manicured lawns,
too proud to know the difference between
an apple and the apple.

Untitled 1

theres a space in the light of hindsight
that winds and acquiesces
with the shuffling feet and
darting, pensive eyes
of the man struggling for perspective:

understanding beyond words,
across mountain ranges,
from peak to trough
he lives as a man, finally

or, rather,
will finally live when the god within
accepts his fate as creator and destroyer:
a paradox only afforded the partially divine.

Roo 08

Well, Roo ’08 has come and gone.

I’ll be honest. Roo is my child. And I am Roo’s surrogate mother: I was pregnant with enthusiasm for half a year and then came together with my fellow surrogates and some select artists to birth a wonderful 4 day music festival in rural Tennessee. Roo is equal parts idea and concrete substance; each and every Rooer brings their concept of Roo, lives it, and creates a reality completely unfamiliar to not only the standard concert scene but the world at large. Within the nearly 600 acres covering the grounds, eclectic is the driving theme as human beings of all kinds unite to enjoy genre after genre of music. From MGMT’s psychedelic pop tunes to Tiesto’s driving beats to Pearl Jam’s grungy classic rock to the hip hop of Lupe Fiasco and Talib Kweli, there was definitely something for each person’s niche. However, Rooers are generally niche-less people. We can’t be easily wrapped up in a nice little box with a bow. We can’t be defined by one category of music or philosophy. The only definition that fits is a vague one: we are all authentic and open human beings that choose to brave the perpetual 90 degree heat and sunshine (and occasional sustained torrential downpour) of Manchester, Tennessee.

Choice is key because of all the different modern luxuries given up in favor of a simpler lifestyle. For most Rooers, a shower only happens on Monday and the trip to the portajohn is spent pondering what kind of Pollockesque combination of “stuff” they will find adorning the inside of their modern day hot box, like the container you see POW’s in, roasting away in the heat. Or the 30-40 minute walk that many face from campsite to Centeroo, where all the music goes down. These experiences that tax both the mind and body are chosen in favor of the overall experience that involves the music, of course, but also the opportunity to live in a 4 day Utopia, a 4 day test-run of a prototypical society where the freedom to act and think as one deems desirable exists with an a priori acceptance of The Other in a synthesized, unified manner. It is a freedom to be who it is you want to be - so long as it with a consenting partner and/or not harmful to any one else's passage to do the same. This takes place in two arenas: authority and peer. On the one hand, freedom is derived from a tiny, pretty much non-existent, authority presence within both Centeroo and the outside camping and vending areas; and on the other: virtually sight unseen faith in a human being based on the truth value of the very general proposition: you both made the same choice

Acts Seen
Thursday
Grand Ole Party
MGMT
Battles
Vampire Weekend

Friday
The Fiery Furnaces
Teagan and Sara
The Raconteurs
Rilo Kiley
Chris Rock
Metallica
My Morning Jacket
Tiesto

Saturday
Gogol Bordello
Mastodon
BB King
Jack Johnson
Pearl Jam
Sigur Ros

Sunday
Robert Randolph
Harrybu McCage
Aimee Mann
BSS

Best Sets
1. MGMT - From the very start the crowd was riled up to see these guys with at least 4 pre-show applauses attempting to eeke the guys on stage earlier. They didn't disappoint in the least and absolutely ripped through the first 5-6 songs. The guy on lead guitar really has a lot more area to roam in the live setting, and , overall, the band just brought a whole lot of energy.

2. BSS

3. MMJ

4. PJ

5. Metallica

6. Fiery Furnaces

7. Chris Rock

8. Aimee Mann

9. Sigur Ros

10. Harrybu McCage

Best Song
Kids/Of Moons, Birds, and Monsters/Time to Pretend - MGMT

One Big Holiday/Wordless Chorus/Lay Low - MMJ

'Black'- PJ

kc accidental/fire eye' boy/anthems - BSS

Save Me/Wise Up/Aimee Mann

Nothing Else Matters/The Unforgiven - Metallica

There was this one Fiery Furnace song that I loved but don't know the title to at this pt. Same goes for GOP.

Most Nostalgic Song
Black - PJ

Nothing Else Matters/The Unforgiven - Metallica

You are My Sunshine - BB King

Best Guitar Work
Kirk Hammett
MGMT Dude
Mike McCready
Jack White

Most Delicious Food
Chicken Gyros
Seasoned Curly Fries
Chicken on a stick
Jumbo Corn Dog

Beverage of Choice
Lemonade


Best Performer
GOP lead singer/drummer - dual duty in which neither one suffers


Best Cover
Crazy Mary/Love Reign O'er ME/Watchtower - PJ
Hot Fun - MMJ

Parent of the Year Award
At many points through out the weekend, I noticed children attending with their parents. They were of various ages - ranging from 10 year olds approaching adolescence to one girl who I swear couldn't be more than 3 years old, probably less. The parents were of different types as well: a dreadlocked young woman to remarkably average looking and "non-revolutionary". This is notable because on first blush I think many people would judge these parents as irresponsible, perhaps even many who do attend Roo themselves. I'm not sure entirely what the thought is but I think many would intuitively think that the Roo is an inappropriate place for a child. I couldn't disagree more. If as a parent you are trying to raise a child that is independent, accepting of others and cares about other human beings genuinely, is open to new experiences and possibilities, and appreciates good music, then there is no better place to take family vacations than roo. Why?? Manchester, Tennessee is a place where people gather annually to share 4 days brimming with these shared values on display on stage, in the food lines, in the audience, in the campgrounds, everywhere. This was a long intro for what is a simple story. During the end of the Raconteurs set, we were standing towards the back of the field. I believe we waiting for one of our group to return from the bathroom. I saw a mother dancing with her kids - perhaps, 3 and 5 or 4 and 6- and it was the most beautiful thing I saw all weekend. The three of them seemed so in the moment that I couldn't help imagining what a childhood filled with these types of moment would be like. I should say that I am a firm believer in environment influencing a person's development especially a very young person. The contrast between my own childhood and this somewhat hypothetical one is interesting because I think the vacations one takes has a strong influence on a person's conception of how time should be spent and the nature of success. The big vacations in my life were always to Disney World, and it seems to me the type of place that implants falsehoods rather than brings one closer to reality. Yeah, there are fun times to be had there and presumably time is spent with other human beings, but the general theme is one of inanity. You're there to make a break from reality; the names are written all over the place. Fantasyland. Magic Kingdom. Some takes us to the future: Tomorrowland. Some bring us lands and animals that are originate far away: Animal Kingdom. Some bring the allure of the ever-present modern obsession of the movies: MGM-Studios. Some bring countries straight over the ocean right to use in a nicely wrapped, contained package. Some bring us to exotic locations: the Polynesian Resort. You get the picture. The point is that the target is sensual pleasure and ignorant blissfulness: a place where everything is rose-colored and hope springs eternal. For what, who knows? I think the message is that anything can happen at Disney World. It limits the hope of fulfillment to within its confines. That's the definition of planned obsolescence. You gotta keep refilling the Disney inputs. At Bonnaroo, the specifics of seeing shows can of course only be repeated by going there again, but I don't think the enjoyment is limited to the 4 days spent there. More importantly, I think Bonnaroo is capable of a much more substantive and long-lasting change within a human being. The areas of a human being's "soul" (for lack of a better word) that are firing during a Roo trip are much different than Disney. It all goes back to the question of what is the best type of happiness which is of course a much bigger discussion than I want to get into here. But I will say that a kid that goes to Bonnaroo frequently during their childhood will be more likely


Best Story Premise Conceived
So, before the Grand 'Ole Party show, I noticed a middle-aged dude who was there all by his lonesome. He looked rather normal - no tie-dyed shirt, long hair, bushy beard, or other notable stereotype. And I saw him interact with a few young girls; they were probably 18 or 20. So, the story goes like this: Man has corporate gig with the suburban life - kids, nice house, a dog, the whole sha-bang. He encounters mid-life crisis in which he realizes the complete lack of fulfillment he has found in this life. How empty of joy. The desperate feeling that every standard he acted in accordance with was designed by someone else with the goal of controlling him. So, he walks around with this feeling in the pit of his stomach for sometime, not knowing how he could nuture it or how to even approach it. He comes across an article in a magazine that talks about Bonnaroo, the annual music festival blah blah blah - he decides this might be just the thing. He goes there - not really knowing anything except its a "liberal place" where people go to get away from modern society and enjoy some music. The real arc of the story is that he meets a young girl there - early 20's max. He makes a stunningly brilliant but stillopening remark. She laughs him off. She watches him as he rocks, seeing his earnestness, and after the show she bites the bullet, sidling up to him on the walk out, making small talk initially. the gist of the story is that they explore love, political and social philosophy, art and drugs. kind of like american beauty crossed with woodstock but with less of an unhappy ending. and no kevin spacey. probably a younger protagonist..

A Biological, Philosophical, and Political Call to Action or The Lazaroff Manifesto

This is just a blueprint, a kernel, a mission statement, a manifesto; the future will be occupied with understanding and expanding my meaning and intentions outlined here.

Definitions for clarity's sake (and of course there are different schools of thought with diverging philosophies but essentially they all share these characteristics)

Liberalism - the political structure which was birthed in America; product of
Enlightenment; fundamental principle: individuals should be free from external accountability as to how they should live their lives insofar as others are not harmed through their action; NOT indicative of modern democrats, really both parties are proponents of liberal democracy

Communitarianism - opposes focus on the individual and supports community wide agreement as to fundamental principles. this agreement on a basic level allows for the possibility that agreement can be reached on specific levels such as moral discussion and questions of competing rational justifications.

We are individuals who choose to live in communities. This clash has been on my mind for some time now, and I try to resolve the libertarian-communitarian debate by a simple synthesis. At the present date, Man has surmounted Nature, used her for his benefit and understood many of her secrets. This has caused an abstraction in the relationship: Man sees himself as largely outside of Nature. However, Man can never be outside of Nature. Man, like everything else that exists, is a component of Nature. As seen as outside of Nature, this idea of Man is a pure construction, a fiction. In much the same way, the individual is a construction. As much as we have individual self-interests and perceive ourselves in the light of the idiosyncrasies which differentiate us from each other, we all share in some pretty fundamental characteristics and we choose to live in society with others. It is my contention that philosophies advocating individualism and communities are not as incommensurable as appears, and that a neutral standard of value found from biology can reach across the chasm between the two sides.

Within libertarianism is there philosophical room for valuing individuals feeling, and actually being, accountable to others within the community for their beliefs? This, despite an apparent conflict with libertarian core principle of maximum individual freedom whereby action is limited only with respect to its harm on others, and belief, insofar as it does not harm, is immune from criticism. Obviously, it would be antithetical to force this (and how could you), but could this accountability be a solution to the problem of individuals within a libertarian, and liberal, society perhaps unable to get past already entrenched beliefs and be open to the possibility that they are wrong (which would seem to possibly flow from the freedom within both to believe/do whatever insomuch as it does not harm anyone else)? Aren't actions born from beliefs? And we live in communities where our actions and life course naturally affect many people, right? Therefore, wouldn't it be worthwhile to encourage open, rational discourse with accountability as opposed to what we have now: bitter disagreement to the point of incommensurability and the acceptance that the best we can do is disagree? I think there's a home for rational accountability between citizens within libertarianism. It's not necessary of course, it could go down another way, but this would seem to be the best manifestation of the philosophy: a libertarian society where people choose to be accountable and to hold others accountable for their beliefs/knowledge claims/reasoning because it is in the community's (and really the species') best interest and thus their individual best interest. For however much people may want to solely look at their micro situation and find happiness existing, the macro still exists as a framework, dictating the existential possibilities and limitations.

Anyone who does not engage in consistent self-reflection cannot and should not assume that they aren't pursuing a phantom happiness which will always require more and more inputs for less and less satisfaction. It hasn't been put through the appropriate tests and is most likely a false positive, the result of a life devoted to pleasure, power, money, or all three. In short, Liberalism, or any system which values protection of individuals from outside influence as to questions of the "good life", diminishes self-accountability and self-reflection and constrains our ability to agree. This disagreement limits progress, and in combination with human tendency towards a life of pleasure fulfillment, provides an inaccurate picture of human potential. (Another piece down the road will deal with The Life of Pleasure and our period's prime exploitation of it, consumerism. The sad thing is that people actually do buy into the concept that the ability to purchase whatever they want is an acceptable manifestation of their freedom...but another time. Actually, I did write something indirectly touching on consumerism, here)

The best way for this unity to become a reality is that people who share this general philosophy should all populate a given area, molding the local forms of government in accordance with their principles, and slowly expanding outwards like the aftershock of an earthquake which never stops. You'd think that as the number of people moving in became greater, those who disagree (and don't wish to ever agree) would move elsewhere. This would also encourage people of the same philosophy to immigrate because I'm sure there are many people out there who feel lost/illfit in this world but are unable to/don't articulate it or have an outlet for it. The initial "immigrants" would be key. That's why it'd be nice for it to occur in a state like NH or Vermont because they already have a nice libertarian core to serve as a foundation. Of course, a libertarian does not a communitarian make, but just intuitively I feel that many within the ranks would be persuaded by my argument advocating agreement and accountability through honest, rational discourse. They don't want to be accountable to gov't about their personal beliefs, and I'm not suggesting that this would happen: I'm proposing an accountability to each other, and ourselves, as to how we rationally justify these beliefs.

A big question to be answered prior to this new paradigm's implementation is whether government's function should also include promoting forums for such discourse to take place within. Should gov't facilitate agreement? I don't know. This would seem too close to force. Maybe I should rephrase. Should gov't remove barriers to agreement? But are there actual government produced barriers or barriers capable of gov't removal. Or is it a much more ethereal, unknown cause requiring some other kind of change? To legislate or use judicial means would contradict libertarian principles, that'd be big gov't. And for the people to demand change and be successful, it would have to be a large number of people, probably large enough to where agreement would have already been reached and gov't would be unneeded. Again, I go back to the core group argument. It would have to be a grassroots effort type thing where people recognize a common experience of the world and just join up, either moving to the state like that hypothetical or just simply by action, holding people accountable: asking Why?, staying free from detrimental bias, and engaging in rational dialogue.

A key element in attaining this unity or agreement (besides agreeing that agreement is possible) is a recognition that biology holds the answer to our general purpose, and the ultimate fate of our species depends on acknowledging this evolutionary edict: How will homo sapiens respond and adapt to the environment of Reason, of Emotion, of Love, of Hate, of Choice, of Consciousness, of our ridiculously, ridiculously, ridiculously, complex and powerful brain? In this way, I think that the evolutionary question facing homo sapiens is the same as it was 2000 years ago and really probably 100,000 years ago. Or would the epoch have begun when the first humans left the cave, overcame fear of the beasts, began making tools, and began living in communities of interdependence and specialization? It doesn't matter really; the key is that all these advancements which were critical in human evolution came primarily as a result of the brain. I don't have great hope for science's full understanding of the brain anytime soon, but that doesn't mean we all can't act responsibly and take biology as perhaps the only neutral standard of value out there. (And conflicting standards of value are really the problem at the root of the disagreement issue. Individuals enter discourse with them, and there is a presupposition within each as to the conclusion that should be reached. There are different streams of rational justification, across which agreement is impossible because each values different concepts)

Different biologists obviously reach different conclusions from the same results, but I guess I just mean looking at ourselves from a level which maybe very few would disagree with: Our brain gives us the ability to reason, feel, and choose. Our brain produces consciousness, our base of operations from which we compile our experience of the world and where reasoning takes place. Human beings feel and think with incredible variation, without significant limitation to previous modes of each, and use each in choosing how best to act. Individual human beings have the capacity for an autonomy so far beyond any other species. Every species must adapt to environments as well as deal with consequences from previous adaptations and genetic developments. We must adapt to the environment and conditions created by the brain. We must realize that we create and destroy much like the characteristics ascribed to the gods. Our will is constantly manifesting itself and surmounting nature in myriad forms. We must realize most are born with tremendous possibility; we are not inherently good or bad; intelligent or stupid; we exist, then we become what we will be; existence precedes essence. Our lives should be consumed, not with consumption of products, but with moving ourselves from potential to actual, with actualizing the god potential within us all.

"We ought not to follow the proverb writers, and 'think human, since you are human', or 'think mortal, since you are mortal'. Rather, as far as we can, we ought to be pro-immortal, and go to all lengths to live a life that expresses our supreme element; for however much this element may lack in bulk, by much more it surpasses everything in power and value (Aristotle, Ethics, 1177b34-1178a3)."

I really don't think that the mediocre, as we know it, must exist. Of course, it is a relative saying; in an excellent world, there would still be something which is far greater than our best but less than the most excellent of the day. Hopefully, by then, mediocre will have become an archaic concept. There will be things which are 'more excellent' or 'less excellent', but there won't be a need to use the comparative qualifier. Comparisons are odious, especially at the top: a more evolved homo sapien will not need a contrived reassurance of his worth through some constant Olympic medal platform.

Ownership of our mind is the greatest freedom we are capable of enjoying. In this case, "a little bit pregnant" is a valid answer: complete freedom is impossible; we are finite, fallible beings contingent upon fate, luck, the environment. Whatever word is chosen, the concept remains the same: there is another variable in the Reality equation which constrains, acquiesces, or some hybrid thereof when added to our will. The best we can do is ground our actions on strong beliefs/knowledge claims and evaluate how best to enact our will in combination with nature to bring about the desired result. Autonomy is wrought from the birthing pains of holding oneself accountable for not only acting in accordance with one's standard of value and creating a standard of value that is your own, not derived from church, state, family, friends, any externality; but mostly from keeping emotion and bias largely excluded from decision making as well as not allowing oneself to become an instrument to another's will.

But let's start with self-reflection, an art really, which is the mode of existence making both of the above possible. No more excuses. No more bias. No more tyranny of the moment. No more quick fixes. No more silencing our inner voice with pleasure, money, or power. You can't take it with you, and it needs constant refills: the relationships you have with other people, the effect your mind has on human progress, those are long-lasting and flow directly from our essence, and are therefore the most worthwhile pursuits of a human being. The happiness derived from pleasure, money, and power is always depleting and thus requires a constant influx of new materials. Learning all the time. Loving the people around you, enjoying them for who they are and not for what they bring you. These are the most basic components of an ethical life. These naturally manifest what the Greeks called eudaimonia. Commonly mistranslated as happiness, the Greeks probably saw it as such but to equate it with modern 'happiness' would be to denigrate the word, allowing all sorts of modern people to inappropriately appropriate it for their own usage. Eudaimonia is human flourishing. Flourishing is not a short term fix; it is a period of consistent growth with no necessary end. How do human beings flourish? A life of learning and love which strives to avoid stagnation should suffice.

The Interrogative as Thought Propeller/Therapy/Uncertainty Special Interest Group

Why?

Why do some people ask, "Why?", while others don't?

What are you thinking?

When will people realize autonomy is the only way to any long-lasting, worthwhile happiness?
What is 'worthwhile happiness'?

What (if any) are the common roots to my false perceptions?

How can I change myself to be "better", more real, more in tune with that indefinable music in my head?

What are everyone's unheard, unarticulated, innermost, most private thoughts?
Why do they remain hidden (to themselves)?

How can we remove the barriers, the Floydian Walls, between one another and our experience of the world?

What, really, on an essential level, is the difference between you and me?
Is it all encompassed in the concepts of code and environment?
Are these differences almost immaterial in the light of similarities? What should be the balance?
Is it as simple as the environmental forces which acted on us?
If all environments were equal, how big of a role does genetics really play, not in terms of specifics but general actualization of the human essence potential?
Is it all perception, a simple by-product of our ability/propensity to distinguish between two objects?

In a normal day, do I compare or contrast more

What would a world without religion be like?

How does the brain "create" consciousness?

What would the world be like at this exact point in time if human beings had never existed, had never departed ways with the other primates?

What was that first day like, that first moment, when the first primate exited the cave, became social, began to think?
How associated with the development of tools, manipulating the environment, was this exit/entrance?
What were communities like when Man lived in caves?

If it could be implemented seamlessly or practically seamless, how would man at the present stage of development (of reason etc) react to the ideas of Plato and Aristotle?
Are we more ready/built for their ideas now?

Who was the first rich man? What was he like? Was he magnanimous? Or was he corrupt?

Is there another planet capable of supporting life?
Is the ecosystem on Earth the only system where "life" can exist?
If so, would these Earth-like planets yield similar results?
Would it be like Earth but a different run of the simulation, so to speak?
Am I talking about parallel universes, wherein the same general things happen but the particulars are different e.g. I am a standup comedian, scientist, philosopher, or even tennis player?
How similar are parallel universes?
Could I have been anything other than I am?
What influence on the world does my will have?
How can maximize it?
What are those characteristics that directly constrain maximizing will?
When will is maximized, how can I direct my will towards the best possible ends?

What is freedom?
How contingent is freedom upon the realization that it exists?
Can I ever really draw my own portrait within modern society?

How will human beings react to the "environment" of freedom, reason, and complex emotion?
Is this the evolutionary period of the last 10,000 years or more, determining where the species goes from here? We face a test; other species follow biological edicts to adapt to their environment, why not us?
Or is this like the situation of someone like me in high school: in many ways I was prepared to advance to the next level well before the ascribed time but I was stuck. likewise, are People Like Me stuck in high school forever so to speak in that we must always be at the same basic level of advancement because of the restrictions of society; not everyone is ready to advance. This time we live in is the High School of Human Evolution. Perhaps in a future time, "I" would be more of a common occurrence but right here and now I am prototype almost.

How do I unring Pavlovian bells?
To what extent can we study habit's physical effect on brain wiring and, further, the effects and process of acting to change entrenched habits
How is this related to what I would call reductionist crime of looking to the brain's processes as the cause and not the effect, or calling the wagging tail the dog.

What is the largest scale in which a truly libertarian community would work?
What is exact overlap between libertarianism and liberalism?

Will we in the West ever agree that agreement itself is possible and desirable?
Should the purpose of government be to facilitate a) education/freedom of the people and b) means of agreement
Massive HN question implicit here: Are our disagreements natural and is it absurd to consider agreement, even on a general level, to be attainable?
How general or specific can independently reached, unforced agreement be?

Why do women prefer assholes?
Is this a corollary of the Confidence Theory i.e. assholes are indifferent to perception, or at least act in such a manner, and this indifference is perceived as confidence in themselves: they are so sure of themselves to the
point of megalomania and solipsism?

Can we agree on a universal good?
Can we come together as reasonable, autonomous people and devote our efforts within society towards understanding and enacting the best methods for the maximization of human
potential?
How can we develop the requisite level of aforementioned reasonable, autonomous people?
What kind of universal standard of rational justification would be able to provide the necessary framework of open, unbiased dialogue between actors interested in truth for its own value, not as a mean but an end in itself, and without prejudicial interest in maintaining already entrenched beliefs/knowledge claims, so that we can a) agree on this as a goal and b) what human potential means.
interested in fulfilling unite, coming together to both set ourselves apart from the homogenous, slack jawed masses and recognize the essential,
powerful levels in which we self-developed, autonomous share
Before all this is possible, must we agree on a universal framework for rational justification or a universal standard of value?
Would this become actualized if no one made knowledge claims based on faith?
Can the justification framework or universal standard be the human good
Are they inextricably related/contingent
Can we agree that agreement is possible?

Biological edicts or man-made standards?
Are those things whose origin can be traced to man inherently of less value, impure; as if they bear the burden of proof, must prove their value?
How does Reason as a tool for identification taint the tracing process?
Or any thought process which is biased, is this necessarily not Reason, the work of Emotion?
Reason is pure: is this merely theoretical; does it ever manifest itself in this pure form? (inductive logic and syllogisms)
What is the better part of us: Reason or Emotion?
By what standard can we evaluate this without inherently assuming as true that which we are attempting to prove?
Is there a standard of evaluation available that is neutral, objective (as close as humanly possible)?
Does reducing it to biology take away some of problems of subjectivity, creating a broad enough standard that people across vastly differing and competing belief justification systems are able to come to consensus or at the least have productive
discourse?

To be continued...

Prosecutorial Power

The power of the prosecutor's discretion is discussed at length here with the Genarlow Wilson case. The dude was sentenced to 10 years for consensual oral sex. It's cases like this that are a huge motivation to practice law on that side of things. Then again the massive debt incurred in law school could change that. Ha. But I like to think I am better than that, that I will do the right thing regardless of money or future earnings. The future will be what it is; my freedom to act as I deem proper has a limited impact on reality, there are so many other participants and environmental influences who have a hand in it. I can only act in a manner befitting my knowledge and standards.

The Big Hurt Hits 500

I guess I'll break out of my malaise and celebrate The Big Hurt, Frank Thomas' 500th career home run. Six foot five and a little under 1/7 of a ton, the man was the best right handed hitter in the 1990's (Average season: 185 hits, 36 HR, 123 RBI, .320 BA, 127 BB, 103 R). From 1991 to 1997, in each season Frank hit at least .300, 30 HR, 100 RBI, 100 BB, and 100 Runs Scored. The only players in baseball history to equal these standards are legends Lou Gehrig, Ted Williams, and the now tarnished Jason Giambi - and they only matched them for four consecutive seasons. Not only was he a feared power hitter, he was a fantastic contact hitter and possessed one of the best eyes in the league, evidenced by his high batting average and walk totals. Also, it wasn't until 2002 that his K totals surpassed his BB totals, and in the 90's only eclipsed the 100 barrier once in 1991 (112), a season where he amassed 138 BB's. His career OBP of .423 ranks him 16th all-time and 3rd among active players. His career OPS (which is really a strong indicator of overall offensive worth) of .985 ranks 11th all-time. 'Hurt' also has two league MVP awards, which he won in back-to-back fashion in '93 and '94, and really should have won a third award in 2001 given the steroid revelations of winner Jason Giambi. That third award would have all but guaranteed his enshrinement in Cooperstown as no three time winner is not in the HOF (the list includes Yogi Berra, Roy Campanella, Joe DiMaggio, Jimmie Foxx, Mickey Mantle, and Mike Schmidt). But despite this, and despite his full-time DH-hood (hasn't played 1B more than 49 games since '97 when he played 97), it's pretty clear the man is a first ballot HOF on the basis of his hitting merits alone. And of course, there's always the fact that there are absolutely no steroid suspicions clouding the perception of his perfomance: Frank's always been a massive human being.

Congrats, big man. I'm still going to name my first born son Frank Thomas Lazaroff. I'm willing to trade the rights to years of marital decisions for this. Guess I just need to find a woman who'll have me, but don't worry Frank I'm not going to put a blemish on this exciting day by going "there". You were a massive part of my childhood and will always be my favorite baseball player of all-time. I still tear up when I watch the video of your speech at the World Series Rally. Moving stuff, man. I wish you could have hit 500 in a Sox uniform, but such is the world we live in. We can't always get what we want.

I Will Concede the Small Presence of Paranoia, If You Will Drop the Android Accusations

I have a request on the books for an upload of a live rendition of Radiohead's 'Paranoid Android'. So, enjoy. Here'tis. Straight from the Pinkpop '97 show in the Netherlands. download Lyrics

(I went with an OK Computer era show. I'm right in the heart of a brutal grieving period and Thom's voice during the middle "rain down" section is especially beautiful and moving in this show. It fuckin' kills me. In a good way though. It's like pouring some hydrogen peroxide on a fresh, open wound. The initial seconds are a rush of chaos and pain. Quickly though there is some metamorphosis/transition from pain to healing. Jonny's guitar work is still immaculate as always. It's just a gorgeous recording in general.)

I must say that I do not think that the post was terribly paranoid. I may be paranoid but at least I'm not an android, eh? I process. I feel. I do what I think is right. My human voice and spirit hasn't been completely diluted. I treat every situation as brand new and unique. That's all you can ask for out of a human being.

If you try the best you can, the best you can is good enough

Optimistic (Warrington 2000) lyrics download

You could play the lyrical tangent game all the way throughout their entire catalog. It's a beautiful philosophical, musical web.

How (to Try) to Be The Perfect Human (or How to Appear Completely)

The shortest distance between two points is a straight line.

The solution with the fewest assumptions and contingencies is usually the correct one. Occam's Razor.

My life...not so much. Dense fog and cliffs. Desert mirage's like scenes out of "You've Got Mail". Endings that come at me like beginnings. Beginnings that appear as endings.

The fruits of navigating the labyrinth of interpersonal relationships while trying to maintain a modicum of emotional and intellectual honesty. Not to mention, self-respect.

But that's asking too much. That is putting honesty on a pedestal it can't possibly reach. I don't know why, exactly. And that is the soul crushing part about it.

And there I go. Off into the forest where I will no doubt wallow and weep. I'm there right now, even as I claim not to be. Try as I might, I can't lie to myself. I was just about to try and claim detachment - or, worse, actual contentment - but I am incapable of lying to myself. I am aware of every single decision I make and every decision I abdicate.

Is this level of self-awareness and regulation healthy? It sure is burdensome. But that's alright. I can accept that there is some pain on the path to Eudaimonia. How could there not be? Right. Of course.

I got nothing. I'm writing to try and figure out a way to cope. And it's not coming. But that's ok. I guess it has to be. Maybe acceptance is better wrought through inactivity or not actually consciously thinking and accepting. That sounds a lot like some psychobabble bullshit to me. The bullshit detector is going fucking crazy. But then again, it's been doing that a lot lately. Could be broken. That'd be a bitch, wouldn't it? I probably wouldn't even know it was misfiring. The shapes on the wall would appear as they always do. Real.

Fuck it, though. It's the best chance I have. At what I don't know. But I have to believe myself that it's there. If it's not, then what's the point? If Jane isn't who and what I know her to be, is it suicide from there? Nah. A little too melodramatic and final for my tastes.

The joy of the state I have reached is this: I can't doubt Jane. Not because my future well-being is so distinctly tied to her decisions. No. And not because I simply wave away mounds of evidence to the contrary. There is no ignorance on my part whatsoever.

I know her, man. I don't need to plant memories at the scene of the crime to conjure up happy thoughts. I've experienced her for the last year of my life. I hung on, accepting the Platonic Love that was never more readily available. But it's too important to not stay the way it's been. It's like the puppy who has out grown its cage. We need more space to stretch out our bodies and minds and play.

The most effective coping/understanding/living comes through when I go back to basics: What do I know? Why do I know it? Am I making any assumptions? Am I dismissing anything as negligible? Is it? Am I doing my utmost to understand the world and the people around me? Am I living in tune with all of this music in my head? Am I living with authenticity and purpose?

These are not all "knowable" in the same way I can demonstrate the effect of gravity. Solace is mine despite this. I trust myself. I trust the people I care about. Or else what's the point?

Fantastic Four: The Best Screenplay Ever!

I'm serious. A movie is pretty much a guaranteed success with gems like this one

How do you fight something that eats planets?

I mean, the epistemological, metaphysical, existential, and most importantly, strategical questions posed by this one question are pretty limitless. How can you stop something that eats your environment whole, like a rattlesnake does a mouse. Heavy shit.

And, actually, am I going absolutely batshit, wasn't this slated for release months ago? I feel like I went through this same exact thought process eons ago. Smart move, Fox, I hope you added more philosophical gems to what I'm sure is a masterpiece in schlocky, pretty average cinema that distracts from more important issues and further deadens the masses ability to be human beings.

Thanks in advance.

Is Understanding the Lack of American Success at Roland Garros the Key to Solving Our Cultural Apathy?

Couldn't resist commenting on this article I just saw on the front page of ESPN.com . The attention getting question went like this

The French Open starts Sunday and yet, for fans of U.S. players, it almost seems as if the tournament is over before it begins. Why is it Americans no longer are willing to get their hands dirty?

Ummm...I think it would help to maybe acknowledge that this affliction is not limited to American tennis players. (Of course, it was ESPN..but still...) This is just another instance of our societal sickness. Let's look at the war in Iraq. (What a seamless transition!) First of all, we were sheltered by our government and told to go on living in the manner we had become accustomed: consume, consume, consume. Now it's debatable whether or not the war in Iraq is capable of being won using a military strategy, but it is less debatable that the public support waned as soon as it got the least bit costly. Interestingly, the same people who criticized George H.W. Bush for allowing Saddam to stay in power following his retreat from Kuwait, now criticize George W. Bush for agreeing with their position. What changed? Say what you will about lack of WMD's, impossibility of democracy, or poor planning and execution, but removing Saddam still achieved the humanitarian victory which was called for by those who currently criticize the war. People are dying now, but the hope is that, in retrospect, their lives will have been lost in the natural birthing pains of democracy. My goal is not to support or lampoon the war. I happen to think the war was probably doomed from the start, at least with respect to the publicly articulated goals, but it was a sticky situation: diplomacy and deterrence had wrought the Taliban, Saddam's Iraq, and 9/11. My point is to show that there is no consistency of principles among those who scream the loudest, the standard by which we usually have discourse. If there is one consistency, it is in people's tendency to waver and choose the most convenienent path that asks the least of them. Another interesting situation is in Darfur. Many of the same people who supported the overthrow of Saddam in 1991 wish for the United States to enter Darfur and end the genocide. How long would their support last once 5000 Americans died? Any action in Darfur would almost have to be through the UN and that requires Chinese support which is unlikely since they depend on Sudan for oil and oppose interventionist policies .

We are the kind of people that memorize without learning, act without thinking, and live without a self-defined purpose. We don't want anything to break the threshold of our pampered existence. We take the easy over the hard, the superficial over the deep, and relax on our couch enjoying the latest American Idol finale. In the words of Chuck Klosterman, we are killing ourselves to live. In a way, it doesn't matter if the terrorists follow us home or not. We're dead either way.

I feel like quoting Nietzsche from "Thus Spake Zarathustra"

Just see these superfluous ones! They steal the works of the inventors and the treasures of the wise. Culture, they call their theft - and everything becometh sickness and trouble unto them!


Just see these superfluous ones! Sick are they always; they vomit their bile and call it a newspaper. They devour one another, and cannot even digest themselves.


Just see these superfluous ones! Wealth they acquire and become poorer thereby. Power they seek for, and above all, the lever of power, much money - these impotent ones!


See them clamber, these nimble apes! They clamber over one another, and thus scuffle into the mud and the abyss.

A Radiohead Influenced Philosophical Excursion (Not an Uncommon Event)

Thom Yorke keeps insisting to me that "just 'cause you feel it, doesn't mean it's there", but I can't get it through my thick fucking skull into my brain. (linky link to live version of There There)

This is the exact problem of the human condition: emotions, unregulated by reason, masquerade as truth. We think because we experience a particular feeling that it necessarily exists out in the world, outside of our mind; but this is often not the case. There are plenty of ways this could occur, but for the average human being the main environment is interpersonal relationships. This is a place full of fog and cliffs in every direction. I feel like I'm wrong nearly all the time. Every time I fall it is completely shocking, it's like I act with no body of previous experience to reflect on. That's alright, I think. Yeah, life is easier when we base the future on the past, but it seems this ease is also problematic.

To use Hume's example, I am not suggesting that one should doubt the sun will rise tomorrow in the face of all empirical knowledge. The assumption that the sun will rise again every morning permeats our existence. How would we live our lives if we doubted tomorrow's existence? For me, that is right up there with Nietzche's Eternal Recurrence of the Same (we should live our life as if we would be repeating the same exact life course for eternity) and Sartre's thought that the ethical life can be found by the individual in the question of universalization (What would be the effect of everyone acting as I act?) I guess a criticism of my question might be that it borders on the cliched "live today, like you're gonna die tomorrow." I think this is a fair point, however, it doesn't detract from the power of my statement in view of human being's lack of urgency. We are here for a limited amount of time and are blessed by nature with the ability to be aware of it. Shouldn't that be a propulsion for people to live well? An 'ought' does not an 'is' or 'must' make. Ideally, this would be case but if we're honestly trying to give an accurate picture of human behavior, it is far too idealistic. It assumes that people have enough self-knowledge to know when they are bullshitting, rationalizing, entering the spin zone, whatever you want to call it. Inside our own minds the craziest shit can seem to be true, and the next day we can believe the exact opposite! It is not easy.

Should convenience ever be involved in major discussions? When choosing which Jewel to go to, this is a perfect standard. If both Jewels are equal in everything else of value, then it's a no brainer: pick the most convenient location. And that's fine. There is no reason to waste time here with meaningless analysis. If everything is equal, most people will choose the closer store. But what about in matters of interpersonal relations or substantial life decisions? Should we do whatever is easiest, ignoring voices imploring us to explore a more difficult course of change? The answer has nothing to do with these questions. We should do what we think is right without regard for ease or difficulty. How do we decide the right course? (Hint: There's no formula) And how is this related to where I started with misleading emotions?

Oh yeah. Emotion must obey Reason. See Aristotle's Ethics.

There seems to be also another irrational element in the soul -- one which in a sense, however, shares in a rational principle. For we praise the rational principle of the continent man and of the incontinent, and the part of their soul that has such a principle, since it urges them aright and towards the best objects; but there is found in them also another element naturally opposed to the rational principle, which fights against and resists that principle. For exactly as paralysed limbs when we intend to move them to the right turn on the contrary to the left, so is it with the soul; the impulses of incontinent people move in contrary directions. But while in the body we see that which moves astray, in the soul we do not. No doubt, however, we must none the less suppose that in the soul too there is something contrary to the rational principle, resisting and opposing it. In what sense it is distinct from the other elements does not concern us. Now even this seems to have a share in a rational principle, as we said; at any rate in the continent man it obeys the rational principle and presumably in the temperate and brave man it is still more obedient; for in him it speaks, on all matters, with the same voice as the rational principle.

Therefore the irrational element also appears to be two-fold. For the vegetative element in no way shares in a rational principle, but the appetitive and in general the desiring element in a sense shares in it, in so far as it listens to and obeys it; this is the sense in which we speak of 'taking account' of one's father or one's friends, not that in which we speak of 'accounting for a mathematical property. That the irrational element is in some sense persuaded by a rational principle is indicated also by the giving of advice and by all reproof and exhortation. And if this element also must be said to have a rational principle, that which has a rational principle (as well as that which has not) will be twofold, one subdivision having it in the strict sense and in itself, and the other having a tendency to obey as one does one's father.

The First Night

Last night, I was smoking a cigarette in the parking lot of my hotel, sitting on a partition. The next day held quite a bit of power but it was ambiguous: triumph or tragedy? I was unpacking the possibilities of various hypothetical scenarios when I looked straight out, over the edge of the wall, and became quite still with rapture. The moon was obviously in its crescent stage but it was out of focus; its color and form blurred chaotically with the squinting of my eyes. I sat there for half a minute with my mind motionless.

The shape in the sky appeared progressively brighter and closer. From my seat around the tires, this was certainly not the moon anymore. If not the moon, then what? Is this an asteroid science has somehow missed? Am I losing my fucking mind? Is it full blown dementia from here on out? I rushed forward to the railing. I needed resolution. What was this unidentified, amorphous object, floating in space, hurtling itself closer and closer to the moment when it would be the cause of my death?

I looked out above the now visible interstate and saw a dark mass of clouds floating quickly over my head, conforming my perception of the moon to its own will.

Hey, 'Just for Men', Find a Tailpipe and Suck...

(...to paraphrase the great Bill Hicks.)

Is "Just for Men" serious with this ad? Is there really a strong link between hair turning gray and being fired? Well, apparently they think so. I guess that's the way of the corporate world.

"Will people still see me as a valuable player? Is my career going down?:

This is a superb example of irrational marketing playing on the fears of the consumer. It can only exist in a superficial society like our own where emotions rule over reason. Men probably do equate graying hair with aging, loss of virility, or power, but this thought is not founded. There is no real link between gray hair and any of those possibilities. It just happens to have that social connotation. A correlation is not a cause. But the fact does remain that the thought exists within the minds of men, it's real to them. Maybe it is because emotion is allowed to reign over reason, or maybe there is some other cause, a natural insecurity. Either way, this ad capitalizes on that fear.

The underlying thought here is that man, at his essence, is a rational, emotional animal who must use the former to regulate the latter. They are both equally capable of expressing man's excellence, but emotion must obey reason for the simple fact that it provides some sort of filter on the world. Without reason, emotion rules without purpose. Reason provides direction to emotion. That's the basic thought I'm working from. So, man has this inherent battle. If we take it from birth, it would seem intuitively correct to say that the conflict would exist regardless of any environmental influence. Which way is it leaning at birth? I have no idea. That's probably a genetic issue. Ok. It doesn't really matter though if there are predispositions in either direction. It's either pretty even or skewed. How each of these capacities are nurtured determines the extent to which we move from potential to actual. It's the defining question of our existence. Not determined by some book but revealed simply by looking at the basic capabilities which separate us from the rest of nature. It's our consciousness reflecting on its own cause. I can't think of anything more natural.

Bringing this back to the Just for Men ad, is it in our best interest as a species to provide environmental influences which stack the deck against reason?

But Steve maybe it is true that people will judge your competency based on the color of your hair? In this case, wouldn't it be perfectly appropriate, and even ethical, to impart this message to consumers?

Nice try, and way to divert the conversation to ethics, but it doesn't matter if it is a true reflection of human behavior. All that matters is that the ad plays directly to the emotionally thinking consumer; there is no evidence, only rhetoric. It's not as if there is some strict rule banning gray hair. If this did exist, then the thought process resulting in the decision to use hair coloring would be reasonable and not driven by emotion since it would be grounded in the desired end of keeping one's job.

If there is such widespread discrimination against graying hair maybe we need a special interest group protecting the rights of men with gray, charcoal, and white hair. Better yet, and the facetious part is over, we need a special interest group protecting all of humanity. That would seem to defy the rules governing special interest groups, though. Namely, that the emphasis is on our unified capacity for reason, emotion, self-awareness, and community, but, not focused on the segmentation and splintering of society according to our beliefs or historical and genetic differences.

There is very little questioning today, aside from mostly partisan political discussion. Everything is just accepted as the best possible scenario. We are so goddamned content. We're Rip van Fucking Winkle. Ahhh..the joy of modernity. (Deep exhale of exasperation) I'm very underwhelmed by these "great" things man has done. Yes, I think technological advancement and recreational time are absolutely essential for a successful civilization, and we have some cool toys. And, of course there have been significant strides towards true freedom for every individual. It's this paradigm of Consumerism that has me worried. We love the meaningless.

I've been asking myself some variation of this question for the past few years: Isn't there more to human freedom than the ability to purchase? Or for that matter the disgusting attempts by individuals making others an instrument to their will. It makes me sick the way our freedom is squandered. We are complicit in our obsolescence, but our blame is small. By the time we are able to pick up the pen and start really directing our own lives, there are major blows to perception of the world like middle and high school. It's very difficult for well nurtured children to go through high school and not become affected by their infected classmates. Speaking from personal experience, my view of human nature was completely destroyed. Ruined my life. But you adjust (one of the two facts of life, along with death) with the aid of reason and move on, learning.

We need to maximize everything that promotes learning and minimize anything that injures it. There are enough obstacles as it is. Nature poses the same evolutionary question to us that the Greeks and Romans faced 2,000 years ago: Towards what end is our reason directed? The way we deal with our capacity for rationality determines the ultimate fate of our species. Can we agree on this? Can we at least talk about it a little?

This I Believe: On Writing

Language is communicated in two ways: through the vibrations of vocal cords, or speech, and the physical, written form of transferring ideas from abstract to concrete.

I write to better understand my world. I write to harness a vague emotion or thought process, and convert it into a more universal format, speculating on possible consequences and questions. I write to better understand my understanding. I write to express the beauty and ugliness ever present in the human experience.

I believe that conversation is important. We are naturally social beings and it is a prerequisite for any success within our representative democracy that honest, open, and rational discourse exist among the citizens. Writing lays the foundation for solid self-knowledge which, in turn, slicks the wheels for ethical interpersonal communication.

Most speech has two or more participants; there is usually at least one listener. There is always a shot clock, a very finite, immediate amount of time to develop an appropriate response. In writing, this is not the case. It is mostly a contemplative, solitary activity with temporal pressures coming not from the immediate presence of another but from Death, deadlines, or inner discipline. Decreased immediacy in this case means increased time. Increased time allows for tighter editing. Many opportunities to alter, fix, and refine pave the road to a more objective truth. The writer strives to provide the most authentic and complete view of the world as possible.

I write to better understand myself, those around me, and the world we all co-habitat. It isn’t easy or immediately clear, but I believe that The Most Complete Human exercises his capacity to write for writing as such and to further test and determine any weak or limited areas that can be improved in the name of the whole. The sum of all the individual parts should be quite a bit less than the work as a singular, unified whole. Each sentence should add meaning and value. Each sentence should work towards the same end, the same end that ignited action in the first place: the expression of truth.

Whether it’s to change a paradigm and get in the way or if it is a more aesthetic need to express Beauty, I feel a propulsion to write that is painful to ignore and difficult to begin. I believe that I write for the same reasons I think, love, and live: because I have to. I believe that writing is an ethical imperative.

The Misanthropic Humanitarian, or, A Double Murder in Late 21st Century Los Angeles, or, We are All Red

He stood over their lukewarm, dead bodies. His eyes laughed in an ironic, bittersweet way. But to look at him, his face revealed nothing.

They lay before him – the “Movie Star” and the “Fugly Bitch”. “Society calls you this,” he said aloud, walking around them slowly, conversationally. “You each wore your own crown of thorns, your own shame: you both felt the pain of judgment. You each wanted the same things. I will show you to them.”

He worked for four hours. It had to be immaculate. He had no joie de vivre save the small sense of happiness when his aspirations of perfection really did result with everything in its right place.

The man removed the skin, and cleaned up the area, leaving only the clean, red muscle.

He looked down at them and spoke once again. “Man is an animal that hopes for both too much and too little. We are drowning in the baby pool of our possibilities. This will not change anything.”

Violently, he dropped to his knees, filled with self-hatred and love. He cried out, “Where was it? Where was progress? Some feeling that people were who they seemed. That they didn’t just cultivate the most pragmatic persona possible. That there was unity and not discord…Emily! I’ll be with you soon, honey. If there is something…You were the only real human connection I ever felt…it’s tragic that tragedy is so indiscriminate...” He collapsed in a ball and wept. He felt sadness.

“FREEDOM! Psssh.” He sat up and leaned against the side of one of the gurneys. “A means of expressing disagreement or justification without any personal accountability.” He rallied a bit. Equilibrium. He walked steadily around his work room. Confidence. He smiled, flashing what he knew others to experience as his “winning smile”. Deception is a bitch, he mused.

Hamlet burst into his consciousness and said, “What a piece of work is man..” and faded out. He didn’t finish the rest. Maybe he was too tired. Maybe he never meant the rest. The man roared with laughter. He enjoyed the sword of double, triple, quadruple edges, even as it broke his soul for the last time.

He looked from the canvas to the gurneys back to the canvas. “Is this senseless? Or is this the greatest act of humanity I am capable of?”

CLICK. The tape recorder stopped loudly and the man’s voice was no longer heard. His words hovered in the air. Homeless. For a time? Forever?

The two detectives looked at each other and then, once again, at the tableau-d landscape before them. Two female bodies. Leaned up against one another, like they were laying out, relaxing at the beach. Stripped of their skin’s identity, reduced to the dead-though-throbbing red of their muscle. The woman on the left read Milton’s “Paradise Lost.” The other’s head was inclined to the ceiling, a beautiful counterfeit of Michelangelo’s Garden of Eden from the Sistine Chapel.

In the next room, the man swung from side to side. His body limp. His neck broken. Dostoevsky’s Ridiculous Man lay open on the table, waiting for an introduction.

Three Weeks Later

A Thought Train:

Happiness to pain to enjoyable pain? I don’t know but that seems to be my progression. It is truly as if the pain I feel has always been the most real thing, the landscape on which all other events take place. I don’t know what it indicates: my lack of success or that pain really is more real than pleasure.

She is a new landscape and a new canvas. The possibilities escape my understanding and I am unaware. She destroys the whole goddamn paradigm with a look. Again and again she does this. ‘Flourishing’, that’s the word. In the world Jane made for me, I am actually pursuing happiness. I’m not following a theory of what I think happiness should be. I am not the product of my history. I am the product of her: she actualizes me, takes me from floating possibilities to one cohesive whole.

When a theory, or hope, long considered ‘probably true’ turns to reality, it is still an astonishing event. Oddly enough, I reacted unlike I have of late: I was myself. I didn’t worry about how my words were being received. I knew that they were finding a home and that was enough. I was finding a home. A place of comfort and familiarity, typically called a ‘home’, right? I am at home wherever I am at, as long as it is with her.

I don’t know what I expect from myself. I don’t know what she is thinking. All I know is that this the first time I have felt alive in a very long time. And it’s her. I don’t have to translate my words before speaking. I don’t have to worry about loss of interest. I don’t have to worry that I am speaking with a person who cares. I don’t have to worry about being myself.

Pain does settle in around the edges, never seriously breaching the happiness. My joy – Our Joy – is there. It cannot be touched by any outside influence. It’s been said that connections like these – rooted in a spiritual, mental connection – are rare. I know it to be true, but, still, it is bizarre and I think counterintuitive. We are rational, emotional animals. At the forefront of the former is of course our ability to Reason, and, the latter is some combination of Love/Empathy/Compassion. So, if we are naturally animals who have as our essential characteristics the ability to think critically at high levels and the ability to love, why is it so difficult to reach people, to experience people on these levels? Why are we so eager to take the impostor over the real thing? How can we not know the difference? I don’t understand how the lie is told, and I don’t understand how others don’t have the same voice nagging at them, exhorting them to do the right thing.

There is an incredible capacity for recognizing Beauty, but at what point is the line blurred between “Beauty” and just liking something on a completely superficial basis. Is the guy who only goes home with 'dimes' or ‘nines’ a lover of Beauty? I don’t think so. This is why we have proper and common nouns. He likes beautiful women, he does not love Beauty. Beauty is found all over the place – the cloud formations we anthropomorphize as we stare out the car window, the happy eyes of a laughing child, the realization that We are a crack in the massive pavement that is society.

Beauty is not strictly sensory. The way she moves her hands as she speaks, conducting her words to work in the exact manner she wishes. Yes, I am viewing the act with my eyes. You got me. But what my eyes take in isn’t purely beautiful, it needs language to accompany it. And the words. Spoken with honesty and intelligence, her whole face is involved…there is no filter – from her earnest, unflinching blue eyes to her huge radiant smile. She does not hold back. She is both startling and completely matter of fact. How could she be so unique? How could she live in this world and turn out the way she did? How could she be anything other than this?

I don’t think there are answers to these questions, but the fact that they exist at all is the most unexpected, joyous plot twist of my life.

Character Sketch Revisited

His lips were pursed as if his smile were a real liability. Where the mouth’s theatrics were successful, the rest of his face failed. His active brows sharply rising with surprise, thought trains chug chugging along, rerouting themselves with a new destination and new tracks to get there. His green eyes scanned the relatively small room, devouring his environment whole, digesting it through the brain to the brows, and passing its uncontainable agreement, questioning, or disgust along to the once stoic mouth. His dark brown hair was perfectly in place, in stark contrast to the bulk of his life.

When he was younger, before he felt The Weight, Scott had a laugh that was rich with authentic emotion. Many considered him the verifiable definition of a “man-child.” Such was his delight in life, even as a young adult. They envied him for this but genuinely delighted in his presence: He opened up for others a part of the Self severely constrained by modern society. Conversation with Scott was highly interactive. There was a pervasive theme of transcendence, a rising above the amalgamation of preconceived notions that comprise our day-to-day baggage. He very rarely felt satisfied with the status quo, his brain would not allow it: too many contingencies unaccounted for, to many questions still left to pose. In others, this quality may have manifested itself differently, but in Scott it only illuminated his absolutely earnest nature.

Scott Fitzgerald Socrates Porter was born to Laura and Thomas Porter on the day Ronald Reagan was inaugurated as the 40th President of the United States of America. This has no other real significance save that James would grow up with an aversion to most actors (not acting as such, but actors with whom he came into contact) and at the age of six remarked to his mother concerning President Reagan, “Mommy, couldn’t an actor just act and pretend to everyone he a great person?” Smiling, equal parts sadness and joy for she had an inkling of the future, she had said that the President was no different than anyone else: “everyone acts differently than they are and proclaims their own greatness to whoever will listen.” At age 14, Scott would admonish his mother for such a view; her judgment was much too harsh and unsympathetic to the human condition.

It would be difficult, as well as pointless, to attempt to discern which parent contributed more with respect to James’ disposition and constitution. They both held the same philosophy of child-rearing: a Daring Honesty stressing the importance of fact-based knowledge tempered by the fact that a type of stoicism tangential to this is an isolation of Reason to itself, a denial of the fundamental capacity of human beings to feel Love, to experience Beauty. He came to know these as proper nouns always, causing much angst in his adolescent years.

Laura and Thomas did not name their son as they did with an eye to “The Blueprint for a Grandiose Future.” No, they thought it reflected as well as any name could. Really, how much could a name hurt? Or help, for that matter. So, they found it pretty arbitrary and decided to pick two of their most beloved historical figures, representing pretty fairly the child-rearing dynamic they wished to cultivate. Whether this was done intentionally, we know not. His parents decided on Scott after coming to the conclusion that Socrates carried with it far more expectations and to have a name like that one should choose it.

Neither one expected the dramatic turn of events that would follow from all of this, years later.