Tag Archive: philosophy


Zelda, Starkiller, and Life

The Legend of Zelda (video game)

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I’ve been doing a lot of video game playing, watching and listening to over this long weekend.

Multiplayer style games online are one of my favorites.  Using a hidden blade to slash the throat of an opposing thief,  then disappearing into a crowd has something viscerally satisfying about it, I won’t lie to you.  It gives you a certain unreal relief to be able to vicariously live out a vicarious life of a programmer/director/writer you will never meet.

That kind of play- against a real living person, but with enough levels in between (pun not intended) to keep you separated mentally, emotionally, and morally is a great source of fun.

That’s not what this blog is about.

First off, happy 25th birthday Zelda and Link.  How old do you feel reading that?  Legend of Zelda is a quarter of a century old.  Two and one half decades.  How old were you when you started playing Zelda?  Have you stopped?  Did you buy the new ones?

My life can be mirrored with Zelda.  I’m not sure if the likeness struck me of its own accord, or if it was inspired by this recent freshly pressed, but any way you slice it, my mind made some connections.

Back in the days of the original Zelda, both of us (the game and I) were much simpler.  Easy to control and manipulate, but full of secrets and fantasy.  Together, we grew older together.  We got more mobile .  By 1993 I started making my own way discovering my little corner of the world, out and about one might say – it was the same year she went mobile.   By 2006 my life had changed considerably.  I was married and was raising two children, living my party life virtually and trying to get a grip on a whole new way of controlling my life.   It was also the year Hyrule first made its appearance on the Wii console.

Enough about that, onto my next side spur.

Star Wars: The Force Unleashed II is one of my favorite games to play at this point, and the DLC (DownLoadable Content) including the side story of the Battle for Endor, was as beautiful as it was fun and thought-provoking.

In this episode you continue to play as the apprentice to Darth Vader.  For those of you not familiar with the original Star Wars movie with the Endor battle, please find it and watch it.  Go on, I’ll wait.

In this video game version of it you end-up killing scores of stormtroopers and ewoks before an epic battle with the infamous wookie, Chewbacca (Chewy.)  After beating the crap out of the Eugene Levy look-alike winner, his best human buddy, Capt. Han Solo, tries to save his furry friend by firing at your character.  He ends-up killing Chewy instead.  You then force grip Solo and run him through.  Now, race into the base and face Princess Leia.  There is a passionate fight, in which she tells you Luke died in the battle at Hoth.  You quickly find out that she is no match for you and you toy with her like a cat bats around a dying mouse before thrusting your light saber into her chest, then take time to meditate, Jedi style, over her dead body before arising to kill the team sent to “take care” of you.  Cut to black, cue credits.

Now, you might ask what that has to do with this blog?

Simple, I spurred me into wondering how things would be different in my life without certain people, and how it would change if others were introduced into my life.  I came to one conclusion.

For all my hopes and dreams, for all my what ifs, wish I could’ves, wish I knews, if I could just changes, I love who I am.  I love my family, and given the chance, I wouldn’t change one single thing because nothing is worth risking the life I have now over something that has been and been forgotten.

Love your life as it is, and never dwell on the past.  It seems cliché, I know, but in my short time on this Earth, I have already forgotten more in the past then I will probably do in the future.

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You are driving in your car, music is playing but not blasting. The sun is shining and so is the red light ahead of you.  You need to turn left- get in the lane and put on your turn signal.

Is any of this familiar to you?

The car ahead of you in queue is waiting too.  His turn signal flashes in a different pace, soon you notice when yours is on, his is off and vice versa.  Then suddenly, without warning- for one glorious second you are both in sync.  Synchronized. Together.  Then just as quickly, it ends.

We, as people, are a lot like turn signals- rarely are two people ever in sync, and when they are it is only for a short period of time until it all falls apart.  Also, we are almost never fully or properly utilized to our full potential, and never taken into use when we don’t think anyone is watching, or can see.

We can give the world a clear signal of our direction, but seldom do, and more often than not signal far too late to allow those around us to help us in our chosen path, or find ways around us- to help them or keep from smashing into us and leave screaming profanities through the tiny windows we leave open to the outside world that surrounds us.

I’m exhausted.

My wife and I had another moment of synchronicity.  We both agreed that the hoe-made tattoo on her left arm had to go.  We went to the local shop where we get all of our body adornments.  She knew what she wanted before we left the house, I on the other hand, was more cautious.  Despite our thoughts going in different directions, we still arrived at the same destination and our signals synchronized again.

The art is beautiful.  The natural asymmetrical symmetry is there as well as a well-defined axis from inner wrist to outer elbow- the shading bringing depth to the flat surface of her soft arm.

Nothing in this world could make my wife more beautiful to me, but her new tattoo certainly doesn’t hurt.

See, in the private lives my spouse and I share together; it doesn’t matter if we forget to use our turn signals or put them on too late, because no matter what happens on the road of life, we both know we are headed in the same direction.

Millions of people have made the analogy between chess and warfare, but few take it seriously.  One man, Kennith Jackson, took it to an extreme.  He was a paranoid and a murderer, but more specifically and to the point he was a chess player who took Master Sun Tzu’s Art of War as a chess player’s guidebook.

For more information on Kennith Jackson’s drug use, psychological disorders, and crimes please read Whipers: The Voices of Paranoia by Dr. Ronald K. Siegel. (It’s a great read!)

As a certified maniac and convicted killer, Mr. Jackson made a lot of nonsense and a lot of sense.   His style of chess play was unmatched in many arenas.  A cursory read of Master Sun’s great work can teach us much about life and how we can live it, and he is also a great springboard- this blog is about the combination of life, war, and chess sans the cocaine delusions.

When playing chess, or watching a game, it is widely agreed that when a player lays down his king, he is resigning- or saying they know that they have been bested.  Also, in many courts, one might see a player pick-up and remove their king from the board, as if to say, “I do not agree with the parameters of this match, and while not admitting defeat, I refuse to play you any longer.”

It is normally seen when the opposing player does not follow the ascribed rules or talks a little too much “smack” at the table, but not to the extent of disqualification.  It may seem silly, or even childish to go “I don’t like you and I don’t wanna play wif you anymore!”  What? Are you waiting for more?  That’s it, no more, no buts.

Smaller children, and smaller minded adults, may go to a further extreme.  Instead of taking their king off the board if they feel cheated or upset may swipe their hands across the whole board knocking down all the pieces, but this could be explained away by stating they were literally trying to wipe the board clean to start again, fresh.

Finally, there are other psychotic delusional people like Mr. Jackson.  They might kill you, or to a much lesser (although equally psychotic) extent do something else unheard of.  One person did.  One fellow blog writer took the opponent’s king off the board.  Picked-off all the opposing pieces off the board, then obstructed the seat so no one else could play, and then (here’s the wacky part,) continued playing the game by herself.

As much as anyone does not like opposition, as much as someone does not like losing, as much as someone does not like to admit that they do not possess the skills, ability, knowledge to come-out on top, as much as someone does not like to admit that the truth, the facts, reality, ect. are not on their side, as much as anyone can hate those things, they are a fact of life and a fact of war and a fact of chess.

Sometimes we all lose.  Sometimes we are outmatched, outwitted, outplayed, or out of luck.  As functioning adults we accept it, learn from it, grow from it.  What we don’t do is clear off only the opposite side of the table and continue to play as if nothing happened, as if there was still a game to play.

When a personal, romantic relationship goes awry sometimes they dump the party (or get dumped) and go on to the next game (tip their king, resign.)

When a personal, romantic relationship goes awry sometimes they feel so cheated they dump the party (or get dumped) and remove themselves from the dating pool and watch “LifeTime Movie Network” (take their king off the board.)

Occasionally, a person will rid themselves of everything to do with their formal flame (while occasionally applying a flame to do so!) Then after some BB&J (Beer, Ben & Jerry’s) go off to the next partner (wiping the whole board).

When a personal, romantic relationship goes awry one does not dump their partner, burn all of their objects, memories, ect, and then continues to go on imaginary dates by themselves going “Oh look hunny, this is our favorite place to eat!” to their right arm.  That person is a delusional, dysfunctional, psychotic and any clinical psychologist worth their weight in bedpans will agree.

That, in essence, is what this person is doing.  On one hand she states it is all about dialogue and discourse, comments and compliments, an exchange of ideas and democracy- but then deletes all comments that don’t fit her needs and locks her blog from public opinion, once she realizes public opinion is she’s a moon bat- nuttier then squirrel turds (while continuing to argue with former commenters and bash them and their beliefs to prove her sanity and righteousness!)

Is there a doctor in the house?

What the what?

As all of us fellow bloggers know and understand, there are ways of tracking the traffic to our sites to help us understand who is coming in to read us and, possibly what drew them in.

Other things are searches we run that search for links to our blogs.  Neat right?

Are you sitting down?   For all of you who read my writings, whether you like me or not, whether you agree with me or not, you know that I am nothing to be feared and, while towing the line of good taste, never cross boundaries.

That is why I was so surprised this afternoon.  Two of my readers came directly from the secure “bluecoat” section of the NJ State Police.  They have also linked me on a page or mass email.  Why?

What would cause this to happen?  Did someone, upset with my point-of-view, bare false witness against me?  Did the brass just find me amusing, and decided to inflict my muttering on others?

What the what?

I would expect that this is all an innocuous coincidence,  for it there was an investigation against me, they would be more discrete, not leave a virtual calling card on my dashboard– but still– the psychopath in my blogisphere has threatened me with suit and then sent her minor child to attack me (possibly to lure me-) but that begs the question of who the real threat is- the harmless writer or the parent who sends their daughter into battle as a mini-Trojan Horse, who, then, causes or incites alarm against a private individual who has done nothing wrong and directly stated he meant no harm, nor would pose no threat in prior weeks of an ongoing te-de-te.

Well, good day cruel world- and to any members of NJ’s finest, please feel free to contact me directly with any questions or comments you may have.

Sunday bloody Sunday

Normally, Sunday is a wonderful day for me.  A relaxing day, a day to leave behind the stresses and stupidity of the petulant prior week and its chores.

Just not this Sunday.  To quote the great early 90’s philosopher hair band, Poison, “I went to bed too late and got up too soon.”  When I arose from bed and placed my feet on the floor, I could not seem to find my shoes.  I later found that my dog had slept next to me and must have pushed them from their rightful place and under the bed.

Fine.  Not a great start, but at least I was not hung-over and I knew where I was, and I knew who was next to me, so it was better than Freshman year.

I wearily search, eyes still half-shut – vision blurred and strained, for my coffee cup.  One of my favorite cups, my Rocky & Bullwinkle cup.  No luck.  I settle for my “I got up for this?” latte mug.  I place the sugar in the bottom of my mug, slightly smiling, watching and listening to the sugar slowly pour from my Diner-esque shaker, filling the bottom of the tall latte mug.  Then I hastily fling open the refrigerator door, desperately searching for the light cream.  (I always put the sugar and cream in first, I learned that trick early in life when I purchased my coffee from gas stations without stirrers or spoons.) DAMN!  Where is the cream?  Suddenly my morning mind melds with my evening enigma of what I would do this morning after using the rest of the cream last night.  I know the answer.  Today my coffee will be black and sweet like Night Rider.

Fine.  Not a great start, but at least coffee was already made and the kids were still happy, yet to fight or whine, so it was better than last Monday.

I try to watch the news, but to no avail.  I am hastily reminded that my new fridge is coming today.  Doesn’t seem to horrible right? Wrong.

The doorways leading to my kitchen are too small to fit the fridge, but I know that already.  What I didn’t remember was that to get it in, I would have to bring it in through the back.  Over the snow and ice-covered lawn, over the snow and ice-covered porch and into my house.  Now, I realize that relaxation is not happening this morning- it’s time to scrape and shovel.

Fine, not a great start and I’ll have to do some more chores, but that’s ok because I know I should have taken care of it earlier, you know, before it was 7 inches of ice.  My bad.

Now the fun part:  Remember the psycho blogger from tree-hugging hell?  Yeah, she’s back.  I’m already I little upset, but this wacko wondermutt has really pissed me off now.

She makes these wild accusations about me and my friends, she insults everyone, lies about everyone and then refuses to let them defend themselves.  I had had enough of her stupid fascist crap.

In a second I know what I will do.

She had control of her blog, and she uses that control to stop people from having the opportunity to refute her obnoxious accusations and lies, so the solution is simple– take it off of her blog and out of her control.

Then I started to smile- out of her control, out of control, chaos.  Yeah, chaos.  Hail Eris and thanks for the inspiration.

I will take her own writings, refute them with logic and post them- not just on a blog or some random website- post them in the community.  In the local papers (they are dying for something to fill the white space), on the community bulletin boards outside of the grocery stores, the municipal building, the parks- place it in ad form in the school’s newsletter, the booster club’s programs- bring it to the local cable access (of which the blabber-mouth blogger participates,) to the local radio stations (they are both dying for something to fill the air time.)  In short, a total old-school broadcasting blitz.  I might even break-out the old telephony machine… (anyone remember those?)

Finally, I’m feeling better- then I get a chance to laugh!  This ravenous writer says she’ll sue me if I quote what she has written in a public blog to the public.  Now, granted I didn’t do much in college, but after four years of media law I know you can’t sue someone for quoting your publicly written words in public.  She then goes off on a tangent about how I can’t use her real name– she might have a point except– she told everyone, publicly, to read the publicly published minutes from the town meeting in October to read about her explaining her troubles with a wood chipper.  The minutes are on the web, go ahead look it up… I’ll wait… there!  See that?  Yeah, right where she tells us to look it says, (HER REAL NAME) had several problems including a wood chipper in the audience portion of a public meeting in which she knows she is being taped and the minutes are made public.  She, in effect, told us her name by telling us exactly where to find it and under what pretense it would be used.  That’s like saying a certain mayor of this township whose name is that of a male turkey in a blog entitled the name of the town.  I mean, it could only be one person- silly right? Oh, wait.. she actually did that.

In keeping with early 90’s music quotes, I’ll go with Onyx‘s “Slam”, “but wa-wa-wait it gets worse…”

She then writes that she will not back down or stop posting her inflammatory defamatory statements because I can not silence her and she is not afraid of me – shortly followed by “want it now to be uttered that I am scared for my safety and for the safety of my family.”

Of course, she might not remember as far back as a couple of sentences ago, I mean studies have shown that drug use can cause short-term memory loss.

Oh well, if you, the world have anything you could say to help me wade through the mess, or even make the mess bigger, please let me know.

This Sunday sucks.

German American Bund rally New York, Madison S...

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scottsinope says: Your comment is awaiting moderation.

I said, “but I do hope you have enough openness and ability to read and understand this.”

Hope vanquished by reckless false intellectual and moral bravado once again. You never fail to amaze in your failures.

I’m sorry you are unable to take a joke– even when it is directly stated to be a joke and not intended to cause harm- (I keep forgetting you can’t/don’t read!)

All that being said, it makes perfect sense that you kowtow to your composure class. Do you even understand what it truly is? When defining itself it states that; “The cognitive revolution of the past thirty years provides a different perspective on our lives, one that emphasizes the relative importance of emotion over pure reason, social connections over individual choice, moral intuition over abstract logic, perceptiveness over I.Q. ”

Really? You support social connections over individual choice? Then you fault me for comparing you to Nazis?

Really? You believe that emotions trump reason? You believe that intuition is above logic?

Do you read what you write? Do you believe what you say?

Do you really think Utopia is a place where your feelings trump the truth or greater good? Do you really think that Utopia is a place where socialism is better then individual freedom? Then you have the nerve to fault me for pointing out your brazen ideological stupidity and Nazi (short for NATIONAL SOCIALIST) tendencies?

You state quite plainly in your love and defense of the “composure class” that you are a National Socialist- which is a Nazi. What started as a joke, you proved to be the truth.

Why did I just waste me time responding to you?

When you are right, I make a point to say so. When you are wrong, I not only point it out, but take the time to show how or why I believe so. When I don’t understand what you mean, I ask.

You respond by completely misreading my comments, making false accusations, make false assumptions, and further prove my thoughts through your own recklessness in writing.

Obviously, I am taking the time and effort into reading and attempting to understand your writings and viewpoints- while you are not. I don’t know if you are incapable of reading and understanding, if you are too stubborn to even look at a different point of view, if you are too afraid to shake the false foundations of your flawed “logic”, or if you are just too lazy.

Well, I guess you are right. This chapter is closed. All this time of trying to help you to see, I forgot the most important lesson I have ever learned– there is no use arguing with an idiot.

Now don’t read that I am walking away– no no no– I will stand to defend myself from your hatred, your lies, and your hypocrisy, but I will no longer futilely point out your moronic manic asinine statements to you, because you either can’t understand or are too lazy to try– but don’t despair, rejoice! The rest of your readers, I hope, will see the lies and hypocrisies in your languid language, and silently laugh at you– the way I always will, the way I laugh at the three stooges or the absolute absurdity and stupidity of cartoon villains.

Good day.

By the way, why do you keep deleting this? Does the truth hurt?

scottsinope says:
January 23, 2011 at 7:12 pm

Concerning a commentator’s comments concerning how the township agrees with what I am saying, you ask:
“I would like to know where you get your “truthful statistics” on this statement.”

If you are that curious, I would suggest talking to your neighbors. That would give you an accurate portrayal. Better yet—

Look at the elections in this town. The people you insult and defame are continually elected, whilst the people with your mentality and share your viewpoints lose every election- I think in a democracy that means the majority of people don’t agree with you. I understand that you may not be comfortable with anything that has to do with democracy, but that is the basis on our society and system of government.

Further- you have systematically deleted my last 7 posts, I don’t think that means you are giving me a voice- quite the opposite in fact, because you are shutting me down.

Don’t worry your empty head, rejoice! I have decided that in my democratic capitalist utopia (that we actually live in) you are entitled to complete control over a blog that you own, included the right to deny anyone a chance to defend themselves from your attacks and arrogance.

That is why I have decided to post your true name along with your defamatory remarks, your hate filled hypocritical socialist totalitarian ideas along with your utter lack of respect for; this community, your neighbors, the children of this township, the elderly on a fixed income, the hard-working individuals, our duly elected leaders, our system of government, ect. and your undeniable defense of slanderers, defamers, socialists, and fascist regimes (disguised as the “composure culture” as I have explained in detail to you on several posts,) and not post them on your blog.

I will post them in the three local papers, on the community bulletin boards in front of the municipal building, in the Shop-Rite, in the A&P, I will take out ads in the elementary school’s newsletters, the booster clubs and recreational committee’s flyers and programs.

In short, instead of the 14 people who read your tripe learning your vile ways, the whole community will hear about you.

I do feel sorry for your children though– because once the word is out about how you have such contempt for this town and its residents, and the parents speak of your verbal atrocities around the dinner table, it will be your children that are subject to ridicule, that are ostracized– but I guess that’s ok with you, because that is what you do to these wonderful people you continually lie about, spread rumors about, and defame.

That is your choice- either the people will learn here, or I will broadcast your own words, sans the Nazi spin, to the community at large. I am done with you. You disgust me.

I want to be a human Defibrillator

Over the last week of writing and musing I have come to change my understanding of certain things.  The wretched writer I have spoken frequently of in a manner odorous, pleasant, and passive has done something I wish to do.

She had become (albeit accidentally and on a minute scale) a human defibrillator.  She tamed the mighty Zeus and commanded his commission. I have decided that I want that, only on a much larger scale- and I want it to be directed omnidirectionally- controlled chaos.

I am reminded of the great early horror movie line, “there is no hope in chaos”.  I am reminded that the way to personal salvation, (not spiritual) can not be tread by those who seek it, but only unknowingly– the way is found by those prodded like the nietzscheian cattle we all are into all directions, but headed to the same destination.

I want that prod.  I am no shepherd, nor do I follow one (see my last post,) but I want to be a part of the rancher, a cowboy- like I used to pretend to be as a child– where the whole world was open and the sky was a blanket that fell upon man, as he looked to the stars whilst the cattle held their heads down to endlessly and listlessly graze and fail to gaze into the wonders above them.

That is my new goal.

I want to be the direction for my fellow cattle, the thing that gets them to raise their heads above the herd and see beyond the fields in which we graze and ultimately fall– to think beyond the fences put-up presumably for safety, but definitely for control.

I want to be a shock to the system.  The shock that reanimates the heart of society- the shock that startles, yet gently guides.

I want to be a shock to the system- the whole system, our system of government and governance, of society and sociability.

I want to be a human defibrillator.

Chaotic systems display sensitivity to initial...

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I implore you world of rules and chaos, let me start this off right, give me the strength to remember what I wish to express… I love religion.  I love religious people.  I am at most a Discordian and at the least, I am atheist.

Let me attempt to explain this enigma.

To me, nothing is greater is this world then hearing a true Christian (simply because it is the religion I am most familiar with) speak and act in a way that exemplifies all of the wondrous things religion would like us to do.  To see someone act in a way towards others that could be referred to as being the mark of a good religious and moralistic  person.  It brings me tremendous hope and unfathomable joy to see that it can happen, that these people do exist, if only for that split second on the sidewalk.  It gives me hope that I may be wrong…

Normally, I am proven right again in less then a minute, but for that short period of time I know there is an ethereal paradise and I just got a glimmer of it.

As I have stated, I am not a religious person- but do these moments make me a spiritual one?  Do these glimpses of the divine give me headway into the rooms of God?  How is it that a standard hot-dog, complete with bun, eaten on Good Friday, could screw with every major religion whilst calamities prove existence?

Sorry, that last question doesn’t belong there.

Enough of the nonsense, incense and peppermints– I have been feeling aloof again.  I know- so quick to fall.  I blame it mostly on pure exhaustion.  I am a larger guy and did not get my portly pot-belly swallowing air, but for the first time I am having trouble finishing the portions provided.  Maybe my condition is a combination of exhaustion, excitement, and coldness.  This wild winter weather has been bitter.

Sorry, that last paragraph doesn’t belong there.

Assuming I am right (which I have to because I find it impossible to function otherwise,) there is no God, but possibly a goddess of chaos.  I assume this because if all I have learned about religion is right, then the only being who could be in control of this abysmal abomination we collectively call society, is a being who intrinsically lacks control.

It is possible that my mind won’t let me follow something it does not believe can exists in this world?  But if that is true, then I could never account for my absolute love of time and fascination with clocks, watches, sun-dials, calenders, ect. for time does not and cannot exist- it is something we, as a group, invented to bring about order from mother chaos.  Does that the same work as an explanation for religion? For government?  For Reader’s Digest?

Sorry, that last writer doesn’t belong here.

Ok, I have written a little about the blogger who’s inanity shocked me awake.

While looking back on what I have shared with you, the world, I notice a glaring absence.   I have decided, partly out of boredom I admit, to repost some of this person’s thoughts (or lack thereof).  I am confident that you will see that, although barbed at times, my main arguments have been based in logic and off of the writer’s words.

Here is a drastically abbreviated  look, starting with my original comment to a post in which she attacks me for pointing out obvious lies in a previous post and slandering me:

This piece is wonderfully written, but yet it lacks substance and reasoning.

  1. To start: Since your Dear Scott post, I have made no assumptions, only deductions based on your own verbiage and tone. I am not making assumptions on your character based on the winds or social misunderstandings- my inferences are based on your words, your expressed thoughts, your expressed feelings- in short, your character- which is EXACTLY HOW MLK WOULD HAVE LIKED IT.

    Secondly, there is no dialogue- you say something, I refute it on its own basis, you go off on a tangent. That is not a dialogue, that is you hiding from [it].

    Third, I can’t help but notice that everything your write about my fictional character in this novel of yours, applies much better to you then me. You are the one making assumptions (like I was making assumptions and think of you as an advisory, when I don’t) you are the one who refuses to open a dialogue, but prefer rather to throw bombs and run away. You are the one who is intolerant of the community you chose to live in. I am more then happy to entertain a dialogue with you, but you are the one who seems to be afraid and “disable dialogue with this mythic “other” regardless of the potential.”

    I’m here, I hear, and I am STILL awaiting a thought out, rational response.

  2. [writer intentionally deleted]  I can list 15 assumptions you have made.And- I am not interested in debating you, unless perhaps at a public meeting. 

    And, I am not writing this blog for you, you are an unexpected bi-product of “exposing” the kind of human who comes to the defense of undefendable acts.

    Note for novel: My antagonist says “you are the one who refuses to open a dialog”- in a comment line in her public blog…ironic right?

(This is where she starts deleting my posts instead of answering)

  1. You say, “I can list 15 assumptions you have made.” Do it.

    You say “I am not interested in debating you…” thank you for admitting you were lying about me and were really writing about yourself.

    You say “My antagonist says “you are the one who refuses to open a dialog”- in a comment line in her public blog…ironic right?” I fail to see the irony– all I see is more proof– you openly stated you refuse to open a dialogue- your public blog is not an open dialogue– and you admit you do not want it to be— you want this to be your lectern where you preach down to us and refuse to listen to your own words be used against you– that an opinion different then yours is not a welcome thing, but “an unexpected bi-product.” You are beyond words… I can’t think of anything I could say that could possibly bring into perspective your absolute absurdity and complete lack of reasoning and understanding– you are nothing more then a fascist. You preach open dialogue and openly refuse it. You preach live and let live while attacking everyone that opposing you. You are a hypocrite.

(For the record this started with her saying a prominent local figure came speeding down the road- so fast she feared for her safety- as she pulls out of her driveway!  Luckily, this speed demon was able to calmly come to a stop, sans smoke and screeching, before reaching her driveway– not that it would have mattered because she had time to stop, put the car in reverse, back-up her driveway, and make several rude comments in the 30 foot stretch that his vehicle went from NASCAR to stopped.  Anyone else care to explain the physics in this one?  I asked her, and she just insulted me and started writing about how I just want to shut down her ability to engage in politics.)

Now, I’ll admit my language is quite barbed at times, but that is the nature of my humor and is not meant to be hurtful, but if you are interested, here is the link to the lying psychopathic hypocritical hippie, whom I thank for jolting me awake with her absurdities and lies.

(Also, for the record, I know her IRL, and admire and like the people she enjoys spreading rumors and false accusations of so I was a little mad at the start, but also note there are things mentioned that are asides regarding actual happenings in the town that we purposefully do not mention directly.)

Why aren’t I surprised?

Over the last twenty-four hours I have run an experiment with you, the world, and have reached a startling conclusion:  I am not startled by the outcome at all.

I, quite obviously, posted a link on the side of my blog that states, “Don’t click here”.  In one day, over a dozen denizens of this deep micro-chasm clicked on it.

I am not joking.

While the cynic in me is not surprised at this at all, I am left with one problem: what to make of my unsurprising findings.  Should I rejoice that humanity refused to be boxed-in (please note that over a dozen is damn near everyone so far today,) that we, as a community, decided some inanimate button wouldn’t tell us how to act?

Should I be horrified that my life and musings attract people that can’t follow simple instructions?  Should I be elated that my musings attract people who refuse to be artificially contained?

Should I just feel like a total loser and jack-ass for running this experiment in the first place?  (Remember, experiments not only bring answers, but also pose questions of the examiners!)

All of that aside, I have decided that I will not take down the button.  I will leave it as a reminder to myself that following orders is not always necessary (or advisable), that following your curiosity can lead to new places, new ideas, or to disaster- but you don’t know unless you try.  Finally, I will leave it up there to constantly remind myself that, yes, I truly am an idiot and an ass.

Is it drafty in here?

Principle of MetaSystem Dynamics

Image by brewbooks via Flickr

Ahh, Sunday.  The day of relaxing rest, the day where I spend time reading, drinking coffee, playing with my children, spending quality time with my wife.

Pure bliss, sans the ignorance.

I read the news this morning, unsurprised there is none– save new renditions on the same stories over-reported and under-investigated.  Politicians and Pontiffs– screaming and speaking somberly– never letting a good tragedy go to waste.

For a bunch of lawyers and politicians it’s always amazing how they realize a Hinduesque spiritual truth– that nothing is bad and everything can be used as a stepping stone to growth, (although they mean growth of power and influence, not spiritual, but why pick on subtleties!)

My wife, ever charming and ambitious, suddenly suggests that I should explore the recesses of my resent reawakening for a semblance of a story, a novel novel, or some such literary undertaking.

Imagine my mind, like a newborn’s eyes, just beginning to open– blinded by the lights surrounding it and overcome by the amount of information thrust into its consciousness.  Now, fully remembering a past life but unable or unwilling to recognizably rebuild it, only able to lay a copied cornerstone of a former conscience– is now being requested to recite that which has yet to be!

How does one begin to speak from a mind imperceptible and nonexistent when the existing mind is not yet fully functioning in its new life?  How does one form a second without fully forming a first?

A tall order, I guess, but it reminds me of the absolute faith my wife has in me, and although uninspiring in itself to me; it spurs my own social growth, prods my political points, and moves me back down below the dogs of society and into my recently revived home.

I am no longer feeling blissful, but I feel full– complete.

Oh where to start a journey that has no beginning?

Who can I send-out into a wondrous world that has yet to be fully formed?

I feel a draft coming in.

As I stated before, I have put great effort into ignoring the world around me over the last couple of years, but I feel I need to explain myself more clearly.

When I was green in this gray world, and believed all those beautiful things people would say to me, I enjoyed the company of the world and those in it.

I was alive; mentally, spiritually, emotionally.  I could feel the pulse of life and society flowing through my works and words- I truly believed this was a wonderful world filled with fantastic and wild wonders just waiting to be grasped.

As I exited my early teen years I was alive; mentally, spiritually, emotionally, socially, politically.  I knew I was green in a gray world and I knew the delicate upper crust and dreary underbelly of this world.  I stopped paying attention to the hype and saw the hypocrisy.  I noticed the knowledge and elated in the ethics of good Gedanken experiment- but really retained the view of its vacancy in the world.

As the days turned into daze and my life turned to bricks and mortars of knowledge, I was still alive.  I was still green and the world still gray, but I was no longer green in the way of salad, but now in the shade of jade.

I came across the opportunity to work for, and with, a successful politician from the State Senate.  I grasped with both hands, throwing my body into it all, and hopefully heaved my head above the grime of the gray and into the glittering gold of the politics and power.  Or so I thought.  In my misplaced glory, I forgot all that glitters is not gold.   My cynicism returned, and my jaded soul turned black.

That brings me to our title:

I was living (or not) as Schrodinger’s Gedanken Cat.  I turned off- I was simultaneously alive and dead.  I wearily walked through my day to day, from daze to daze.  I left the world of politics and law, I died.  I was dead; mentally, spiritually, emotionally, socially, politically.

Half-heatedly, I was  hoping there was something left to live for- to strive for- a way to change, to be, to feel, to live.

I strove for ignorance, praying for bliss- I accepted apathy so I couldn’t care, wouldn’t war, so I could stop screaming.

Then she came- I was alive emotionally, but still living the life of Schodinger’s Lazarian kitten.

I thank everyday that something again arose in me, or I would be undeniably dead today.  No longer was I able to be inconspicuously isolated, ineptly trudging through the world without thought or passion, she gave me pointed purpose, so I naturally proposed.

Still, I was that damned cat- and I hate cats.

Over the few months, slowly, begrudgingly, I awoke to hear it bouncing around me- the echoes of the world, shouting and screaming, asking me to come out and play.

Deliberately, I diminished my ignorance of the world around me- not seriously surprised the nothing of note had happened in my acute absence. Still, I was still.  Still, I was dead- ignorance abated, but apathy abundant.  I had gathered moss, and in my newly acquired state and service of husbandry, I did not know how to remove myself from my man-made hammock.  I was comfortable, no- I was quietly contented, and desperately desired a prodding, a call to action, and along came my ironically insipid source of inspiration.

Today I feel alive.  I remember what it was like to fight the good fight- to live among the inhabitants of this weary world, to feel the pulse quicken at the sound of hypocrisy and hate disguised as hope, to be alive!

Right now, I am astonished how the misguided musings of a maniacal half-wit hippy could shatter and shake my disdain for the ignorance I harbored for years, back into consciousness- how my inability to understand the unseen and unclean hypocrisies again arose in me the passion for this world I had once felt. Again, I see myself green with the world in the gray of the world, and I haven’t been happier.

Let’s just hope this feeling lasts.

Hot off the wordpress

Hello cruel world, did I keep you long?

I’ve done my best to shut-off my mind and emotions over the last few years, save with my family, but I was recently jolted awake by a tyrannical hippy blogger’s rambling musings and false accusations.

Normally I would point-out obvious untruths, annoy them through imitation of thought and style, then fade away to ignore you, the outside world, once again with the smile of the ignorant and apathetic.

Something changed.

This time the ne’er humble blogger didn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend, failed to fathom that she had been proven, by her own words- a liar, slanderer, false profit. She was blinded TO her glaring hypocrisies instead of by them.

As a semi-professional cynic I expect the worst and most base from you, but the level to which the frelighuysen fascist so deeply descended was astonishing to me.

As an anarcho-capitalist I am never a fan of government, and like the aforementioned bothersome blogger, tend to dislike anything they do (hence my survival instinct instructing me towards the ignorance and apathy end,) but I understand the reasons for their existence and understand that, on the local level in small suburbia, our officials officiate to the best of their abilities and understanding of right and wrong.

So a cynical anarcho-capitalist is part of my ideological make-up and I understand why that forces me further to the fringe, but NEVER would act in such a manor as the furious frelinghuysen wacked-out writer. Never will I be blind to my own flaws and fallacies (of which they are many!) And never would I fully place myself above anyother, fully knowing- as a cynic- that even the dogs are above us.

Oh well, enough of my laborious long-windedness for now. Please pardon my spelling errors and such, as I am writing this on my phone without access to spellcheck.

Goodbye cruel world,
I’ll see you later.

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