[308] Stamp Of Approval

I think there are features of credibility. That is to say, you will see the same kind of temperament and argument coming from sources that tend to know what they are talking about. Unfortunately, this temperament and argument are often mimicked. This means, if you don't have the patience or habit of trying to recognize a credible source, it's easy to fall right in with a "brilliant argument" made by some new writer, philosopher, or product developer. This problem is exacerbated if you are interested and overly excited with the topic being engaged. In my endless, but not hopeless, pursuit of what's true, I wish to explore what it means to look credible vs. being credible and how it can be easy to immediately see right though someone.

Just so I don't lose myself, I want to talk about the show "Shark Tank," Paul Krugman, fictitious universes, and this article on sex I just read.

We all have our interests or poorly characterized "passions." It's easy to feel a sense of authority or pride in giving one too many factoids that no one else has previously Googled. It's also easy to feel gratified in taking that information and infusing it with personal experience to round out the richness and authenticity of our position. "Did you know that such a seemingly innocuous fact of our biology played out in my interaction with that cute girl from our art class today?" "My background in history, and my uncle who lives in Israel, gives me the authority to refer to the Palestinian terrorists as such."

We build models of behavior that are supposed to signal to each other that we are, in fact, credible. Me even breaking this blog into paragraphs is supposed to show that I know how to structure an argument in digestible chunks regardless of how convoluted or vague each line may be. I even reflexively have a hard time taking giant blocks of text seriously even when I agree with the content! It speaks to the "embedded sensibilities" of what looks and feels "correct."

So if you've seen the show Shark Tank, you see small businesses line up to make their case for a panel of investors. They have some new product which often enough is useful, interesting, and has potential for growth. Before these people have actually gotten to the show, they've created a world where their product is significantly more amazing than reality may have room for. They've put in the blood, sweat, and tears, they know, or are willing to lie, about the numbers, and they have a strong sense for "what people often wonder about and look for" or "what people are excited about." Frequently, once the questioning starts, they get rattled, scare away a few of the investors, and then get proverbially spanked.

All of these people "believe" in their products, and others will buy into that level of work and dedication. The panel of investors, having heard the same story every day, focus on the bottom line. How much money is potentially in it for them? The staggeringly ridiculous and quite infuriating thing I take away from this show is how arbitrary and petty the whole process is. That is their "business." None of these people sit and think about what they'd do with a ten million dollars as opposed to one million. When a comment about "the trouble Apple got into" when talking about brilliant design and marketing against the "problems with overseas manufactures" as if we're not talking about modern slavery and suicide nets...

If I'm a billionaire chastising a small detergent company on its packaging, and part of my argument is to callously lump in how Apple's anti-human rights attitude hurt it for a few quarters despite their resources and ability, to me, you've dramatically lowered my ability to grant you the level of authenticity I seek. Instead you might be described as "a business junkie." You know and project that world so well that you lose sight of the real one. It is important to note that I do not think this is deliberate or malicious. It's the human habit of culture that takes over. Everything you do becomes an expression of the embedded sensibilities, and you talk about things you didn't mean or even want to talk about. Personally, I don't want my effort or thoughts to get that steeped in "the business world." It's too easy. I want my impact to be felt actually instead of arbitrarily in giving x amount of dollars for y percentage in your company where I only care about the bottom line.

Paul Krugman has the kind of authenticity I think is easily lost on the panel of money makers. For those unaware, he's a Nobel Prize winning economist which has nothing to do with why I think he's authentic. When Krugman uses numbers to state facts, what a concept, other economists, despite their differences or disagreements are forced to agree. You can't argue with results. Krugman in interviews lays out a case, and when you try to argue with him, he doesn't lose his shit and start frothing at the mouth, the other person gets pressed to get detailed about something they previously trapped themselves in "sound bite world" about. Krugman is effortless in his demeanor and achievements because he relies on the numbers.

Someone or something that becomes "naturally compelling" is anything but. It's not enough to have a background in, be praised by, or have done in the past. There is a commitment to the truth that goes beyond what you're personally invested. When fans are pissed that a band "sold out," are they just jealous and don't want their favorite song writers/players to achieve commercial success? Or is there a deep seeded fear that the place where compelling lyrics and innovative musical structure will be slowly phased out in the name of the bottom line or brand interests? Some bands understand their message or stick to their roots, and some people commit to the numbers and say how things are instead of what they, or some business entity or political interest, wish them to be.

It's hard if not impossible to draw distinct lines of authenticity when you take them out of the real world. While there are relatively limited numbers of genres or character types, there are an infinite number of stories you can tell with them. Aside from the right publisher or promoter getting their hands on them, what makes something like "The Marvel Universe" become a universe? How does the story of heroes and war get made into 6 movies involving Hobbits or Jedi? Fiction is as an analogy or it wouldn't be compelling. Go ahead and call this my concern with the psychological makeup of people in love with Twilight. Whether it's the truth of how the characters interact, or the truth of your longing to behave like or find someone like what's depicted on screen, you're forever taken with the ones that resonate deep in your gut.

Is the author or director just "brilliant?" I think it's more likely something deeper, fundamentally authentic, that's being spoken to or connected with. Twilight equals a lot of people feeling desperate. Marvel equals a lot of people longing to be "more" or expressive and entertaining of a complex. Pick your favorite Lord of the Rings character and play their decisions against what you might have done, and your willingness to follow overrides a lot of the details in how the story was put together. It's not how the work compares to what came previously; it's when relatively few characters or stories connect to something that feels effortless or timeless despite the amount of work it may actually take to get that portrayal.

For as many people out there trying to express through fiction, there seem to be ten altogether who think themselves rooted in fact. It's kind of frustrating to read a review of a book, especially on sex, that says (not a direct quote) "for those of us who like facts and figures this certainly has a couple of those, and for those of us who like sweeping personal soliloquies we're in for a treat too." Protip, anyone who starts an answer to an interview question with "I'm not trying to be obtuse" is trying to be obtuse. There's this "professional demeanor and language" of someone trying to be an authority on a subject which has been hijacked to all levels of obscurity by my estimation. If you want to claim sex is complicated from a personal standpoint, don't get published and dress it up like you're a scientist. You should put it in a blog called "I Want to Sex You Up Baby" and let your readers battle out the details in the comments.

I know, and like the fact, that my writing things in this format only goes so far. When I want to start making decisions that play out over someone else's life, I'm starved for data. If I'm ever compelling, I wish for it to be in the realm of "I never thought of it that way" or "I didn't have the words." When I think, do, and say, I want it to speak to the authenticity that can't be overridden by insecurity or blind belligerent investment in the next compulsion. I really do think that "like recognizes like" and when you're aroused, or motivated, or pulled into a moment or character, that's where lessons are learned and platforms for self-expression are created. This is where I look when I'm after your "soul" and what I hope you see when I'm writing from mine.

[307] The Taskmaster

Is there any problem that can’t be solved? When you reassess the nature of problems, give them a context or set of conditions, it feels like everything is solved. The information isn’t being invented, it's discovered. The pursuit and elation in tackling something bigger than yourself is itself another ongoing discovered solution. It’s in how you frame the question. It’s in what you define as a problem. It’s in your ability to anticipate, which begets a certain order, or logic, to your perception.

In that sense, if you take someone with a problem, or constant problems, all that’s really happened is a perceptional rut that they, at some important level, feel they can anticipate. It may make them feel stressed, but it’s stress they understand, stress they can rely on, or stress that signals to them it’s time to move on to the next step. If they don’t feel like they’re going anywhere or if there’s nothing to be won, then that’s where they are and it’s right where they’ll be. It’s orienting in a potentially ever-expanding space.

Not to get too inside my head though. I think the better you want to play “culture of today human” the more stress and heartache you’ll find. Culture is a deliberate attempt to orient something we don’t really understand. The rules are superficial at best, antithetical to sense and happiness at worst. The color of your sacred garb or the amount of times you bow are arbitrary. I wonder the impact of being maybe sub-consciously aware of this bombardment of the absurd has on our self-esteem and ability to shape a personality.

It’s because we desperately want to fit in. It doesn’t matter if it’s dumb, it matters that everyone else is doing it. We get nice brain and tummy feelings that are not picky about the fact that they get to feel nice. There’s a problem in “trying” to fit in and not just realizing that you already do. The fact of your existence, your ability to even feel shitty about that fact, is you fitting in. There is literally nowhere else you could go or squeeze into as far as this universe is concerned.

I think my nature stems from an intimidating level of acceptance. I know enough of the rules to flirt until the cops get called, but nothing stopped me from pushing it until they did. When I need proof of my ability, I manifest proof, every time. When I don’t, I’m not trying to impress or stress about what “it all means” because I fundamentally accept how quickly and dramatically I can change my mind if I heard a better reason to care in such a fashion. It’s rather disheartening that people don’t understand it this way. They’re content just saying they don’t like you.

I think my ideas and behavior are boiling down more to a sense of responsibility than honesty anymore. It’s mostly because it’s not really a secret what I think or feel about things than some dire need to start lying all the time. If I’m “just here” wherever that is, I should try to be the best example of that as I can. To me, that’s advocating and living like how I think. For example, if I really don’t believe in marriage, I’m not getting married, and it won’t be “because I feel that way” it’ll be with as many words as it takes for it to click why. From what I eat to whom I associate with should all warrant such an explanation if so called upon.

There’s a responsibility to the logic and how it orients you against the other players. I always come back to religion. I’d never argue or say “I tripped balls and really felt emotional or connected to something like god, so time to negate all that thinking I’ve done these last 9 or so years.” I hope my explanations of things come across as that, explanations, and not desperate pleas for you to buy my bullshit. When I’m boring, I don’t feel bored, when I’m alone I don’t feel lonely, and when I’m confused or frustrated, I’m not willing to let those become anything more than the moments I have to experience them about the tasks at hand. This is not the norm, apparently, so in that respect it’s isolating and empty, but not for the fullness of my understanding.

My biggest problem in life is that I have no problems.

[306] Quintessentially Mew

I’m going to hesitate using the word “soul” a dozen times while writing this I’m sure.

I think there is a potential for an individual in anyone. An unfortunate problem with this potential is that they can choose to define their individual in terms completely opposite of what I would consider a healthy or optimal form. Why would I advocate for people becoming individuals in the first place? Why should you be persuaded that the case I make for me, and that you should be you is even valid? Maybe their definitions are simply more nuanced or a different kind of true than what you think I have to offer. Maybe you find yourself so much better to connect and empathize with one of their senses of individuality that you can’t even begin to connect with mine.

I think there are calculable and reliable methods for why my conception of individual is better than theirs. What is “their” conception? What rules do they follow? Someone can easily describe themselves as traditional; wife, kid, 2 car garage, steady job. There is absolutely no problem in wanting these things. There is nothing inherently wrong with these things. I certainly wouldn’t mind some kind of relative version of most of these types of things. No matter how many times I may argue on behalf of these things, seemingly in line with “their” position, I’m still asking why.

The main rule of what I will call “the off individual” or “off person” is a habit of doing for the sake of doing. When questioned why, the answer is because. When pressed, it’s a choked yet at the same time screamed “because that’s I want, that’s who I am, and it’s none of your business.” The off person isn’t necessarily a dumb person. It’s one thing to accidentally light your balls on fire, twice, and it’s another to live moment to moment in a sort of haze or kind of angst.

My individual is, in a very important sense, very boring, and in another, the most interesting person you could ever talk to. They exist in a realm where nothing is off limits, you can always change, but you can always tell that no matter where they’ve been or where they’re going, you are talking to them. You’re not talking to who their parents wanted them to be. You’re not talking to their fear of being lonely. You’re not talking to their uncertainty of the future. And you’re certainly not talking to your own judge, jury, and executioner.

They’re boring because things simply happen and they try to understand and navigate them. They’re the most interesting person you could ever talk to because of how they came to that understanding. They gain a perspective that becomes impossible to ignore and naturally compels change. They speak with enthusiasm that, were it not to come from habit, would be exhausting. There are people who just are so intently that you have to be drawn in. They rob you of the choice, and that’s okay with you. These people tell you your story through their eyes.

I’m crushed when people lose their ability to become these kinds of people. In that sense, college has been one of the most disappointing periods. I have the window into myself in the relationships I keep. I look much further beyond “he can be fun at a party” as to why we got along. There are a number of people who I’ve had or consistently have the best conversation I could be having in that moment. And then often enough they disappear. They don’t move or get too busy, “they” disappear.

There’s a responsibility to being my kind of individual. You have to understand the difference between describing what people are, and judging the shit out of them to try and feel good about yourself. It’s taking someone else’s “quirks” and understanding them to be a part of that person, not always an opportunity to pigeon-hole their entire being. You have to realize that the person I talked to for hours, or saw smiling the entire time during some sexy soiree is the one I believe when you’re describing yourself. When you start to sound like a romantic drama or off-shoot of the American dream, I’m doubtful. Life is more nuanced. As a person living one, I’m desperate for your character.

When people cut off me or my group, I’m concerned. I can’t think of a time in my life when I’ve been prompted to be more open and honest about anything with anyone. The overwhelming “who gives a fuck” nature of my group is less a genuine lack of concern and more an “I’m happy if you’re happy.” We may describe situations and people in deliberate or crass terms, but you can bet there’s a level of honesty that actually wants to get to the bottom of how or why they’d describe something in that way. The sometimes overt sexual stuff is just fluff. Fun fluff, but it’s not a group of people who needs to bust out into an orgy a day to keep boredom away.

So why wouldn’t someone want to be included? Well, it’s off putting to talk about things you’ve deemed off limits. It’s easy to read way too far into a few personalities or past situations. You’ve not only turned yourself off to understanding this group of people who, I would argue can have a humongous positive impact on your life, but also the opportunity to actively engage in the conversation on what may need to change or seems wrong to you. To exist in a group dynamic like ours, you are lost without a strong sense of self. You become uneasy, bored, judgmental, and confused. I know, because this is how I feel when I’m stuck around a group of “normal people.”

And it’s not like I’m butt hurt that “nobody wants to be my/our friend.” I don’t think someone needs to step in and validate some personality. I’m concerned about the people who flirt with the group. Who spent maybe years flickering or cracking open doors that were infinitely interesting, that drew you in, until one day they’re unceremoniously shut with nary a nod they ever existed. If they were once willing, what changed? If they once had stories and unstoppable thoughts, and this intriguing perspective, and shared it and good times were had, why is it gone now? They turned off. And if they just went dead to you, why’d they even bother in the first place?

It’s why I have a hard time perpetually “hating” or trying to cut off people that I’ve even once genuinely enjoyed their time. That’s their capacity. I know it. They can’t lie to me. It’s why I keep a relatively small facebook contact list. If I don’t feel an obligation, if I wouldn’t spend my time, if I had nothing to say to you, your being, your perspective, your soul, I wouldn’t be fucking talking! What were you doing with me? Is it really that interesting to talk with someone because of their hair and ability to say fuck a lot? I doubt it. So what did you see? What looked like you or what you might want to be? What might you have to teach?

The goal isn’t to learn how to run away from things that make you feel uncomfortable. The goal isn’t to blame. The goal is to tear down every excuse until you can just be, just talk, just accept, until the baseline you has enough reason to adapt to something else. I don’t care if people feel they need to grow up or become obligated with other things, I care if they treat the person they’ve shown themselves to be like it doesn’t exist. Like the time spent with me or my friends was “just another party” or “who I was in college.” I don’t like being written off like I wasn’t trying. I don’t want to watch sparks get domesticated, lazy, and complacent. Bad ideas are never named when you don’t allow the voice to challenge them. Convention can crush your soul. And the idea that I would be sadder about that than you is horrifying.

[305] My Balls Itch

So part of taking responsibility for the world is a propensity to redefine everything you do in the context of a larger picture. If I eat shitty food, it’s not that I’m drunk and it’s delicious, I’m letting everyone know that someone under these circumstances is “good” or justified in indulging in a horrible for you meal for any number of potentially incoherent reasons. If I flirt, I’m shouting the world that someone of my level of attractiveness is dignifying the person on the other end as a viable fuck-around partner or at the very least a being well-enough to converse and spend time with. It’s like you’re given a stamp that, for people who are respectful of stamps, when you use it it’s an all guiding light to what “matters” or is “relevant” to your position in life.

The ability to step back and characterize everything as old hat or part of a larger system is inescapable. I can’t go to the bars and see people having a good time. I can’t even judge them as I’d like. They are all ignoring the years before them when they’re parents said the same things and felt, if not still feel, the anxiety and societal pressures to behave a certain way to snag a mate whether it’s for the night or long enough to have kids with. At the end, it’s a game and there are rules you’re either savvy to or conflicted by.

I have a hard time considering myself. I don’t know if I’m smart, or just have spent too much time in a certain kind of mind frame or have maybe just been “damaged” in a way that isn’t really quantified until something goes significantly wrong. My disregard isn’t so much practice as it is inevitable. I don’t’ know how else to view people as anything but the sea of endless self-perpetuating problems that go above and beyond in ways to disappoint and seemingly doom the kind of world I’d like to see in the future. It’s not enough for me to consider a “nice” person. I’m not compelled by anecdotes and allegiances. I have no moral code that puts humanity or its life force at the top of some superficial pyramid. You just behave a certain way and it either works or doesn’t for what seems to be necessary for a healthy future.

I’m a product of habit. If and when I get everything I want in the future, I understand that it will be because I’m not willing to give up. I don’t take failure as failure. I learn and adapt and try to apply what I’ve learned to the next situation. When that’s the case, it’s practically inevitable that when x under y conditions will get to some form of z. But it’s always a game. It’s always my agenda verses how the world is “actually” run. The weirdest thing is that I don’t think I have anything real to gain. I don’t think there is anything to win beyond the personal satisfaction of “I told you so.”

I fundamentally don’t believe in the human species. If I did, I might find myself respecting or even marginally liking the majority. I hate how slow we are, how scared we are, and how impossibly closed minded we are to learning new things or changing in light of evidence. I see us as ridiculously too quick to get numb and not care about the things that have even managed to arrive at our doorstep. So when I get on my “mission” to change culture. When I want to be surrounded by people of the same mindset and capabilities that you could interchange the jobs or responsibilities in life and everything would run smooth regardless, I know it’s still a fool’s errand.

I’m shooting for the opportunity to live in a microcosm of the kind of world that I think will sustain itself longest. It can’t last forever. Every ideal I espouse will have been conjured up before I got around to thinking of it. Special sciences will have already existed to give me the how and why I should structure something one way over another. To try and squeeze out what is quintessentially “me” will be the burden of those choosing to get involved. Whether it’s the “best” or “most right” will be always utterly under question given the ever changing times or circumstances.

I just find myself judging everything, all the fucking time. I don’t see a sense of caring or understanding. I don’t see a burden. I don’t feel your obligation. I don’t believe you are anything but your day to day struggle to grasp your pathetic life quandaries that have been more resolved by history than the question of who wrote the diary of Anne Frank. I’m not hopeful. I’m not optimistic. I do things out of scorn and spite for what’s taken for granted.

I don’t know how to explain how motivated I am to do so much in utter spite of itself. I do not believe in anything. I only know my effort. I only know what I’ve done or what I’m seemingly capable of. I have no faith. I have no hope. I have nothing to suggest that I have any reason to live other than my perpetual decision to give myself reasons to. If I get everything I want in life, it will still all be a game, a joke in front of the bigger screen telling a truer story. And it’s so ridiculously weird to think about.

With every last breath I have to refute sounding like an angst ridden teenager, I don’t know how to express how alone I feel. I can read the philosophers. I can chat with the smart people. I can derive endless excuses and explanations for how and where I’m coming from that would seemingly align with resolute and dignified positions that came well before I ever got to them, but none of them are the nail on the head. I still manage to find a level of isolation that I wish just stemmed from some egocentric or pretentious place. I wish it was easy to be called naïve. I wish I wasn’t so sure of the consequences.

I’m not allowed to “give up.” And what does that even mean in the context of not having a belief in what you’re doing in the first place? I understand what can result; I don’t have some moral high ground or infinitely inaccessible reason for its establishment other than what it looks like juxtaposed to what’s happening currently. Take that derivative anti-relativist morality.

As long as I care “in spite” there will be a problem. As long as I do things out of desperation or exhaustion, the fundamental issues with society I can be assured are not being addressed. I don’t know how to let go of the hatred. I don’t know how to justify letting things “be.” I don’t know how to pretend for someone’s own good. And I definitely have no fucking clue how to go about tackling problems that no one knows how to fucking talk about. Suppose I’ll just stick to this little corner and keep shouting into the wind.