I try to look deep. That is, I try to
pick up on things beyond what they initially show or say. I look how
your face and body move as you're telling a story. I notice little
changes in the tone of your voice and come up with reasons you might
be getting angrier or happier. I watch your posture or mood shift
over time and infer things about your relationship or job. I try to
classify the stories you're willing to tell or what people are
willing and quick to say about you. If I ever get a writing sample,
then it's like part of you has been put under excessive flood
lighting. I can literally watch where your reasoning starts and stops
and pick out your particular word choices I might have skipped over
in a cordial conversation.
We're born, to some extent, to be able to do this naturally. Just as most people can see, taste, and smell. You can get a job tasting, smelling, or spotting forgeries because the very senses you take for granted have more layers than you might discover on your own. You can then take it a step further. The reason there are FBI profilers and body language “experts” (as that field I hesitate to say has the required scientific uniformity of reliable replication) is because with enough practice you can start to see trends, pick apart particulars, and often see reliable-enough information into the future about who a person is, is becoming, or is trying to be. Absolutely it's not perfect and people can opt to be perfectly random or be thrown off course by unforeseeable circumstances, but the point is less to argue for the strict scientific basis of my claim, and more to talk about the practice.
Band taught me that “practice makes permanent.” If you hold yourself to bad standards and ingrain bad practicing habits you'll subconsciously move into those spaces you've carved and synapses you've strengthened. The malleability of the brain is such that you can reinforce or degrade these proclivities, but the earlier you start and learn something and the more you replicate it, that's often what will stick. This is the heart of learned prejudices and poor stress or conflict resolution strategies. This is irrational fears and insecurities that play out as the most confident and intense people you'll ever meet. This is why when conversations all degrade the same way I'm not surprised, because through our families, cordiality, and the media, we've all been trained to deal with information we don't like or understand the exact same ways.
Now I'm caught running with the thesis that we're a society of extremely bad social habits. I can repeat that to myself as many times as it takes to become convinced. I can make it harder for myself to see the arguments in favor of the social games we play and how they beget more cohesion or happiness. Every single supposition I take, by virtue of “it came to mind,” I can argue in the light of criticism, damnation, or depression. Precisely at this point is where we can either do and say what I just did or carry on like we're perfectly unable to recognize our ideas and what they may be translating. When I write, I don't particularly feel unduly or unfairly critical, like I'm damning the world to hell, or that what I say should make you particularly sad, but how often do my words get the kind of reaction that would suggest I'm doing anything less?
My habit is to dig. Digging has its problems. When I dig into people, they stop looking like people. They look like forces. They look like habits. They look like parts of every poorly done psychological test on biases and highlighted parts of the brain from an FMRI. Anymore, I apply the dig to the “bulk” of news articles and look for trends or styles in the information. Is there a general voice of bloggers and newscasters beyond, “Oh fucking shit?” Can you put your finger on what the public is digesting and sharing and wishing when the well of commentary is the actual place you should look if you want to see unfair criticism, depressing sentiments, and general damnation? Is there more to Hitler 2's cabinet picks than the simple observation that opposite day will be in effect indefinitely?
I got the jolt to write this because of an article that pointed out one of Hitler 2's picks plagiarized their PH.D. Can it be anymore on the nose? Someone who's gotten to such an academic level that they're even writing a PH.D suggests a whole world unto itself. Then you go and corrupt, or celebrate depending on your view, the notion of advanced and specific education by cutting corners at the top. You want the letters, not to be what they're supposed to represent. You want the authority without the work. You want the respect that you've never had for yourself and you want the empty fame, or infamy, to keep you hidden in plain sight. You'll take your fake credentials and no-comments to the highest places of authority and accountability in the land, and you'll get in anyway. You, and hundreds of your closest inadequate, lazy, and dangerous friends.
I'm forced to look at the deeper picture. I'm forced to comment on “people” when that many terrible ones are glamorized as worthwhile and capable of being leaders. It matters as long as I don't choose to commit suicide. In precisely this moment you have to understand that when your larger picture is as corruptible and fickle as the human animal, it is not rational or helpful to rely endlessly and needlessly on the artifice of this faux leadership. It isn't hard or unexpected to practice bad habits until they feel normal. It speaks to why I have to constantly write and pick apart what I'm doing in life. How much of me feels so normal that's actually beyond destructive to those around me and my long-term feasibility as a human? If you're willing to look, your mind can be a picture of emaciated squalor that nobody had the perspective or bravery to inform you about.
The work of paying attention is hard. I rail against cliches because they skip over the work of identifying why they're true. To be in the moment can be to suffer, and suffer a lot. It can be anxiety and depression. It can be always throwing down a wall of judgment and doubt between you and the people you meet. And it's why you have to habitualize recognizing how you're practicing doing so. Am I writing to beat myself up, give myself excuses, or try too terribly hard to convince myself of something stupid I refuse to find better words for? Am I repeating myself for effect and stress or because that's all I have to say? Am I truly frustrated at “the world” and what it's constantly doing to me, or that after another groggy night of television and big dreaming, I'm still freezing in basketball shorts writing this, instead of seeing what I want to come true beyond my living room? It's not always clear.
Something I do notice too often is how the words never match up with the actions. That's how I get to employ the word “superficial” more than any one word should ever be employed. That's how I get to bitch about all the “friends” I never see or talk to who are perfectly happy to agree with you about your ideas or plans, and would love to see something like that, but are actually more happy in their game servers or work station or classroom. That's how you see all the “informed” and insistent commentary that tells you what's wrong with the country lamenting how far we've fallen, but if I tell them, “Live free, right here, just put me on the phone with someone with the resources to get us started” nothing still happens. The deeper truth, the fundamental things about us are what is shining through, not that I believe you believe anything about what you're saying.
I like to think my world reflects to it's best ability what I actually think and feel. I believe I can run a general food or service establishment as good as anyone, so I tried. I believe my future is perilously threatened if I don't learn more about being self-sustainable and connect in a more informed and democratic way on a smaller scale, so I bought land. I think the overwhelming amount of conversations I get into and criticism I get is so beyond the pale unfair as to border on abuse, so I ask you to explain yourself, get genuinely angry when you don't, and am more sad than I'll never get credit for in knowing when and why we can't be friends anymore. It wasn't because I blog. It's not that I'm too confusing. It's that you're not willing to admit...anything, ever.
Our daily practices aren't about who we want to be. We're practicing who we are. When we're “innocently lying” about our circumstances, that should bug and scare you. When we're able to overlook and downplay ethics, literally just general ethics, you need to bring that reality to the center of your being and figure out what it's done to pollute how you operate in the world. If you're not sounding as “crazy” as me, why? If you're not worried about the day your town becomes Flint or New Orleans or someone wants to privatize and bankrupt or kick out your neighbors, it's not that I sound too critical, you're a lying person who's dead inside. It feels so normal.
The keys to respecting our station and relationships to each other aren't just dangling in front of us, they're perpetually thrown right between our eyes. In order to not make yourself crazy with the joke and stress of just existing at all, you have to do the work and be honest. If you can't account for your outside life in honest terms, I can only suffer in thinking about what's going on internally. Here, another brilliant opportunity. Do you believe I'm suffering? If not, you're broken, because you can't even recognize what it's doing to you. You're not looking as deeply at your face as I am. Are you unwilling or unable? Are you going to say out loud how much you don't care what I think or if I die? If not, I'm only going to keep doing what I do and tell you what you're actually saying. I'm going to work around it or throw it back in your face. I'm gonna keep suffering your face trying to look and talk like something deserving while you plagiarize and kill even the memory of what the real work looks like.
We're born, to some extent, to be able to do this naturally. Just as most people can see, taste, and smell. You can get a job tasting, smelling, or spotting forgeries because the very senses you take for granted have more layers than you might discover on your own. You can then take it a step further. The reason there are FBI profilers and body language “experts” (as that field I hesitate to say has the required scientific uniformity of reliable replication) is because with enough practice you can start to see trends, pick apart particulars, and often see reliable-enough information into the future about who a person is, is becoming, or is trying to be. Absolutely it's not perfect and people can opt to be perfectly random or be thrown off course by unforeseeable circumstances, but the point is less to argue for the strict scientific basis of my claim, and more to talk about the practice.
Band taught me that “practice makes permanent.” If you hold yourself to bad standards and ingrain bad practicing habits you'll subconsciously move into those spaces you've carved and synapses you've strengthened. The malleability of the brain is such that you can reinforce or degrade these proclivities, but the earlier you start and learn something and the more you replicate it, that's often what will stick. This is the heart of learned prejudices and poor stress or conflict resolution strategies. This is irrational fears and insecurities that play out as the most confident and intense people you'll ever meet. This is why when conversations all degrade the same way I'm not surprised, because through our families, cordiality, and the media, we've all been trained to deal with information we don't like or understand the exact same ways.
Now I'm caught running with the thesis that we're a society of extremely bad social habits. I can repeat that to myself as many times as it takes to become convinced. I can make it harder for myself to see the arguments in favor of the social games we play and how they beget more cohesion or happiness. Every single supposition I take, by virtue of “it came to mind,” I can argue in the light of criticism, damnation, or depression. Precisely at this point is where we can either do and say what I just did or carry on like we're perfectly unable to recognize our ideas and what they may be translating. When I write, I don't particularly feel unduly or unfairly critical, like I'm damning the world to hell, or that what I say should make you particularly sad, but how often do my words get the kind of reaction that would suggest I'm doing anything less?
My habit is to dig. Digging has its problems. When I dig into people, they stop looking like people. They look like forces. They look like habits. They look like parts of every poorly done psychological test on biases and highlighted parts of the brain from an FMRI. Anymore, I apply the dig to the “bulk” of news articles and look for trends or styles in the information. Is there a general voice of bloggers and newscasters beyond, “Oh fucking shit?” Can you put your finger on what the public is digesting and sharing and wishing when the well of commentary is the actual place you should look if you want to see unfair criticism, depressing sentiments, and general damnation? Is there more to Hitler 2's cabinet picks than the simple observation that opposite day will be in effect indefinitely?
I got the jolt to write this because of an article that pointed out one of Hitler 2's picks plagiarized their PH.D. Can it be anymore on the nose? Someone who's gotten to such an academic level that they're even writing a PH.D suggests a whole world unto itself. Then you go and corrupt, or celebrate depending on your view, the notion of advanced and specific education by cutting corners at the top. You want the letters, not to be what they're supposed to represent. You want the authority without the work. You want the respect that you've never had for yourself and you want the empty fame, or infamy, to keep you hidden in plain sight. You'll take your fake credentials and no-comments to the highest places of authority and accountability in the land, and you'll get in anyway. You, and hundreds of your closest inadequate, lazy, and dangerous friends.
I'm forced to look at the deeper picture. I'm forced to comment on “people” when that many terrible ones are glamorized as worthwhile and capable of being leaders. It matters as long as I don't choose to commit suicide. In precisely this moment you have to understand that when your larger picture is as corruptible and fickle as the human animal, it is not rational or helpful to rely endlessly and needlessly on the artifice of this faux leadership. It isn't hard or unexpected to practice bad habits until they feel normal. It speaks to why I have to constantly write and pick apart what I'm doing in life. How much of me feels so normal that's actually beyond destructive to those around me and my long-term feasibility as a human? If you're willing to look, your mind can be a picture of emaciated squalor that nobody had the perspective or bravery to inform you about.
The work of paying attention is hard. I rail against cliches because they skip over the work of identifying why they're true. To be in the moment can be to suffer, and suffer a lot. It can be anxiety and depression. It can be always throwing down a wall of judgment and doubt between you and the people you meet. And it's why you have to habitualize recognizing how you're practicing doing so. Am I writing to beat myself up, give myself excuses, or try too terribly hard to convince myself of something stupid I refuse to find better words for? Am I repeating myself for effect and stress or because that's all I have to say? Am I truly frustrated at “the world” and what it's constantly doing to me, or that after another groggy night of television and big dreaming, I'm still freezing in basketball shorts writing this, instead of seeing what I want to come true beyond my living room? It's not always clear.
Something I do notice too often is how the words never match up with the actions. That's how I get to employ the word “superficial” more than any one word should ever be employed. That's how I get to bitch about all the “friends” I never see or talk to who are perfectly happy to agree with you about your ideas or plans, and would love to see something like that, but are actually more happy in their game servers or work station or classroom. That's how you see all the “informed” and insistent commentary that tells you what's wrong with the country lamenting how far we've fallen, but if I tell them, “Live free, right here, just put me on the phone with someone with the resources to get us started” nothing still happens. The deeper truth, the fundamental things about us are what is shining through, not that I believe you believe anything about what you're saying.
I like to think my world reflects to it's best ability what I actually think and feel. I believe I can run a general food or service establishment as good as anyone, so I tried. I believe my future is perilously threatened if I don't learn more about being self-sustainable and connect in a more informed and democratic way on a smaller scale, so I bought land. I think the overwhelming amount of conversations I get into and criticism I get is so beyond the pale unfair as to border on abuse, so I ask you to explain yourself, get genuinely angry when you don't, and am more sad than I'll never get credit for in knowing when and why we can't be friends anymore. It wasn't because I blog. It's not that I'm too confusing. It's that you're not willing to admit...anything, ever.
Our daily practices aren't about who we want to be. We're practicing who we are. When we're “innocently lying” about our circumstances, that should bug and scare you. When we're able to overlook and downplay ethics, literally just general ethics, you need to bring that reality to the center of your being and figure out what it's done to pollute how you operate in the world. If you're not sounding as “crazy” as me, why? If you're not worried about the day your town becomes Flint or New Orleans or someone wants to privatize and bankrupt or kick out your neighbors, it's not that I sound too critical, you're a lying person who's dead inside. It feels so normal.
The keys to respecting our station and relationships to each other aren't just dangling in front of us, they're perpetually thrown right between our eyes. In order to not make yourself crazy with the joke and stress of just existing at all, you have to do the work and be honest. If you can't account for your outside life in honest terms, I can only suffer in thinking about what's going on internally. Here, another brilliant opportunity. Do you believe I'm suffering? If not, you're broken, because you can't even recognize what it's doing to you. You're not looking as deeply at your face as I am. Are you unwilling or unable? Are you going to say out loud how much you don't care what I think or if I die? If not, I'm only going to keep doing what I do and tell you what you're actually saying. I'm going to work around it or throw it back in your face. I'm gonna keep suffering your face trying to look and talk like something deserving while you plagiarize and kill even the memory of what the real work looks like.
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