Louis CK makes me thinky
Louis CK on how we are surrounded by awesome and don’t even notice (warning: NSFW language, unless you work someplace very relaxed and hep):
So, so true. And I wish I could say that I am one of those people that, of course, ya know, it ain’t about me.
BUT IT IS.
Damn it.
Right here is the problem with my country. We have everything, frickin’ everyhing, and it’s not good enough. We live in an age in which we live longer, and healthier, lives than ever, and we freak out and worry and complain about how unhealthy and horrible the modern world is. We have marvelous toys, inventions of passionate and talented humans, and we complain that they don’t shave off a few more nanoseconds of work. We have marvelous toys and games, and complain bitterly because sometimes they break down. It’s like we’re petulant children, unable to enjoy what we have, always wanting the next thing, and unable to accept when things don’t go exactly our way.
And I’m just as guilty as everyone. So a late New Years resolution: I’m going to try to enjoy the wonders of the world, and complain about the mostly trivial annoyances less often (Read: I’m going to try as hard as I can to do this, and probably fail more than a little). I’m going to try to appreciate the marvels we are surrounded with, and the people who make them possible. Gratitude is good. Not the mushy, pointless kind of religion, where all the gratitude is placed on the nonexistent, and the actual benefactors ignored (how many graces before meals ever say, “hey, thanks, farmers!”?). I mean the concrete, wow, a whole bunch of talented people made my computer possible, and all the cool things it does, and maybe I can remember to acknowledge how cool that is before I start bitching about how, say, Chrome and Flash have started behaving funky on a few websites. Because really, the benefits I get from these things far outweighs the few annoyances that arrive from the natural tendency of the world to fail to be perfect.
Or, to put it another way, I know damn well that I am not perfect, nor do I particularly want to be, and in fact would argue that “perfect” is an incoherent concept born of simplistic ideologies. So I’m not really entitled to other people’s perfection, right? Maybe I can just be thankful for all the good things that come into this world because there are so many crazy talented, hardworking folk out there.
A new Poe’s Law?
So I think we need a new version of Poe’s Law, one specifically for Republican presidential candidates. I say this because, several days later, I still find myself hoping that maybe Rick Perry was actually just doing a clever satirical bit with his comment about the passing of “Kim Jong The Second.”
But alas, in this hyper-connected world, this is the kind of thing the Republicans are mostly giving us. The Cult of Ignorance has, at last, fully unveiled itself as The Cult of Idiocy. These are people who are positively proud of the fact that they are dribbling morons. And it’s these people the Republicans offer up to us as being qualified to deal with the realities of our interconnected world.
Or, to put it another way, here’s the scary thought: Newt Gingrich, in this picture, actually looks sane. He at least has a grasp of the international situation. I mean, he knows there are other countries. He can probably name a lot of them. He can probably name leaders. In the Republican primary season, that is some seriously egghead shit right there. I’m surprised the other candidates aren’t making fun of him already, calling him Poindexter and the like because he might know more about Mexico, say, that what he gleaned from reading the Taco Bell menu.
Mostly, the take away here is that, when Newt Gingrich is looking like the less scary option, things have gone galloping past bad and right into holy fuck I’m wetting myself territory. A significant portion of the American electorate is positively proud of stupidity, and has the candidates to prove it.
So, seriously, we need a new Poe’s Law for Republican presidential candidates. Because at this point, there is no satire too extreme to not pass for the real thing.
Rick Perry, you ignorant slut
There just aren’t words:
I’m actually surprised that it took this long for the “Christians are so persecuted!” card to be played in this election cycle. Given the mindlessness of most of the Republican candidates, their bigotry, and their aversion to anything that looks like reality or the truth, it was a natural card to play. The delusional belief that Christians are a persecuted minority in America is a persistent one, completely divorced from the actual world of facts. It would be funny, if it wasn’t so dangerous.
So, if you are a Christian in America, and cry into your pillow at night as you contemplate the horrible persecution you face in this country, I can only say this (via Ecstatic Ghost). Well, I can also say “Go fuck yourself.” Profanity sometimes is the only reasonable response.
Suffering as a fetish
Pardon the short post, but continued ill health has ruined Thanksgiving for me and I’m basically being a bum in bed. In the mean time, here’s a pointer to some good reading material: Susan Jacoby talking about the obscene exploitation and love of suffering exhibited by right wing Christian presidential candidates.
It rather makes me want to throw up in my mouth a little, though that may just come from being sick.
Thanksgiving: right idea, but so wrong
Thanksgiving, I’d like to propose, explains the United States perfectly.
Let me explain. Let’s look at the good side: thanksgiving! Not a bad idea, that. Even a hard-headed atheist like me can see the goodness in taking time to give thanks. Granted, it’s a bit of an odd, amorphous thing, this thanks. I don’t believe God, so it seems pretty silly to thank Him/Her. But there’s plenty of real recipients of thanks, and being human we sometimes take those people for granted. It’s not that we’re jerks, we’re just busy, you know? Living our lives, doing our thing, getting by, finding time to have some fun. So we forget.
Given that, not a bad idea to have some specific times we stop and say hey, thanks. It’s like taking time to remember the web of connections that sustain us. As such, I’m even rather fond of secular versions of saying grace at meal time — I might not thank God (see above), but again, plenty of real people to thank and remember.
But back to Thanksgiving. It sure is a nice myth, isn’t it? All that Kum Bay Ya stuff, Pilgrims and Native Americans sitting down and getting wasted with some really good weed that one guy brought, and the pumpkin pie and the turkey and all. Sounds sweet, sounds like…
But back to Thanksgiving. It sure is a nice myth, isn’t it? All that Kum Bay Ya stuff, Pilgrims and Native Americans sitting down and getting wasted with some really good weed that one guy brought, and the pumpkin pie and the turkey and all. Sounds sweet, sounds like…
Oh, yeah. Bullshit.
Fuck.
And here’s why Thanksgiving so perfectly sums up the United States as a nation: sweet idea, bathed in blood and genocide. I think, when future peoples write the history of the nation that was the United States, that is how they will remember it. Such lofty daring in its ideals — such horrible failure, all too often.
Yet, for all that, I cherish those ideals. Our greatest crime, after all, is simply that we are human, angel and devil both. It might be good, as we give thanks and do all those warm and fuzzy Thanksgiving things, to remember this day as a challenge to better live up to our ideals. To correct the wrongs that can be corrected. To dare to be better. Dare to live our ideals, rather than just give them voice.
The cult of Maria Lionza
Still a bit knackered from the cold that won’t quite die, so this post is not going to be much more than a sharing. In this case, an interesting Al Jazeera article on the Venezuelan Cult of Maria Lionza. I share this mostly because, while I’m no big fan of religion, I am fascinated by cults like these — mostly because of what they say about human creativity, the fluid mad-mixing-sharing between cultures, and the spirit of resistance to hierarchy.
Of course, it’s good to remember that there’s a definite danger in relying on such beliefs for solace in a harsh world. The cynic in me can’t help but wonder how much those in power benefit from marginalized people having this kind of outlet. I’d love to see that mad creative wonderful energy used in more rational ways — when humans do that, mountains move.
All Soul’s Procession, 2011
Today was the All Soul’s Procession, aka Day of the Dead. This is the big community event, held the Sunday following the traditional All Soul’s Day. Went with my sister, which was nice, and marked two days in a row we hung out together, since she also came for a bit last night when I saw my friends Daniel and Patty and their kids. I got to meet some more of my sister’s friends tonight, which is always fun because she moves through some crazy wonderful circles.
As all good Tucsonans know, the Procession is probably the best thing about Tucson. Thousands and thousands of people, all marchin’ or watchin’, dressed up or not, having fun. It’s a night to remember those who have died, all those who have been lost — the personal losses of loved ones, the ones lost to war and poverty, even, as several groups remind us every year, the species cut down by human greed. It’s a night to vow to live, despite the fragility of our lives. It is sad and funny and sexy and lively as all get out.
But it’s not somber, though it has somber moments. I’m always reminded of the fate of the universe as we know it on this night — that horrible ol’ hag, the Second Law of Thermodynamics, and the inevitable decay. But like the universe shines brightly, almost defiantly against that fate (complexity, that things that gives us stars and planets and squirrels, is a localized finger lifted to the inevitable), we humans are so temporary. Such brief, flickering flames. But our lives are big to us, and I think there is something glorious in shouting with laughter and joy at the loss we all suffer. We will not go gently into that dark night, we will go with a party, dammit.
Watching the parade tonight, I got hit hard with that feeling of love — for just everything. Everyone. We are such a silly species, so often so small and limited in our thinking. But we can be so large, so creative, so amazing, and it’s on nights like this, under the cool desert night sky, that you can see it. The funny costumes, the sad ones, the dramatic ones. The dancing, the singing. And just the simple image of thousands of people, from all walks of live, having fun. No masters, just equals, together, pure anarchy, peaceful. There was a moment when an anti-war group was going past, and my sister said something about “will we ever learn?” The cynical part of me says no, but then in a moment like this I also think, “but dang if we aren’t just daring and crazy enough to keep trying.” There’s hope in that.
One tradition with the procession is the urn, in which you can place bits of paper that you can write anything you want on — remembrances of people who’ve gone, symbolic statements to let go of parts of yourself, whatever. I didn’t get a piece of paper into the urn, but that’s okay. This year marked a big, glorious funeral for me, letting go of a lot of things, the Not Gregory Things, so that Gregory can truly be born. Out there, in the procession, you know what’s important, and what’s not. I just have to remember that lesson. It’s been a momentous year, in the world, and just for me personally. Change is in the air, and embracing that is the only thing I want right now. That means getting rid of some stuff that isn’t me, and really embracing the bits that are. If you think “oh, blogging material,” you ain’t wrong. If, that is, I can find the words. I also suspect that I’m going to be annoying the heck out of friends. Be prepared for long talks!
For a small taste, a short video. Keep in mind night+crappy camera on phone. But it gives a small idea…
The value of liberation movements
Over at Camels with Hammers, Daniel Fincke is tackling a Naturalistic ethical defense of homosexuality. In his opening post, he sets out the objections, as he sees them, to naturalistic ethics, especially in regards to homosexuality — it’s a long, thoughtful overview of the concerns and pitfalls. At one point, he had this lovely bit:
…the gay community has thrived by refining the ability to see value creation and cultural forms as open-ended and capable of great variety and reinvention. Its greatest cultural contribution to modern Western culture (besides its monumental achievements in securing much deserved understanding and legal rights for gay people) has been in its modeling for all of society what it means to truly define for yourself your own sexuality, and your own values in general, against severe, and often cruel and sometimes deadly, social and political and religious pressure to conform to rigid one-size fits all molds of human nature.
The gay community has led the charge more than any other group in resisting the suffocating and falsely labeled boxes of “nature” and “normality” in terms of gender, sexuality, community, and numerous other regions of values. The gay community has role modeled self-conscious, individualistic and communal defiance and recreation in the realm of values. They have helped us in incalculable cultural ways in our process of advancing the Enlightenment’s self-conscious belief that not only the physical world but the social world can be imaginatively changed for the good by innovations in values.
Which got me thinking today about how liberation movements help not just the group in question, but the society as a whole. It’s a weird fact of oppression that the oppressing group often hurts itself in the process of maintaining its hegemony. To keep others out, it has to define itself more and more narrowly and rigidly. Men, say, get locked in an insanely narrow definition of manhood. I’ve had a lifetime struggling with that, since I’m a heterosexual male who doesn’t much fit that mold…I don’t want to claim, of course, that my struggle is anything like what the main victims of sexism and heteronormativity suffer, but it is of a kind, though of a lesser degree. And I’m very aware of how the way the feminist and LGBT movements have changed the conversation in our culture has helped me.
While short-term thinking may make the gains of a liberation movement look like a loss for the group in control of society, I think that’s only if you focus on the crude level of raw power. The bigger gains to be had — more freedom for everyone — make life better for everyone.
Authenticity
Via Butterflies and Wheels comes this gem, a review of a book I find myself wanting to read: The Authenticity Hoax. I’ve been thinking about this stuff a lot, especially as it relates to movements, and my decidedly mixed feelings about same.
To wit: I am a vegetarian, but find myself at odds in many ways with what constitutes the vegetarian, and especially vegan, movements. Partly it is a simple matter that I see the world, and all the issues that arise from living in it, as massively complex and thus not easily boiled down to simple answers. But the other is a Herd Phenomena that arises whenever large groups of us human folk come together for common cause. There’s the usual problem of “ingredient list” dogma (believe x, y and z, or you are not one of us). A great example is the vegan movement, which gets positively psychotic about very literal ingredient lists. Use honey? Fuck you, you ain’t one of us, you murderous pig!
And yeah, I’ve pretty much had that reaction blown in my face. More than once, in fact.
But the other part is, well, a dick measuring contest. It’s hard not to see the funny in it when it comes to the vegetarian movement. If, that is, we’re talking about people interested in the ethical issues. You end up, all too often, with people who claim compassion and kindess as their highest ideals, and they really want you to know it, and they really want you to see it, and they really want to tell you how you’re failing at it, and they really want you to know that they are So Much Better Than You. To be sure, they aren’t nearly as annoying as the health nuts, whose arrogance is usually the only thing bigger than their staggering ignorance.
Be that as it may, that tendency towards LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME is one that bugs the heck out of me, and makes the movement seem like one that places a far greater premium on appearances than facts and, you know, actual positive effects.
In all fairness, I must cop to having fallen into that trap way too often myself, including with my vegetarianism. It’s one of the areas, I think, where embracing science, and its implications about how we should think about things, has helped me grow, if only a little. I do have to say, though, that it’s a bit daunting to realize how complicated a thing it is to say, embrace the ideas of kindness and compassion as ideals. Being human means that even the best of intentions can become distorted and useless. We are social creatures, and worse, social creatures with a tendency towards hierarchy. So we do like to strut our stuff to claim the social rewards, and I’m a bit embarrassed when I think of some of my less noble moments, that way.
That thing about Facebook, and the bigger thing it points to
Thinking about my thinking about Facebook yesterday (owwww…that just gave me a headache), and I realized the Thing lurking behind my detestation of Facebook as a social experience:
There’s a premium on symbolic gestures, and really, deep down, I f*&king hate symbolic gestures.
I remember, back during my attempt at a fling with Christianity during high school (some people go self-destructive by rotting their brains with drugs; I just attempted another route) that one bit from the Gospels really stood out. I dug it — I got it, in that “deep in the bones” sense. It’s when Jesus tells people not to pray publically, but to do so quietly, in private. It’s all in fancy Biblical language, of course, or whatever dumbed down version the various modern translations use (this church was keen on the New International Version), but essentially Jesus said, “Yo, jackasses, don’t be showing off how holy you are. It’s prayer, not a dick-measuring trophy.”
Now, let me tell you folks — I’m a smart guy, always was, but back then, when I was what, 15? Total, complete, OMG dumbass. And even Dumbass Gregory took a total of about 2 seconds to look around and see, at this church that he was attending, that pretty much everyone around him was praying as loudly and obviously as they could so everyone would see how holy they were. How downright Righteous, ya know, full on fire with the Lord.
I relate this not to particularly poke at the Christians. There is nothing unique in their hypocrisy in this: it’s just being human. All too often we are as fixated on, or more fixated on, being seen to be good, rather than just being good. Narcissism is an ever-present threat in the human mind, one to which we all fall prey (I just wrote “pray” there, heh).
The trouble is, of course, we can get so fixated on being seen to make the right noises that we don’t even bother thinking about whether they are, in fact, the right noises. Or whether making said noises does anything concrete other than, you know, make noise. We can end up in a place where we decide that, oh, that guy didn’t post the inspirational thing about cancer survivors to his status, so he’s a bad, selfish person. We can get to where we think that mouthing platitudes actually counts as doing something. I’m a weird person, really — idealistic in many ways, but at heart also deeply practical. I hate wasted effort, and symbolic gestures almost always seem like that. I see things like that and I just want to scream, “Shut up and get to work!” The rest is just noise.
