Passion and Dispassion

Could it be

2006-03-28T07:31:14Z

"Yes I have risked. I hope I am always able to risk everything for the right and just cause."

I'm out of practice. It's been so long since I really cared about something enough to put myself on the line. At first I was afraid I was too selfish to ever do that again, and then I wondered if maybe I was too selfish to have ever really done that before. But there's something about a beautiful, genuine woman who saves her brightest smiles for you, her biggest laughs for you...her warmest touch. Something about that makes the knees of cynics quake and the brows of pessimists sweat. Something about that inspires, "Be that man." Well, maybe you are.

Go for broke and don't look back.

What a great little consumer I am

2006-03-26T03:50:58Z

I like going to the mall. I have a Gap credit card and three pairs of "low-rise boot cut" jeans. I get Starbucks and designer brand underwear. I sit in my new model year car and plug in my mp3 player and talk on my RAZR. My lap top and my mp3 player are the same brand. All my shoes, my belts, and my watches are the same brand. All my solid color dress shirts are the same brand. I have a Bally's membership, a Netflix membership, and a Napster membership. I am one hell of a fantastic consumer, thank you very much.

Tiny puzzle pieces

2006-03-18T23:55:56Z

I'm glad your mascara didn't come out of the pillow case and that t-shirt I was wearing. I'm glad you left a few things behind in my dresser drawer. I'm glad you saved that sketch you drew on my computer.

Thank you for those constant reminders that you'll be back, for those tiny pieces that make the big picture clear.

The academic persuasion

2006-01-25T08:44:03Z

Or, the lack thereof. My semester started this week and it is clear that schooling has been downgraded to just about the dead last thing on my mind. My schedule is not challenging this time around, and it doesn't look like it will be too engaging either. I was already a pretty lackluster student as it was, so there's no telling what depths I will have troweled come May when my second year of graduate study will have come to an end.

So what is occupying my mind? Well, mostly trivia meaningless to anyone but me. Also, being financially strapped tends to create a mental atmosphere where everything revolves around money, and with the upcoming purchase of a car, my mind is filled not with due assignments and dissertation work but with makes, models, MSRP's, and mileage.

Oh, and just so you know, I love with my mind.

I know too much

2006-01-08T09:11:55Z

In my short time being a self-aware adult I've come to hear accounts of so many lives. It's my field that I'm awkwardly plunging into head first; you can't be naive. You have to know that there are people that have nothing and you have to account for them in your view on the world. Then you have to make sure you account for the people that have everything. You have to account for the sick and the healthy, the famous and the ignored, the black and the white, the beautiful and the ugly, you and then me...everything. How do you do that?

To take it all in is to leave your mind ravaged by conflict and disparity. To take it all in is to render your views as thrashed as the world itself until in your head nothing really makes a whole lot of sense and nothing is certain...you know a lot but no matter what anyone asks you, you have to say "I don't fuckin know." Then you vanish like everyone else.

Back in town

2006-01-03T06:28:31Z

I had a good time seeing the family and a couple of old friends this past holiday week, and now I'm back. The six hour Greyhound sucked mostly because it was heading in the direction of the one place I'd rather not be. How did I end up with everything I want to be near being so far away? How did I end up caring so little about what is right here in front of me?

My little trips are always a wake-up call. Spending time with real friends reminds me how annoying the people here are. Experiencing someone else's life reminds me how lackluster my own is. Seeing "different" makes me want change. I'd forgotten what it was like to feel comfortable.

I need a fuckin job.

When things stop working

2005-12-20T08:00:51Z

I come to rely on some things, foolishly, that are supposed to help me feel better. Go out for a good meal with friends, run my ass off at the gym, take a nap, be productive, be lazy, have a couple drinks, stay up late, sleep in, get up early, talk on the phone, talk on the computer, eat something sweet, buy something cool, take a hot shower, ace a final. They're all about as reliable as I am. I have to learn to not look to anything to give me peace of mind. Goddamn I'm bored.

I looked her in the eye, and though I knew she couldn't hear me, I said loud and clear, "I don't deserve you." I knew what she'd say, so she didn't have to. "Who decides what you deserve?" I sighed like I do too often in a day, "I do." I felt like a mistake waiting to be made.

Miscellany

2005-12-11T08:15:42Z

I am so sick and tired of spending time with some people. Procrastination and disenchantment are probably my two biggest defining characteristics. Mediocre is a good way to sum up 90% of things, myself included. I don't deserve the friends I have. I don't deserve the things I wish I had. I can't stand someone because they stole their sense of humor from mid-90s sitcom television. I can't get over being unattractive. All of my problems are in my head and in my grasp. These are empty words. I have no idea why I post shit like this. I have no idea what to get anyone for Christmas. I've been spending way too much money eating out lately. I hate my ghetto blastin' hoodlum neighbors. I haven't accomplished a day's worth of work in the last week. Blah blah blah, blah blah.

What really gets me

2005-11-16T05:36:19Z

I hate turning on the light in the bathroom. Every morning is a disappointment. Big red aching bumps. Dried flakes of dead skin. Small white sores.

Acne vulgaris, taxonomically speaking.

What really gets me, is that people don't even have to get to know me. One look to see I'm horribly flawed, like all my major shortcomings bubble up around my nose and my chin. Ugly, for as long as I can remember.

Stoicism, and Stolidity

2005-11-04T08:06:55Z

I admire the true stoics. In fact, stoicism is my most highly admired trait, and it is something I yearn for. It is somewhat odd, though, because the trait requires, by definition, suffering. Who would yearn for this? Something masochistic in me actually yearns for real suffering, a chance to prove my mettle. Go ahead and let me down, take from me...see if I care.

I've known those who have suffered and witnessed suffering. I respect surviving to the utmost, but there is something about true stoicism that is artful, elegant, and genuinely beautiful. It does require suffering, but suffering is all around us, and the opportunity for stoicism is nearly constant. Regardless, it is indeed rare.

I don't know what it feels like. I identify with stoicism like children identify with super-heroes. I am stolid, mimicking the stoics of my imagination. I've overcome nothing and I have no great story.

Dissonance, and Dysthymia

2005-11-02T06:57:34Z

Personality, it seems, is about as much who we are as it is who we want to be, and perhaps it's even more the dissonance between these. Compensation is the word.

Who we want to be is typically pretty similar from person to person. We want to be happy, right? It looks different for each person, but that word...happiness, contentment, satisfaction...we all want it. And what we are looks pretty similar from person to person, as well. I'm comfortable claiming most of us aren't at the apex of satisfaction or that most of us are missing some vital elements to our happiness. That's life.

What I'm tired of is jumping to the conclusion that mood is somehow invariably connected to satisfaction. For long I've blamed frequent bad moods on the things I say I lack in my life that I wish I had, and for long I have been mistaken in doing so. Irritability, impatience, frustration, and self-loathing aren't about the things I feel I lack but more centrally about my underlying philosophy on who I am and what the world is like. Drop what I lack in my lap and it won't remove the ideas I maintain that this world is a terrible place, where its human inhabitants are in a constant state of self-induced peril and destruction. Achieving my life's goals won't change the notions I maintain that most human beings, myself included, just plain suck; ego- and ethnocentricity run rampant, understanding and true tolerance practically don't exist, and it is literally dog eat dog out there. This is my revelation about my negativity, my depressive attitude: neither reflect anything about what I have and do not have, but are vibrant reflections of, simply, my self as defined by my basic philosophies, the answers I'd give you to questions like "Who are you?" or "What is this world about?"

With a new perspective I feel liberated, not from my cynicism, but from the long encompassing notion that my flaws and shortcomings must eventually be vanquished...that I need to compensate for them or repress them, that I should frenetically search for the means to move from sad=bad to happy=good. Stripping away the moral aspect, it is no longer "bad" to feel bad. I am not a problem to be solved, but a walking representation of what I truly think and believe, ergo feel, and that is so pure, so genuine, that it doesn't seem right to cover or dilute.

I know who I am, and I no longer feel constricted by who I want to be. For all my faults, my life continues. Sometimes utterly begrudged and horridly sabotaged by myself, my life continues. My goals creep closer and I work hard towards them, but not for the sake of happiness and not for the sake of lifting myself out of typical despair, but because I respect them as admirable goals. I respect them enough to allow my life to be about them and not about me becoming "who I want to be."

Like they say, happiness is not something that happens to you, but a choice you make. Is it at all fathomable that I feel no anxiety in choosing not? Could anyone understand that I truly forsake positivity, by choice, in favor of upholding negativity because "it's me"? Could you strip "good" from "happy" and "bad" from "sad"?

I quit long ago

2005-10-16T07:31:59Z

Look at this profession I've chosen. Forever will I pour into other people my own life energy and watch where they soar off to while I remain grounded in selfish self-defeat. Where are they now, and where have I always been?

It is sick because it is a choice I make. I know I waste my own life energy, my good intentions, my dreams, my desires. So why not donate them to you, to them, to anyone who will take it and who might need it. I choose to render myself obsolete, to be that gas station someone stopped at in the middle of nowhere when they were running on fumes, now a hundred miles back waiting for another starved soul destined for the border.

I know I am wasteful. I don't know how to use, so I give, but it is not noble. It is how I quit.

So I walk around with this rope in my hand

2005-10-05T02:08:56Z

"A tendency to melancholy....let it be observed, is a misfortune, not a fault."

"If what I feel were equally distributed to the whole human family, there would not be one cheerful face on the earth. Whether I shall ever be better I can not tell; I awfully forebode I shall not. To remain as I am is impossible; I must die or be better, it appears to me."

I've been reading some articles about former President Abraham Lincoln whose depressed musings you see above. Over and over I find that he certainly suffered from depressive episodes and suicidal thoughts, and over and over I find authors remarking that his character (depression and all) was vital to his success at essentially saving this nation from the brink of ruin in it's most desperate time.

For reasons it is difficult for me to articulate, I am fascinated. I enjoy reading Lincoln's own words, from poetry and prose to letters of condolences. I enjoy examining the lines of wear, the sad eyes, and the downtrodden expressions in his portraits. I enjoy reading people's accounts of the man they say "melancholy dripped from as he walked."

Dissertation Development, Day 15

2005-09-21T04:31:09Z

Show of hands. Who is sick and tired of hearing about attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder(ADHD)?

That's what I thought. Me too. Still, the more and more I dig into the research it seems like the mental disorder - which is simultaneously the most widely heard of and most misunderstood - is irrevocably connected to the development of troubled youth who go on to be criminal adults.

From last time we know that any sample of offenders is likely to have an extensive history of childhood maltreatment, but what connection there really is remains elusive because far more victimized children never become criminals (or, at least, are never caught and arrested). In other words, being the victim of child-abuse far from dooms one to being maladaptive or criminal their entire life. Add on the ADHD confound: offenders are also much more likely to have exhibited diagnosable hyperactive or impulsive behaviors as children. Also, longitudinal studies have found time and time again that children with ADHD (despite aggressive treatment) go on to be diagnosable anti-socials, alcoholics, abusers, etc. So the question begs to be asked and is thus far unanswered in formal literature: what's the nature of the link between child abuse and ADHD, if any? I mean, which should I be dedicating a disseration to?

The etiology of ADHD is, despite the ridiculous number of studies dealing with it from a large number of disciplines, sadly unknown. Right now it looks nearly entirely biological in nature...probably having to do with inherited genetic brain mechanic dysfunction. Replicated twin studies have all but proven that childhood environment has very little to do with the development of ADHD. But wait, examine any abused child population and you'll find that diagnoses like learning disorders, ADHD, etc. are up to seven times more likely than in the non-abused population. If most researchers agree that ADHD is almost entirely a physiological or genetic issue, why the increased rates of abuse and traumatic experience? Does having attention difficulties make you more prone to be traumatized in early childhood? Does a learning disorder decimate coping mechanisms? Does being a hyperactive child increase the likelihood of your parent physically abusing you?

That last one doesn't seem to far-fetched, but still, what we might be saying is that criminals (we're talking your garden variety sociopaths here) are born ready and merely reinforced as they grow up. Could the criminalistic tendencies cocktail be one part genetic inheritance of ADHD symptoms and one part traumatization or victimization, shaken violently for 15 years by near constant maladaption problems and social-cognition dysfunction? Maybe.

I still don't have a research question.

Days like this one here

2005-09-14T22:44:55Z

I can feel it as soon as I wake up. My brain sleeps in, sleeps all day. I only eat half of my breakfast because it's just not good, not enough. I don't want to go to work, or class, and I don't want to stay home.

The wailing child next to me on the bus doesn't bother me because nothing can bother me. The meth-mouth trying to sell me bus tickets doesn't bother me because nothing can bother me. My life doesn't bother me. Everything fails to engage me. I don't have opinions.

The muscles in my face feel atrophied and my head aches. I go the entire day without making eye contact with anyone. I walk by people in the cramped hallways and don't look at them, not their eyes, not their mouths, not their pants or shoes, whole lives and stories just colored blurs in my peripheral vision. I go the whole day without saying a single word. I let people try their one-liners on me, use me like they use a dozen other ears.

At the end of the day I'll tell you it was "okay" or "fine." You know. Like, pretty average I guess. I'll go to bed early and sleep great. Tomorrow I should care again.

Dissertation Development, Day 7

2005-09-13T04:48:25Z

I'm, like, way into developmental psychology, and being a student of forensic psychology, the question of why an individual becomes a criminal from a psychological perspective is by far the most fascinating.

The question has seen a lot of research throughout the history of social science, and in the last twenty years the research has become extremely narrow because we'd thought we'd found the answer. The "cycle of violence" was heralded as a fantastic explanation for the majority of criminality. The basic tenet is that children who have offender parents are likely to be neglected or abused and to have genetic predispositions to deviancy and become offenders as they develop askew of what we'd say is ideal growth. Abuse leads to abusers, victims becomes offenders.

A lot of people made their names by delving into this concept. It offered psychologists a multitude of avenues to explore the idea; it had genetic links, developmental links, social psychology links, learning links, attachment links, etc. What this means now is that there are literally hundreds of pieces from all over the country (many international as well) that have to do with this; and what this means is that lately some very good meta-analyses have been done.

What was found when a few researchers pooled all of this data? Well, they found what all the original researchers had: the vast majority of offenders have a history of victimization of one sort or another, and most experienced it when they were children. We knew that, but what we didn't realize was how piss poor childhood victimization was at actually predicting future criminality. It sucks terribly at that.

So while there is a lot to say for the effects of childhood maltreatment, we're still missing our causal link we thought we had. So we are forced to harken back to, "Why?!" Well, I'm fortunate that this is my field of interest and that the research is at a point where it must blossom yet again, accept new ideas, and look at fresh theories. Just in time for me to start working on my doctoral dissertation.

Now, what do I do? What has been missed, overlooked, ignored, or falsely rejected in the past. It's back into the research for me. Any ideas?

Some shit I was thinking

2005-09-12T03:17:59Z

I've always enjoyed media. You know, music, movies, art. You don't have to be any sort of aficionado to know that much of media is an attempt to either capture or escape reality. Obviously television does that. I mean, they exaggerate and dramaticize and all but they try to stay rooted in reality because they don't want people to get disconnected personally like we do from science fiction and the like. Some theorists would claim that media shapes reality because we eventually see the real world portrayed on television as the ideal world and (perhaps uncosciously) act in accordance with that. I buy into that.

Unfortunately, that sort of escapism is frustrating as hell. I don't have the hilarious and diverse gaggle of best friends living near me. I don't have interesting random encounters with people. I'm not lovably quirky, just flawed. People are horribly inarticulate and crass. People who are trying to be heroes get eyes rolled at them. Pretty people suck as playing ugly people. Who says shit like the shit you hear written for actors?

Anyways, yeah...it's just a lot less engaging than it ever is on television or in movies. Probably why I love watching movies so much.

krispy3d @ 2005-08-29T18:02:00

2005-08-30T01:03:01Z

The purpose of my character

2005-08-25T20:50:38Z

Detective Vincent Hanna said it best when he explained to his wife why he deals with the world in the
way that he does:

"I gotta hold on to my angst. I preserve it because I need it. It keeps me sharp, on the edge, where I gotta be."

I have a somewhat depressed attitude toward life in general. I'm not likely to see the sunny side of most double-edged issues, and I maintain a cynical outlook on the world and especially human beings. Sometimes it gets a bit ridiculous, but most of the time it's a stable, enduring dysthymia, disapproval, and dissatisfaction.

And I actually work to preserve it, because I feel like I need it. In my field where the mind of the criminally deviant is the paramount of my interest, there is no room for sunny dispositions. The truth of the matter is that for the vast majority of people life is just plain difficult; it is hard, hell of complicated, frustrating, disappointing, and this is especially true for those afflicted with a criminalistic tendency. They make life a lot harder for themselves, and for someone like me, if I want to step in and help solve problems and make changes, having a "it's okay, everything's going to be fine, look at the bright side of your situation" attitude is not going to help. My clients will have extremely difficult roads ahead of them, frought with relapse, failure, and discouragement from every angle. Their family lives are miserable, their self-concepts are dingy at best, and their environment is criminogenic to say the least. These people do not need a smile. They need plans, strategies, and no-bullshit assessments. If I go my whole career never hearing, "I like talking to you because it's fun," then I'll be quite satisfied.

It's also vital for maintaining an open environment for the counseling of these individuals. I believe (though I have nothing to back this up but my own personal experiences) that cheery people are intimidating when you have problems that need discussing. Nobody likes confessing to the type of person who is obviously just brimming with positivity because it feels like, "I have problems and you clearly don't." A slightly depressed but still confident demeanor is more honest and it levels the emotional playing field, and it's more apt for enticing the sort of information you need to get. Besides, you are trying to instill confidence in them but you don't want them walking out of your office unabreast of the seriousness of their situation, because for some of these people, failure means imprisonment. And you don't want them calling you from jail cursing, "You said everything was going to be fine!"

So I toss optimism (as a rule) out the window. If I have a good reason to be optimistic, I can be, but I err on the side of pessimism.

Politics is the new philosophy

2005-08-23T23:16:28Z

In past ages, the world of the scholars used to revolve around philosophy. Lengthy debates between great minds would involve topics like the universe and its principles, the nature of man, ethics, etc. The common thread among all laboriously discussed concepts was that they were (and still are) unknowable; either they were simply unknowable or required a basis of religious faith - like how the universe was born - or they were topics that were uknowable only because there was no right or wrong "answer", per se - like the nature of man and ethics.

Look around. While there are philosophical debates that mirror those of the classics, it is much more common to stumble across two people discussing (or arguing, more likely) politics. How can I liken philosophical arbitration to political debate? Well, just like in the metaphysical realm, the real truth of politics is entirely unknowable. The average citizen has absolutely no clue what is going on in the upper echelons of political leadership. Regardless of this country's extreme openness with its directives, the bottom line is that political intelligence, operation, and decision-making is far, far beyond the scope of what even the best newspapers and pundits can report. Nobody can really claim to know jack shit about the President's truest motivations behind doing what he does. This is probably the case in many nations, but in the United States where our standard of living is sky high and our way of life is set in concrete and our interests span the entire globe, it is especially true.

So why do people act like they do and get so heated over political debate? Why do people argue their side like they have uncovered all of the truths of the matter, like they really know even a shred of what is going on? I guess it's because it is just fun to do that. When you know your opponent is as clueless as you are, it's easy to say whatever you want because you know it is irrefutable.

Which brings me to my point; while my political ideology is not in line with our current President's, I have a hard time criticizing him because I understand that I hold none of the information that he must have which drives his decisions. This Iraq deal has worn out all my patience. I am so sick of every day seeing headlines about another bomb in Iraq that killed American soldiers. I am sick and tired of it all, and I want the attention and the money that Iraq is getting to be redirected to pressing domestic issues, of which there are many. However, unlike these protestors you read about everywhere, I have no idea what fire is under Bush right now...I don't know what he knows, and somewhere in that massive void of my ignorance is probably the explanation of why Bush considers all this Iraq stuff totally necessary. And my guess is it's not all about his dad, or all about oil, or all about terrorism, or all about anything he himself says in addresses to us the public.

I choose to live in an outlandishly complicated representative democracy with an intricate network of necessary contacts and dependencies that exist world-wide. I don't know how to secure this nation, so I'm going to trust that the literally thousands of people operating the political machine with that task.

Broken Flowers

2005-08-21T04:50:52Z

I've known too many heroes to believe that I could be one. When the story of my life is over and the credits roll, my name will be near the end, and no one will be left in the theater to read it.

It's alright that I think I'm destined to fail. I don't believe in destiny anyway.

Home

2005-08-19T03:37:45Z

Familiar drudgery is not comforting in the way that something familiar should be. A shock to the system makes a creature of habit crave the unnerving and unsettled because it is far too well known. Prepare to be horribly disappointed by a bitter homecoming to melancholic white walls and a mess of crumbs. Mind betrays matter. Sink in and don't look at the neighbor's grass for a while.

All I am is what I'm going after

2005-08-14T04:10:44Z

I wish Michael Mann was writing the story of my life.

I'm sure he'd have me as the stone-cold cool criminal bad guy you hate to love, packing heat and slipping under the radar of Al Pacino's bloodhound cop instinct. I'm sure he'd have me in a grey pinstripe, single-breasted suit and sunglasses at night with a briefcase. I'm sure that instead of sitting at my computer on a Saturday night he'd have me pouring over blue prints and plans of the next big score I was preparing for. I'm sure he'd have me sitting in much more lavish, minimalistic apartment; when one of my partners tells me to get some furniture I tell him I'll get around to it. I'm sure I'd have more knotches on my belt and skulls on my canopy. I'm sure loneliness wouldn't bother me and my shortcomings would instead be my strengths. I'm sure I'd be more confident and secure with my decisions and I'd have stronger convictions. I'm sure I'd take more responsibility for being who I was.

Reconciliation, not compromise

2005-08-13T23:14:04Z

There exists a block in my mind that has long plagued my professional outlook.

As a psychologist in training I am utterly scientific by nature. I see the world as mechanistic, explainable, and wholly unspiritual, but there are few who would say the same. Freud called religion a national neurosis and there had been a long era where to be "rational" and "reasonable" you had to cast off your religious faith. That era is over, and while Freud is repeatedly stabbed in the back by those he gave scientific birth to, more and more scientists are allowing room for God to exist and incorporating it into their lives and therapeutic plans. This is a compromise that I simply cannot adhere to.

There must be a reconciliation, but how realistic is that demand? Consider something: As we know it the universe is one miraculous entity. In fact, it has been shown that for life as we know it to exist, many of the physical constants (electromagnetism, weak and strong nuclear forces, gravity) had to be in the precise relationship that they are and have always been for any of the wonders of this planet to have come to being. Any tinkering whatsoever would result in unrecognizable universes incapable of sustaining life in any form that we know it to exist. What are the odds? I read a good metaphor for this recently: imagine a standard monkey blessed with eternal life who was provided a type-writer and unlimited paper and ink; given billions of years of mindless mashing of the keys, would it surprise you if you came back and found the monkey had somehow randomly produced the complete works of Shakespeare, line for line? What are the odds of it? What are the odds of it even producing a single coherent sentence in all its random typing? If you poured through all the gibberish and found Shakespeare would you consider it a miracle or would you consider it simply an amazing coincidence? Could the scientist and the theologist compromise here? I don't think so.

I am of the opinion that the ability to feel the presence and believe in a higher power must be innate in some (perhaps, most) and not in others (perhaps, very few). I'd feel compelled to say the amazing monkey simply had the time to do random wonders and nothing in my mind could fathom any divine intervention, yet the religious person next to me would shake his head and say I was blind to the most obvious of miracles. Explaining the universe is often the same exact debate. Theologians cite the presence of this "miraculous" world as evidence enough for predetermination and godly presence, but of course no scientific purist could buy it. Forget compromise.

They did it all

2005-08-02T20:55:27Z

When peace comes to the Middle East and the cure for AIDS is discovered and science solves the world food and water problems, you will know who to thank. It is Foster Farms Dairy who will be responsible for it all. You see, on the sides of their trucks they clamorously emblazen "Foster Farms Dairy: the source of all things good," plain and simple for all to see. So, you can also thank them for the good meal you may have had yesterday, or the good sex you had recently (or not so recently, doesn't matter), or the good idea you thought you had come up with and was your own creative spark...no, if it is good then the source is clearly Foster Farms Dairy.