Conversely, I…

There are few things that seriously irritate me. Those few things, however, are the most common things you can imagine. For instance, when you are driving, everyone is going either faster than you, or slower. Rarely will you find someone going the same speed as you, and when you do, they’re usually in the process of slowing down.

Another thing that irritates me is bookstores with five chairs and one hundred stacks of books. Sitting down to review a book for purchase on a busy night is a total pain in my ass. Just tonight, I had to wait twenty minutes with four books in hand, only to end up with two of them on the way out. My time could have been saved by the store just having more seats than what they had.

But the thing that irritates me most, I think, are contrary people. These are the people that overuse statements such as the title in debate. There is no common ground with these folks, no real reason for existence except to argue, and the real problem is that they cannot recognize themselves within a description of themselves. For instance, here is an excerpt from wikihow:

Understand that it’s not you, it’s them. This can be surprisingly difficult, considering that impossible people have complete mastery of blaming skills. If you’re dealing with an impossible person, you’re probably being told on a regular basis that every conceivable thing is your fault. It isn’t. As the saying goes, “It takes two to tango.” Chances are, the more often they blame you, the more they themselves are actually at fault. Keep in mind that this is not to be used as a way to blame them. Blaming is what impossible people do, and they do it well. Instead, you are only facing the facts, for your own sake. That being said, here’s a simple way to tell: If you accept responsibility for your own faults and resolve to improve yourself, it’s probably not you. Remember, impossible people can do no wrong.

I recognize elements of myself in there. I know that I can be an impossible person about certain things, and usually am. I try to stay open-minded, but I am often stronger willed than I wish to be. I do not wish to be a “conversely, I” person, not even in this. Let me assure you, if I am too inflexible, if I become something much harsher than I wish to be, I will correct it. I know that life is too precious to not think for myself.

Six Steps to an Unreal Day

Take a first step: wake up, put on your clothes, and smile at that alarm clock that you’d like to slam into the wall. Yes, that one, the one with the horrible klaxon-sounding buzzer; go ahead and smile at it. It’s the first step into a day in the life.

Take a second step: make that breakfast you love to eat. Make some scrambled eggs, two pieces of toast, a nice big glass of apple cider, bacon, and steak. Eat it all down, what you can, and what you can’t, feed to the dog. A few scraps won’t hurt him. After all, didn’t you just eat it?

Take a third step: go to work with a smile on your face. Cheer up and give your boss a reason to love having you as an employee. Hell, if you feel like it, hug that co-worker that you hate to deal with. I mean, he may always try to steal your projects and your ideas, but maybe he’s just in need of a little love.

Take a fourth step: Make lunch. Don’t order from that Chinese place down the street that seems to think that MSG is actually a really wonderful spice that makes their food taste something like fried chicken no matter what the dish is actually made of. Use that microwave to heat up some previously prepared pasta and chicken, and pour on a nice butter-and-cream sauce. Embarrass the hell out of those employees who think that Kung Pao makes their belly go away.

Take a fifth step: Leave work on time, and don’t take any work home with you. Come home, open that beer or cola, and relax. Read a book, or listen to that new album that you’ve been dying to enjoy without the pesky idea of doing something while you’re listening. Watch that movie again, and look for the symbolism. Go take a class or something. Get away from it all.

Take a sixth step: go to bed, relax, and sleep. Don’t let work bother you in the night. Don’t give your mind the ability to live on in the day while your night passes you by. Take a deep breath in and a deep breath out.

The day is yours to have. Take it.

So, What Now, Mister Big Shot?

So, I’m having one of those days again. The inspiration has left me. I’ve talked about God, Satan, Heaven and Hell; I’ve turned philosophical stones galore, and I don’t know what’s left to tell. It’s all just so dry lately.

I can hear this Jewish woman shouting at me: "So, what now, mister big shot? What are you going to do now?" The answer is: I’m not really sure. I’d love to keep writing about God, Satan, Heaven and Hell, but it’s all dried up for now. Maybe it’s just my emotions getting the best of me, but all those topics are just me repeating myself. I want to express myself in new ways, but I’m not sure where to start. Perhaps one of you might have my answer, and perhaps not: we shall see.

What is it like to be a writer in a dry spell? Well, to start, it’s really dry. It feels like a certain kind of empty, one that cannot be filled with food or drink. It’s this chafing feeling, knowing that you possess the ability to put your mind onto paper with a true pen-and-ink quality, yet knowing that you do not possess the idea with which to use this ability. It’s like having a dry pen and a bleeding pen all at the same time, because the soul yearns to write, and yet the mind cannot.

So what now? I think I’m just going to start writing something daily, even if it’s a simple message about how some people are really stupid, or how Friedrich Engels and Karl Marx had some interesting points about the proletariat and the bourgeois. Just something, anything, to break this dry spell. My mind is dying for the chance to express; why have I and do I deny it the opportunity?

Anna, My Dear

As always, my thoughtful commentators give me great inspiration to write. Thanks to Anna, you have this post. This is a response to her comment on my post “Vive Le Résistance.” I’d recommend you read it first.

As to your first question, to if I believe America is truly free: no, we’re not. We swear allegiance to our president, our government, our “representatives,” even if we do not agree or consent to their action. We swear away the most fundamental freedom in the name of collectivism, which is admittedly necessary, unless anarchy takes its’ place. However, I do believe that we were once free, that at the origin of this nation, the groundwork was laid for every shackle to be loose, and for every man, woman, and child to have a voice in their government. Unfortunately, this is regrettably not so in our country, or any country, as a matter of fact. That is why I ask for the world to remember the resistance, the forces of change. Two hundred and thirty-one years ago, the world changed because of a group of good men. More recently, good men changed bad policies, like slavery and discrimination. Who is to say that the same resistance that changed the minds of the world then could not do so now?

As to the criteria for freedom, it is difficult to define politically. If we were to say that freedom is as the philosophical definition, the ability to do anything without consequence or ramification, then no one is free. In that definition, anarchy equals freedom. If we define freedom as the ability to think, speak, and feel as we see fit, while still conforming to laws, then most countries are free. I would define freedom as this: The ability, whether actual ability or potential to attain that ability, to practice and to do what we wish, so long as none come to harm by said actions. In that definition, I do not see that freedom in action, but I see that we can make it a reality.

I do not understand the meaning of the phrase “shackled by the liberties they showered themselves with.” I understand the basic idea, but I’m not sure how that works in practice. Would you be so kind as to explain?

I am not aware of whether the Native American Indians celebrate the Fourth of July. Certainly, our occupation of these lands has not been good to them, nor have we respected their freedom. I will look into that and get back to you.

Regardless, understand that I am not, in any sense, a nationalist. I am a good citizen, and I love to be a resident of my country, but I also understand that my country has its’ downfalls, its’ corruptions, its’ inhumane, despicable practices, and its’ failures. We are not complete and perfect, indeed, we were never so. However, I will celebrate Fourth of July, because of the people who inspired it. The Fourth of July, to me, is a celebration of liberty, not a celebration of a particular government. It is a day where I remember what my ancestors did for me, and what I can do for the future.

Again, Anna, you’re my hero. Keep writing, and keep asking questions!

Vive Le Résistance!

This is July 4th, 2007, and in America, we are celebrating our national day of independence. Two hundred and thirty-one years ago today, we officially declared ourselves free from the oppression of monarchy and the oppression of the state churches. With one simple move, we pushed ourselves towards the freedoms and liberties that we so desired. Today, I offer the same call that rang out those two hundred and thirty-one years ago: Long live the resistance!

Without the revolutionaries, the ones with the foresight to break our bonds to England and to the Church and say that we have the freedom to be, no matter what we may happen to be, we would be hard-pressed to be as advanced as we are. It is the independence of the United States of America that was an inspiration to so many other nations to overthrow their bonds. It is the independence of this nation that is envied still.

To say that we are bound to anyone but ourselves as a nation is to look directly past what was said on our behalf, and more importantly the blood that was shed on our behalf those two hundred and thirty-one years ago. To say that we have a foundation other than the sweat off our brow and the blood of our fathers is to deny the work done by our fathers, to forget the sacrifice made for us.

Vive le résistance!  Long live the independent thinkers! Long live the outcasts and the rebels! May the sacrifices of those who came before us not be forgotten, for that would be the true tragedy: forgetting our roots means we must grow new ones, and do we want to do the same again?