The first - the transcendentalist view - involves going out to the country. Roughing it with nature. Feeling the gravity of life and the cold harshness of the earth. Watching the stars at night away from the light pollution and air pollution that diminishes the glow. Breathing slowly, my friend, breathing in the awe.
The second - the metropolitan view - involves going to the most over-developed areas of a city that you can find. Delving into the intricately woven fabric of social relations and the most unusual fetishes imaginable. Walking the streets with the neon lights, blasting music, and strangely attractive people living out their celebrity-induced dreams. Eyes wide open, intoxicated by the enveloping scene that defies everything including sleep.
I fight between the two, and sometimes I get lost in the neon stars strobing my vision across the antechambers of businesses or churches (indistinguishable differences) that are far too clean, too white, and create too perfect an echo when slowly walking across the polished ground. I get lost in the feminine eyes gouging me from behind delectable haircuts, neo-Toyko Paris make-up styles, and the random deer that managed their way into the city's interior - walking the edge of the city streets looking for a quiet and dark place to settle for the night.
They fight for my attentions, and I suffer from different forms of exoticization of the soul. I feel oddly plain in my mildly cluttered house. And plainness, despite all attempts, is utterly unmotivating. Plainness is the painter's equivalent of coating a white canvas with a beige coat and staring at a small picture of the glass door that sits next to you as inspiration. Looking out the door is more engaging, as passing through it is as well.
I like to imagine Daniel Boone with an iPod. Andrew Jackson furiously sending a text message on his Blackberry to Washington after fighting in New Orleans. Deciding this really could be a nice city someday, without thinking a moment about hurricanes and levies - instead taking in the warmth of the Mexican Gulf's breeze. I can see Andrew Johnson interviewing Rob Blagojevich on YouTube, while off camera W.E.B. Dubois and Oprah roll their eyes while discussing the latest cover of Esquire Magazine with a bare-chested Mathew McConaughey. Henry David Thoreau, Martin Luther King Jr., and Cindy Sheehan meet at Starbucks to talk about active non-violent resistance using their laptops to scan Google Maps for the right places to take a stand. Ridiculous pop-ups of intelligence quizzes asking if you're smarter than Millard Fillmore and Michael Vick keep interrupting the search until they find their locations and take a deep long breath before moving along.
I like to imagine land rushes on over-developed country cities filled with vacated McMansions. Not everyone gets a home, but Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise get a nice one next to a water canal that helps divert water several hundreds of miles inland toward Las Vegas, which by all reasoning should be an empty desert wasteland. But is is not.
I read a while back that Michael Jackson was going to build a 50+ foot tall robot with lasers in his likeness that was going to march around somewhere out by Las Vegas. True story, I saw it on AOL.
In high school, my father found it important for me to get a credit card to start amassing a positive credit record from which to springboard me into adulthood. The limit on my credit card was $500 and I was sort of afraid to use it. I got over this fear, however, and used my card early on primarily for two causes - buying compact discs, and buying gas. Now, over 10 years later, my credit limit has increased to a shocking $9000 despite never once asking for a credit increase. However, after having an account with Citi for my entire adult life, I have decided to end this relationship due to the events of the past several months culminating in today's event.
#1: Citibank is one of the largest perpetrators of the economic meltdown, and the government has been at such ends trying to figure out what to do with this inept company that they are look at nationalizing 40% of the company in exchange for bailing them out further. The management of this company has been atrocious, and it is clear that simply giving these guys money won't lead to them "righting the ship" on their own. They are simply too incompetent.
#2: Citibank responded to the credit crunch by raising the interest rates on almost all of their customers for almost no reason. My rates more than doubled, up to 29.9%. Previously, under usery laws, this would be considered heinous - in the category of loan sharks. Given that my rates skyrocketed for no reason other than "We have the right to raise rates for any reason" as stated in the letter I received in the mail last month, I don't esp. feel valued as a customer than consistently pays my card off nearly every month or at least keeps the balance low at a reasonable level.
#3: Today I received my Federal and State tax returns in the mail. I went online to check the balance to see how much money I would have left after paying off my credit card completely. I was greeted by a warning screen that informed me that my card was shut off due to the potential of "unauthorized activity" and that a new card was in the mail for me. Interesting news, considering that I had not received an e-mail, letter, or phone call informing me of this serious problem. What happened?
Well, I did a little research, and my best guess is that my identity was stolen. I'm not the only one, as it appears that hackers likely got my information and the information of up to 100 MILLION other cards.
While this is frightening and disheartening, what is worse is that Citi didn't take the time to contact me and in worse situations (such as going on vacation), I could have completely been left to dry. The lack of customer service and looking out for my interests has exceeded the benefit of using this card.
Today, I went to my local credit union and applied for a credit card. Within an hour I received a phone call that I was approved and that I would be getting a new card in the mail within 7-10 business days.
Since I am unable to pay off my other card online, as that feature inexplicably has been shut off for me. I will have to call Citi again to pay off the card. At that point, I will only use this card in cases of emergency. Hopefully, in the near future, I will be able to get another card from someone else and I can just cancel that card with its ridiculous rates.
When I called Citi today to ask what happened, I was told "it is under investigation and we cannot tell you anything" by Ashram - a difficult to understand Indian guy - that I'm sure was annoyed by dealing with me at such an early hour in the morning in his time. It is quite clear, to Citibank, it is perfectly acceptable to shut down someone's credit without any explanation or notification because their proprietary information (in this case, my personal information) is easily stolen because it isn't protected at the level that it should be. As I was reading through these articles, trying to understand what happened, I read that last year $48 million dollars was lost to identity theft - most of which could have easily been protected with some planning.
Perhaps switching to another card won't protect me any further, as my identity was likely stolen from the processing of one of the companies that I made a purchase from (250,000 companies have their payments processed through the company that was hacked). But I feel much better sending my money through a local business, with local people that I can understand, that I know value customer service and charge a comparably reasonable 9.9% interest rate.
The takeaway value from all of this, is that we all should know that none of our information is safe at all. That any time we purchase anything with a credit card, that information could end up anywhere in anyone's hands. The primary reason we can't trust that our transactions are safe is because the government hasn't regulated the security precautions that need to be taken to protect us. My hope is that this changes soon, and that our government will quickly regulation and/or nationalize these banks that have failed us.
I wish someone would explain to me how love is something more than an escape, something other than an escape. The immanence of my life takes on much more gravity in my aloneness. I get lost in others' suffering - I confuse it with mine. I have yet to experience a feeling of love that leads toward a feeling of a deeper sense of self, rather than a deeper sense of responsibility and exhaustion.
I'm not really saying that I'm bitter - this is more of a dumbfoundedness. Am I really so engaged in the Great Internal and the sweltering exigent structural conditionality of our time that finding continual deep connections with other individuals is at best a mirage? How is it that I am so likeable? I shouldn't be likeable at all considering the weight of the thoughts grinding through me.
That's what people don't understand when they chat with me. The difficulty in acting normal, well-adjusted. It is difficult to say "hello" to people. It is difficult to idly pass the time with chit-chat. It takes so much exertion, and thinking of this exertion makes me feel more alien.
I'm starting to think more of what could happen to me if I end up spending the rest of my life alone. I'm starting to think more about the things that I've let limit me, what I am responsible for, and what I was to accomplish. I'm not really thinking about happiness, because happiness is secondary to living with meaning and purpose.
Ever notice how the word compromise has different meanings? For instance, when you compromise with someone else you each find something that you can be happy with or at least live with. But when the structural integrity of something is compromised, that means it is liable to collapse.
I feel quite certain, despite all of this, that my writing really doesn't enamour anyone to me - and quite likely, this is intentional on my part. It is safer to give off the vibe of "stay away!" - not to mention that I feel disdain for the idea of making myself more accessible, loveable, etc... that kind of attention seems to only lead toward disappointing others. It is less disappointing to realize from the start what I have to offer - which is likely a big reason why after all of these years I have so few readers here.
My blog is the electronic equivalent of a ghost town, or maybe more aptly, a border town on the frontier. Lost in the weeds and the train doesn't come near here at all. In fact, the tracks haven't even been laid down yet. Why would you come here? Why the hell would you?
The noble thing to do is to help her set her hair on fire when she douses herself in diesel fuel. This does not mean one ought to do it, however, and it is perhaps an argument against nobility.
I lack sentimentality. I see things forming before me with dissiliency. Understanding what I do about myself, I can't hope for a "normal" life. I am unmoved by concerns about those needing affirmation. There are important things to be done in this life, the pressing interest of these things leaves little patience for gamesmanship. I need to create, and I need to remain emerged in the cultural morass the defines the system we are in. I need to seek justice, and at the least show others where it does not exist.
It boils down to the bare essentials. We all suffer. I am not afraid to suffer, I embrace many aspects of my life that involve suffering. Please, show me the real carnage of war. Show me the body of my lost friend. Show me the infirm unable to take himself to the bathroom. Show me the burning fire that rages in you when you feel the memories of your past. Show me your pain.
But I am no substitute, and my world is as complex as the next. I need so little from others, that you may think me antisocial or asocial. But it is out of deferrence, I ask for little out of respect. Everything about me revolves around reacting to what is given to me. I am not a taker. I am not a giver. I walk the line as a reciprocator, and feel no need to draw out the rest. i will give signals of my willingness, but I won't jump up and down for attention. I am comfortable by myself and my thoughts. I am comfortable in my suffering. And I can challenge myself when no one else is able to or willing to.
Lately, I've somewhat obsessively been thinking about tragedy. Particularly those dramatic moments in plays, movies, or even music or real life that seem to rip through to the core of your existence. Othello's pain when he kills his wife. MacBeth when he realizes the futility of his hubris. Oedipus and his inability to fight back against Fate. And particularly now Woyzeck, and his insanity brought on by the conditions of the society he lives in.
For those unfamiliar with Woyzeck, he was a real person that shocked people across the country when he unrepetently killed his girlfriend (and mother of his son) in Germany by stabbing her repeatedly with a knife in 1821. She had been a sort of loose woman, and Woyzeck saw her dancing with another soldier which was too much for him. Before getting his sentence it had to be determined whether or not he was mentally able to accept responsibility for his crime. A very in depth psychological study was done on him, and it was determined that he was able to take responsibility for his crime, despite evidence that he suffered from scizophrenic-like breaks from reality including hearing voices in his head telling him to stab his girlfriend, an unhealthy obsession/fear of Freemasons, and the sense that walls and other inanimate objects spoke to him. He was sentenced to death and killed publicly.
Georg Buchner wrote a play about Woyzeck, that displayed Woyzeck as a sort of sympathic character unable to overcome his nature in the system that society had created for him. He was overly busy with his job as a soldier, and brutalized by his captain. He was treated as a sort of animal by the doctor who used Woyzeck as a sort of experiment to help him with his own notoriety. And he had no real deep connections to anyone, his closest friend being a completely aloof soldier that he shared a bunk with. In the play, he talks about how poor people are incapable of virtue because they don't have the tools needed to be virtuous. He mentions how he could be virtuous if he had the clothing, watch, and ability to speak like a refined man such as the Captain. Woyzeck frantically moves throughout the play, and is incapable of slowing down. He is a whirlwind of sputtering anxiety.
Later, this play (which was revolutionary at the time) was transformed into an avant-garde opera by Alban Berg. Following in the tradition of the 12-tone musicians, the opera is structurally formed by melodically very uncomfortable. At the end, the loudness and sputtering rhythms of the percussion clashing with the instruments is overwhelming. The discomfort of Woyzeck becomes a musical device through which was are brought into his world melodically, harmonically, and by the timbre of the clashing notes swirling with the difficult song-speak style of the vocalists. The music transforms you from being a witness to the demise of Woyzeck to a participant.
Warner Herzog turned Woyzeck into a movie in the late 1970s with the famous Klaus Kinski of Nosferatu fame. This movie is very true to the original play, and Kinski's performance is mesmorizing and painful. Contrasting the movie with the opera, I find that each experience renders a different sort of pain in me. I can feel them both, but it as though they touch different endings of my nerves. I am intrigued by this, and also enamored.
Why bring this up? The world I live in is painted in the tragic. The tragic brings life to life. What I mean is - if you don't experience this pain of existence, or as others have put it - the puncture through the Veil of Maya (or Apollonian Veil) into that chaotic beyond (the Dionysian wisdom espoused by Silenus's wisdom) - if you don't experience the pain of realizing the intense suffering of life as "a beautiful horror, a terrible beauty" then you're not quite living.
So much I hear people say their goals in life are to be happy. I don't know what happiness is, but I feel more and more I don't want it. I want to find those moments that rip through to the primordial essense of being and then redeem me through the reconstruction of order and the principium individuationis. Not as a sort of exercise, but as a means of truly living.
Life without suffering is like food without taste. We don't need to ask for more suffering, there is plenty there if you pause to chew your food without swallowing it whole. You can find it everywhere, if you're willing to look within yourself and toward your brethren living in worse circumstances than yourself.
This movement that I can fill within myself at these things is tangible, and it puts a dent into the misgivings I have at the postmodern disillusionment of the procession of simulacra. This tragic essense of existence is the desert where only a few shreds of reality remains. Even the most postmodern of tragic plays can recreate this truth, where all other truths are simulated. This is the irony of simulacra and simulations - essential truths can exist beyond the perversion of their perview.
Valentine sounds kind of Italian to me. "Hey, Valentino! Get ova here. The game is almost on." And then he comes out of the kitchen, and he's a short, hairy Italian guy with a bit of a beer gut. He's got some cheap beers in his hands that he gives to everybody. Come on, yeah - he's a little sloppy looking, but he's generous.
When watching the game he doesn't quite get as excited as everyone else when the good team scores or has a good defensive play, but he likes the friendships, the camaraderie. When the game is over, half of the guys go home to their wives and kids. The rest either go to the bar to hang out longer, or play some poker. Fifty years ago, they would have played music together, but these days nobody knows how to do that.
Valentino goes to the bar, because he doesn't want to go home to his empty apartment yet. Plus, he hasn't cleaned in a while and there's some nasty garbage under the sink that he needs to take out. He enjoys his company at the bar, and sees some other friends that watched the game. "It was a good one wasn't it. We almost had it." Tough loses are sometimes better for bonding than good wins. Real fans stick with the team when they lose, that's how you know the difference.
Some bars have jukeboxes, some have loud music playing all of the time, and others still have live music when there is music and otherwise are pretty quiet. This place was quiet until the band started playing. A bunch of old jazz and blues songs - Sinatra, Martin, Armstrong, B.B. King, and others that Valentino didn't know because he only knew the famous stuff. Valentino is more of a classic rock/80s rock guy. But this is ok.
After some drinks and being social, people start leaving. Valentino has his eye on a woman he'd seen in here before. He thought she had a boyfriend or something, but she was smoking hot and by herself and some girlfriends. Tight jeans, tight DKNY shirt, straightened blonde hair, and just the right amount of make-up (which was actually a lot). She smelled good too. He was going to talk to her before the night was over, when the right time came. Then she looked like she was heading to the bathroom, but really she just left out the back. It took him a good half hour to realize what happened, but he leaves to go home in good spirits anyway.
It was late, so he quickly takes out the garbage before getting in bed. He falls asleep quickly, and has many dreams. In one, he is a fireman and fights a fire that is taking over an apartment. He runs in there and saves women and children and a dog. But just as the fire is getting under control, he realizs that the whole thing is fake and everyone is just trying to make him feel good about himself. He leaves and goes down a long alley in the darkness and sees some women talking and laughing together in a little circle. He can't hear what they say, but he is afraid to stare so he walks by. He is looking for a bathroom, and when he finds it he wakes up in real life and goes to the bathroom. Gets a drink of water and goes back to bed.
The rest of the night continues in similar eventfulness. For a while he is a hunter chasing after a herd of elk. Then for a while he is going to be a juror for a murder trial, but after the preliminary hearings doesn't have to because they didn't like what he said about giving everyone a fair chance. And then finally he finds himself back in the bar with his friends and the woman he didn't talk to. Only this time she really notices him. She comes over to him and takes off her shirt showing her large breasts. This seems very sexy to Valentino who gets very turned on. She says some things in a sort of dreamspeak - he understands her, but there are no actual words just incomprehensible sounds. He never touches her but found this experience exhilirating.
He wakes up extremely well rested, but finds that he had the first wet dream of his adult life since he was 14 or so. This seems odd to him, but maybe a good sign of things to come. Valentino, as one might imagine, is superstitious. If you watched the game with him, you would have known this. He always closes his eyes on kick-offs, and when his team scores he has to always make the same hand gestures of excitement. For a while, his friends made fun of him for it, but he is so consistent in his superstitions that now other guys join in with him. But this is not what Valentino is thinking about. He thinks about the woman in his dream, who was different than the woman in the bar even though it was supposed to be her. These thoughts make him feel odd, and he decides not to go to the bar again for at least a week or two.
He spends the rest of his morning watching TV after taking a shower and eating breakfast. Maybe he reads the paper later, and maybe later he goes and gets some pizza.
Unlike Valentine, Valentino isn't a patron saint of anything. He is just a man living his life. There's no holiday named for him, and on Monday he has to go back to work at the auto repair shop. He is a man who gets dirty in his job, and feels the ache of using his muscles all day. He is a man who doesn't ask for anything in his life other than what he thinks needs. And he is a man who probably needs more than he thinks he does, but he somehow makes due.
Valentine sounds Italian to me. Like someone that you might know and see once in a while in a local bar somewhere back east in Jersey or a working man's city like Chicago or Detroit. Maybe you've met the guy and know who I am talking about.
"[B]oredom is the last thing which one must experience in the theater!" - Alban Berg
My next task ought to be to write a theatrical piece, in which the key dramatical mechanisms revolve around the boredom of the characters and the audience.
see one of those banner ads advertising that your teeth aren't white enough because they are yellow, nasty, brutish, solitary, poor, oh wait... that's Hobbes... because they're just grosser than gross?
NOTE: THIS IS NOT AN ACTUAL LINK TO SOMETHING
Don't you think that close ups of chompers like that isn't so effective? Maybe instead they should contrast meth mouth with the shiny white teeth? Or something like that. I don't know.
Realistically (I use this word lightly, of course), the best option would be to show the shiny chompers attached to the face of a sexy woman. Then you could simultaneously trigger the fears we have of being unattractive because of our teeth, and for not having a pretty enough face/being attractive enough to get a girl with a pretty face. Don't these asshats know how marketing works? I'm not sufficiently feeling shitty enough about my face to feel the need to get whatever this product is to even bother with clicking on the ad.
And come on... discovered by a mom? How about discovered by Paris Hilton? Or LeBron James? Or... Barack Obama? Mom isn't a celebrity, why would I buy anything from her? Unless she's a famous mom, like Angelina Jolie.
At this point the world couldn't move any slower for me. I need suggestions of blogs to read - of people that are writers, philosophizers, cultural critics, or who knows what. If you've got any favorites, post them here. If you think yours is good post it here. If you've heard of any that you think are supposed to be good, but don't have the time to read them - post them here. Feel free to direct me to your blog rolls, or whatever else. No need to explain anything - just point me in a direction, and we can chat later about why you pointed me there. I know that I don't really have more than a couple readers, but if you randomly come upon this - don't be shy, please post to your heart's content.
It does not take a rare individual to have difficulty in differentiating from things that are in the domain of the self, and things that are in the domain of the other. I am often struck wondering if the motivation for survival is truly the strongest aspiration of humankind, or if the need for meaning can supersede that motivation. Coping skills and coping techniques are different things. I think we need to investigate what "survival" actually is. A man was stabbed in the leg a few days ago and made it to his job interview on time (with blood-stained pants) before going to the hospital. The ecological realities of life are molecular now, filled with mechanisms that are not mechanical. I know too much about the tragedies of strangers shared in the news. Following white cars that are not well lit through snow flurries is like following a ghost through a house of mirrors.
I am uncertain if a desire to leave a mark on mankind interests me at all, compared to the larger problem of leaving a mark upon my self. The accusations that I am overrun by a large ego are underwritten in sloppy handwriting. I cannot, with any certainty, view myself in a unified light.
I try to view complaints as opportunities, which is a poor substitute for those who use complaints as an opportunity to make others feel guilty. I've accepted my guilt for everything long ago, which is the only allowance I've given myself that makes it possible to be a moral being.
The ease at which one may get stabbed in the leg is greatly under appreciated. Just as well as the ease at which one may inflict the injury directly upon their self.
After all, stabbing one's self in the leg does not even necessarily mean stabbing one's self in the leg. We live, strikingly enough, in a free society.
What passes for entertainment these days is nonsensical. My analysis of what I saw on the mainpage of huffingtonpost.com could go on forever. I'll let the image - with its text - speak for itself.
Last night, a bout of frustration emerging from the inability of Congress to quickly deal with our economic meltdown overwhelmed me - and thus emerged my first post on economics. I would like to quickly describe the current political situation with our economics and why it is something that should be so frustrating.
With the massive loss in money circulating in our economy, and the spiraling effect caused by lowered housing values, a lack of available credit to consumers, and losing over half a million jobs each money - we have significant problems to fix in a hurry. Each day delayed is another *doing math* (500,000 divided by 30) is at least 16,667 jobs lost a day across the country. Many republicans have stated "We are in no hurry to pass this bill" because it is more important to get it right.
I guess there's no reason to hurry up because they're not the one's losing their jobs, though they ought to.
But it is worse than it seems. Nobel Prize winner in Economics, Paul Krugman explains the problem.
[...]According to the CBO’s estimates, we’re facing an output shortfall of almost 14% of GDP over the next two years, or around $2 trillion. Others, such as Goldman Sachs, are even more pessimistic. So the original $800 billion plan was too small, especially because a substantial share consisted of tax cuts that probably would have added little to demand. The plan should have been at least 50% larger.
Now the centrists have shaved off $86 billion in spending — much of it among the most effective and most needed parts of the plan. In particular, aid to state governments, which are in desperate straits, is both fast — because it prevents spending cuts rather than having to start up new projects — and effective, because it would in fact be spent; plus state and local governments are cutting back on essentials, so the social value of this spending would be high. But in the name of mighty centrism, $40 billion of that aid has been cut out.
My first cut says that the changes to the Senate bill will ensure that we have at least 600,000 fewer Americans employed over the next two years.[...]
Emphasis mine.
Time is of the essense, and we're not even doing enough whilst the Republicans think this is too much. John McCain's counter bill (mostly tax cuts) was less than $500 billion, and would have barely made a dent in the problem - or could have potentially made it worse. (see previous entry #16)
So, why are the Republicans not in a hurry and not interested in passing a bailout bill that will really help the economy recovery as quickly as possible? Well, see what they say:
[...]Republicans are relishing the opportunity to make a big statement. Rep. Pete Sessions (R-Tex.) suggested last week that the party is learning from the disruptive tactics of the Taliban, and the GOP these days does have the bravado of an insurgent band that has pulled together after a big defeat to carry off a quick, if not particularly damaging, raid on the powers that be.[...]
That's right... this is pure politics. This isn't about anything except their own desire for power and to hamstring government for personal gain. And that is what is so frustrating. This isn't about anything other than wanting to make a mess of things to show the Democrats in Congress that they can't do what they want to do with a united front of Republicans fighting back Taliban-style (to use their own words!).
This is ridiculous, awful, and truly devastating to millions of people. Here's to hoping our new president and the overwhelming Democratic Congress can overcome filibusters in the Senate, and getting absolutely zero Republican votes in the House to pass this bill, and many other bills to come, to help us right our economy and get people back to work instead of losing their jobs, homes, and dignity.
Hello scared Americans (and other scared people from failing economies),
I thought it would be a good time to play one of my favorite games: WHAT SHOULD I UNDERSTAND ABOUT ECONOMICS THAT MOST PEOPLE DON'T?
It is pretty simple really, I will just lay out some information and if it is new to you then put a checkmark on your scoring cards at home.
Are you ready? Let's begin:
1) Laissez faire economics refers to "free market capitalism". This means that the marketplace is open for business men and women to trade with each other without any hindrances of governmental interference or regulation. The governments role is to simply enforce contracts.
Ok, easy so far?
2) Laissez faire economics has never existed in America.
Ooohhhh. Zinger.
3) The Federal government mints money, directs interest rates, sets the tax rate, and provides exemptions to the tax rate. All of these things severely skew us away from laissez faire capitalism. Not only that, most of these things disproportionally help the wealthy.
You probably could have guessed on that one.
4) Poor people in many states actually pay more in taxes than wealthy people.
5) Laissez faire capitalism presupposes the freedom of movement of labor, which does not exist in America due to immigration policies.
6) Adam Smith, the author of "Wealth of Nations" is the father of the idea of laissez faire economics. He writes that a strong educational system is paramount for capitalism to be successful, because everyone needs an equal opportunity (thus... affordable/free). We are clearly failing in this regard.
7) The United States subsidizes many goods, which means that the government pays to help people produce those goods. What are some things that are subsidized? Milk, corn, wheat, and OIL. To name a few. Many trade agreements and IMF loan agreements in poorer countries forbids the use of subsidies in the poorer nations. This gives us an unfair advantage in other market places.
How are we doing so far? Let's get to current events:
8) What caused the economic meltdown? If you guessed gambling than you are correct. It works like this: The very last law President Clinton passed that made "bucket shops" legal. Bucket shops existed at the turn of the 20th century, and people went to them to make bets on stocks. This caused a stock crash when too many people bet that stocks were going to drop and was made illegal. Now our economy is guaranteed with bucket shops to the tune of trillions of dollars.
9) AIG operated like a large bucket shop. Mortgages were bought buy large companies and put into security packages. Each package was given rating and backed by a company like AIG. If you owned this package, it would be nice for it to be guaranteed in case the value dropped suddenly, wouldn't it? That's what AIG did. Except - you didn't have to own the security to get the insurance. You could place a bet without any stake in the mortgages at all.
10) This gamble/insurance/"weapon of financial destruction" was called a CDS - Credit Default Swap. These are not limited to making bets on mortgage securities, but could also be done on other things as well.
11) Mortgage foreclosures increased primarily for two reasons. First, many loans were given out with terrible terms that people couldn't live up to. Adjustable rate sub-prime loans could see a monthly payment go from $600 to $2000 after 6 months. Second, gas prices severely affected many commuters that found all of their extra income sucked away in their gas tanks.
12) The security rating companies bid against each other to give top ratings to mortgage securities. That's right, they had an economic incentive to give the top rating even if the security didn't deserve it. AAA ratings to everyone!
13) The day that some securities were forced to have their ratings drop from AAA to AA (there have been a lot of foreclosures), a bunch of people wanted to cash in on their bets. Oops, AIG didn't have the money on hand! Guess they'll have to go bankrupt. Oh, that won't work, they're TOO BIG TO FAIL. Guess the government will have to bail them out.
14) With all of these bets, lots of banks couldn't pay up. I guess credit won't be available for a while. Good thing we got a huge bailout bill that was mostly used for banks to buy other banks with. This is great for two reasons - first, none of the money is circulated into the economy so that normal people don't get any access to credit which is needed for things like buying houses. And second, buying failed banks is a good way to avoid paying taxes!
15) Every time a house goes into foreclosure and sells at a discounted price, it undercuts the market. This means that banks are further shooting themselves in the foot every time a foreclosure happens, it hurts the market and makes it difficult for people to sell their homes because they would take a loss.
16) Economic studies have been done that show how well money spent to stimulate the economy works. The best stimulus - food stamps. For every $1 spent, $1.73 is made back. The worst stimulus - permanent tax cuts. For every $1 spent, less than $.50 is made back. See page 6
17) We've lost over 500,000 every month for the past several months. Last month, we lost just under 600,000 jobs.
--The world is yours if you want it. You don't need permission for anything.
--Don't tell me what to do.
2.
--The only way to make your life your own is to face yourself with honesty. To accept those things about yourself that you don't like by facing them head-on. To see the ugliest things about yourself and embrace that side of yourself in order to grow.
--Why do you always want me to feel disgusted with myself?
3.
--Zarathustra went to his cave for years before re-emerging into the world of man. As did Jesus. As did Buddha... in their own ways. Solitude is the basis of renewal, the basis of identity, and the basis of the evaluation of values. Without solitude, man is lost.
Whilst I think it is absurd to share publicly any thoughts I have about what kind of liar I am, due to the nature of the question, I will attempt to make an indulgence.
Firstly, I think it ought to be known that I have become a brutally blunt person. I have not always been this way, but over time I have leaned further and further in this direction. This started first with an intense period of time of self-examination during college in which I painstakingly challenged myself to engage the darkest aspects of my personality. I realized several key things about myself, which, in turn, explain how I may lie or mislead myself or others.
1) I am a very sensitive person. I have desires toward wanting most people that I meet to either like me, or be indifferent to me - but I generally don't want to be disliked. When I find a connection with another person, this desire is magnified greatly.
In dealing with this desire, I would primarily call myself a "liar-by-omission". Toward others, I will often hold back the harshest criticism I have for them. I will often hold back information about myself that I think may lead them toward liking me less. But strikingly, I am prone to being a liar-by-omission toward myself as well. When the facts of a situation don't match what I wish them to be, I have attempted to ignore those truths that I wish weren't true. And when I cannot ignore those truths anymore, I lie to myself about how I think that I can change them.
2) I often view the world from a much more nuanced and complicated perspective than most people. This can make it hard to relate to others with.
In dealing with the gravity of these thoughts, when asked to explain myself or when asked simple questions that have very complicated answers, I will often provide answers that I think will move the conversation along past these areas of confusion. I would consider this a form of lying, particularly when given "yes/no" type questions that cannot be answered truthfully yes or no. I will attempt to answer the question given the character of my thoughts, but at times I find it too exhausting and completely give up on even trying.
Maintaining a consistent philosophical approach to my life to live in "good faith" is a serious endeavor for me that I began at a young age. For instance, I decided with a sense of purpose that I did not wish to use chemical substances to alter my state of consciousness because I thought that was "bad faith". If there was any chance I'd make a different decision due to having a substance in my body, than if I were completely sober, I was against using that substance on principle. To this day, I have never even taken a sip of an alcoholic beverage.
I believe in self-discipline very strongly. This does not mean that I am puritanical, as I am not. Self-discipline starts with a process of generating a system of values, as any system of value that is not self-created (that is, at least, self-analyzed and constructed based on active decision-making) is a prison for the weak-minded.
From creating a strong sense of personal values, one then has the tools to make a life for one's self instead of having one's life play itself out.
I think this process I have engaged myself upon has helped me live a much more honest internal dialog, though self-deception is always an on-going concern. Self-deception does not necessarily mean that I am actually lying to myself, as self-deception can also come from making incorrect inferences or having flaws in rational logic.
What kind of liar am I?
A methodological, pragmatic one. One that understands the difficulties of fitting into society, yet also one which refuses to be unethical.
I am also a patient one. I will choose to slowly let the truth unfurl from my grasp instead of forcing it out quickly, or masking it in a melange of convenient lies. My lies are inconvenient, and I detest when I am put into a situation that asks for lies. For the sake of consistency, this makes me a "liar-by-omission" at times. But even so, in many of these situations, I will refuse to lie and instead cryptically opt out (alerting others to the expectation that the truth is not hidden, but will take more effort to obtain) or in times of intense irritation, simply take the socially unacceptable route and speak my mind fully.
I am also a brave and forgiving one. When I realize that I have lied in some way, I am not afraid to face what I have done to learn from it to try to prevent this from happening again. I embrace the pain this causes me, even though it can create a significant isolating depression at times.
The long road toward self-awareness and self-understanding extends forever. Mistaking a lack of self-awareness with lies is always a danger. In these times, the deciding factor almost always comes down to another question, "Ought I reasonably have known this about myself?" In the times in which this is answered with even a weak yes, I will state unequivocally that I most certainly have lied and my next task is to make sure not to experience that discrepancy again.
Certain people are unable to claim responsibility for themselves without making shooting comments at others in the process. Ironically, this has the opposite effect of mitigation. It makes it that much more difficult to find acceptance that leads toward moving on. The deeper the pain, the higher the likelihood of struggling in this regard. The worse result - and there is no result worse than this, is when one lies to himself or herself. Lying to others is simply unseemly, and at best is an attempt toward baiting to create a distraction.
It would be beneficial to ask yourself "What kind of liar are you?" - but the courage it takes to truly answer that question is beyond many of us.
Simplexity/Cell Tech/Products not to buy/Scams/Annoyance - again...
Despite the fact that this blog isn't about Cell Tech or Simplexity or whatever else they're calling themselves right now, I get more hits from strangers on my site about this group than anything else. Of course, I'd much rather people read my poetry or my commentary about postmodernism... but unfortunately, my dabbling into consumer protection is much more important.
To review, I had a very bad run in with an employee of Cell Tech (now called Simplexity) at an "ADD/ADHD" workshop. The following are undeniable truths:
1) A man by the name of John F. Taylor gave a presentation supposedly about ADD and ADHD. Part way through he mentioned that Cell Tech algae can cure these problems. I was skeptical and did research during his presentation.
2) During my research I discovered that John F. Taylor was borderline breaking the law in front of my very eyes by peddling a product as an "expert" without divulging that he worked for that company. This is like a Viagra salesperson telling you how great their sex life is because of this drug, and then finding out later that they're paid to sell you Viagra. NOT ETHICAL.
3) Cell Tech algae, as a product, has never been proven to cure ADD or ADHD - but they have suffered through various lawsuits. Consequences of these lawsuits include the banning of selling Cell Tech products in the state of California.
Now, why bring this up again? Because someone did me the "favor" of posting (Anonymously, of course) information from the Simplexity web site (remember Cell Tech = Simplexity) to inform all of you that the FDA inspects their facilities.
Thanks Anonymous person for random irrelevant information. Just because the FDA inspects something, does not mean that the product actually works as advertised.
Go to any product on Simplexity's web site and you will see the following disclaimer on EVERY PRODUCT:
"*These statements have not been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration. This product is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease. " (Click here for instance.)
The FDA is only checking the facility to make sure that the facility is clean, and doesn't have rats pooping in everything or mold or whatever (like what caused the salmonella break-out in the peanut butter factory recently). If the FDA doesn't evaluate a product, and the only information about the product you get from people who work for the company that creates the product who unethically neglect to tell you that they work for the company... YOU MIGHT NOT WANT TO BUY THE PRODUCT.
Some of you will never get it, and are desperately looking for a panacea and will try anything. Well, do so at your own risk. I've warned you about Cell Tech/Simplexity - you can do the rest of the research yourself if you don't want to believe me because that is inconvenient.
P.S. - To the anonymous poster. Thanks, but no thanks, I am deleting your comment. I will leave a comment there to explain why with a link to this post. If you have more to say, make your own damned blog.
I received a comment on my last entry that I thought interesting enough to write another entry on. This may help explain my thinking more, and clarify my issues with emulation.
As part of my evolution/growth as a writer I needed and wanted to emulate other writers. It's not that I wish to copy other writers but that I wish to understand how craft works, and the only way to do that is to emulate the craft of other writers. I've lost none of my own voice in this process. I've become much more deliberate.
I understand this, and I don't really disagree with it. Actually, I spend a hell of a lot of time reading things that I like asking myself "What is it about this specifically that I like?" This is also true with music. I listen very closely to everything going on with the music I listen to in order to find what it is that I like and don't like, and why. Harmony, rhythm, melody, composition, timbre, form, structure, lyrics, tone, etc... In fact, I would consider myself to be nearly pedantic in how I approach analyzing writing and music.
You have to ask yourself why you write every single line and word the way you do. Purpose!
This, I guarantee, I always do. At times, I realize that something I have written isn't worth putting effort into revisiting or touching up at all because I could never get it to resonate with me, but when I feel that resonation I could spend hours and hours and hours on one or two lines in a stanza. I could spend hours deleting stanzas, rewriting them, deleting them again, and rewriting them.
For me, rough drafts are passion and purging. Revision is purpose.
I agree here, and this is where my lack of interest in attempting to get published is holding me back from going through all of my old poems to revise them in a doubly meticulous way.
Anyway, when I taught writing I often gave emulation assignments. Most students found it less intimidating than beginning from scratch, and often they found the emulation enlightening. But a few always resisted on the basis of "originality." Sigh.
The problem here is what I attempted to allude to in my previous post. Originality is not really possible, not that it ever was. But I think part of us must believe in its existence, so that we feel unique enough to live out our lives and to push ourselves creatively. I understand also that there is a difference between gaining skill and substance. As with music (writing music and poetry are no different for me, except they are different mediums and I have different talents in each), you need skill to be effective. If you pick up a guitar and can only awkwardly pluck one string at a time or know only three box chords, you will be very limited with what you can play. Not to say you can't play a lot of different things with three box chords, but that skill limits you.
Skill-building is always, let me repeat - ALWAYS - a practice of emulation. Analysis is a different kind of process, and one in which exercise will not help you. Understanding that my lifelong struggle is substance - paricularly in living in the absurd, it is no wonder that I've gotten hung up on the analysis side of things.
At some point, commitment and the need to raise myself up to my highest standards demands that I do everything I can to be the best these things I do, regardless of what they are. It seems as of now, writing is my next frontier.
I have learned that the best way to get good at something is to try to copy the way those who are the best at that thing do it.
Some people are natural emulators. Some struggle at it.
I am not a natural emulator, but when pressed to do it I tend to do well.
In this regard, I'd like to talk about my writing. I never felt much desire to copy others. I have been highly influenced by ideas, but not by style. I know truly I ought to study more poets, and how they approach structure, meter, etc. But I resist it as if it would kill me.
I realized that I am a sort of post-modern warrior. Simulation, being one of the key marks of our time... and I can think of nothing but trying desperately to be original. This is also true with writing music.
I think the next phase of my growth will involve more emulation for the purpose of exercise. Just as I ought to learn more songs by others; just as I ought to study more vigorously other others; I ought to have more of an open mind to this. I have a fear of losing something, and it stems from my revulsion toward simulacra.
In this society, at the time of our development - identity is created and fostered, only through rebellion against assimilation. And also understand that there is an entire blueprint for rebellion as well, you can be an emulator of previous renegades. There is very little left in this desert to mark as my own.
I wonder at times if I'd feel less the weight of responsibility if I could know for certain that I was loved by no-one.
I often find talking with people a chore.
My past almost always comes back to me, even if I have done nothing to bring it forth.
I feel plagued with superficiality, infected with it.
I've yet to feel truly challenged by anyone willing to make a deep investment in my life on a day-to-day basis.
One of the few people I know I really made a huge impact on has died.
I am not a pessimistic person, but I am generally misunderstood. Also, I am extremely sensitive.
My dad-to-day concerns are generally not the same as most people's, but I feel intense empathy towards others - particularly those suffering due to circumstances completely out of their control.
The more painful the quest for knowledge is, the more certain I am that it is worth it.
Finally, I have been very tired lately. A deep exhaustion has taken over my bones. Despite this (or because of it), I have been very busy.
