I believe most of us can handle the truth. But what we perhaps need to come to terms with as much as we do the aftermath of said truth, is not only what comes after, but why we pursued perfect knowledge in the first place.
There is a level of selfishness, whether justified or not, which exists under the surface of what motivates some of these pursuits, especially those meant to expose the demons around us.
Indeed, when we ask the apparent racist to confess, do we then respect him? Can we love without great reservation, if at all, the abusive parent that admits to the suffering he or she wrought onto his or her child? Can we even understand why that child might still love that horrible parent?
Granted, from confessions, some reconciliations could occur, especially if these persons of great evil seek amends for what they've done (something which only their victims can give or deny, and their decisions are what matters most). But at the heart of many demands of the Spade to admit to being a Spade, is the need for its victim to find greater self-worth.
Once degraded by the truth, that which harmed us so terribly, or offended our strongest sensibilities of what is good and fair, becomes pitiful and small, and us, all the more stronger by comparison. Fo it's not enough to believe in the guilt of our transgressors, we need them to admit to their wrongs; to acknowledge our pain; to be genuine in both regards and, most of all, in the guilt, hoping for the existence of any, they feel within themselves for what they've done.
But maybe if we can believe ourselves valuable for the better lives we've lead, whether as a reflection of good character, accomplishments, or what have you, than from the pathetic state of the grovelling wretches who finally admit to what they are, we can live better, less incumbered by our past, lives. But, then, exposing the monsters of our closets might be the only way many of us can move on, and the only way those monsters can lose their fangs, horns and claws and, themselves, move on.
As for the likely question of whether I've suffered abuse. Well, I have my own issues, as many people do, and would not expect to have it compared, judged, or even given sympathy, with anyone else's. So that means my life's my business, as is yours.
10/26/08
Human life is too costly and cheap.
Thinking about healthcare and the gripes we have with its expense, either in the form of increased tax rates, whereby we're paying for the healthcare of other people, or out of pocket and only for the healthcare of ourselves and a relative few, I got to wondering about how much we value life.
To my mind came these observations:
We think of human life as priceless, yet we complain when an expensive price must be payed for it to be healed; should we not be willing to pay any price to keep intact something so precious? But, on the other hand, we expect payment for the care of something sacred; a notion which is itself understandably offensive, for should it not be a privilege to mend the temple-human, and not a task for which we feel entitled to compensation?
What's perhaps the most telling about the true valuation we give to human life, is that the supposedly exorbitant price of its care becomes all the more reasonable when that same amount is to be spent on things we don't need.
We aren't piceless.
To my mind came these observations:
We think of human life as priceless, yet we complain when an expensive price must be payed for it to be healed; should we not be willing to pay any price to keep intact something so precious? But, on the other hand, we expect payment for the care of something sacred; a notion which is itself understandably offensive, for should it not be a privilege to mend the temple-human, and not a task for which we feel entitled to compensation?
What's perhaps the most telling about the true valuation we give to human life, is that the supposedly exorbitant price of its care becomes all the more reasonable when that same amount is to be spent on things we don't need.
We aren't piceless.
10/22/08
10/12/08
Phony Phelps Phans? On the subject of our appreciation for person athletic.
This isn't specifically about how legitimate some fans of Michael Phelps are, but of the overall legitimacy of some fan's appreciation for those they claim to admire.
Some athletes achieve great accomplishments, and are of popular appeal to the masses; they are prodigies, seeming to commit few noteable errors throughout their public lives. Other athletes fail routinely in their public, and sometimes their private, lives, but they must ultimately overcome the obstacles of one or both of the worlds, public and private, in which they live, or they could not achieve the same level of admiration people have for them as they have for the prodigy class of athletes.
But the reason for this is simple: Most people will never truely know the latter person, and both will more than likely be seen as prodigies, accepted for the flaws they have only after they have cemented in people's minds their respective greatnesses. Errors can be easy to forgive in light of lost entertainment, so rejection of this person becomes less a possibility when it risks his decision to retire from the world where he is most desired. He is, in a sense, the accordian player's monkey.
How many of us follow an athlete early while he is still developing his skills? How many of us, if we did not see their successes first, would be so quick to push aside, let alone forgive, his vices and criminal offenses? Are all the icons of the sports world pure? Certainly not.
What matters most for the validity of a claim of admiration for an athlete, is to know him beyond the headlines and records that pertain only to what he has managed on the field, and to have done so before he became the masterful player he is now, or to have at least not have accepted him as heroic before any amount of knowledge of his imperfections was known to us.
Records are breakable, therefor it is the name, more so than the person, that owns them for an indefinite time. When removed from his record, the names Michael Phelps, Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods, etc., have no significance to most of us. But those names, all names, have a story, some more even more interesting than the record of any star athlete; others, of no interest whatsoever. But all of them are unique in someway, and define the persons to which they belong more than having the best batting average, most yards rushed in a single, etc.
The question to ask, then, is do you admire the person or record?
As for me, I am really not much of a sports fan, and have never had heros. The person I admire most, is a close friend, a single mother whose helped me a lot, and who I don't really deserve to know.
Some athletes achieve great accomplishments, and are of popular appeal to the masses; they are prodigies, seeming to commit few noteable errors throughout their public lives. Other athletes fail routinely in their public, and sometimes their private, lives, but they must ultimately overcome the obstacles of one or both of the worlds, public and private, in which they live, or they could not achieve the same level of admiration people have for them as they have for the prodigy class of athletes.
But the reason for this is simple: Most people will never truely know the latter person, and both will more than likely be seen as prodigies, accepted for the flaws they have only after they have cemented in people's minds their respective greatnesses. Errors can be easy to forgive in light of lost entertainment, so rejection of this person becomes less a possibility when it risks his decision to retire from the world where he is most desired. He is, in a sense, the accordian player's monkey.
How many of us follow an athlete early while he is still developing his skills? How many of us, if we did not see their successes first, would be so quick to push aside, let alone forgive, his vices and criminal offenses? Are all the icons of the sports world pure? Certainly not.
What matters most for the validity of a claim of admiration for an athlete, is to know him beyond the headlines and records that pertain only to what he has managed on the field, and to have done so before he became the masterful player he is now, or to have at least not have accepted him as heroic before any amount of knowledge of his imperfections was known to us.
Records are breakable, therefor it is the name, more so than the person, that owns them for an indefinite time. When removed from his record, the names Michael Phelps, Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods, etc., have no significance to most of us. But those names, all names, have a story, some more even more interesting than the record of any star athlete; others, of no interest whatsoever. But all of them are unique in someway, and define the persons to which they belong more than having the best batting average, most yards rushed in a single, etc.
The question to ask, then, is do you admire the person or record?
As for me, I am really not much of a sports fan, and have never had heros. The person I admire most, is a close friend, a single mother whose helped me a lot, and who I don't really deserve to know.
10/4/08
Hippo's Crazy
Hypocrisy is the inconsistency of standards, both upon others and oneself. It is the belief that a given set of restrictions on opinions and behaviors applies at the preference of the individual, not at all times, regardless of possible consequences. Sometimes an example of hypocrisy is egregious, other times it's not. Indeed, sometimes a case of hypocrisy, while valid, is understandable, such as saying all life is sacred, but claiming a willingness to let many die in order to save a loved one. Therefore, a mother that puts her child first is a hypocrite if she expressed the moral principle of the sanctity of life, but she is not necessarily wrong for her choice. Objectively, perhaps, but her bias was one most can understand, and they, too, would most likely do the same thing as had that mother. In other words, an understanding of human nature can elicit sympathy for examples of hypocrisy, even with some of the worst possible consequences as a result of such acceptance.
Yet, while hypocrisy exists, there is a rather arrogant assumption made by citing it: Too many of those who claim it are not only themselves hypocrites (which is unsurprising when one assumes humanity is naturally imperfect), they are also under the mistaken belief that others will agree that they were the first victims of whatever act of hypocrisy has allegedly been committed against them or those who they attempt to speak on behalf of. The question of who was hypocritical toward whom first must necessarily be ignored in order for the present complaint on hypocrisy to be respected, especially when given by an obvious hypocrite on the very subject of his complaint. The present complaint on hypocrisy is not, though, invalidated by its authors own hypocrisy, but it does exist as an example of the ludicrous expectations we so often have. Can it be answered who, first, was subjected to hypocrisy? The further removed from the original example, the less we can be certain of the answer to that question.
When it comes to hypocrisy, unless ignoring it very probable risks endangering others, I would rather allow it to pass by. I am not likely the first, nor shall I be the last, victim of it, and I cannot observe by my own observation just who was; I haven't such certainty in what I see and know, and I never shall.
Yet, while hypocrisy exists, there is a rather arrogant assumption made by citing it: Too many of those who claim it are not only themselves hypocrites (which is unsurprising when one assumes humanity is naturally imperfect), they are also under the mistaken belief that others will agree that they were the first victims of whatever act of hypocrisy has allegedly been committed against them or those who they attempt to speak on behalf of. The question of who was hypocritical toward whom first must necessarily be ignored in order for the present complaint on hypocrisy to be respected, especially when given by an obvious hypocrite on the very subject of his complaint. The present complaint on hypocrisy is not, though, invalidated by its authors own hypocrisy, but it does exist as an example of the ludicrous expectations we so often have. Can it be answered who, first, was subjected to hypocrisy? The further removed from the original example, the less we can be certain of the answer to that question.
When it comes to hypocrisy, unless ignoring it very probable risks endangering others, I would rather allow it to pass by. I am not likely the first, nor shall I be the last, victim of it, and I cannot observe by my own observation just who was; I haven't such certainty in what I see and know, and I never shall.
He needs a stinking title for drivel?
I love voices. I have long had an admiration for a powerful and seductive voice. I have a long held fantasy of being able to orate in a way that expresses great command over the issues, and is incredibly persuasive. I wish my speaking voice was anywhere near as good as my writing voice. Neither is great, really. My grammar is often off, despite how fancy it may appear, but my talking skills are terrible. It's not just because of stuttering, but because of the sound of my voice, too. Yes, I'm beating myself up, but when you sound like a want-to-be-Briton, or like what the natural speaking voice would be of the lead singers of bands you hate, it's rather deppressing, to say the least. I still remember the imposing voices of Ron David and William Hootkins (may he rest in peace). I am even glad to hear David Ackroyd again, whom I loved to hear on one of my favorite documentary series of all time, In Search of History. The opening theme to that series was excellent. On radio, I'll often hear a woman's voice in an ad, and I think of how beautiful she could be. One voice especially. I've tried in vain to find her picture. There was a recent study which, as I recall, seemed to give credence to the idea that voices can indicate physical attractiveness.
So when I was younger, I created, as I guess many have, imaginary characters to act as. Yes, I was less robotic at a time. I had a few characters, in fact. One based on Transformers. One based on the X-Men, and one independent one, the one I want to talk about here. He wasn't a great character. Just your typical uber hero/anti-hero that couldn't be killed, etc. Well, I was around 10 or younger when I created him. Well, his name was a made up word that was kind of a distortion of the word 'dragon.' I briefly used him on line in a community which, in retrospect, I shouldn't have. I also had a rival for him whose name was made up, but that name actually turned out to be the name of a real place in Scotland. I've long rejected the character, and prefer to think of my newer character, whom I consider to be more complex and "human." But, back to the community. I foolishly tried to introduce a degree of danger in what was essentially a pacifist group; stupid, indeed. Now, though, looking back with narcissistic curiosity, I see that people have taken my old character's name, or it wasn't that original in the first place. Either way, it's kind of flattering, but also feels like a part of my more creative side has been taken from me. The name's now being used by someone in WOW fan pages, or whatever they are.
Also, one update note on my mother's passing. We're still waiting on her cremation, so far as I know, and I am getting a little tired of waiting. Naturally, my father is absurdly patient, and probably won't worry about her remains for a good month before knocking heads.
So when I was younger, I created, as I guess many have, imaginary characters to act as. Yes, I was less robotic at a time. I had a few characters, in fact. One based on Transformers. One based on the X-Men, and one independent one, the one I want to talk about here. He wasn't a great character. Just your typical uber hero/anti-hero that couldn't be killed, etc. Well, I was around 10 or younger when I created him. Well, his name was a made up word that was kind of a distortion of the word 'dragon.' I briefly used him on line in a community which, in retrospect, I shouldn't have. I also had a rival for him whose name was made up, but that name actually turned out to be the name of a real place in Scotland. I've long rejected the character, and prefer to think of my newer character, whom I consider to be more complex and "human." But, back to the community. I foolishly tried to introduce a degree of danger in what was essentially a pacifist group; stupid, indeed. Now, though, looking back with narcissistic curiosity, I see that people have taken my old character's name, or it wasn't that original in the first place. Either way, it's kind of flattering, but also feels like a part of my more creative side has been taken from me. The name's now being used by someone in WOW fan pages, or whatever they are.
Also, one update note on my mother's passing. We're still waiting on her cremation, so far as I know, and I am getting a little tired of waiting. Naturally, my father is absurdly patient, and probably won't worry about her remains for a good month before knocking heads.
Texas Fucks 'em: The lessons I've learned from this addictive and evil game.
1. It's overall well beyond me.
2. If you have two high, same suit cards, you'll quickly learn they are useless after the flop.
3. The low ranked mixed suits cards you folded before the flop will be two of the cards which appear.
4. Your high gamble on a three of a kind will be beaten by someone's full house or straight.
5. Your hope that the river card will complete your straight will not pan out.
6. Not only is it risky to attempt a straight, when you try to beat a potential straight with your best possible two pair or three of a kind, that straight you rarely got, your opponent has it. Amazing how that works.
7. Don't mess with Texas. Really. Don't.
2. If you have two high, same suit cards, you'll quickly learn they are useless after the flop.
3. The low ranked mixed suits cards you folded before the flop will be two of the cards which appear.
4. Your high gamble on a three of a kind will be beaten by someone's full house or straight.
5. Your hope that the river card will complete your straight will not pan out.
6. Not only is it risky to attempt a straight, when you try to beat a potential straight with your best possible two pair or three of a kind, that straight you rarely got, your opponent has it. Amazing how that works.
7. Don't mess with Texas. Really. Don't.
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