some 9/11 thoughts

So, today is September 11th. “9/11”, twelve years after THE “9/11”. 

I haven’t really done any serious reading about it, not this year nor in previous years. But I have seen a lot of folks posting comments and pictures commemorating the event. Facebook posts about “where I was when I heard twelve years ago” and inspirational “never forget” type pictures. Well, it seems to me that “not forgetting” isn’t the same as actively remembering, and it’s definitely not the same as pondering and questioning and looking for answers.

What is it that we’re “not forgetting”? That we’re America and how shocked and afraid we were that someone hurt us in our own home? That we went to war in “the wrong country” for dubious reasons? ‘Cause I haven’t seen anyone post about that stuff. It’s generally about the people who were killed and the brave first responders.

Yes, those things are worth remembering. But the much more important issue, I should think, is why did this happen? And I don’t mean “why was there a failure in our national intelligence agencies?” I mean “what is it that drove these people to attack us?” Clearly those people thought they had some justification.

Again, I haven’t really looked into this, watched documentaries or whatever. But generally the only casual talk about why this happened that I hear is that they hate us, they hate our freedom, they hate our way of life and want to destroy it.

I don’t know about that, but I’m sure, there’s at least some religious aspect: that we don’t share their religion and should be punished; we’re not a conservatively moral society, despite the supposed “Christian” faith of a majority of people in this country (Is that true? I haven’t looked it up, but it feels true. Of course, I do live in the South, so…) and should be punished.

But I think it’s probably more about the political and cultural pressure we exert around the world. That we want people to be like us…sort of. Or, maybe it’s just that we want the rest of the world to do what we say. So we prop up some governments that we think will help us maintain a status quo where we get what we want, and we work to overthrow governments that don’t. We go to war and turn innocent people into combatants by treating them like combatants. (We do that here at home, too…with police in inner cities and at economic protests.)

Yes, yes, this is all just knee-jerk liberal clap-trap, and I don’t understand how things are out there in the real world. BUT…

Why are we as a society not asking these questions? Why do we wrap ourselves up in an American-flag-shaped complacency when it comes to examining who we are and how we live? Way too many people seem dissatisfied, even if they don’t know why, for us to sweep these questions under the carpet.

The way we live is not good for people. It’s good for government and big business, but not for people. Sure, it’s great for some people but not “the people”. We need to change things. 

coffee fail

I know there’s something wrong with me. Maybe I’m not sleeping enough. Or maybe I’m just getting older and my brain isn’t working the way it used to. Maybe should eat more fish.

Anyway… Here’s the proof that there’s something wrong:

I make a pot of coffee every morning. It’s not complicated. But over the past several months, once ever few weeks or so, I fail at making the coffee. Either I forget to put in the coffee grounds, or the water, or I forget to turn it on.

But today, I forgot to do all three. Yep, three strikes; I am out. I emptied the reusable filter and rinsed it out, put it back in the coffee maker and closed the lid, then walked out of the kitchen to check my email, facebook, etc. (which I always do while the coffee is brewing).

Well, there is a happy ending. After discovering my coffee failure, I tried again and did succeed in making coffee. I can hear that it’s done brewing now, so I’ll have some as soon as I post this. 

I am not a violent person.

I am not a violent person. Truly, I am not. I realize that humans are just smart apes, and sometimes apes get violent. I understand that violence is an inherent part of who we are. But the idea of me personally being violent toward someone just feels so foreign, so very much not a part of who I am. Using violence to solve a problem or, even worse, just because I don’t like someone is just unthinkable.

That being said…

The other morning I noticed this picture:

It was on an ad in that bunch of ads and coupons that arrive together every week or so in my mailbox. It’s an ad for glasses—back to school special or something. Anyway, it caught my eye as I was going into the kitchen to make coffee, and I just thought that kid with those glasses and that expression is just asking to be hit.

Of course, I was immediately horrified by that thought.

And then I wondered why I had that thought. I looked again at the picture and found that I really disliked the kid. With his Bieber-do and that snarky expression and posture…he is NOT cute. He is annoying.

Why would someone approve that picture for an ad? Don’t they see it too? Is it just me? What do you think?

Amanda Palmer and The Daily Mail

Back when I was posting every day (for a year) I posted this sort of thing from time to time, but it’s been a while. Anyway…

So, this happened:

“Making a boob of herself…”

(It’s a review in The Daily Mail of a performance by Amanda Palmer in which there was a “wardrobe malfundtion”, and the review only talked about that. Nothing at all is mentioned about the music, and very little is said about any other aspect of the performance.)

And then this happened:

Good for her.

That’s all.

Goodnight. 

last night’s torture

I woke up in the middle of the night last night, or this morning, I guess...

I don’t know what time. Usually, if I wake up in the middle of the night, I look to see what time it is; then I can think “Ug, it’s whatever o’clock! Why am I awake?”

But this time I didn’t look. I think I was just really deeply asleep and woke up suddenly, which is not the usual way for me. But I woke up with what I assume was acid reflux. There was a little tiny bit of bitter liquid in the back of my mouth. I swallowed it, reflexively, I guess. But this awful taste stayed in my whole mouth. I tried drinking a little water…no help. So I got up, went to the bathroom, and coughed and spit and rinsed, etc. I did that for maybe 5 minutes. IT got a tiny bit better, but not much. I actually felt like maybe I should try to vomit. I didn’t vomit. And I didn’t “try” to.

(I never “try” to vomit. I’ve never made myself vomit. If it happens, it happens.)

Well, when I went back to bed, had a difficult time getting back to sleep. Usually when I wake up in the night, it’s hard to get back to sleep, because my mind is awake. My body is usually tired, but not my brain. But last night, it was the opposite. My brain felt quite tired—I think it was because of having suddenly woken up—but various parts of my body felt awake, energized, as if they had something to do. I don’t mean like restless leg syndrome. But my arm or shoulder or feet or hip or whatever would suddenly feel like it was awake, while the rest of my body was tired. So it couldn’t get comfortable. Then a different part would feel that way.

I have no idea how long this went on, but it seemed a long time. I was dreadful, like a new kind of torture. I’d sort of gotten used to the normal kind of lying in bed awake. I hate it, but I at least know what to expect. But this new thing last night was really annoying. 

“What can we learn from our children?”

I just saw this posted on my facebook timeline.

Tonight I asked [my infant daughter] if she could say "Jesus". She looked deep into my eyes and didn't say anything, but she watched my mouth as I repeated, "Jesus... Jesus". Then, I said, "Do you remember what Jesus looks like? Did you see him before you were born? What does Jesus look like?". She then hugged me tenderly and stayed there for quite awhile. I said His name a few more times, each time with resulting in her hugging/holding me and not letting go.
What can we learn from our children? — feeling blessed.

Well, here’s my answer to the question “What can we learn from our children?”

Your little child doesn’t know what the hell you’re talking about yet. She hugged you because either she was confused or she thought you were confused. But pretty soon, she’ll start saying “Jesus” and thinking there’s a nice little heaven place. And there’s a real lesson here to learn from your children: they start mimicking your behavior and beliefs; they absorb the stuff that’s around them without being able to critically examine it. See, they don’t know any better and that’s how their little infant brains work. (See the movie Jesus Camp for examples.)

Now, the person who posted that isn’t generally stupid. I think that like many people she’s got this intellectual blind spot when it comes to all that Jesus and God and church nonsense. And guess what, it was probably put there when she was a kid, and she never really got over it. So after rebelling somewhat as a young adult, she “came back to the fold”. That is, when things got a little rough in her adult life she reverted to the default setting she learned in childhood: Jesus loves me, and I can let the imaginary God deal with all the stuff I don’t want to think about…Whee!!!

I feel very…

I feel very…helpless? …hopeless? …something-less, lately.

I know I need to do something, to break this habit of doing nothing, of taking a vacation from any sort of useful life. But it’s hard. I feel like I’ve done basically nothing for…well, for years now, really. Maybe that sound like an exaggeration, but that is how I feel. And it’s sort of true. I’ve done relatively little for several years now. Relative to how productive I used to be. I’m not working, and have been significantly underemployed (and sometimes unemployed) for the past 6 years or so. I am writing songs for a show now, but that’s been sort of sporadic.

I’m not working—no income, and nothing to get me out of the apartment. I sit around most of the time, watching Netflix and stuff. I think maybe I’m putting on weight—just a little, but on my frame, a little is noticeable. My pants are tighter than they used to be (well, when I wear pants). I keep telling myself tomorrow or next week or next whenever I’ll do something about it. I’ll exercise; I’ll get out of my apartment; I’ll hang out with people; I’ll look for a job. But that day never comes.

Clearly I’m depressed. It not that unable-to-get-out-of-bed sort of depression you hear about. But I really do feel like I can’t get my shit together. I’m in a rut of dreary blah-ness. No…it’s worse than blah. It’s really more that I feel horrible so much of the time. Sad and despondent. As if I there’s nothing at all in my life that I really care about.

Most nights when I go to bed, I feel like I’m going to have to bear another torturous night of mediocre sleep. Okay, that IS an exaggeration: the nights aren’t quite “torture”. But most of the time sleep is unsatisfying. Weird dreams lately, and a lot of waking up at odd hours and wishing in vain that I could get back to sleep.

The main thing is that I’m alone. Woefully alone. It feels that I basically have no actual friends (And, of course, no “significant other. Not even an insignificant other.) I’ve felt that way for a long time—no friends. I certainly have “acquaintances”. But it seems to me that you should actually spend time with “friends”. Or, if you don’t live nearby, at least communicate often…really communicate, not just “like” each other’s’ facebook posts.

I feel that I have no “people”, you know…my people, my group. I do have a family, relatives. But honestly, I’m just not that close to them. I really never have been. And where they live isn’t “home”. And I’m “out of the loop” of most every loop there is. I need a loop; I need a group; I need people. I need something. And do not, even in jest, tell me that I need Jesus. I will punch you in the face.

Okay, I won’t actually punch you in the face, but that’s mostly because you’re not here in person. No one is here in person. As I’ve already pointed out, that’s the problem.