I know it has been a while since my last post (13 days, actually), but I have a good excuse: the dog ate my homework. Not really, but the power adapter on my laptop went out, my desktop is on the fritz (it generates kernel oops like there's no tomorrow, even memtest died on an unexpected interrupt: the motherboard is failing), and I was out of town for Christmas. I have, however, revived my old Inspiron 1100 (the crapiest of a crappy series sold by Dell) through the power of Fedora Core 12 and am using it as my home machine for the time being.
You can call me a grinch, but I really do not like Christmas. I don't like anything about it. It would be very easy to make this post about why Christmas sucks so incredibly hard, but that's not what this post is about. The past few (nine) years have been turbulent, to say the least. This year my goal was to be more positive. Instead of tearing down others' rosy perceptions of this season, I wanted to celebrate it in a way that was meaningful to me. I have to say that while the basis of this resolution was already fermenting in my head, it was solidified when Bob snapped at me for being so negative, having been driven over the edge when I attacked Christmas. It was a wake-up call that I desperately needed.
One of my biggest beefs with Christmas is the rampant gaudy commercialism. Not having any money anyways, I bought no one gifts and received none in return. And that's fine with me. Even if it sounds weird, I am actually happier having received no presents: my best gift this year was that I got to spend a few days with my best friends. To sully that with cheap consumerism would be to slap a pricetag on the priceless. (In the interests of full disclosure, I did receive a box of See's candies from my parents a few weeks ago, but I think that was a combined birthday/Christmas gift.)
Christmas Eve was a bit comical. My friends, Carrie and Ashley, and a mutual friend, Johnathan, went to Ikea to look around for a bit (they also had Swedish meatballs, per their Ikea tradition, and I had lox, which is my Ikea tradition). I bought a stuffed toy weasel, whom I promptly named Yuki no Itachi ("Snow Weasel"), or "Itachi-san," for short. The name comes from the fact that it had started snowing outside. Our plan was then to see Avatar in 3D at a local Imax at 3pm. But, when we got there, the showing was sold out. All the Imaxes in the area are on the same showing schedule, so the next one we could get was at 7pm. We headed to Johnathan's place in the Plano area and stayed there until it was time to go to the theater. In Dallas, snow never really causes a problem because it doesn't stick. But it was sticking anyways. When we got out of the movie, the roads were all but impassible. It would have been a 45 minute drive to Carrie and Ashley's place, assuming all the roads were open. Rather than returning that night, we stayed at Johnathan's place and drove home Christmas morning.
On Christmas Day I sent some Christmas texts and called family members, but I could not summon the strength to make extended calls or texts. That is, there are a bunch of people from church whom I meant to call and did not. The day was more exhausting because of spending the previous night without meds or my CPAP. Even though I felt a little anxiety and psychological strain from the holiday, it was very manageable.
Much of Christmas Day and the next we all spent watching Bones (Ashley got one of the seasons as a gift) and I returned to Lubbock today. Now that I am not constantly bombarded with other people and activities, the emotional baggage of Christmas past is starting to catch up to me. I feel like I haven't solved anything, only delay the frustration, anger, guilt, and countless other negative emotions. But perhaps these feelings are immutable and the best I can do is bear the ill while concentrating on the good.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
A word of encouragement
To lighten the tone a bit, I want to share with you something I have not had the chance to share with many people.
Rarely have I received verbal, explicit encouragement. This was particularly true during my time in college. But one time, at the end of my second year, my advisor asked me to do research for him during the coming Summer. He told me my salary, and after a surprised response from me, he said, "You're worth it, Grimes." That brought me to a dead halt, a lump rising in my throat. To the best of my recollection, no one had ever praised me for doing well before.
Fulminating during my college and graduate years, I entered my first postdoc position with a full-blown case of imposter syndrome. Thankfully, this is now under control. But any suffering is for naught if no lesson is learned. And one of the lessons here is to encourage our neighbors from time to time. False flattery is of no use: if it is not sincere and truthful, it will eventually backfire and cause more damage than the intended good.
There are other sources of encouragement, too. One that I hear nearly every week is found in the birthday prayer:
I am not one to get all gushy and insist on continuous empty feel-good platitudes, but that does not exclude legitimate expressions of emotion.
Rarely have I received verbal, explicit encouragement. This was particularly true during my time in college. But one time, at the end of my second year, my advisor asked me to do research for him during the coming Summer. He told me my salary, and after a surprised response from me, he said, "You're worth it, Grimes." That brought me to a dead halt, a lump rising in my throat. To the best of my recollection, no one had ever praised me for doing well before.
Fulminating during my college and graduate years, I entered my first postdoc position with a full-blown case of imposter syndrome. Thankfully, this is now under control. But any suffering is for naught if no lesson is learned. And one of the lessons here is to encourage our neighbors from time to time. False flattery is of no use: if it is not sincere and truthful, it will eventually backfire and cause more damage than the intended good.
There are other sources of encouragement, too. One that I hear nearly every week is found in the birthday prayer:
Watch over Your servants, O Lord, as their days increase.Whatever your views on religion may be, words are powerful things. Even if you remove references to God and recast the sentences in present perfect tense, it is still meaningful.
Bless and guide them wherever they may be.
Strengthen them when they stand, comfort them when discouraged or sorrowful, raise them up if they fall.
And in their hearts, my Thy peace, which passes all understanding, abide all the days of their lives.
I am not one to get all gushy and insist on continuous empty feel-good platitudes, but that does not exclude legitimate expressions of emotion.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Situation Ethics
Despite the declared theme of revisiting old blogs, I have have posted only one so far. The next posts on my list are rather lengthy and need a little bit of thought. In the meantime, I have realized this is one forum where I can express a whole thought without needing for it to come up in a natural context. Therefore, this post is about ethics and morality.
As might be guessed by the title, I have been (and continue to be) very strongly influenced by the system of situation ethics put forward by Fr. Joseph Fletcher in his book bearing the same title. There are several ways one can begin a discussion about ethics and morality. This world contains a bewildering variety of religious beliefs, even to the point that it is not unreasonable to recognize every person's particular belief system as their own religion. For the sake of simplicity, I am limiting my arguments to Christianity. This in no wise diminishes the applicability to other systems of belief, but allows me to concentrate on the important points.
Many Christians would probably ask why we need to re-examine our systems of ethics and morality. After all, don't we have the 10 Commandments and the direct guidance of Scripture? The 10 Commandments et al. are certainly good guidelines, but they cannot possibly be absolutes. For example, if you could lie to save someone's life, you probably would. Most people would agree it is acceptable to lie to prevent a murder. But if you take the Commandments as absolute, then you are left in the curious position of claiming it is sinful to do the right thing. The problem with any set of rules is that it is impossible to take into account every possible situation. Anyone who has ever dealt with bureaucracy will readily agree. I submit to you that nothing is absolutely true unless it holds in every single circumstance. Even one counterexample is sufficient to prove it is not absolute.
If no set of legalistic rules is sufficient, then on what shall we construct our ethics? Antinomianism is one possibility, but it is not generally considered an acceptable solution. Most people require some degree of reasonability. A better solution is found in utilitarianism. Typically, this is stated as "the most good for the most people." This is a dangerous ideology by itself, being vulnerable to all sorts of abuses (e.g., eugenics). The metric here is ambiguous. Correcting it, one arrives at the central statement of Situation Ethics: "The correct action in any circumstance is to increase the most agape for the most people." The Greek word agape is used here instead of the English translation, love, because of it's unique implications and the word "love" is highly overloaded. Many books have been written as to the precise meaning and implications of agape, but it suffices here to note that it is non-erotic "true love." Indeed, a better understanding of "the right thing to do" involves a better understanding of agape.
At this point, I will acknowledge this still does not give us a magic formula for doing the right thing in any particular circumstance. I like to look at it as being similar to the concept of electron correlation in Chemistry. We can describe what it is, and even construct systems of computing it. But when it comes to actually carrying out the calculations, we find that all but the very simplest systems are ludicrously intractable. In Situation Ethics, we must act in the way that increases the most agape for the most people, but this requires us to predict the future. Any honest person will admit it is humanly impossible to predict the future to such accuracy that the best thing to do is always known. Thus this ethical system in its very construction acknowledges our limitations and the complexity of reality. Rather than a set of rules to be followed, it provides a compass that unfailingly points the correct direction, if only we will read it accurately.
In most day-to-day situations, the usual rules apply. In general, one should not murder, steal, etc. But by demoting legalism to its rightful place it becomes more natural to be able to function in anomalous and stressful environments. Going back to the earlier of example of lying to save a life, it is clear that lying is the right thing to do. Some object to this extremism, however. But the example need not be extreme. What if a 5-year-old asked if you liked their drawing and you honestly thought it was the most hideous thing ever? Would you crush the child's feelings out of a perverse sense of justice? The right thing to do is to tell a white lie. Cory ten Boom's family hid Jews in their house during World War II. When the Gestapo asked if they were hiding Jews, they told the Gestapo they were! In her memoirs, ten Boom claims that Gestapo did not believe them and that the Jews were saved because she had the bravery to do the right thing. I submit to you rather that Cory ten Boom was a complete moron: God saved their lives from her idiocy. Even Jesus commanded us to be "wise as serpents and innocent as doves."
One final point to make is that in the agape calculus, you cannot neglect yourself. Self-sacrifice is not always the right thing to do.
I would have written more, but I have not yet made dinner and I am starving.
As might be guessed by the title, I have been (and continue to be) very strongly influenced by the system of situation ethics put forward by Fr. Joseph Fletcher in his book bearing the same title. There are several ways one can begin a discussion about ethics and morality. This world contains a bewildering variety of religious beliefs, even to the point that it is not unreasonable to recognize every person's particular belief system as their own religion. For the sake of simplicity, I am limiting my arguments to Christianity. This in no wise diminishes the applicability to other systems of belief, but allows me to concentrate on the important points.
Many Christians would probably ask why we need to re-examine our systems of ethics and morality. After all, don't we have the 10 Commandments and the direct guidance of Scripture? The 10 Commandments et al. are certainly good guidelines, but they cannot possibly be absolutes. For example, if you could lie to save someone's life, you probably would. Most people would agree it is acceptable to lie to prevent a murder. But if you take the Commandments as absolute, then you are left in the curious position of claiming it is sinful to do the right thing. The problem with any set of rules is that it is impossible to take into account every possible situation. Anyone who has ever dealt with bureaucracy will readily agree. I submit to you that nothing is absolutely true unless it holds in every single circumstance. Even one counterexample is sufficient to prove it is not absolute.
If no set of legalistic rules is sufficient, then on what shall we construct our ethics? Antinomianism is one possibility, but it is not generally considered an acceptable solution. Most people require some degree of reasonability. A better solution is found in utilitarianism. Typically, this is stated as "the most good for the most people." This is a dangerous ideology by itself, being vulnerable to all sorts of abuses (e.g., eugenics). The metric here is ambiguous. Correcting it, one arrives at the central statement of Situation Ethics: "The correct action in any circumstance is to increase the most agape for the most people." The Greek word agape is used here instead of the English translation, love, because of it's unique implications and the word "love" is highly overloaded. Many books have been written as to the precise meaning and implications of agape, but it suffices here to note that it is non-erotic "true love." Indeed, a better understanding of "the right thing to do" involves a better understanding of agape.
At this point, I will acknowledge this still does not give us a magic formula for doing the right thing in any particular circumstance. I like to look at it as being similar to the concept of electron correlation in Chemistry. We can describe what it is, and even construct systems of computing it. But when it comes to actually carrying out the calculations, we find that all but the very simplest systems are ludicrously intractable. In Situation Ethics, we must act in the way that increases the most agape for the most people, but this requires us to predict the future. Any honest person will admit it is humanly impossible to predict the future to such accuracy that the best thing to do is always known. Thus this ethical system in its very construction acknowledges our limitations and the complexity of reality. Rather than a set of rules to be followed, it provides a compass that unfailingly points the correct direction, if only we will read it accurately.
In most day-to-day situations, the usual rules apply. In general, one should not murder, steal, etc. But by demoting legalism to its rightful place it becomes more natural to be able to function in anomalous and stressful environments. Going back to the earlier of example of lying to save a life, it is clear that lying is the right thing to do. Some object to this extremism, however. But the example need not be extreme. What if a 5-year-old asked if you liked their drawing and you honestly thought it was the most hideous thing ever? Would you crush the child's feelings out of a perverse sense of justice? The right thing to do is to tell a white lie. Cory ten Boom's family hid Jews in their house during World War II. When the Gestapo asked if they were hiding Jews, they told the Gestapo they were! In her memoirs, ten Boom claims that Gestapo did not believe them and that the Jews were saved because she had the bravery to do the right thing. I submit to you rather that Cory ten Boom was a complete moron: God saved their lives from her idiocy. Even Jesus commanded us to be "wise as serpents and innocent as doves."
One final point to make is that in the agape calculus, you cannot neglect yourself. Self-sacrifice is not always the right thing to do.
I would have written more, but I have not yet made dinner and I am starving.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
I am a robot
While old blog posts provide a steady stream of material for me to discuss, on occasion I will be making original posts. This is one such post. I have decided to replace actual names with pseudonyms to prevent searches from turning up these posts. With a little imagination, I am confident those familiar with my life will be able to decode the proper names.
A couple weeks ago I was stupid enough to try JWH-018. It is a novel synthetic cannabinoid receptor agonist with a similar CB1/2 binding profile to THC, but with around 4-5 times greater affinity. Whether as an overdose or an interaction with the lithium I take (or a combination of both), I ended up having a grand mal seizure. Before I took it, I let Ranger, one of my roommates, know what I was doing. After dosing (via vaporization), I laid down on my bed as it started to take effect. I remember being angry at myself because as I experienced the high, I remembered how much I disliked it. This is a very strange concept to most people: if you don't like it, why do you do it? There is no justification, it is irrational. For this post, I choose not to pursue this direction, but rather continue on with the story.
At some point in time, Ranger noticed some strange sounds coming from my room. He did not feel comfortable barging in, so he asked Nezumi to check on me. Nezumi went in and saw that I was in trouble, but did not immediately call 911. Instead, he searched online for information on the drug I used and ended up calling one of my colleagues, Dean. Dean and his wife Leela came over (they live only a couple blocks away), and as soon as she saw me, Leela turned me on my side and called the ambulance. I have a very vague, blurry memory of people around me while I was in bed, but lost consciousness soon after. The next thing I remember was being in the hospital, unable to breathe (I did not realize I had been intubated) and in restraints. A woman appeared in my line of sight and confirmed my advance directive (I have an active do-not-resuscitate order). Then I lost consciousness.
When I woke up again, they removed the breathing tube (this was extremely unpleasant) and restraints. A nurse told me where I was and that my mom had called. They eventually gave me my phone, and I checked the call log to see who was involved in this mess. My heart sank when I saw Dean had been called, and sank much further when I saw my boyfriend Bob had been called. At this point, I went to sleep, and was discharged the next morning.
Many details have been intentionally omitted from this account because they are irrelevant to what I wish to relate below.
Last night I was hanging out at a local bar with Dean and Leela. Alcohol is well-known for removing inhibition. Leela wanted to talk to me about what had happened, and the alcohol certainly removed her inhibitions. I knew the subject was still on her mind because earlier in the night she went to get a cigarette from my pack, thinking it was Dean's, and I stopped her. She said to me, "I saved your life, you owe me." This was rather tactless, but I know that she is not mean-spirited and she would never have said something like that sober. Later she broached the topic with me. She kept telling me, "You could have died!" I understand this, I really do. But she did not believe me. She kept reiterating how scared she was. What if no one had heard me? What if Nezumi never called for help? What if I had suffered brain damage? I reassured her that her actions saved my life. It does not matter what could have been, because the fact is that she had the presence of mind to do what needed to be done. That is what happened, and no-one can ever take that away from her.
Leela was much reassured, but still could not accept that I actually did understand the situation. To use the word "understand" is a bit of a misnomer. She did not believe that I comprehended the severity of the situation because I did not respond with the emotion of fear. I tried explaining that I honestly have no fear of death. I do feel guilt and sadness about the pain I caused to those around me, but I do not feel fear. To Leela this was simply unfathomable. I posed the question, "When have you ever seen me emotional, about anything?" She thought for a moment, then said, "I AM A ROBOT, I AM A ROBOT. That's you."
I know that I am emotionally retarded. When I was young, I learned how to turn off my emotions. Without emotion, you cannot feel fear and pain, but you also sacrifice happiness. A certain amount of emotion is necessary on a day-to-day basis, so I developed a system of observing the responses of "normal" people to situations and rationally constructing a model for how emotions "ought" to work (as least on a phenomenological level). This model runs as a more-or-less conscious process, which can be consciously stopped if the need arises. It formed a prominent part of my life when I had a girlfriend, as I relied exclusively on my observations of other couples to try to act the part.
I like to fool myself into thinking that my "synthetic emotions" are sufficient to trick those around me. These ersatz emotions are the closest thing I have to the real deal. That is, I do experience desire, repulsion, love, pain, happiness, despair, joy, hate, and so forth, just not in the way that most people experience them. I am trying to develop my emotional side, but reversing 20 years of internalization is really fucking difficult and perhaps even impossible. The most direct summary I can make is that what was said hurt me grievously, all the more because I know it is true. Who likes to have their deficiencies pointed out to them? How much more painful is it when that deficiency is already the cause of angst?
Leela also just could not get over why Nezumi did not call emergency services, and she was very adamant about blaming him. He told her at the time that he panicked. Later, he felt he owed me an apology and explanation. It turns out that he had the same mindset as me: do not call 911 unless it is really really necessary. He was not sure if I was using an illegal drug (it is not), and did not want me to get in trouble. It is very likely that reality is a combination of the mindset Nezumi revealed to me and panic. I can understand that. He had no ill intentions and no harm came from his decisions. I cannot blame him for doing the best he could, and in my opinion no guilt attaches to him. That does not imply that I think he acted wisely. Indeed, we both understand now that calling 911 in a timely manner is of overriding importance. It is human to make mistakes, and when that happens, the only acceptable path is to learn from it and avoid the same mistake in the future.
A couple weeks ago I was stupid enough to try JWH-018. It is a novel synthetic cannabinoid receptor agonist with a similar CB1/2 binding profile to THC, but with around 4-5 times greater affinity. Whether as an overdose or an interaction with the lithium I take (or a combination of both), I ended up having a grand mal seizure. Before I took it, I let Ranger, one of my roommates, know what I was doing. After dosing (via vaporization), I laid down on my bed as it started to take effect. I remember being angry at myself because as I experienced the high, I remembered how much I disliked it. This is a very strange concept to most people: if you don't like it, why do you do it? There is no justification, it is irrational. For this post, I choose not to pursue this direction, but rather continue on with the story.
At some point in time, Ranger noticed some strange sounds coming from my room. He did not feel comfortable barging in, so he asked Nezumi to check on me. Nezumi went in and saw that I was in trouble, but did not immediately call 911. Instead, he searched online for information on the drug I used and ended up calling one of my colleagues, Dean. Dean and his wife Leela came over (they live only a couple blocks away), and as soon as she saw me, Leela turned me on my side and called the ambulance. I have a very vague, blurry memory of people around me while I was in bed, but lost consciousness soon after. The next thing I remember was being in the hospital, unable to breathe (I did not realize I had been intubated) and in restraints. A woman appeared in my line of sight and confirmed my advance directive (I have an active do-not-resuscitate order). Then I lost consciousness.
When I woke up again, they removed the breathing tube (this was extremely unpleasant) and restraints. A nurse told me where I was and that my mom had called. They eventually gave me my phone, and I checked the call log to see who was involved in this mess. My heart sank when I saw Dean had been called, and sank much further when I saw my boyfriend Bob had been called. At this point, I went to sleep, and was discharged the next morning.
Many details have been intentionally omitted from this account because they are irrelevant to what I wish to relate below.
Last night I was hanging out at a local bar with Dean and Leela. Alcohol is well-known for removing inhibition. Leela wanted to talk to me about what had happened, and the alcohol certainly removed her inhibitions. I knew the subject was still on her mind because earlier in the night she went to get a cigarette from my pack, thinking it was Dean's, and I stopped her. She said to me, "I saved your life, you owe me." This was rather tactless, but I know that she is not mean-spirited and she would never have said something like that sober. Later she broached the topic with me. She kept telling me, "You could have died!" I understand this, I really do. But she did not believe me. She kept reiterating how scared she was. What if no one had heard me? What if Nezumi never called for help? What if I had suffered brain damage? I reassured her that her actions saved my life. It does not matter what could have been, because the fact is that she had the presence of mind to do what needed to be done. That is what happened, and no-one can ever take that away from her.
Leela was much reassured, but still could not accept that I actually did understand the situation. To use the word "understand" is a bit of a misnomer. She did not believe that I comprehended the severity of the situation because I did not respond with the emotion of fear. I tried explaining that I honestly have no fear of death. I do feel guilt and sadness about the pain I caused to those around me, but I do not feel fear. To Leela this was simply unfathomable. I posed the question, "When have you ever seen me emotional, about anything?" She thought for a moment, then said, "I AM A ROBOT, I AM A ROBOT. That's you."
I know that I am emotionally retarded. When I was young, I learned how to turn off my emotions. Without emotion, you cannot feel fear and pain, but you also sacrifice happiness. A certain amount of emotion is necessary on a day-to-day basis, so I developed a system of observing the responses of "normal" people to situations and rationally constructing a model for how emotions "ought" to work (as least on a phenomenological level). This model runs as a more-or-less conscious process, which can be consciously stopped if the need arises. It formed a prominent part of my life when I had a girlfriend, as I relied exclusively on my observations of other couples to try to act the part.
I like to fool myself into thinking that my "synthetic emotions" are sufficient to trick those around me. These ersatz emotions are the closest thing I have to the real deal. That is, I do experience desire, repulsion, love, pain, happiness, despair, joy, hate, and so forth, just not in the way that most people experience them. I am trying to develop my emotional side, but reversing 20 years of internalization is really fucking difficult and perhaps even impossible. The most direct summary I can make is that what was said hurt me grievously, all the more because I know it is true. Who likes to have their deficiencies pointed out to them? How much more painful is it when that deficiency is already the cause of angst?
Leela also just could not get over why Nezumi did not call emergency services, and she was very adamant about blaming him. He told her at the time that he panicked. Later, he felt he owed me an apology and explanation. It turns out that he had the same mindset as me: do not call 911 unless it is really really necessary. He was not sure if I was using an illegal drug (it is not), and did not want me to get in trouble. It is very likely that reality is a combination of the mindset Nezumi revealed to me and panic. I can understand that. He had no ill intentions and no harm came from his decisions. I cannot blame him for doing the best he could, and in my opinion no guilt attaches to him. That does not imply that I think he acted wisely. Indeed, we both understand now that calling 911 in a timely manner is of overriding importance. It is human to make mistakes, and when that happens, the only acceptable path is to learn from it and avoid the same mistake in the future.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
First Real Post
Originally, my public blog was started as part of an assignment in Digital Literature (which, appropriately enough, was an online course). The assignment included at least two posts, if memory serves me correctly, and I am neglecting those as they had nothing of substance. Taking a cue from the lectionary, I am tackling the blog posts in order. Just as the lectionary is designed to make sure none of scripture is neglected through forgetfulness or avoidance of difficult topics, I am choosing to discuss blog posts in chronological order (skipping fluff posts as I see fit: I am still the author of this blog after all).
Without further ado, this post is from Monday, 8-July 2002:
I do realize the first story is pretty lame. It is included mainly for completeness, but also serves to show that I did have the presence of mind to critique my experiences rationally. Yet, it still puzzles me how that gun could have been cocked.
The most important comment I want to make regards the final paragraph. "I also am very aware of my mental condition." That is simply not true. I know now that the amount I really understand about myself is so incredibly minute in comparison with what is a complete mystery to me. Since that post was written, I have come out of the closet, suffered protracted clinical depression, attempted suicide, and struggled with substance abuse. I do not understand myself or why I do things sometimes. In particular, I do not understand how emotions are supposed to work or how to deal with them, but I am trying. I cannot in good faith claim to be fully aware of "my mental condition." Further, I was taking Acutane at the time, which I realize now altered my mental state (even to the point of hallucinations by the end of the course). Thus, in all humility, my posted statement is hereby amended.
Without further ado, this post is from Monday, 8-July 2002:
Hello reader.
Do unexplainable, freaky things ever happen around your house? I was debating whether to publish this experience, but I think it will be entertaining (and possibly even thought-provoking {gasp!}).
It started Tuesday night. I had watched History's Mysteries or Unsolved Mysteries or some such show that night. It featured mummified corpses, and showed a few of them in detail. That night, I woke up suddenly at about 3am. I was absolutely, completely awake instantly and saw against the opposite wall of my room an image of a warrior-skeleton. I know that sounds odd, but that is the best way I can describe it. The head was a skull, very sinister and dark, and it rested upon a massive, solidly-built body. I call it a warrior because it appeared to be clad in some sort of thick shroud draped upon his shoulders, with heavy epaulettes over this. His left arm was at his side, but his right was bent at the elbow and slightly extended with the hand open loosely in front of where his sternum would be. This image had startled me awake. I realized, of course, that it was merely a mental image inspired by the program I had watched. The "skull" was a Mayan calendar hanging on my wall, and the "body" was my over-filled and messy bookcase. Still, the image was burned into my mind. The neighbour's dog started barking, so I loaded the bb gun that my roommate has hanging over the mantle and placed it beside my bed. The dog did not bark after that, so I did not use the gun.
The next morning, I shot a few rounds of bbs into a paper target, to improve my aim. I unloaded the gun and relaxed the springs before placing it above the mantle. It is better for springs to be stored relaxed than tensed, so I know and remember very clearly that I did this. Later that day, while I was working on one of my research papers, I heard an odd metallic clinking sound. It did not sound like something falling, and I could not immediately place the sound. So, I got up and started looking through the house. The gun was still above the mantle, but it was cocked. The doors were still locked, and I was the only one home. I released the springs, and discovered that the gun had actually been cocked as though it was loaded (which it was not). That is, it was as if the top carriage had been retracted, rather than just pulling the hammer back. Due to the stiffness of the spring, it is energetically impossible for this to have occurred from equilibrium without a significant input of energy. In other words, someone or something had to intentionally expend effort to pull the carriage back and replace the gun to its original position (there is not room where it hangs to do it while staying on its hook).
Those who know me, know that I am an insufferable skeptic. I look for the most scientific and logical explanations for phenomena. I also am very aware of my mental condition (in that, I can tell the difference between when I am imagining something and when it actually occurs). This event is not satisfactorily explained. I really do not know how it happened, and I am very reluctant to attribute it to supernatural forces. What was the purpose of the event? Who, or what, did it? These are questions that I would like answered.
The most important comment I want to make regards the final paragraph. "I also am very aware of my mental condition." That is simply not true. I know now that the amount I really understand about myself is so incredibly minute in comparison with what is a complete mystery to me. Since that post was written, I have come out of the closet, suffered protracted clinical depression, attempted suicide, and struggled with substance abuse. I do not understand myself or why I do things sometimes. In particular, I do not understand how emotions are supposed to work or how to deal with them, but I am trying. I cannot in good faith claim to be fully aware of "my mental condition." Further, I was taking Acutane at the time, which I realize now altered my mental state (even to the point of hallucinations by the end of the course). Thus, in all humility, my posted statement is hereby amended.
いっらしゃいませ! はじまりましょうか?
For the past couple years, I have been meaning to revisit the blogs that I started in mid-2002. One of the blogs was public ("A Day in the Life of...") and the other was private (REDACTED). More recently, I have wanted to get back into writing on a more regular basis, but lacked subject material. Therefore, I have decided to revive old blog posts that are no longer online and expand upon them from my new vantage point. It is particularly propitious that the blogs were originally posted on blogspot, which has apparently been subsumed into the Google conglomerate as Blogger, this very site. I was not planning on going with Blogspot (cum Blogger) again, but I am a Google whore.
P.S.: For the inquisitive non-Japanese reader, the title means, "Welcome (to my place)! Shall we begin?" It is spelled phonetically since my grasp of kanji is tenuous at best.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)