Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Never Go Full Retard

Friends, morons, countrymen, lend me your ears and throw me your panties; I come to bury reason, not to embrace it. What even passes for reason anymore in this age of electronic wizardry, where citizens give away their rights and privacy with the tap of a finger? Most folks can't point out Afghanistan on a map, but now we all know that not only is Bruce Jenner an Olympic gold medalist, but he's also a world class freak; and I ain't hatin', I'm just sayin'.

We can't even teach our kids to add two plus three anymore without finding two's motivation and whether three feels threatened. You all remember when seven eight nine. It was a terrible tragedy. It's like the whole country has gone full retard, but we're Americans, damn it and we're proud of our ignorance and stupidity. We've got that Texas Thug, Tom DeLay saying on some ministry conman show, "...we stopped realizing that God created this nation, that he wrote the Constitution..."

Republican lawmaker Tom Cotton said about the recent anti-gay legislation in Indiana, I…think it’s important that we have a sense of perspective about our priorities. In Iran they hang you for the crime of being gay.” Right here in Seattle, a seventy-year-old black man was arrested last summer for carrying a golf club. He was actually using the golf club as a cane, but apparently the white officer felt threatened by this military veteran, who had never been arrested before. I'm telling you...full retard. 

It's very easy these days to feel that we're standing on the precipice of an apocalypse. The current phrase en vogue is the Sixth Extinction. We still have global warming deniers. Worse than that, a recent poll released by the National Science Foundation showed that 1 in 4 Americans thinks that the sun revolves around the earth. The whole country has gone full retard and we're fiddling with our smart phones while the earth burns.

In the long run though, our existence is just a blink of an eye in this vast universe of ours. When all of human consciousness has been snuffed out, there will still be the ever-changing universe around us. There just won't be any humans to take senseless pride in their temporary existence, giving it much more meaning than it deserves, which is nil. Men are no better than women. Straights are no better than gays. Whites are certainly no better than black or brown people. Humans are not even any more important than the eagle that soars above or the mouse that crawls below...we just think we are.

And what are thoughts? If I give you a penny for your thoughts than I've overvalued your thinking. Whether one believes that global warming is man enhanced, or god's destiny, in the end none of it matters. You can't take it with you. Or rather: You cannot take you with you. Once you've exhaled that last breath and your synapses have powered down, that's it. You are still matter, but that matter no longer contains any consciousness. Just ashes to ashes, and dust to dust.

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

The Truth is...

The truth is that it's a battle every day. Actually, there are battles on multiple fronts. There are the usual emotional battles, and then add to them the financial and work tussles that come with life in America. There is no American Dream. That's just some bullshit that the rich tycoons thought up to keep the peasants from burning down their mansions. Do you remember the trickle down theory of economics brought to us by the Reagan administration? Okay, which one of you fools out there actually believed that bullshit? And bullshit is right, because that's the only substance I ever imagined trickling down from the gold plated toilets of the rich pampered assholes up there. Just the term should have alerted us: Trick Down Economics. It says right there that you are at the bottom and if you're lucky, some crumbs will fall from the table. Sucker!

These days I'm battling my ex over parenting issues that shouldn't even exist. Life is being made more difficult by the selfish desires of one person over the needs of at least a half dozen others. The sun is shining, but rain is always on the horizon. My estranged family are all on the east coast, where there always seems to be dark clouds hovering above; at least when I'm there it does. I don't even think I can journey back to the east coast again in my lifetime without a series of anti-biotics and vaccines, and a pocketful full of happy pills. That's the danger zone for me, and I need to stay out here in the neutral zone. I need to be Sweden.

Now I need to gather my things together and prepare for my trek to work. Today is my 2pm to 1030pm shift, which allows me to sleep in and write a blog post or two. Not only are there clouds outside today, with rain threatening; there are clouds in my heart, and they don't look like bunnies and flowers. These clouds like like dark laughing skulls. Ew! That's depressing! Stop that! Take that heart of darkness outside and get some sunshine, my man!

Thinking Outside of the Box

Thinking outside of the old bone box. Pushing our intentions past our fragile skulls out into the world. How much effect can any of us really have in the long run?  I realize that sounds negative, and Eeyore-like, but that's me. I'm a cynic that sees where we're all headed and all I can do is shake my head in wonder. I may think outside the box, but at the end of the day, I have to put all those thoughts back in the box.

I've always thought of myself as an honest person, but no one can be completely honest. Hell, by the time our honest-injun words leave our mouth, they're already tainted with our bias and judgments. My morals are quite different from my family's, and I am reminded of that every day. My pure raw honest thoughts must stay in their bone box, because words hurt, and the thoughts behind them can be downright devastating.

What am I really talking about here? I believe that we're all bull goose loony, but some of us are better at hiding it than others. But if we're all as crazy as Alice than I guess the word crazy can just be dismissed. Some of us hide our honest thoughts better than others. It would be ridiculous for me to expound on subjects that my partner may not be interesting in, or may even be offended by. Sometimes I fail, and my bitter angry honesty comes out. It's at those times that I realize what anti-depressants are really for: to contain our real selves.

My real or authentic self is pretty fucked up. I've done a pretty good job of hiding it over the years, and semi-fitting into society. I'm finding as I get older that I get tired of toeing the line and thinking inside the box. Well, I've never really thought inside the box, but I've always been reluctant at sharing those thoughts with my fellow humans. For whatever reason, I have always given my ideas short shrift.

Sometimes I would rather have been born Bill Blasé and let all of the bullshit roll off my back like a duck in water, but that's not in my DNA. I'm often agitated, edgy and nervous, but my exterior shows a certain Mr. Calm with a predilection for weed. As John Lennon once said, "Nobody loves you when you're down and out. Everybody loves you when you're six feet under ground."

So, I type out my angst and send it out there into the ether for others to peruse and maybe contemplate my words. Also, I like others with depression and a sense of loss and alienation to know that you are not alone. Well, actually you are alone, but there are millions of others like you out there, also alone in the world, wondering if they'll ever get to really speak their mind without getting a backhand or the cold shoulder. So, take cold comfort in that notion and enjoy your day!

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Back With a Vengeance

Well, not really a vengeance. That brings to mind an image of me, busting through the doors of the bookstore upon my return, with guns blazing. "Just who do I have to bust a cap in to get a book around here!" The truth is that I took a mental health day yesterday, so I'd rather not return to work at all, because I'm blissed-out from my nearly 24 hours in the woods. I realize that not all of you out there in Internetland know what I mean be reconnecting to the earth, but my wilderness friends know.

It's very difficult to hold on to anger, while resting by a river. It's tough to think vituperative words about ex's and why's, while hearing the spring bird songs, or feeling the rain, filtering down through the firs upon your waiting face. Those aren't tears. That's a cleansing rain, washing away sorrows and resentments. It's true that I had to return to the madding world last night, and to work today. In the past, I have never been very adept at bringing some of that spiritual contentment back to the world of man (yes, atheists can find spiritual contentment too. It doesn't require a make-believe deity.)

I'm soon to be fifty-four years old, which my son constantly reminds me, either verbally or by wearing me out on the playing field. I have found myself speaking out more recently, at work and in life in general, holding my ground with more fortitude than I have in the past. Maybe I'm managing to finally drop some of my old fears away. That would make the burden I carry through life a little lighter.

I'm definitely not a Let-Go,Let-God kind of guy. God has been absent from my life, and if he's out there, he knows I've always got a bowl to smoke with him. He can even unload his universal burdens on me, if that makes Him feel better. Let's let bygones be bygones. But, never an answer or a return call, so I moved on about a dozen years ago, when I slammed the lid on depending on the fantastical, which I could never really do with conviction anyway.

At this point in my life, the mortal horizon is just starting to become visible. I can see it clearly enough to realize that I have limited time on this earth as a conscious human being. There are many earthly pleasures to still be enjoyed, and the closer to earth I get the more enjoyment I feel. Some of these pleasures I have to enjoy on my own, and I've become better at accepting that without the usual tinge of loneliness that comes along with it. I've also come to realize that contentment depends so much on ones' viewpoint, and I think that -- after all these years -- my viewpoint is finally becoming beneficial to my life.

So yes, I think about the end of my life, and use that contemplation to enhance the life I am currently living. I don't think of the "end of times," because that's a human construction that doesn't take into consideration any predicament except human selfishness and egotism. Since God is just inside your head, praying is really just a form of mental masturbation. You're better off taking a hike, and sitting for a spell in your natural surroundings. If you sit long enough, your rhythms start to match those of your environment. It starts to seem silly to hold on to the thoughts that civilization generates. Instead, one starts to feel the importance of listening to the birds, and deciphering the wind through the trees.

I'm obviously full of the spirit of the wilderness, which, as anyone who has witnessed a thunderstorm knows, is not always peaceful and serene, but it is always honest. Nature is just what it is, without bias, or judgment. One must leave behind those human inventions when stepping into the woods. I do that gladly and I hope to do it more and more, as I get older and grow more and more tired of these ridiculous societies we've encased ourselves in.

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

I Have Been Remiss

I have approximately thirty minutes to bang out a blog post. Not really enough time for anything decent, but here goes. Last week my excuse for not pining and whining on my blog, was because I was determined to finish reading The Revised Fundamentals of Caregiving by Jonathan Evison. I accomplished that feat, but I have been haunted by the fact that I didn't write a post last week. It's not as if I have readers chomping at the bit to get to my words, but I do get some type of emotional and artistic fulfillment by writing these posts.

Last night was a humdinger in the world of things-that-make-me-depressed. I came home to find a letter from the town of Rehoboth, where I grew up and then quickly left. This letter was stating that my parents' land was going to be claimed for unpaid taxes. Now, we have been paying the taxes all along, but apparently somebody in the town office is not receiving those payments. We recently actually got to speak to a live person and it seemed like it had been worked out, only to receive this legal notice yesterday.

Ten minutes after opening that letter, I get an unfamiliar knock on the door. There standing in front of me, is a Sylvia Browne look-alike, holding some folded documents. "Are you Mark?" She asked. "Yes," I responded automatically. "These are for you." The documents, now in my naive hands, were to inform my wife and I that we were being taken to court for unpaid medical bills. It felt like a one-two punch in the gut. I laid down for twenty minutes; cried a few tears, and then got up and dusted myself off.

Am I the wrong person to be with in a crisis? Do I run around like a chicken with my head cut off, screaming "THE SKY IS FALLING! THE SKY IS FALLING!" (I realize that image doesn't necessarily work, but I've been off a few steps lately.) I've been to survival school, so I know how to deep fry clover blossoms and clean and cook a trout. I can build a shelter and probably get a fire lit, but usually not under my own ass.

I am calm, but inside of my tumultuous soul, I sense the wicked witch of the west, flying by on her broomstick, while the world around me spins into an unrecognizable oblivion. Now it's time to stick my ear buds in, pick a playlist and head to work. I have lots of books to shelve and customers to please. Are you a potential customer just aching to be pleased? Give me a call.....