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vicarzLike a house post, I feel like I want to get some things out but I'm not going to put the effort into composing this, bias on teh side of getting these thoughts down in case I wish to collect them later.
Afterthought - it's probably rude to blast this but I don't feel like a cut - I wrote this. Oh wait this isn't facebook. Ok I'll cut it.
Reflections on age and death (actual but more end of contribution or relevance):
Finally finished that god awful auto-bio of Vonnegut. It greatly diminished my opinion of him, but also made me appreciate his work as the product of an imperfect person. It drove home the lesson that most successes I've known, artistic or otherwise, were the product of endless effort and failures. Also, most anything I know wasn't art for the sake of art, but a manufactured product. According to the book, Vonnegut
fuck this beer is good - Troeg's javahead works for me
so does the open window
didn't rest with his success - he kept trying to replicate it, surpass it. As he aged and his family fell apart, he lashed out harder at his critics, and all but begged for more permanent recognition. He didn't handle criticism well; worse he knew he was dying and wanted to...make more of a mark? He wasn't content to rest but was unable to (generally) produce much writing.
My mother. She's not dead, but the family failed and her claim to fame...I won't talk about her much here. In her I see acceptance of obsolescence and yet not. She's running around the world and telling anyone who will listen, but her audience is limited as appears their interest. Perhaps I'm biased towards my own problems, but I view her as doing things for a perceived audience rather than for herself. No mother I don't want to see Mayan ruins and I don't care if you do - love you but not the least bit interested. Enjoy for your own sake.
PART of why I'm sitting here drinking alone is "this is my down week" from the gym. Normally I would work out, but feeling dwarfed by my friend's accomplishments and seeing multiple doctors to try and recover from injuries, plus seeing guys my size squat 1-200 lbs more than I can, makes me face a little clearer the fact what I'm doing is silly. I like it, and not about to stop - hell the seeing doctors is a major move towards a much longer-term investment. But normally I couldn't have had 2 drinks with a friend Sunday, 3 more alone in public Mon, and beeroclock tonight. Also, I feel the need to discover my emotions. I am having the crazy but I'm so fucking functional I'm not sure I understand the crazy and the source. What course of action is correct?
And this training was fascinating. I listened to a bunch of white-haired arbitrators all this week, all male but 1 (and SHE was AWESOME, on her own she was one of the best, but particularly for standing as strong as she did in the face of some archaic attitudes). Understand, arbitrators are often retired lawyers. I saw 2 major things in the men:
One. Outdated attitudes. Arbitrators are used to running the show, and like men from isolated bastions of
- something tells me I'm going to shout next to this open window tonight -
of...terms escape me, dens of pigs? Tailhook of today? See they are the judge, so we all speak to them and lap the ground politely when they speak no matter how wrong they are. It's always a major strategic decision when an arbitrator falls asleep - they get pissed when you point it out for the record, but if you don't then you can't raise the sleeping arbitrator as a reason on appeal. So this one in particular espoused some highly sexist views (a man being sexually harassed by a woman would just be grateful and flattered, no case here!) and the one female threw a tantrum that 5-10 years ago would have been called feminazi or something, but was 100% on fucking point about how exactly that type of downplaying harassment is the very culture we are trying to combat....ok so that was one issue. The poor fool(s) just got a glimpse, that they're usually protected from like extended family or a small town, of how the world had passed them by and their understanding of the world around them was no longer accurate...or relevant.
Two. Relevance or ability. One man, he was very knowledgeable. He was...failing though. He locked in on issues quickly sure, but he. Spoke. Slow. Lee. His voice broke. He used a cane to get to the podium, and when he arrived he took off a bag and pulled out his notes. He was...fading. His knowledge was intact, his mind sharp, but he was slowing down; everything he did was right and well done, but it took time. I felt tired, weary for him. I suppose it's not so bad for these arbitrators, they've had careers, multiple ones, and for ages rendered decisions for others and understand there are those who preceded them and they have helped train those who will follow. Some noted they have fulfilled the role for others. Perhaps the Vonnegut thing has me confused, but I wondered how they felt about...dying, or losing the ability to continue to hold the important role they have.
How, when you have been so important to the people you talk to on a near-daily basis, do you regulate yourself to sitting in coffee shops reading the paper, happy to talk to the bright eyed barista? Do you long for a question?
Want to be missed? Die fucking now while people still know you. Only a few of us have preceded us in death, but they're all easily topics of conversation. Die fucking now and your friends will remember you, probably more than they should.
I'm lucky to have faced obsolescence in my life. I was a loser as a kid, and while I clearly rose to levels of mediocrity, I've had the fortunate perspective of not mattering much. I've been proud, and achieved, but nothing noteworthy. I'll be statistically insignificant before I die - and the longer I live, the less my absence will matter when I go. I barely know people now and
holy fuck that redhead good god. Where the hell did she come from? Whew...boy does that take me back. Mmm.
In theory I don't mind dying now. I don't have dreams of changing the world; my fantasy still bounces from pleasure and getting away with it to avoiding pain (not in that order). But I say this still being a physical challenge for most strangers I meet, for being attractive enough not to be ashamed of my lizardy impulses and possibly well received ... I dunno.
I think I have run out of steam.
Afterthought - it's probably rude to blast this but I don't feel like a cut - I wrote this. Oh wait this isn't facebook. Ok I'll cut it.
Reflections on age and death (actual but more end of contribution or relevance):
Finally finished that god awful auto-bio of Vonnegut. It greatly diminished my opinion of him, but also made me appreciate his work as the product of an imperfect person. It drove home the lesson that most successes I've known, artistic or otherwise, were the product of endless effort and failures. Also, most anything I know wasn't art for the sake of art, but a manufactured product. According to the book, Vonnegut
fuck this beer is good - Troeg's javahead works for me
so does the open window
didn't rest with his success - he kept trying to replicate it, surpass it. As he aged and his family fell apart, he lashed out harder at his critics, and all but begged for more permanent recognition. He didn't handle criticism well; worse he knew he was dying and wanted to...make more of a mark? He wasn't content to rest but was unable to (generally) produce much writing.
My mother. She's not dead, but the family failed and her claim to fame...I won't talk about her much here. In her I see acceptance of obsolescence and yet not. She's running around the world and telling anyone who will listen, but her audience is limited as appears their interest. Perhaps I'm biased towards my own problems, but I view her as doing things for a perceived audience rather than for herself. No mother I don't want to see Mayan ruins and I don't care if you do - love you but not the least bit interested. Enjoy for your own sake.
PART of why I'm sitting here drinking alone is "this is my down week" from the gym. Normally I would work out, but feeling dwarfed by my friend's accomplishments and seeing multiple doctors to try and recover from injuries, plus seeing guys my size squat 1-200 lbs more than I can, makes me face a little clearer the fact what I'm doing is silly. I like it, and not about to stop - hell the seeing doctors is a major move towards a much longer-term investment. But normally I couldn't have had 2 drinks with a friend Sunday, 3 more alone in public Mon, and beeroclock tonight. Also, I feel the need to discover my emotions. I am having the crazy but I'm so fucking functional I'm not sure I understand the crazy and the source. What course of action is correct?
And this training was fascinating. I listened to a bunch of white-haired arbitrators all this week, all male but 1 (and SHE was AWESOME, on her own she was one of the best, but particularly for standing as strong as she did in the face of some archaic attitudes). Understand, arbitrators are often retired lawyers. I saw 2 major things in the men:
One. Outdated attitudes. Arbitrators are used to running the show, and like men from isolated bastions of
- something tells me I'm going to shout next to this open window tonight -
of...terms escape me, dens of pigs? Tailhook of today? See they are the judge, so we all speak to them and lap the ground politely when they speak no matter how wrong they are. It's always a major strategic decision when an arbitrator falls asleep - they get pissed when you point it out for the record, but if you don't then you can't raise the sleeping arbitrator as a reason on appeal. So this one in particular espoused some highly sexist views (a man being sexually harassed by a woman would just be grateful and flattered, no case here!) and the one female threw a tantrum that 5-10 years ago would have been called feminazi or something, but was 100% on fucking point about how exactly that type of downplaying harassment is the very culture we are trying to combat....ok so that was one issue. The poor fool(s) just got a glimpse, that they're usually protected from like extended family or a small town, of how the world had passed them by and their understanding of the world around them was no longer accurate...or relevant.
Two. Relevance or ability. One man, he was very knowledgeable. He was...failing though. He locked in on issues quickly sure, but he. Spoke. Slow. Lee. His voice broke. He used a cane to get to the podium, and when he arrived he took off a bag and pulled out his notes. He was...fading. His knowledge was intact, his mind sharp, but he was slowing down; everything he did was right and well done, but it took time. I felt tired, weary for him. I suppose it's not so bad for these arbitrators, they've had careers, multiple ones, and for ages rendered decisions for others and understand there are those who preceded them and they have helped train those who will follow. Some noted they have fulfilled the role for others. Perhaps the Vonnegut thing has me confused, but I wondered how they felt about...dying, or losing the ability to continue to hold the important role they have.
How, when you have been so important to the people you talk to on a near-daily basis, do you regulate yourself to sitting in coffee shops reading the paper, happy to talk to the bright eyed barista? Do you long for a question?
Want to be missed? Die fucking now while people still know you. Only a few of us have preceded us in death, but they're all easily topics of conversation. Die fucking now and your friends will remember you, probably more than they should.
I'm lucky to have faced obsolescence in my life. I was a loser as a kid, and while I clearly rose to levels of mediocrity, I've had the fortunate perspective of not mattering much. I've been proud, and achieved, but nothing noteworthy. I'll be statistically insignificant before I die - and the longer I live, the less my absence will matter when I go. I barely know people now and
holy fuck that redhead good god. Where the hell did she come from? Whew...boy does that take me back. Mmm.
In theory I don't mind dying now. I don't have dreams of changing the world; my fantasy still bounces from pleasure and getting away with it to avoiding pain (not in that order). But I say this still being a physical challenge for most strangers I meet, for being attractive enough not to be ashamed of my lizardy impulses and possibly well received ... I dunno.
I think I have run out of steam.
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no subject
Date: 2014-07-25 12:03 am (UTC)I agree with you on beer. The walking to/from the metro is helping, but I promised myself no serious beer excursions until I drop a few pounds/tighten up in a few places. Your comment about working out struck the chord as I just finished walking back from Golds. If it were a Friday I just might shower and head back out to begin scouting beer places, but, alas, other virtues now come into play.
Perhaps you will still be in the extended neighborhood after August 5th for at least a few weeks?
no subject
Date: 2014-07-25 09:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-07-26 07:59 pm (UTC)That Vonnegut stuff: huh. Live fast and die young, or fizzle out into forgottenness. I have this plan to publish a tell-all after everyone I know is dead, which requires that I live to be quite old. It might be better to get to a point where the stories people tell of you are softer. Nicer. It's not as interesting, but interesting gets old after a while.
no subject
Date: 2014-07-31 11:16 pm (UTC)