Thanks for your comments, I actually didn’t expect them to be there today… I know it’s been a while since I posted, I’ve had a hard time clearing my head enough to write something… It’s the time of year for things to get busy for me and stay that way until about January 2.
cedertree: To make sure you understand my comment a little bit more completely, and to explain for folks that didn’t read it, I appreciate that you believe in astrology, because astrology is _something_. The stars do indeed have a very strong psychological effect on me: I hate daylight savings time. Every year, at the end of October, the sun disappears from the sky when I leave work, and when I go to work I don’t see enough of it; it takes its toll by mid-December. I’m not sure if there are any other effects on me, but perhaps that’s because I don’t spend enough time checking on the stars in the sky? For me, the lesson of astrology is that things most definitely happen in cycles of different sizes, and in some ways, shapes, and they have effects on the way we all behave, regardless of what the reasons for this may be.
Mister_Green: What I hated most about ‘the origin of evil’ is that psychology and anthropology are supposed to be somewhat scientific studies, yet no professor I ever had bothered to define or quantify just what ‘good’ and ‘evil’ are! I could deduce from discussion, that most of the students at least, implied ‘good’ to mean ‘socially acceptable’ and ‘evil’ to mean ‘sociopathic’ or ‘socially unacceptable’. With this in mind, much of the Western world is stuck in a mish-mash and cannot define any behaviour as strictly good or evil. I prefer to think of ‘good’ as ‘selfless’ and ‘evil’ as ‘selfish’, and with that in mind, nobody is ever completely good or evil, because you simply wouldn’t be able to survive.
I like the line “Let’s pretend we won a war, like a football match…” (DJ Culture, by the Pet Shop Boys) There are many ways to keep life exciting without requiring people to hurt each other deliberately.
Went to visit a friend last weekend because I know I’ll be too busy to visit for the next two months… he’s had me thinking.
WESTERN CULTURE HAS HOMOGENIZED SO MUCH SO THAT THERE IS NO CLEAR RITE OF ADULTHOOD.
This is drilled home by an old friend I’m not in touch with anymore, telling me that despite having reached his 30’s, he doesn’t feel any different from the way he did when he was a teenager. There is probably much more to it than that, but I’ll touch on it later.
Western culture has homogenized so much so that it is now wrong to assert whatever customs may run in your family upon your children. At what point have I become a man? Was it when I confirmed myself to the Catholic Church? Was it when I lost my virginity? Was it when I got my driver’s liscense? Was it when I graduated high school? Maybe it was when I turned 18 and could vote? Maybe it was when I left college? Or was it when I became old enough to drink? Maybe it was when I moved out west and moved in with some friends, without family intervention, or it was when I moved out and got an apartment by myself for a while?
Perhaps I should refer to the quests of manhood as my high school buddies used to say them:
First quest: Knowledge!
Second quest: Power!
Third quest: A WOMAN WITH TWO…. BIG…. BREASTESSES!
No, that’s not it either.
Ultimately, my maturity is decided in my own mind, which may or may not be okay.
“UNCORRECETED PERSONALITY TRAITS THAT SEEM WHIMSICAL IN A CHILD MAY PROVE UGLY IN A FULLY GROWN ADULT.”
The reason we have to have laws dictating a standard for determining maturity is because if I have decided that I am mature when I in fact am not, something really, really bad can happen. It’s up there with that ‘definition of good and evil’ stuff. Of course, we have never travelled at 56 miles per hour or faster after passing a sign that says ‘SPEED LIMIT 55’, now, have we?
People try to solve their bodies’ basic needs, like eating and bathing and sleeping… and then it’s time to have fun.
Well, everyone has different ideas for what’s fun, and well, I’m beginning to think that some people seem to need more fun than others, and there’s nothing wrong with that (I hope). What happens, however, if a psychological dependency is developed, or rather, what happens if someone gets addicted to fun?
Was it antisocial for me to sit and watch game six on TV (mostly by myself) at a party while the ‘real’ goings on was a board game downstairs, which obviously was not compelling enough to pry me away from a pretty good ball game? After that, I was whiling hours waiting for my pals to want to go home. It wasn’t all bad, mind you, but it wasn’t really a good party for me. The highlight was probably those GI Joe spoofs. No, I think it was the caucasian fellow that saw Juan Encarnacion running for the pitcher’s mound on the TV and exclaimed, “That’s the happiest black guy I have ever seen!”
“He just won the World Series, dude.”
These people spend some thousands of dollars annually on Renaisance Faire costumes and science fiction conventions, communicate with each other using internet handles and imaginary characters, and, while I’m not against it, they carry with themselves a thought process that when they’re pretending they are more ‘honest’ than when they interact with the working world.
Let me phrase this a different way, so that it’s understood why I percieve this thought as dangerous: You are honest while using a psuedonym and pretending to be a cartoon character; you are lying while using the name your mother gave you and you’re earning a living.
It’s fun to pretend sometimes, and I admit, it’s kindof empowering to be sitting here in my own Cyberspace just talking, but I’m not ashamed of the person I go back to being when I shut the PC off and go to bed. I like the name my mother chose for me; she told me she chose it because she liked the way it sounded.
This has decended into more of a rant than I’ve intended.
What I mean to vent off, is that I’m weary of folks who wonder why I am not fanatical about the things I like anymore. The reason is because I’ve found the behaviour of fanatics (which, by the way, is shortened ‘fan’) to be unfavourable. I used to watch a ball game every day, but I don’t anymore, part because I can’t, and part because I occasionally find that when I can, I simply don’t want to, perhaps I’ve lost interest.
I should find better parties.