The Kid from Left Field

Recent interactions in relationships have led me to the question:

What, if anything, do we really own?

And the only answer I can come up with that is worth a shit is our life. Our existence, or very ability to be, is the only thing in life we can control. For the most part, we can choose to stay alive or die, to prosper or fail. I'm not talking about financial prosperity or our status in society, I'm talking about how we view our own life. How we approach and solve the mostly meaningless problems we approach everyday? Do we let them bother us to the point of being miserable or do we deal with them and move on? I think our biggest problem blocking us from true happiness is our willingness to trust other people. People, as a whole, will let you down, without exception. Disagree? Prove it. There is not one person, who are some point has let you down. An artist changing direction. A marriage divorcing. A friend dying. These, while some uncontrollable are still a let down. Death of a friend, death of a relationship, as horrible and unavoidable as they seem, are still nothing more than a glorified disappointment. That doesn't make these things any less meaningful, but there are what they are, disappointments.

They should change those banners in elementary schools from "Don't be afraid to shoot for the moon, even if you miss you'll land among the stars" and "Don't ever stop dreaming" to something that is actually true, and will prepare a kid for real life like "There is no such thing as true friendship, everyone is in it for themselves". Or, "Life isn't nearly as exciting as movies and stories make it out to be". But, perhaps the most important is also the most simple:

You will be disappointed.



and now? To add to your disappointment:

Oh.
I'm in love with a ghost.
I'm never sure when she is there.
I'm never sure.

I would die for an addiction.
Glorified longing for satisfaction.
And my greed filled interaction
between self and selfless.
Long and longing
adrift and belonging.
Where is my happy ending?

The most beautiful phrase
a human can utter
is
"I'd give my life"
because it's the only thing
we truly own
and no figure living in the sky
or under the ground
can change the deed to which we adhere.
Our life is ours to disappear.
And I plan to do so.

Where does the good go?

You know what I think the best part of having a outlet of writing nobody reads is?

I can use improperly structured sentences guilt free.

Anyway, it's becoming clearer and clearer to me that nothing I can do in my life will really make a difference in anyone else's. It's almost as if all the talk about being able to change the world, force fed to us when we were younger was a cruel joke. The real world is not all love and hugs, kisses and baked goods. It's hardship. It's not a stupid quote from a movie. It's not a brilliant rhyming chorus in a John Cougar Mellencamp song. Even for those privileged with a financial, physical or mental head start in life it's inevitable that life and what comes with it will eventually catch up with them. Is it wrong to find pleasure in others misfortune, or is it human? are we even misfortunate or just unlucky? What is the point of all of this depression, unhappiness and nonsense? On the grand scale of things, nothing you will do today will matter in one hundred years. No word you can speak will truly make a difference. Everyone is merely a temporary canvas waiting to be written upon.

And those who can sing their song the loudest? They'll be the last to fill that blank page of random personality. These are the modern day philosophers. Advertisers. Marketing Campaigns. Political Ads. These are our modern day brilliant artists.

Art is, you know, something that evokes emotion from someone somewhere, or expresses and emotion. What spurs more mass emotion than a Jonas Brothers song? Or a presidential ad? Or a parade? Or a billboard? Or a flyer? Or a commercial? Those who claim to be the most unaffected are those who are the furthest gone. I'm not sure true happiness can exist for anyone. But I'm positive for most, it's out of the question. Happiness is a new Ipod. Happiness is a extra value meal. Happiness is generosity spent on ourselves. If it helps you to find the best deal on the best golf balls or the most for your money on potted plants, by all means, swindle away! If you can find happiness out of not spending what money you think you have, I salute you. I, however, will be the first in line for the new gadget. I just don't care anymore. Temporary happiness, or the illusion of happiness, is my religion. Praise be to those who can stand the sight of themselves.

And now? A poem.



Skids


Caught relaxing darwinism
Rhythm walking barefoot.
Connection too and being
and so, on and on.

Caught persuading Italy.
Pictured, wrapped and watered.
Boo-Hissed with Traversity
So noble on and on.

I bet you're spoiled rotten.
I'll see you in Milan.
an outstanding question answered
Is my Origin of Species.

As if we needed proof.
Every person is an animal.
Look no further than our nature.
To kill.
To win.
To battle.

I wonder why we listen to poets and nobody gives a fuck.

I've decided to make this an outlet I guess. It's not like anyone is going to read it anyway but at the off chance that there is someone in this same cosmos feeling the way I do at any particular moment, and can for one second share something with me, well, then it's all worth it.

"you win again"

why
am I
obsessed
with quick gratification
I'm sold on celebration
if I could arrange
a car to pick me up
and take me to the theater
to see my latest play
to hear the actors say
the words that I had written
the press would still be smitten
after a decade of brilliant productions
and sing my praises
as i watched from my box
but i
i could never achieve
that kind of validation
because i have yet to
produce any sort
of worth while material
an expression of myself
does not exist
and there for I do not.
But nothing changes
I'm merely a reflection
of artists I have cherished
everything i've written
and everything i've sang
everything i've filmed
and everything i am
is fake
phony
a rip off of true talent
that doesn't exist.

Goodbye Blue Monday

I think it's time to talk about Bullshit.

Bullshit, my friends, is so prevalent in our world we should change it's name to Hydrogen. Think about it. We'd have B-Bombs instead of H-bombs. And Bullshit peroxide instead of hydrogen.

Anyway, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "How do I, as a single human entity, dispute and fight bullshit in the world?"

Great question, Charlie.

Here is the answer:

Anti Bullshit

So it goes.

True Grit

"Magical thinking is a slippery slope. Sometimes it's harmless enough, but sometimes it's quite dangerous. Personally, I'm opposed to that kind of fakery so I have no reservations at all about exposing these people and their illusions for what they really are"

- James Randi

Most people may be wondering who is James Randi?. James Randi is in reality, a hero for the simpled minded. He, unsatisfied with just being a talented magician, has spent the better part of his life debunking those who claim to have some sort of supernatural power. All of these mind readers, spoon benders, aura readers, god talkers, psychics and "power havers" all have the same thing in common, and that is when James Randi examined them they all turned out to be exactly what he expected them to be, a big hoax.



One of the most famous cases of Randi's debunking came with a "faith healer" named Peter Popoff. Peter Popoff amazed believers by being able to pick out their name, illness and address from out of nowhere. Popoff credited it to god talking directly to him. James Randi took a radio scanner to a few of his speeches and picked up something peculiar. It wasn't god talking to Popoff, but rather his wife over a radio signal, which Popoff received through a receiver in his ear. Not only was Popoff taking money from these innocent people, but he was also making fun of them with his wife behind their back. And the worst part? People believed they were actually being healed.






If that isn't enough to convince you of James Randi's importance here he is debunking a Spoon Bender:



An Aura Reader:



A crystal reader and applied kinesiology:



Perhaps the most interesting thing about James Randi is his commitment to his beliefs. The James Randi Educational Foundation offers a $1,000,000 prize for any psychic, spoon bender or pencil mover, who can under controlled circumstances can prove that they have some sort of paranormal power. So far, only one person has agreed to take it and she has yet to schedule a time:



It has been 299 weeks since she accepted.


James Randi's importance goes beyond debunking those who think they have some sort of power. His work has helped to expose those who take advantage of the goodness and trust of other people. With James Randi in the world, perhaps millions of people have saved money and false hope and have simply learned to turn the channel when these criminals appear on television and for that, we should be thankful.



"Why people are so drawn to the irrational is something that has always puzzled me. I want to be if I can, as sure of the real world around me as is possible. Now, you can only attain that to a certain degree but I want the greatest degree of control. I've never involved myself in narcotics of any kind, I don't smoke, I don't drink because that can easily just fuzz the edges of my rationality, fuzz the edges of my reasoning powers and I want to be as aware as I possibly can. That means giving up alot of fantasy's that might be comforting in some ways but I'm willing to give that up in order to live in an actually real world, or as close as I can get to it."

-James Randi