Nature Boy

There was a boy
A very strange enchanted boy
They say he wandered very far, very far
Over land and sea
A little shy and sad of eye
But very wise was he

And then one day
A magic day he passed my way
And while we spoke of many things
Fools and kings
This he said to me
The greatest thing you'll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return

The greatest thing you'll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return

- Nat King Cole

How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria?

I don't know -- let's call the Nazis.

Seriously, though:  there are many times over the last six or so years I realized I was *the* problem.  That really sucked, because I've always opted for conciliation over confrontation, and I've never been the one to cause a scene.  I loathe drama, and would never want to be the center of it.  But then, it's never been about me, has it?  That was made abundantly clear by folks in the 'hood where I live, when I asked.  It's about the people causing a scene.  Now, a lot of that noise came from well-intentioned, paranoid tweakers who kept saying, "Yes!  I knew it!"  But still...

The fact remains that for some, I was a problem.

I know who you are because it was I who was the problem, and I know myself quite intimately.

What I've always said is this:  apportioning blame never solves a problem, but defining it often does.

So what kind of problem do I represent?  It's rather simple, and as my neighbors in the Tenderloin averred (granted, they were mostly ignant niggas -- but not all) my meth use was not the problem.  My thoughts were not really the problem.  Okay, so my words and deeds were a little more problematic, but they should have brought more ruin on me than those who chose to set themselves against me, but I digress...

This is the problem I represent, in a paragraph:  I'm a highly intelligent, articulate, good person (by all estimations) who is poor and disenfranchised.  That is very dangerous to some people, and whose to say those very people didn't discover me?  My grandmother was a COINTELPRO subject (who dealt with harassment from the FBI in a far more manly manner than I handled harassment -- I pretty much at my worst did the "hot bitch from the 70s" routine where I shrunk up against the wall, recoiling in my anticipation of "their" killing me.  My grandmother was much more steely against J. Edgar Hoover and the Unamerican Activities people), and I was scouted out by an agency -- soon to be named -- when I was a pre-pubescent high-IQ rebellious fag.  Good getting the drop on me, but where are we know with making me ridiculous or co-opting me?

What I Have Yet To Experience

• Abduction by gray skins
• Martyrdom
• Persecution by secret societies
• Reading my own CIA dossier
• Wealth
• Slot machine jackpot (SEE "wealth")
• Paranoia
• Pyramid power
• Past life regression (I think.  I don't remember.  Maybe I have...)
• Visions of Atlantis or Lemuria or Mu
• A successful magic spell
• A conversion to Christianity

Why I Blog

"Practice any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what's inside you, to make your soul grow." - Kurt Vonnegut

Not That The Onus Is On Me...

...to "prove" anything, but I think when I get paid next month I'm just going to go ahead and buy an otoscope, and post a picture of my outer ear canal and eardrum.  Then we can all agree for once and for all whether or not I do have some kind of hardware in my skull (I don't see how it's possible, because I don't recall any recovery time being necessary after the procedure was allegedly performed in 2009.  Weird shit.)

It should at least put to rest any debate that's going on out there among those schizophrenics, tweakers, and other undiagnosed individuals as to whether or not I personally have a government implant.  I mean, I could just be as crazy as everybody else.  That is a possibility...

Who Hears Their Cranial Implant

Talk about "delusional belief systems" over and over again?  I have to admit, I'm a little stumped.

Research Into The Events of 2009

ABIs, brain implants, and cochlear implants.  I love Wikipedia as a jumping off point for solid research into certain technologies and phenomena.  Did you know, for instance, that cochlear implants of a certain kind can induce psychosis?  Fascinating stuff.

I feel like Jaime Sommers crossed with Sylvia Brown.

Personal Gossip About A Private, Reclusive Woman

"I just love Syd.  She knows exactly who to snub.  And opinions!  Honey, that girl has an opinion on everything and everyone.  Just ask her if you don't know what to think, and she'll tell you.  And she's so frugal with other people's money -- she should have an MBA from Bennington..."

William Answers Vanity Fair's Version of the Proust Questionnaire

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

A clean house.

What is your greatest fear?

A car crash.

Which living person do you most admire?

Sister Mary Elizabeth of the Lesotho, a Carmelite nun whom I met in San Francisco, 2001.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?

My thoughtlessness and insensitivity.

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

Self-sacrifice.

What do you dislike most about your appearance?

The scowl lines between my eyebrows.

What or who is the greatest love of your life?

A young, secret admirer whom I too often needle because I in turn am enamored of him.

When and where were you happiest?

At the Azuma family's kitchen table during dinner, Wakayama Prefecture, Japan, 1995.

Which talent would you most like to have?

The ability to perform feats of higher mathematics.

What is your current state of mind?

Open.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

I would be wealthier.

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Being a good friend and a good son.

If you could choose what to come back as, what would it be?

An old Chinese woman who lives by a river in a mud hut -- one who wears quilted jackets and keeps a pig.

What do you regard as the lowest depths of misery?

Having betrayed a loved one.

What is the quality you most like in a man?

A sense of humor.

What is the quality you most like in a woman?

Strength.

What do you most value in your friends?

Their utter lack of reluctance in confronting me about my faults and misdeeds.

Who are your favorite writers?

Carl Sagan, Sawako Ariyoshi, Francois Sagat, Vladimir Nabokov, Gene Wolfe, Charlotte Brontë.

Who is your favorite hero of fiction?

Smilla Jaspersen.

Who are your heroes in real life?

Special forces.

What is it that you most dislike?

Chitlins.

How would you like to die?

Causing trouble.

What is your motto?

Semper lepidus.

In My 20s...

...I was all over flame wars in About.com and Delphi forums.  I ran a blog called Freedom Camp, written under a nom de Web, that was pretty snarky and less-than-forgiving to what I saw as the stupidity in Bush Administration supporters and neoconservatives.  If there's anything I would do today, it would probably be to apologize to Bushies for being so sharp-tongued.  I have a better notion now of how to get things done, and while I still enjoy Sadly, No!, Eschaton, and other satirical or biting blogs, I've opted to be a better Buddhist and eschew grappling with anyone in such a way that I come across as attacking the individual...

“Just how charitable are you supposed to be when criticizing the views of an opponent?”

What Is This, LIFE OF OHARU?

[Black and white.  Perspective:  from the ceiling.  Japanese zither music plays mournfully.  William, dressed all in black, collapses before the candles and the statue of Buddha.]

I Know I've Been Something of a Hassle...

...And let's hope that turns out to have been a good thing.  I got the message:  it would be nice for me to stick around for as long as possible.  For my part, I aim to have a future, but we must ever mind that the world is an uncertain place, and the universe in which it spins like an infinitesimal mote is a rather indifferent and hostile universe.  We can never hope to encompass and thereby control everything that is, and we should be wise enough never to want to or to try.  Time is fleeting, and not all of us will make it to tomorrow -- I am no more deserving of a future than anyone else.  So fingers crossed, and I'll try not to get killed.

Love and thanks to everyone again, and best wishes.

Alpha, Omega

These rooms are our enemy:  killing walls on all four sides, these boxes are rife with death and pain, history and plans.  So much in them belongs to those who preceded us, who left it all behind.  What an inheritance!  We are preached at to be compassionate and forgiving to those who deserve ten times the harm and suffering they visit upon the likes of us.  Carmelite nuns admonish us that we especially are called upon to be Christ-like.  Bitches.  It's no wonder minds seem lost here, characters warped, the future -- when we can risk hoping for one -- the future is bleak.  We should really lock ourselves out more often.  Also, we forget to forgive ourselves for our imperfections.  We have many shoulds on our respective plates; those by the way are our individual responsibilities.

Oh, love?  Love is every song you've ever heard and then some.  It's the best stuff in life.  Of course, love is a murderous sonofabitch and a tyrant.  Don't get caught on the wrong side of love -- you're liable to be diced to bits.

And life, you ask, what is it about?  A very personal pursuit, purpose and meaning in life.  In my case, I liked the food, the sex, music, getting fucked up, and my loved ones.  Oh, later on, I did learn something profound:  one should try to live life so well it inspires others to jealous homicide.  That's like an A+ or a gold star.  Right, I also loved mountains and dogs.  Oh, and water:  swimming or bathing, ocean or tub, snow or monsoon -- water's been heavenly.  Have I told you how unbelievably good it tastes coming out of the tap?

Follow Your Cravings

One of my many fortunate attributes is that my cravings seldom lead me wrong -- never, in fact.  When I crave dairy, particularly cheese, it's because that's just what my body needed, and I give it to my body.  I'll often crave seafood, or dark green leafy things like kale or spinach, or pine nuts or walnuts, depending.  I'm very aware of precisely what is perfect nutrition for my body at exactly the moment I need.  (It is always to be hoped that I half enough brass in pocket to pull it off.)  I can point to the fact that at 36, despite an aversion to skulking around gyms and -- my God! -- exerting myself, my cholesterol, blood pressure, blood sugar, heart and brain, etc., are all in far better shape than those of most of my peers.  I still look good enough to fuck with the lights on, and am more productive and disciplined and well-adjusted than I've ever been.

So when I say I need a chocolate, chocolate chip cookie from Hot Cookie, the most accurate diction is "need," not "want."  Don't fucking argue with me about carbs or sugar.  I fucking well know what I'm doing, and I don't need any backtalk about a body that isn't yours.

But thank you sweetly as ever for your most unselfish concern.  Much obliged.

Hive Mind

T̖̕o̼̝͈̜͈͇ͅ ͇̪̝i̗͙̘n̘͕͔vo̸͈͓̦̪ķ̤͚̥͎͔͇ȩ̹͇̟ ̻̞͇͕̗͚̹t͕̻̱̱h̖͎̮̼̟̳͈e̡̟̞͉͍̣̤ ͇̰h̞̠̫̬i̶̖̟̟̯̟͇v͎e̲-͔͈͍̠͠m̘͉̳̝̥į̬͙̝̥̘̟n͓̜̺̺̞d̫̩̩̲͘ ̰͎̼r̝͔̫̻ͅe͖͈͉͞ͅp̱̼r͖̰̤͎̖ẹ̬̻͙̻͖s̲̱̲̮̖͍e̦͕n͢t͙̘i̧̞̯̻̬̣̥n͎͉g͙͉̬̗͖̮̜ ̞̩̗͎͙̮͔͟c͉̬̰ha̴͍o̲̹̲̼̱s̳̦͔̖.҉̹̪̱̘̦̥̹
͍̺͉̘̯̱I̪͚͎̠͢n̮̻͍v̸̦̤͕̦̮̘ͅo͞k̺̘͔͍̭͔̹i̼̯͍̦͖ņ̭̳̰͍̪̯g͘ ͖ț͇͉h̯͙̯͕̘͎e̛̦͎͚̤ ͇̥̲͎̻̮͞f̨̠͚̬̟̭͙ͅe̴̪̳̫̪̹̣el̩͖̟̞͞i̷̻̫̰̪̭ṇ̙̼ͅg̨̟̤ ̧̖of̩̱ ̙̺ͅc̳̤̺̠̝ͅh͈ao̰̯̜̟͚͉s҉̪̳̱.͓̙̗͉̥̳̜͝
̤͇̼̟̭ͅW̡̤̝̖̗̪̱i͕͈̲͕̩̟̞t͔̞̼̠ḫ̢̯ ̪̫͎̞̹o̮̯̱͔u̹t̲ͅ o̙̼͇͍̙̱r̹̜̮̺͉͕̼d̻͓̖͍e͏̝̼̲̠̘r̡.̺
͈̩T͓̹̳̰̣̟̤́ḩ̗͚͇̯̺̬ͅe̛͎͕̜̱ ̺̭̬͇ͅN҉̥e̞̳̘̯͕͡z̺̜͍͢p͏er̻d̨̹̭̰̮i̼̺̩̰̯͠a̫͓n͓̦̖̞̻̦͍͞ ̲hi̸̜͙v̵̲̖̗̪̗ẹ̡̟͚͔-͚͔͚̞m̧̼͔̘̮͍i̦n̴̖̱̖̬d̨̰̠ ̮̼̹͖͓͖͝ò̱̭f̱͙͍̰ ͔͖̬̟̬͔̫c̳h͙̦̺a̻̙͉͚̤̘̥o͎͚̮͕͘ͅs҉̙̯͕̼͎ͅ.̻̺̙̖͟ ̡͚͎Z̖̺a͎ĺ͔̯͓̰g̮̳̯ó̩̟̱͓̠.̶̻͙̦ ̞
̝̟̞͍̲̗H̭̞͎͇͚̫͞e̸͓ͅ ̰͔̳w̲͖̙̫̻̰̘h̗͙͍̙o̗̥͎̩ ̪̼̫͕̜͘ͅW͓̲͔a̝̯͓̟͡i͍t̸̳̻s̤̪͞ ̩͔̳B̧͎̜̼e͙̺͎͘h͎͉͍̣̙̫͙i̠͈͉nd̦̼̪̪̪ ̩̫͈̘ͅT̥͎͓͚̤͝h̡͈̞͈̻e̘̟̪ ͈͉̜̺̥̻͝Wa̟̝̫̯̹̭l̵l̝̣͕͎̩̺̳.̤͙̙
̩̗̜̪̟̟Z̡͖̦̺̜Ą̫̮̫̫L̮̬̞̝͖̞̠G͍̼̦͔̳͉̰O̡̳̫̺!̢͈

To My Fellas (And My Possibly More Than Several Double X Chromosomes...)

Hi, welcome, and thanks for reading.

I'm really shocked that I have as many hits as I do.  Rarely any comments, but lots of page views for what this is.  (And I don't promote it on anything other than Facebook.)  This started as a personal and general interest blog.  Unlike my former blog, Freedom Camp, a smart-mouth super-earnest NorCal liberal "Fuck you!" to the Bush Administration -- the blog received few hits but caused me oh-so-much-trouble in recent years -- unlike Freedom Camp, this is just a place to vent and be me.  I'm really not pushing much of an agenda (although in Robots vs. Reptile Men vs. Goddesses, I definitely fight for the Goddesses...), I'm just acting like the bright weirdo my friends and family all adore and usually aren't exasperated by.  It's my story.

This is important because my whole life has been spent listening to other people, acting as repository and sounding board.  It is a unique way to be with people, and can sometimes be very stressful.  But I'll tell you a perk:  discerning people always like to pick people like me out of a crowd and they always listen to me when it's about something important.  That's pretty cool.

So anyway, while I'm still concerned about cutting through bullshit, on this blog I try to stick to sorting out my own bullshit.  I don't know how it turned out interesting, but it did, and I just want to once again say thank you all for reading.  Keep checking in.  It gets "funner."

Any Guesses What I Am?

Hints:  Mesomorph, plenty of junk in the trunk.  Big eyes, full lips.  Inclined not to pry, but everyone spills their guts to me anyway.  Well liked by most everyone except, well, they know who they are.  Children and animals attracted to me.  Rather passive, not prone to anger.  Lazy, gluttonous, lustful.  Am potentially more destructive and toxic than anyone else you know in personal relationships, but have a small social circle of intensely loyal, long-term friends.  Sociable, but not an attention whore.  Insufferable and obnoxious to myself, and to certain others who, well, again, they might know who they are -- considered extremely sweet and good by most others, and welcomed and wanted around by them.  Gratification schemes usually focus on sex, sensual comforts, food, and music.  Absolute poison to sadists, violent psychopaths.  Glancingly fascinating to or ignored by most sociopaths.  Tend to internalize abuse.  Physical pain is richly and acutely felt, but emotional pain is more traumatic and long-lasting.  Can cope with own physical injury, squeamish about those of others.  Pleasure-seeking.  Highly observant.  Diffucult to control, but inclined to get walked all over.  Emotionally sensitive and intelligent, with good realization skills, but congenitally incapable of manipulation, scheming, calculation or cunning.  Outsized conscience, small ego.  Capacity for self-destructiveness enormous, intensely averse to harming others.  Hint:  I'm actually a variety of psychopath.

I Am Siamese If You Don't Please

 

Oh, god, reminiscence.  全然見逃しちゃ駄目.  This is, however, what the holidays are for, of course.  I do not turn to the heavens for a charting of my stars so that I may understand my place in the universe.  Nothing so gauche.  Rather, I, like my Viking ancestors, recount tales of times passed, from childhoods best forgotten.

I look to the fact that now I am the proud, somewhat lackadaisackal owner of a Siamese cat.  She is utterly infatuated with me, and refuses to withdraw her claws.  I do my best to spoil her, as city "friends" are wont to do with their charges -- she has catnip infused balls, the little mouse-at-the-end-of-the-rubber-string-tied-to-a-stick toy (which occupies five minutes every day), a cruel-looking wire brush she adores to the point of sexual frisson, Taste of the Wild (kibble and soft food), an ever-clean shithouse -- but I am hopeless.  She cannot bear to let me go every morning, but I find myself emotionally rather indifferent to her.  She's more like a dog on me than a cat.

Times were once different.  In Richmond, California, on the corner of 38th and Roosevelt, there stood a tiny, canary-yellow bungalow.  Behind that bungalow lay a square of patio.  In the corner of that patio, the one between the sliding glass door of the kitchen and the back garage door, I huddled frantic and panicked, screaming and in pain, all of three years old.  I was the prey of rapacious Bat-Cat, a fiend from hell with blue eyes, grey nose and paws and tail, and a raging jealousy of the attention lavished upon me by my mother.  Bat-Cat, who would regularly steal food from my father's plate and hang upside down on the screen outside while my dad fried chicken.  Bat-Cat, who once gave my mother a black eye she was too embarrassed to say wasn't given by my father.

You would think Bat-Cat would have secured me as highly phobic of felines.  Rather, I've had cordial and warm-hearted relationships with all the cats and dogs in my life, save for one or two meth-addict-owned Pomeranians.  To the point where, I am now the semi-reluctant ward of my own Siamese cat, an emotionally needy, abusive twat who can count Bat-Cat as her proud forbear.

Tell me again how this world is supposed to make sense.

Belief System

I believe that if a thing is beautiful and valuable, anyone who wants it should be able to have it.  I believe the default, basic amount of pain that automatically comes with being human is enough to earn what's worth having.  I believe in the inherent good of humanity.  I believe it is easier to be good than to be bad.  I believe in continuing to take people at face value and giving them the benefit of the doubt, no matter how many times or how awfully I've been screwed over.  I believe I should take only what's offered, and give when asked.  I believe I should criticize and celebrate what I am, and pride myself in what I've done.  I believe I owe it to my fellow humans to live as well and for as long as possible.  I believe the four ingredients I need for a happy life are good food, good music, sex, and family.  I believe kindness is not an obligation; it is an inclination.  I believe in original virtue, not just original sin.  I believe in science and magic.  I believe compassion is a mark of true genius, and gentleness, an indicator of true strength.  I believe all living beings are interconnected.  I believe we are our own worst enemies.  I believe in falling in love.

Imaginary Frienemies

Palimpsest.  Secretly famous.  Too beloved.  Loser.  Ice queen for the sadist.  Addict in a box.  Local boy dismembered by carpetbaggers.  Recipient of charity.  Hollow man.  Supremely evil.  Too good for this world.  Cries for those better off.  On the list.  Workman's comp case waiting to happen.  Flake.  Reliably dead.  Resident evil.  Ancient angel.  "You look like fucking Jesus Christ when they do this shit to you."  Taste his mind.  Beautiful music.  Delusional.  Hallucinatory.  Psychedelic motherfucker.  Capital punishment.  Camera or firing squad, or both?  Deep shit.  Psychic and psychotic.  Sugarcoat the truth.  Hormonal reactions indicate divorce from sensation.  Reality?

P.S.  RENO FUCKING SCREAMER, Y'ALL.