Wednesday, March 6, 2024

Echo chamber

This morning I had a Skype call with Marie. She had been out of contact for five days. When we started the call she was troubled. By the end of the call she said I had cheered her up. So far, so good, I guess.

But God in heaven, what an unsatisfactory call!

Saturday, March 2, 2024

Am I become Death?

Back on New Year's Day, I did a Tarot reading for myself for the year. Much of what it told me was unexceptional. My immediate situation was pegged as waiting (8 Wands reversed), exacerbated by indecision (2 Swords). The basis of my situation is that I'm acting like a scholar (Page of Pentacles) by thinking and writing, both here and in my professional blog under my real name. And so on.

Now my Self card was Death. At the time, I read this as advice that I would see major changes in my Self this year, because I have always read that card as "major change." But I wonder if there might not be more going on?

Over on the Patio I just finished a pair of articles which propose that humans thrive best under conditions of adversity, scarcity, and conflict—not peace and plenty. (You can find the first one here, and the second one here.) And last night, after I finished writing and posting the second article, I started to think about it with respect to my own situation. I have enough to eat and drink, and a roof over my head, all without working. I live alone, so I don't have to fight with anyone over the breakfast table. For the most part, except for some writing once or twice a week, there's nothing special that I need to do.

When John B. Calhoun subjected a population of rats to those exact same conditions, the rats died.

And so I began to wonder, Does the Death card have a double meaning for me right now? Yes, of course it generally means "major change." And of course anyone learning the Tarot is always warned not to read it as death simply and straight-up, because that will terrify the person you are reading for. But I start to think that maybe it means something a little more complex, something like this:

Thursday, February 22, 2024

What games did I play as a child? part 3

This post follows on from two that are nearly ten years old, here and here. There's no sense in which it is important. In fact, it would probably never have occurred to me to write it at all if I hadn't drunk an entire bottle of cheap wine with dinner.  But that can send your mind down interesting byways.

Ten years ago I explained that Dale and I used to make up pretend countries. In principle these were micronations, though I hadn't learned the term yet. It was silly, but fun. Back when I wrote about this before, I fit this game into an understanding of my adult life by saying "(Making up useless systems. Check.)"

But there was another side to it that was odd. Sometimes several of us would all join a single country, and then we would debate what its political structure ought to be. My experience of this is that usually I was outvoted. I'd have some idea that I thought was really cool, and I could never persuade other people that it was nearly as cool as I found it. So far, this is pretty consistent with my self-understanding later in life. (See all my discussions of Sister Failure, for example.)

The weird part—the part that contrasts with my adult self-understanding—is that even when I was totally incapable of convincing anyone else to vote for any of my ideas about how this or that micronation ought to be organized, I was usually elected President anyway. At the time, this seemed normal and I never thought about it. Today, in retrospect, it is a great puzzle.

Marie, after meeting Son 1 and Son 2, has started to talk about a phenomenon she calls "the Tanatu charisma." This is the same whatever-it-is phenomenon that makes it impossible for me to blend into the wallpaper even when I try my damnedest. Maybe that's what this game displayed … already at work, long before I was old enough even for college.  

                

Sunday, February 4, 2024

Intoxicology

I woke up yesterday morning with a hangover, rolled over, and went back to sleep. Later in the morning I finally dragged myself out of bed and puttered through a whole list of errands all day. Because I was away from home until late afternoon, I managed to avoid my midday nap (which I seem to need most days). Finally had something to eat about 5pm. (Dinner? Breakfast? Both?) Dessert at 7:30. Read for a while, dithered on the Internet, and went to bed a little after 10:00. I drank no alcohol last night.

This morning? No hangover. (Well, duh.) And I was able to get up earlier. (Yeah, not staying up till after midnight will do that.) We'll see whether I need the midday nap, but so far the signs are hopeful.

I want to watch the nap, as a marker. I had gotten to the point where I pretty much had to have one every day, where my head would be foggy and in low-levels of dull pain until after my nap. This was regardless how much coffee I had in the morning. Not until yesterday did it occur to me that this might be connected to whatever I'd had to drink the night before. So it will be an interesting experiment to see if cutting out the alcohol for a few days also cuts out the need for a nap. If so, that would be a pretty clear indicator of causality.

On the other hand, I also notice that the amount I drank the night before last would have counted as a pretty normal amount for much of the last year. Normally I don't expect to reach for the Tylenol until I've had half again that much … or twice that much. Maybe I'm getting old. Or maybe the stuff is actually toxic. That's the root of the word intoxicate, after all.

Things to notice.

          

Tuesday, January 30, 2024

The unbearable weight of being Stagg R. Leigh

I guess I'm I glad I'll never hit the big time.

A couple nights ago, I went out to see "American Fiction." Incidentally, it's a great movie, and one that works on many levels. If you haven't seen it yet, go see it now.

But in particular, I was emailing with Marie earlier this evening. I mentioned the movie and told her I'd liked it. She went online and found a trailer, and said it looks like "The Producers." I replied that it is nothing at all like "The Producers." (Not to say anything against "The Producers"! It's the funniest movie ever made. But "American Fiction" breathes a whole different air.)

So I started to think to myself, What do I like about it so much?


Fair warning: In what follows there are likely to be SPOILERS! So don't read any farther unless you have already seen the movie or just don't care.

Monday, January 29, 2024

Freedom is overrated

Freedom is overrated.

I guess I've talked about this before, not always in those words. I find only two places where I have said literally this: here in 2010, and here in 2023. But my post here, arguing that freedom is failure, comes pretty close to saying the same thing.

I first figured it out by watching Father. Back when he owned our family business he had a terrible time of it: I talk about that some here and here, and probably in other places too. At the time, I thought he was being imprisoned by the business; and it was plainly killing him. When he finally sold it, I thought, Now at last he'll be able to do all those things he has wanted to do for so long!

But he didn't. He'd start one project, and then he'd start another, and then he'd email crazy conspiracy theories with his old Army buddies, and then he'd stay up to watch the Late Show, and then … on and on and on. [I have no idea how far he got on any of these projects, but Mother would like me to find out.] But he never got anything actually Done, because he didn't Have To. He was free—as free as anyone I've ever known.

It didn't make him happy. Not having to go out and see people on a regular basis just made him sour and solitary. (He died in 2015, but compare also this post, just for example.)

I worried that could happen to me when my job ended, if I didn't get a regular full-time job to replace it. And, … well, you know, … it's hard to say I was wrong. Just in the last year I talk about that here (after coming home from Scotland) and here (after coming home from France and then Thanksgiving).

Ironically, there's even an argument that this is true of political freedom as well. A few days ago, I posted this over on the Patio, explaining the argument that the best regimes in the world are places like Niger, Uganda, and Angola—none of them "free countries" by any normal metric

It's funny. We feel a natural irritation when someone tells us what to do. Who do they think they are? I'll decide what I want to do! But when we have that freedom—well, for some of us, at any rate, it doesn't make us happy. I bet that's true for many of us. It's probably true of me, not that I'm about to surrender my freedom. It's easier to surrender my happiness.

Freedom is overrated.   

          

Sunday, January 28, 2024

Did I need to hear this?

It's late at night. I've been drinking too much. I should be in bed. So I clicked on a recent clip on YouTube from Bill Maher.

And this is me. It's totally me. So is this going to kill me? Do I need to worry about it? Was this just some random video, or do I need to take it seriously?

Inquiring minds want to know ….