Sunday, April 10, 2011

Thoughts for the day.

In the immortal words of John Lennon-
Half of what I say is meaningless; but I say it just to reach you.
And that is for you my dearest reader(s). As the winds tear across the desert, whipping sand and chapping lips, I have become contemplative. Sadly, my mind can only reach focus for what seems like only a microsecond. It seems as if my brain is too tired to churn up anything interesting- much less present you with any creative material. I haven't felt like playing guitar, talking to friends, riding my bike, or studying. I feel like rationalizing. And as I sit here, listening to the harmonica solo in The Beatles' "Little Child" I can't help but try and make understanding of the world around me.

Last night I had a friend over, and was once again reminded about the varieties of human experience. I believe that in daily life we take for granted the complexities of human relationships; whether they be human-human, human- nature, or human-thought/beliefs. I wanted to become a psychologist because I wanted a firmer understanding of behavior, thought, and the underlying processes of those dyadic interactions. I wanted to understand how we process the world; yet I now wonder if the world we exist in is unprocessable? (I am 99.8% confident that I made that word up.)

Take a look around, what do you see? Do you see the workings of a finely tuned universe, whirling harmoniously and glorifying its' own necessity in creation? If so, how I envy your naiveté. This thought is antiquated- stuck between the realm of ignorance and make-believe. We do not live in the best of all possible worlds, we live in a universe in which there is no direct cosmic predetermination, and the human condition is purely a result of our own doing. We do not owe our triumphs and failures to gods on mountaintops; the course of our lives are not divinely shaped.

We live in a mad universe that is much too queer for any individual to completely comprehend. The vastness, the intricacies, and the subtleties lead cautious men to yield pursuit of knowledge for mere assertion of creation. Yet we do not live in cautious times, the moments we live in are imperative.

Staring into to the abysmal universe and surrendering all false notion is a noble task. To simply turn your back on this great wonder and dismiss it as creation does a disservice, not only to the natural world, but to humankind itself.  Scientist painstakingly study every dark corner, firmly evacuating the demons and replacing them with beacons of light. Perhaps the most demon haunted realm exists not in the cosmos, but in our own mind.

To quote Bertrand Russell:

What we need is not the will to believe, but the will to find out.
What old Bertrand is talking about, is the underlying motivation for science. Through a scientific lens, humanity can better understand the intricacies that underly our existence. We can discover solutions to the very problems that undermine us. The idea that a benevolent God is watching and intervening strips all meaning off of our current situation. This gives us satisfaction with ignorance, and negates our motivation to understand and our push to become better.

From chaos, every living thing, every bit of matter, has sprung into existence and evolved. There is no cosmic dictator, no supreme judge that vanquishes evil. We assign our own meaning to life. To have a mind rely on a benevolent supreme being to explain every situation in the universe is to cede all will to explore the universe. To say that a supernatural being will return and 'fix' things is a surrender of all culpability in the matter.

My understanding is thus:

We are our own measures of judgement. There is no passing the buck. I see murder and rape and genocide. These are incompatible with the existence of a just and loving god, we are solely accountable for this. I see the height of human progress and the depths of human ignorance; one corresponds to Russell's will, and the other to the forfeit of thought in lieu of a deity. These are my thoughts, indeed.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

The Trophy Wife (to be) has something to say!

This is a guest post written by one of my lovely friends, enjoy, also note that names were redacted for privacy. VF= Vegetarian Friend, TF= Trophy Wife. Yes, they are eloped.

Now, onto less tuna related topics and onto more “exciting” things, such as Laundry.  As you may or may not know, I adore doing laundry—this will hopefully be the beginning and end of my domestic “to-do” list as Trophy Wife.  My favorite part is all the laundry accessories!  (you may think I'm joking here, but seriously, I'm not)  I have wash bags to extend the life of my clothing, three different laundry detergents for different types of clothing, bleach, fabric softener and of course bounce sheets (look at all that free advertising!).  This may seem excessive...and it is.  But, this is what really gets me going.  I told V.F.™ that a w/d was the only deal breaker in the scheme of searching for a place—that’s right, bitches, we’re living in sin before getting married—a bathroom was negotiable, laundry room was not.  

With all this background information, you can understand my horror (horror!!) when the crazy new landlord said that the washer water was used to water the plants in the yard (grey water) and I would be forced (forced!!) to buy biodegradable detergent and my days of using bleach and fabric softener were over.  Note here that I care a lot about water (like a crazy water nazi), but that's how much I care about my fabric softener!  I still am devastated.  There is nothing better than air-drying clothes (see?  I care about the environment!  Just in different ways) with the subtle scent of Downy filling the house.   

V.F.™ already uses that hippie shit, but I guarantee that it will in no way clean my clothes as well as Tide and Downy.  I might have to start going to a dreaded Laundromat just to clean my clothes the way I want to!  This new crazy landlord is cramping my style and now I’ll be all static-y in my not entirely clean clothes.  I fully intend to wash my clothes as much as possible while still at my old place, killing the environment one Downy cap-full at a time.    

I suppose I have bigger things to concern myself over at the moment.  You know, like research papers, work, planning the fucking wedding or ending world hunger. 

On a side note, if I truly want to be a Trophy Wife and not actually intelligent at all, I need to dumb down my understanding of the world and how society truly works.  You know, pretend I was raised a pageant queen or in North Carolina or something.  For now, though, I’ll just have to wave elbow-elbow-wrist-wrist my laundry accessories goodbye.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Will blog for money.

That is in fact what I am doing.

Your beloved narrator/ moral compass/ voice in your head, has been reduced to a statistic today. That's right, as of today, I no longer am a civil (indentured) servant. Say what you will about my work ethic; I know there will be slander enveloping all ensuing conversation.

"I heard he was fired, such a bad work ethic, lazy fuck."
"He was fired for  accidentally the whole office!"
"I heard he inserted PENIS into VAGINA. "
"What I heard was that there was serious internal ethical problems within his department. On various occasions he tried to blow a whistle but was diverted and told to keep silent; a true hero of his league." ***

***  One of these is (exaggeratedly) true. To put all false notions to rest; I was not fired. (Yes I was).

Now that all this is transparent, I would like to take some time to inform you, my beloved reader, about some things I have learned over the course of my federal employment.

*Spoiler alert- anecdotes ahead*

1. If you are a student employee with a federal agency, you have no rights or provisions to protect your employed state. It says so in the handbook and is made clear every day. They may fire you at any time, without warning, and without cause. The only protection you have is against discrimination based on gender (lol, as if they care), race, religion (but not lack thereof), et al.

2. I have learned that if you aren't happy- change that. This goes for all things, especially your employer. If you don't like it, opt out. I wish I would have fully understood this the first day at work. I knew this when I saw that there was literally a departmental club designed for a small group to dick around and label it 'team building.' Fuck. You. Guys. I am sorry that I wasn't a part of you ego- boosting clique because I wasn't 21 and couldn't go to bars.

When did I realize I wasn't comfortable in that setting?

- Maybe it was when a naked co worker, brandished with a broken wine glass, threw my end table out of my hotel room because I refused to sleep with her.

- Maybe it was when I realized that I was nothing more than a pawn, doing personal tasks for my bosses and having everyone throw their mundane work at me. But that's alright, I'm just the student. I don't work and attend school full time to earn a degree in something a little more complicated than faxing invoices and adding numbers. I'm sorry that all the math you glorified accountants needed was taught to you in elementary school.

- Maybe it was when I was alone, in the presence of an individual with known PTSD (amongst other psychosis) who drew a gun. Hey it's alright, I didn't report this. He's my friend, right? I was just trying to help the guy.

- Maybe it was when I had to administer first aide to my friend who went into a clonic seizure on two separate occasions while people just watched. I was helped by two other staff, and one other jackass who tried separating me  from my friend so he could 'pray the demons out'. I am not making this up.

-Maybe I was made uncomfortable by the innumerable times that I was made to feel incapable because of my sex, and most importantly, my age. Maybe it was also because I did not partake in your thinly veiled religious activity this winter. You know I am not religious. Why the hell did you decorate my cubicle with shit I hate?

This has been, yet another rant. Thanks to anyone who may have read this. If you have some work related B.S. to get off your chest, feel free to do so in the comments. Oh, and throw an extra five spot to the panhandler on the corner, it could be me. Peace y'all.


Friday, April 1, 2011

Cut out your uterus, ladies.

You won't need them anyway in our de facto theocracy, here in the US of A. Alongside Republicans' top priority of of compacting the government to 'git of our prawperty', we see this.

On December 23, 2010, Shuai, a 34-year-old pregnant woman who was suffering from a major depressive disorder, attempted to take her own life. Friends found her in time and persuaded her to get help. Six days later, Shuai underwent cesarean surgery and delivered a premature newborn girl who, tragically, died four days later. 
On March 14, 2011, Shuai was arrested, jailed, and charged with murder and attempted feticide.
Take a minute of your life to read that story. Understand what is really happening on a social level. Think about all the variables in god's precious equation that were manipulated to get this result. This lady needs treatment, and help. Not prosecution. Holy Desu. Why don't we just pass a law that sweeps all the feminists, brownies, niggers, and poor folk into into a vacuum. What's that? We don't need a law to do this because our society is already stratified, and pathetic? Yeah, you're right.

We blame poor people for their poverty; 'boot straps ain't lift they selves'.What happens when you aren't even provided the luxury of a boot? We blame and stigmatize women for having sex, then deny them access to any type of reproductive education or medical care. They deserve to be faced with murder charges, right? Because a woman with depression hasn't suffered enough and now needs to be faced with this, right?. How about we make it legal to kill a doctor who performs a medical procedure on a consenting woman. Republican legislation has been staunchly anti- women, anti- minorities. Their laws cannot be justified from a secular stand point.

I recently attended a monologue with my Monetarily Significant Other, Vegetarian Friend and his Trophy Wife (well, soon to be). I heard women speaking about their vaginas. Some were comical renditions of what their vagina would say or wear. Most, however, were the tales- explicit and raw- about the reality of what women are faced with. Something that few of us men are faced with daily, if ever.

I wonder what the depressed woman's monologue would sound like?

I cannot speak for this woman, but I can speak out against the system that produces such horrific circumstances. As a society we cannot play blame the victim anymore. This is savage. I guarantee, unless you have suffered from depression yourself or are a competent Psychologist, that you haven't a complete understanding of a depressed mind. Blaming someone for taking (or attempting to take) their own lives is as repulsive and ignorant as it can get. Furthermore it lends credence to the victim-blaming mentality that permeates our culture.

Be aware that there is active legislation that targets women . Couple that with our society's stigmatization of mental illness and you quickly realize the volatility of our frayed safety net.

/end rant