Return

Interestingly, I was unable to find this blog shortly after I created it. I just now stumbled upon it while checking out the possibility of creating a new blog! Weird...but then, computers and I never did have a good relationship.

So, welcome back to me, I guess.

I should have renamed this blog. It turns out that there is some kind of band or something with the same name. That's why I couldn't find it again after I created it—I just kept coming up with websites for someone else. I gave up, figuring that the electronosphere simply swallowed my blog whole.

I'm still working for the company that snoops into our private virtual lives, so I'm still not free to use my actual name here. That sucks.

I just got back from a vacation that, while it could have gone better, was still better than the life I lead at home. Vacations always remind me, in no uncertain terms, that I need to turn my life around while have life left to change. I'm late middle age, so I don't have a lot of time for big changes, and it's flat out too late for some.

What I want seems so simple and so cheap, and yet it it is so very far out there that I question whether it is attainable at all. I don't want material riches—what would I do with an excess of expensive material goods, given that I have no personal vanity, no desire for luxury, and no need to impress anyone? I don't need to be on the hunt for a romantic relationship—such relationships get in the way of the things I want to do and that I find more important, and I am way past the physical needs stuff. What little thoughts I have about attaining personal power are all wrapped up in the idea that I could use that power to fight effectively for the environment, education, social justice, and all those other liberal ideas that too many people find repellent.

What I want is a small self-sufficiency farm with enough income to get the goods that I cannot produce myself. I want to be free to work on my art. I want to live green and off the grid, in harmony with nature as a good steward. I want my lifestyle to be a model of how people can live well without excess and without brutalizing the world.

The only thing keeping me from that is the money to buy a piece of arable land.

Money, and not even very much of it. But, working where I do, living the life I have to live to keep that job and a roof over my head, dealing with the economy that we have, I can't save anything toward that piece of land. I can't even keep my basic bills paid on time, much less pay off old debts that ruin my credit rating. I'm stuck. Stuck, like so many other people.

Hell, I would be happier if I could just work in a job that didn't make me feel like crap every time I walk through the door of my work place. I don't mind the tasks that I do there, but I hate the company and everything that is wrong in our society that it stands for. I'm not afraid to work. If I were, would want to be a farmer, probably one of the toughest jobs in existence? A job that made me feel good to get out of bed everyday, doing something that I enjoy and am innately good at, working for a cause that I believe in—that's what I would like to have as employment. At one time, that would have been teaching, and in principle I would still enjoy that. However, after doing some volunteer work at a school and working as a tutor, I found that I don't get along well with little kids or teenagers. Not enough patience. To teach college adults, I would have to go back to school myself and earn a higher degree than the one I have. I'm already in debt with school loans that I will never live long enough to pay off, so that door is closed.

I don't know what to do. I see my self simply living a miserable life for the next 15 or 20 years until my organs, like my teeth, give up.

Getting Your Ya-Yas Out

Getting Your Ya-Yas Out

Danger. Thrills. Adrenaline. Personal Challenge. Primitive Drives. Psychopathy. Sociopathy. Fast, hazardous, muscular vehicles and their enthusiasts. Said enthusiasts who don't give a thought to the costs incurred to others by their hobbies. Rather, they think that, because they live in America, they have a right (yes, a right) to tear up the landscape, destroy and terrorize wildlife, obliterate the peace and serenity of other people, waste rapidly declining resources, pollute the air with dust, hydrocarbons and noise, and create general mayhem—all for the sake of a thrill. This applies to pros who drive in endless circles, as well as weekend vehicular warriors who careen recklessly across hill and dale, and those who operate mechanical muscle on city streets. There is nothing so jarring and disheartening as being out in the woods, enjoying the sound of wind in the trees, bird song, and the splash of a stream, only to have those soul-calming sounds suddenly drowned by the rip of a trail bike, the crash and roar of a large 4-wheeler, or the whine of a snow mobile. How about trying to sleep, with work looming a few hours hence, as some loud car jockey races up and down your street? Where I live, my peace is also disturbed by the constant background drone of the racetrack situated a mile and a half away. It's not just about noise. Forest undergrowth crushed beneath fat tires, delicate desert soils permanently scarred by "donuts," meadows crisscrossed by aimless vehicle tracks—all of these are like open wounds. Joy riders speeding down streets populated by pedestrians and pets leave a trail of carnage in their wake. Places where wildlife should be abundant are virtually deserted because of persistent off-road vehicle use. Then there's the stink of exhaust hanging in the air where the only scents should be of water, soil, and flowers. What kind of psychology is at work here? What is it that compels such enthusiasts to seek out destruction and disturbance? And what kind of people are their non-participatory fans who like to watch such activities, pay money to support them, and buy fan crap? What did people do for thrills before the invention of the internal combustion engine? Switching to second person, I want now to speak directly to those enthusiasts and their vicarious-thrill fans. Danger. Those of you who seek this out relish the feelings of controlled fear that flying around a track or over a sand dune at high speeds provide you. There are other ways to experience that sensation that are far less destructive to the environment and to the peace of others. Bungee jumping and base jumping are two that come immediately to mind. Or maybe there's not enough control in those activities, since there are no steering wheels, brakes, nor accelerators used. Well, why not swim in shark-infested waters? Where you swim, what you do, and how you react are certainly under your control, and there is a clearly heightened element of danger that should make you deliciously fearful. High-speed downhill skiing is another scary-but-fun thing to do. Note: I'm not being sarcastic here—these are sincere suggestions for people who want to experience the titillation of controlled fear in a recreational setting. Thrills. Related to danger-seeking, but without so much of the fear. There are all kinds of ways to feel thrilled. Intellectual pursuits, emotional adventures, even a simple sense of wonder can all elicit the feelings of excitement that we associate with "thrills." If that is what you look for, open your mind to new knowledge, have a love affair, observe something amazing—or even just take a roller coaster ride at the board walk. Set out on an adventure, going someplace that you would never have gone before, to do something that you would never have done, but doing so without resorting to the cheap thrill of fast speeds, loud noise, and powerful engines. Adrenaline. As in "Rush." Purely physical, this one, and more of a drug addiction than a real emotional or psychological pursuit. Just as short-lived a sensation, too. Best advice? Kick the addiction altogether, then you wouldn't need the off-road or racetrack high. Personal Challenge. I'm not sure what makes stomping on an accelerator and twisting a steering wheel a personal challenge. It seems like it's more of a challenge to the vehicle. A personal challenge should test your own body and mind directly. Isn't it harder to get on a mountain bike and haul yourself up that steep grade under your own muscle power than to take the same hill behind a powerful engine? And isn't it a greater test of your nerve and skill to maneuver that same bicycle down the other side, knowing that a miscalculation on your part could end in serious disaster? For other physical challenges there's the arduous training and discipline required to run a marathon. Or how about purely mental challenges, such as tackling a problem or body of knowledge that pushes your mind to its limits? There's also the difficult task of curing yourself of that phobia you've been carrying on your back—and almost everybody has one of those. There's always the Peace Corps, or any number of other aide agencies which will provide with you with plenty of challenges. Need something bigger? Try making a sea change in your life—that takes a lot of guts which most of us don't possess, but that perhaps you do. But, if you need simple speed and momentary exhilaration in the outdoors, there's always activities like shooting rapids in a kayak, where you create no more damage or disturbance than would a floating tree limb. There are millions of ways to challenge yourself—and none of them require gasoline. Primitive Drives. There's a body of psychological and anthropological research which suggests that the risky recreational behaviors that we indulge in—behaviors seen largely in males, by the way—are a response to 2 million years of evolutionary imperatives boxed in by modern civilized structures which have removed the daily risks to life and limb faced by our ancestors. Our older brain structures haven't caught up with our culture. We are no longer routinely hunted by large predators—we've become too well protected, and have pretty much eliminated big predators from our immediate environment. We no longer have to take down large prey using nothing but our wits, courage, and a spear—we have grocery stores, specialists who raise docile domesticated prey for us, and for those who still hunt we have invented powerful, long-range weapons called guns. We no longer have to personally defend our families and goats from marauding predators and neighbors—as noted, predators are no longer much of a problem, and we have armies and police to reduce direct threats from the neighbors. We no longer have to travel miles on foot everyday in order to gather vegetable foods—again, we have specialists who grow domesticated plants for our consumption, so that we can confine our gathering tasks to a few aisles in the grocery store. Water is brought to our homes, sparing us the necessity of finding and fetching it ourselves everyday. Shoot, we don't even have to worry much about death and maiming through misadventure—a sidewalk is hardly rough-ground walking, stairs are certainly safer than a narrow game trail along a ridge face, bridges have made river-fording unnecessary, and we have very little reason to climb trees. And we certainly don't have to keep moving from place to place in an effort to find resources for food, water and shelter as we once had to do. The only thing we have left is competition, so we compete in insane ways that do harm—in business, in relationships, in consumerism, and for the purposes of this article, on the racetrack, streets and trails. There are less harmful ways to compete against others, better ways to win kudos. If you want a race, use a bicycle and train yourself for the Tour de France. Now we turn to Psychopathy and Sociopathy. There has got to be something psychologically wrong with you. If you were to undergo testing, how likely is it that the test would reveal the lack of empathy and the emotional flattening that characterizes the psychopath? Would a sit-down with a counselor reveal the social disconnect, antisocial behavior, and lack of conscience seen in sociopaths? Certainly, someone with healthy emotional capabilities, a well-developed sense of empathy, a strong conscience, and stable social mores would not feel inclined to engage in the destructive behaviors that characterize the thrill-seeking vehicle enthusiast. Please note that ripping up the landscape, bashing up your competitor’s heap in a monster-truck competition, and screaming down city streets (stereo blaring) are all forms of violence…every bit as violent, in fact, as a street brawl. If you weren’t recreating in this way, would you instead be beating the crap out of your significant other? kicking your dog? vandalizing your neighbor’s property? Is it perhaps time that you took at a hard look at your motivation for engaging in recreational vehicular mayhem, and find out why you need to entertain yourself in this way? Once your motivations are revealed, wouldn’t it then be a good idea to fix the problem, and put your energies into things that can be just as thrilling, just as fun, just as risky, but that serve more benevolent, personally fulfilling, and socially enhancing purposes? Right now, hundreds of thousands of people all over the globe are risking life, limb and freedom in protest, fighting the good fight to create more just societies for themselves and their posterity. These people have real courage. Why not take your risk-seeking needs to those streets, and step up to join them in the good fight? Now, there’s a real challenge for you.

First actual blog...with request for reader patience

So, this blog layout is about as plain as things can get. I will work on its appearance and features as I go, but for now I just want to test the waters on this whole blogging thing.

To be honest, I don't much trust the internet. While the anonymity is comforting, the thought that all eyes can pry in such a public forum is unnerving. However, it does give a person a chance at public expression that might be unavailable to them through print publishing.

To show you just how much I distrust the internet, let me be up front in stating that my blog name is not my real name. It is the first letters of a statement: To Prevent Termination (from my job) I Must Remain Anonymous.

Pretty sad, right?

I work for a large corporation which, not too long ago, intimated that they pay attention to things like Face Book and other social networks. Since I have very little good to say about my employers—but must hang on to my job in order to survive—I thought it best not to splash my real name around on this blog. The pseudonym is just another layer of precaution, especially given the relatively small size of my community.

Believe me, I would love to be able to own up to everything I say here—but I can't afford to lose my job.

I wonder: Are there others who blog and use social networks who feel as I do? or am I just being paranoid?

So, be patient with me. I'll likely be cautious and cryptic at times, though I'll try not to frustrate you. I must apologize in advance, too, for having such a featureless, boring blog layout. I'm not that savvy with computers, so it will take a while before I build this site into something really cool.