The Problem; Also a Meta Problem Too

So why the endless thinking? The endless avenues of abstraction? Why is it so exhausting to make a simple choice that is based on an authentic conviction? In short, it is a loss of streamlined social thought.

We have too many egos zig zagging away from a coherent standard of thought. This itself is a product of the processes of capitalist thought. The market has become a free fire zone where the loudest persuader corrals the largest amount of interest, thereby gaining power. And so each persuader is in vicious competition with one another, ruthlessly dragging whole social groups this way and that, desperately vying for more influence and thus more material wealth and well being.

What these individuals don't understand is the efficacy of their own effects on the human organism. As each fights to win over the hearts of millions, they alter the herd. Sometimes in subtle ways, sometimes not so much. As these effects accumulate, we become more and more fragmented; more and more schizophrenic, so that in the end result we are each an idiosyncratic mosaic of influences, influences that differ from person to person according to what attracts us most. We are completely out of sync with each other in terms of a larger, coordinated social function.

We have to struggle to understand because there are so many choices. More choices than we can physically cope with. These choices are abundant because our dominant social paradigm has seen to it that we separate each idea from its original environmental housing.

As a mode of thought, capitalism involves a process of extracting an idea from a raw source, and then packaging that idea to be multiplied and distributed to receptive agents for pay. So our society is based upon a market where selfish individuals move through the world, extracting ideas and selling them for profit. This has been devastating.

This process must be reversed.

But dammit, this post seems to me to be a mess. The message itself is shattered to pieces. Could be too much wine. Could be lifting too much weight. Could be a number of things. Articulating The Problem is itself made incredibly difficult by The Problem.

Or I'm just making it all too difficult. Ah well. Rest on it.

Ideas and Flaws

We are all flawed to a certain extent. The trick is to see the flaw not as a deficiency, but merely as a feature that reflects the light in a different direction.

With this concept in mind, we can argue that beauty manifests not as a faceless monolith, but as a unification of diverse elements; namely, the reconciliation of diverted light.

This idea is itself incomplete, or flawed. The chief reason for its giving me pleasure is its propensity to be completed in the future. It seems that many times putting the last piece in place is more pleasurable than actually beholding the finished product.

It feels good to sit back and reflect with a clear mind again. Today was a long day.

The day before, I burned my hand with boiling water, so I took some Vicodin. I guess it was too old, or too potent, maybe a combination of the two. But the next day, I was sick as hell. Now I can begin to understand the meaning of "dope sick." It is truly a horrific thing. A hellish place to be. And I imagine many cases are a hundred times worse.

Note to self: try not to try heroin.

Um

Within two days of visiting Gamespot I was treated to two fully themed advertisements: one for the US Airforce, which was shamelessly presenting its Reaper drone program as some sort of video game and one for Exxon Mobile.

And this isn't Gamespot just selling out. This is Gamespot acting as a conduit for two of the true malevolent forces of our time.

I get this picture of these massive carnivorous robots stomping around and literally just picking up people and tossing them into their flaming maws.

Rubberneck

There was a headline on an internet news site I passed...Video: Woman gets fingers caught in a shredder. Strange. Who's attracted to these things?

On that same note, my mom watches Celebrity Rehab, and my brother watches Cops, and when I tried to express my displeasure at this, they defended themselves and claimed it was just entertainment and that it was actually very interesting. But that's just the thing.

Well, they can't help themselves if they are drawn to that sort of stimulation. Many people are. They will construct arguments to justify that subconscious fact just as readily as I can construct an argument to justify my own aversion. Is it a subconscious tendency that is on a large scale an agent of societal disintegration? Or is it really just entertaining and maybe even useful as a glimpse into the workings (or failures for that matter) of our society. I must take note that the only reason I am at such a tense point of mediation between the two possibilities is because 1.) I have a strong emotional aversion to that sort of outlet and 2.) I have loved ones that are drawn to it, thereby providing two very strong opposing emotions of perhaps equal force. Our emotions have quite a say in our convictions don't they?

To go with my own interpretation, I would say that that is a form of entertainment that trivializes and thus dehumanizes particular forms of human suffering, which starves our own faculties of compassion.

What about a call to action at the end of the show? How about a reminder that yes, these are real people that are going through profoundly painful experiences and how about we look into figuring out how and why this is happening. But no, nothing of the sort. How many people would just sign off after that guilt flood? There's no money there.

Just imagine, you're a star that was once burning true, whether dimly or brightly, and suddenly you are on your decline, hurtling into deep space where you are to fizz out. And the cold, mechanical eye of television is watching your fall, documenting it for millions behind the lens, themselves slouching in front of a glowing screen wearing smirks of amusement.

Maybe some of them cry for you. But what then?

Let me get off my high horse to be more clear. I am one of the crippled. I myself have grown up on these forms of amusement. I feel myself studying this suffering with a touch of abstraction, comfortable in this endlessly conformed suburban colony, shaking my fist and shouting impotently, "someone must do something!" But what? I am comfortable. And I am afraid of suffering myself. I feel vaguely that I have been wronged, but still sit. Passive.

I hope for my sake that part of the action is the thought.