inherently different

Archive for March, 2009

Someone sent me a message via facebook about Jade Goody. My first thought was, “who the fuck is Jade Goody, and why should I give a rat’s ass?”

Then, upon further review and some internet detective work I realized my first reaction should have been, “Who gives a fuck?”

The thing about life is, no one gets out alive. Why should I give a shit if some two bit reality whore dies? Why do you all care? What the fuck happened to the planet that some piece of shit who prostitutes herself on TV for cash gets sympathy from complete strangers?

Thing is, death is inevitable. Whether it is because you ski your ass into a tree or die because you are genetically prone to abnormal cells or simply because your ass lives TOO long, you will die. So will I. So will the next person you talk to. There is nothing tragic about death. The real tragedy is that people glorify pieces of shit like Jade Goody who is famous simply because she was on a TV show about being a fame whore. Seriously, this type of attention given to a private citizen would warrant legal intervention for stalking.

Fuck her, fuck her miserable existence and the people who glorified it.

I think everyone has lived, at one time or another, under the misguided idea that they are special. That they were different than others and were destined for great things. It is a common fantasy when we are growing up… call it the “Harry Potter” syndrome. For women, it is the princess fantasy or worse, the “amelie” fantasy.

It kills me to think people are so fucking out of touch with their own self worth that they have to fantasize about a life that they will never have just to validate their existence. I mean, it is one thing to wish that you were interesting, but it is another thing all together to pretend outwardly that you are special.

The argument can be made that just by fantasizing about this alternate reality, you are just like every other pathetic cocksucker out there. As the saying goes, “yeah, you’re special… just like everyone else.”

When I was really young (5-8) though, I had a sneaking suspicion that I WAS different… but I didn’t go out and tell people, “I’m special! I am different than you!” It just reeks of low self opinion and even I, at that tender age knew that. Yet, at 43 I still run into grown ass adults who think they are special… the amelies, the princesses, the geniuses, the fame whores… I wonder what sort of early life experiences lead these people to crave attention or admiration so much, that they live their lives in a state of constant denial and fantasy.

Irony Alert: I realize simply by having a blog, there is a certain amout of hipocrisy going on here. While I admit that having a public forum with which to voice my opinions, I too crave certain amount of validation. But here is the difference, and it is subtle: The validation I crave is my own. Anyone else is just white noise. I know my worth and I know the price I pay to be the way I am. I really couldn’t care less what anyone else thinks about me.

I don’t really work to publicize this blog. The few people who read regularly are welcome friends who share common thoughts or traits… the random idiots who wander by, post once are the ones I am truly fascinated by.

Anyway, the reason why I am writing this is because I have been thinking a great deal lately about evolution. “What the fuck does evolution have to do with any of this?” you might ask. Well, here is the thing. Based on the opinions scientists, on average, evolutionary peaks happen every 50,000 years and paleontologist Stephen J. Gould said that “there’s been no biological change in humans for 40,000 or 50,000 years.”  If that is true, and there is no reason to believe that it isn’t, humans are due for some form of evolutionary leap.

My guess is that the evolutionary leap won’t be similar to the X-Men comic where mutants become super heroes. Instead, I believe the next evolutionary leap will be about human emotions. I believe that human evolution will eventually rid us of emotions. Homo crudelis, or cold hearted man. A being completely free from the handicap on emotions playing a role in his decision making.

Now I’m no expert, but doesn’t that sound familiar to you?

I’ve been thinking a great deal about humanity… the things that make us human as it were. For most people, humanity is was separates us from the animals. Duh! you say… The thing is, humans are not born with the emotional and mental tools necessary for “humanity” or kindness or compassion. We have to learn humanity at an early age, left to our instincts, man (and woman) would be only slightly better than animals. I find it oddly comforting that most people completely disagree with this because their brains cannot process certain truths.

For instance… sanity. What is it? How is it measured? What does it really mean?

Lets look at it another way…

A man goes for a walk. On his walk he encounters a man who begins to berate him for wearing a sweater vest. In response the man in the sweater vest beats the man to death with a brick he picks up from the ground. When he is finished bashing this mans brains in, he continues on his walk without any thought to his previous actions.

Which man is insane and which man is sane?

Culturally, we have rules that prevent responding to external experiences violently. Call it the “civil” part of civilization. The idea that disputes can be handled without resorting to our base instincts. Instinctually though, as the previous thought suggests, human beings respond to all stimulus in one of two ways… fight or flight. Civilization is really another way of saying domestication. That domestication is the product of hundreds of years of culturally forced rules (or morals) that are meant to make people more likely to be controlled, often times by weaker, less intelligent people.

Click on READ MORE to see a video that proves my point that there is no such thing as a selfless act… or at least shows how funny Friends was back in the day…

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I’m dying. Ok, well… I am sick and feel like death warmed over so to pass the time as I cough my lungs up, I’m watching The Office on netflix. Funny show, but not in the typical haha funny that is popular on television. No, this is more like the kind of funny that makes you uncomfortable and makes you wish you were somewhere else. I can’t really figure out whether I like the show because, well, I am torn.

Most of the time I like to make people uncomfortable. Watching someone else make people uncomfortable though makes me… well… uncomfortable. Now it could be the cold medicine talking, but I laugh out loud while watching this show and even that makes me uncomfortable. I was trying to figure it all out, thinking that it would be relagated down to one of life’s mysteries when it dawned on me. I know someone like Michael Scottt (played by Steve Carrel)… My friend acts just like him… ever since I can remember.

Then it made me uncomfortable to realize that I associate with and encourage him. Or it could be the cold medicine talking.

In 1986 DC comics published a 12 issue limited series called Watchmen. Being a huge fan of comics in general, this series completely destroyed everything I thought I knew about the concept of super heroes. The gritty, noir-like tale was a major hit and struck a chord with fans and critics.

One thing though… unlike a number of other comic franchises, Watchmen was a comic that no one believed could ever be brought to the screen without losing a great deal of what made it so fantastic.

Zack Snyder, he of 300 fame, completely dispels any notion that Watchmen would fail as cinema. The Red Queen and I caught it today at the local theater and I was blown away by how closely it followed the original material and how well it translated into film.