Everyday Avatar

You have 30 minutes?

2006-08-11T12:35:00.000-05:00

Penn and Teller: Bullshit! 12-Stepping.

I quit AA 7 years ago after 7 years in the program. While I still believe that addiction is brain based, I don't believe that God can fix me. P & T pretty much frame why I quit. I got tired of the worn platitudes, the deification of Bill Wilson and Bob Smith, and the Big Book zombie-like transformation of people I considered friends.

Did AA save my life? Yeah, I think it did. What does that mean? Fuck if I know, but I can't see myself going back.

via MeFi

Why "Nice Guys" are often such LOSERS

2006-08-03T11:44:00.000-05:00

ou hear it all the time: "He was such a NICE Guy, and she's such a Heartless Bitch for dumping him."

I get letters from self-professed Nice Guys, complaining that women must WANT to be treated like shit, because THEY, the "Nice Guy" have failed repeatedly in relationships. This is akin to the false logic that "Whales are mammals. Whales live in the sea. Therefore, all mammals live in the sea."

If you have one bad relationship after another, the only common denominator is YOU. Think about it.

What's wrong with Nice Guys? The biggest problem is that most Nice Guys (tm) are hideously insecure. They are so anxious to be liked and loved that they do things for other people to gain acceptance and attention, rather than for the simply pleasure of giving. You never know if a Nice Guy really likes you for who you are, or if he has glommed onto you out of desperation because you actually paid some kind of attention to him.

Nice Guys exude insecurity -- a big red target for the predators of the world. There are women out there who are "users" -- just looking for a sucker to take advantage of. Users home-in on "Nice Guys", stroke their egos, take them for a ride, add a notch to their belts, and move on. It's no wonder so many Nice Guys complain about women being horrible, when the so often the kind of woman that gets attracted to them is the lowest form of life...

Self-confident, caring, decent-hearted women find "Nice Guys" to be too clingy, self-abasing, and insecure.

Nice Guys go overboard. They bring roses to a "lets get together for coffee" date. They try to buy her affections with presents and fancy things. They think they know about romance, but their timing is all wrong, and they either come-on too strong, too hard and too fast, OR, they are so shy and unassertive, that they hang around pretending to be "friends", in the hope that somehow, someway, they will get the courage up to ask her out for a "date".

They are so desperate to please that they put aside their own needs, and place the object of their desire on a pedestal. Instead of appreciating her, they worship her. We are only human, and pedestals are narrow, confining places to be -- not to mention the fact that we tend to fall off of them.

Read the rest at Heartless Bitches International

I've been there. Thank Goo, I don't have to date anymore. However, I do see signs of myself, in this article now, and it's a good reminder to not be such a pussy in my marriage. Be the equal, not the spineless jellyfish.

Back on the horse

2006-08-02T10:45:00.000-05:00

Today I was laying in bed in an unusual state. I was taking a nap after getting up at 6:30, going to the bathroom and deciding to go back to bed. It was awsome.

And as I lay there and willed my muscles to relax, I thought..."Ok, pretend this is your death bed, you are going out as you would like, nice and relaxed, gestalt your life."

I'm sorry to say that it was a negative burst of frustration, anger, missed opportunites and pain. I didn't tense up, but continued to drift. I thought with some resignation, "Yeah...that's probably how it's gonna be."

But I realized there is no reason for it. I have a wonderful wife and a fantastic marriage. I may not be super great with my family, but I do love and care for them, there is no longer any hate.

However, I am walking around with a spiritual pain that closely resembles a physical pain. As thought there is a wall between me and the rest of the world. I looked into dealing with it this way, and I'm currently on Paxil, which further divorces me from my emotions. At this time I've decided to just live with it as a part of me. "Ok, I'm walking wounded, let's just move on to the next thing."

Which brings me back to Everyday Avatar. Having just looked at a goofy-ass Men's Movement, I'm rather down on the jargon-parroting, ritual-formulaic, culture-theiving aspect of it, but still believe there is some quality of Maleness that needs addressing, as well as the personhood aspect of giving of one's self to the community.

Since the end of March when I put EA on Hiatus, I've been resting my energies. It seems selfish to me on first glance, but on the hindsight deathbed, I'm still giving. I am training for the MS 150 and raising money for a worthy cause, and in doing so, I'm exercising on a regular basis. I give blood from time to time, more specifically I gave it on a day that was My Day. That says something, and I've been there for a friend who was inexplicably hospitalized and I've proven my loyalty and friendship with this vacation fiasco, and I only lose 1 vacation day so someone else can have a good time.

So I'm still in the personhood game, even if at times it doesn't feel like it, which is important because I realized today that I have everything I need at this time, and then some. It's a fucked up world and getting more fucked up everyday.

It's time to get back on that horse, pull on the god mask and get back to fucking work.

On Hiatus

2006-03-28T14:04:00.000-06:00

Currently due to lack of postings from myself and others, Everyday Avatar has been put on hiatus while us Dudes go out and experience life as men.

Whether or not anyone of us ever comes back will not be promised, but since the Real Estate is cheap, I don't have to remove anything.

Feel Free to visit our respective sites.

Cap'n Marrrrk (God at Large)

Like Tree Feeling The Sap Flow

2006-03-02T11:40:00.000-06:00

The smell comes from an increasingly distant past to a perpetually clogged nose.

Spring is in the air and I am a child running through the meadow behind my house, flashing around my 1/4 mile street, climbing trees hearing birds and smelling green.

The weight is lifted for the moment and I sigh. Down in by balls I feel the force of creation stir.

I feel the Earth on her orbit around the sun, whirling and spinning, vast universal forces moving me towards Awakening.

citizen duty

2006-02-25T01:18:00.000-06:00

Two days ago was a bad day to be a citizen of this place. I mean, in a way, I felt pretty good about policing fellow humans, but in a bad way, it pointed out the way, in a way, I am equally as “bad.”

Morning – late for work and frustrated in so many other ways I shouldn’t be, and a car stops ahead of me at the red light on Hampton & Fyler. She rolls her old toyotasomethingerother-from-early-last-decade’s window down. The staggered window only opens long enough to expel a large-size Taco Bell® plastic bag full of trash.

Watching this, short-fused-appalled, I pulled the barking break on my 4runner, opened the door and slipped off the seatbelt in one motion, walked up past left-turn-lane-cars, picked up the bag, walked to her window, knocked sternly. Got a weary, timid look.

“You dropped this!” I demanded. You dropped this. Quick to anger, she frowned—her tired-of-working-too-many-hours eyes steamed at me. She wasn’t taking the bait rolling the window back down like other people have before…. They’ve said “Oh, I guess I dropped that,” innocently enough to sound convincing though their eyes they are embarrassed and growingly enraged that I am calling them out. I’ve had girls call me “peace hippy” and “fucking asshole” in the same breath; I’ve had guys threaten to pummel my face, and you can't forget the standard middle finger, here and there.

She just stared up at me, asking why but raging.

I placed the bag on her windshield and walked back to my car. I hear her yell at me-- I turned around to her, a car and a half-length away. “You don’t know me. You don’t know me! and someothermeanstuff.”

The first part was all that I heard.

I wanted to say, “I know you’re a fucking litterer,” but I stood there in the street, people around me gazing at the situation; an SUV window rolls down half way, near intervention. That was one step away from “I’m Woodsy the Owl and Give a hoot, don’t polute.” Yes, cliché might not have sold my efforts, but I just got in my car.

I didn’t know her. And out of all the hard knocks she’s living with in life, in her rusty mazdasomethingerother from sevensomething years ago, I just made it worse for her already shitty-ass day. She drove at the green light with everything the car had, exhaust billowing…but the plastic bag of taco bell trash slid gently off her windshield, floating lightly square onto Hampton like a bad American Beauty rip-off scene, where tens of morning commuters were waiting at their red, dully watching.

I could have stopped, but I would have blocked more traffic. But I should have picked it up out of the road. Not only would it have made me feel better overall, I might have justified the incident to the onlookers. Instead, the thoughts of others in secular traffic made me think I should move on and get out of the way—I caused enough hardship for some people, waiting ten seconds longer than they should have at the intersection….

I’m a jerk because it some respects, I litter in my own way on this planet. My car gets low gas mileage, I don’t recycle card board anymore because my recycling service doesn’t take it anymore. I could drive it up three blocks, but the gas expended in my 4Runner makes it hardly worth it. So she could have yelled at me in the same fashion-- knocked on my window, said “you drive that gas-guzzling suv, work for profit, and eat more than one person on this blue earth deserves! How dare you!”

I mean, yeah, even though I knew that I deserved it myself, I made a stand. Even though I would have been embarrassed because someone called me out on my human failings, I would have rolled down my window when she walked away and screamed, “You don’t know me! You don’t know me and something elseorother!”

a bit of kensho in sweat and music

2006-02-22T00:40:00.000-06:00

I had a spark of satori tonight – just a tiny hint of that experience I had several years ago. I tried to ride it, but it was gone before I knew it—perhaps it could be better classified as kensho, but hardly that. No wave of ultimate awareness washed over me tonight, rather an almost incidental flash in the corner of my mind, giving me just enough information to recognize it for what is was.

I just got finished jogging—haven’t run in a while, so I was beat, probably more because I was feeling down-and-out as of late these days (which partially explains my hiatus from EA). I’ve got a lot of ugly things going on and haven’t been creative much at all, cept finding new ways of getting more angry about the struggle. Just finished watching Loose Change which incited more despair, had a string of corrupt files at deadline, all with my ongoing, run-down state of affairs looming like an ugly story arc. Still sorting out personal and work lives through all of this, but determined I was going to work out instead of pouring a whiskey tonight. So I pulled on my running shoes and the nano.

It was like needle-tipped fraction of light that hit near the end of “the W.A.N.D”, a new track from the Flaming Lips. I downloaded it earlier, but hadn’t really listened to it yet. Initially, the driving bass and distorted guitar grabbed my attention, but the whole meaning mixed with the song fit my angst and spirit soulfully. It’s a song about avatars. Us. The warriors—fighting the battle.

It gives me hope when I see others out there, making art in the shape of revolution and change, and I guess the song struck me and tapped me back to the spirit, sparking something. whatever happened, I am just excited to feel better and more positive about things right now. Damn.

Although I’m not even close to where I was when the original satori hit me years ago, it feels like—right now—tonight, it might have turned me around. Not sure yet past this day, but I feel pretty good. I thought I should post.

night.

(And just so you know, although I am confident of my experiences, I realize some people might not subscribe to them as stated, and some might call me naïve or nutjob. I’m always interpreting my experiences and am humbled by my personal pieces of illumination. I don’t know if I need that sort of disclaimer in this place, but I’ve found all too often, I’ve had to use it).

Here are the lyrics, but check out the song if you can.

THE W.A.N.D. by the Flaming Lips

(You've got the power in there,
waving your wand in the air..)

Time after time,
those fanatical minds
try to rule all the world
Tellin' us all it's them
who's in charge of it all
I got a trick, a
magic stick that will
make them all fall
We got the power now
This is where it belongs..

You got that RIGHT
(you got the power in there)
You know it IS
(waving your wand in the air)

They have their weapons
to solve all your questions,
they don't know what it's for
(they don't know what it's for)
Why can't they see it's our power
that streams in this wand
more and more?
(in this wand more and more..)

I got a plan, and it's
here in my hand-
the disarming device
We're the enforcers,
the sorceror's orphans
and we know how we fight
(and we know what we fight)

You've got that RIGHT
(you've got the power in there,
waving your wand in the air..)

Ok Mike:

2006-02-20T09:54:00.000-06:00

I have the response to most of your comments.

Thanks for joining the discussion. Sorry for the delay. Life doing life things.

Fuck Fucking Fear? I'm scared.

2006-02-14T12:15:00.000-06:00

Last Friday 2 more guys with my company got fired, setting a brief panic on me, The Cap'n.

The interesting thing about the brain and how it processes information is that it takes lots of shortcuts, and it makes assumptions on data that have nothing to do with what is actually occuring.

I was -> <- this close to cowering in fear that I would be next, even though there was no evidence.

Fear is primarily based on loss. Please don't take my job, livelihood, masculenity, life and/or power. And Friday I sure felt the Fear.

As some folks who come by here may know, I've been on Paxil for the last 6 months, and much of what I feel is somewhat muted (except for anger which is quicker to abate though)...it takes a large dose of caffine to make me feel "normal", which of course then brings the attendant "Free Floating Anxiety".

Of course it's alright to feel Fear. Only an idiot would say otherwise, but it is a drag, and even harder, sometimes, to not act on it and do something stupid. Luckily in this instance I was paralyzed by fear and didn't do anything but surf all day.

Cycles

An interesting thing came to light during my recent media fast. I became aware (once again) of the chemical cycles that rule my life. If course I believe that personality is a combination of chemistry and history, and that there are cyclical tidal forces that swing the brain chem around. We constantly learn things about ourselves that we forget and relearn again, and again. It's the nature of the imperfect gelatinous grey matter.

So I was very surprised when I read Stephen King on James Frey's ''Million Little Pieces'' this past weekend while at a friend's house.

While King generalizes about Alcoholism in general, he does nail some things, mostly the bit about Alcoholism being a "Liar's Disease". As an addict and Alcoholic, I found that I primarily lie to myself about movtives and issues of self (and my role in the workplace etc.), and that all my perceived failures are related to the truth I bury from myself. Of course, I don't believe that this only happens to alcoholics...this happens to everyone, I just think that the failures are more pronounced with the Alkie.

That all being said, EA is about being claiming your masculine Godhood, but as the project continues we find that we are drawing the genderline less around being Masculine than it is about being a Person and the daily responsibility that entails.

Happy Lupercalia

2006-02-14T00:05:00.000-06:00

Oh, how I long for the old days.

Since the holiday is right, I thought I'd post this this little micro-essay. It's heavily based on a posting I put up here a while back, but reworked to be used in a project I'm currently working on, so it's only a partial repost. Enjoy!

"First came the Chaos; and then broad-breasted Gaia, secure seat for ever of all the immortals who occupy the peak of snowy Olympus; the misty Tartarus in a remote recess of the broad-pathed earth; and Eros, the most handsome among the immortal gods, dissolver of flesh, who overcomes the reason and purpose in the breasts of all gods and all men."

Hesiod (~800 BCE)

Gaia is the female principle, the generative, the creator, the penetrated, the yin. Eros is the male principle, the provider, the destroyer, the penetrator, the yang. Both sprang from Chaos and all three are fundamental principles of creation, without which there could be no life.

Although as strongly associated with sexual desire as Gaia is with fertility, it is a mistake to think of Eros solely in such limited terms. These are primordial forces. They are the parents of the gods themselves, too large and powerful to be safely confined to simple cartoon sketches. Eros is passion, not procreation. He invades and permeates you, obsesses you, controls you. He is the shaker of limbs, the dissolver of flesh.

He is the consort of artists and autocrats as much as of the amorous. He is there when music makes it impossible to sit still. He is there when a book makes you so happy or so sad that you burst into tears. He is there when you are full of rage and blindly lash out. He is there when the smile of a stranger brightens your day.

Eros is neither good nor evil. He just is. Without him you would not exist, and his power burns strong in your very soul. Still, he's dangerous, tricky, and when you're not careful, can destroy without a thought. Destruction, creation, and chaos have always been inextricably bound, after all. The gods play for keeps.

Yet, for all of his fearsome power, a power which terrified even Zeus himself, the legends tell us there is one who can restrain him, keep him from becoming too dangerous, who he listens to, respects, and needs.

There is Aphrodite.

Sympatico

2006-01-20T18:42:00.000-06:00

The email read, "Mandatory All Office Meeting 10AM in the Lobby"

"I'm scared, said Cheryl the Accountant and Unwilling Secretary.

Weird, vibe in the place, I thought to myself.

"Motherfucking news travels fast in this place," said the other Mark, my IT Guy and Tech Czar.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"K got fired this morning," replied Mark.

"What? Oh Fuck." I said and went into shock. I fucking hope I'm not next.

K is my Creative Director. He was the Number 3 Guy in the company and one of 4 of my bosses. I liked him, I was confused as all get out, and he got the axe.

The Office Manager brought her husband and son in, kind of for security.

I stayed in my workspace, not daring to draw attention to myself, and to not have to face K. It's a small, small office and I had nothing to say.

There was emotions and drama. Locks were changed, I had to print a picture to give to building security.

Numbers 1 & 2 spoke of how excited they were to be bringing in new talent. They are about to spend a shit load of money on some guys who used to work for us, but had been driven off by K.

1 & 2 said how sorry they were to have to fire K, repeatedly, to everyone around them.

But you know they weren't, not really. If that were the case they would have kept him around. This wasn't a lay off, it was an out and out firing. 10 years with the company.

As I write this, I realize that maybe they did try to make it work, and that they were genuinely sorry. At least I think #2 was. He'd worked with K for 15-20 years. I think #1 is a sociopath, but that's just me. Anyone that already has 25M in the bank shouldn't be working. To me that's insanity.

I understand that men are more sympathetic than empathic. That means they have more affinity, than identification with the source of the emotions. Sympathy is a level or 2 removed from empathy. It's easy to mistake them. But I think in order to have true empathy, one must have already experienced that event which triggers the emotional condition, otherwise you are left with sympathy.

I've been fired from 2 jobs in the past 5 years. I don't care that people call it a "lay off", being forcibly removed from my job is a firing, and it has also added to the bitterness I feel towards "work". But that's an issue I'll wrestle with for the rest of my days.

K is responsible for my hiring, and we talked much about guitars and music, but he had driven off the talent over the years, so I've heard, but that doesn't mean I didn't like the guy.

Sympathy vs Empathy. Where do you stand on the issue?

Chat with a Visual Neuroanatomist

2006-01-16T10:47:00.000-06:00

I met a guy at a party last night who is a Visual Neuroscientist, so of course I had to ask him about the visual questions I've had lately.

Now, 10 hours later I get to try to reproduce what he had said from memory. So take it all with a grain of salt.

To his knowledge there has been no study to determine whether or not women use their periphrial vision more so than men. It's used about the same on everyone, and even should someone spread their attention out to focus more on the periphrial, it would take away from the frontal because attention is finite, and you lose the detail from where your attention is not.

Also, there is almost no point in paying attention to the periphrial because of the minds short cutting ability. As you sit here and read this, and you focus your attention on your periphrial, that stuff on the side, is for the most part, valueless once you've percieved. The brain doesn't need to remember it's there unless there is a change in it's state. However, putting a bulk of your attention on your periphrial may not be wise, because the periphrial is notorious of being unreliable in terms of anything other than motion. It's not equipped for details and often fills in information which does not exist, as evidenced by this Rotational illusion.

I proceeded to tell this gentleman that when I spread my attention out to include the periphery that it gave me a long forgotten feeling of psychedellia, and he understood what I was talking about, but that of course he didn't recommend taking acid (which wasn't what I was suggesting. It made me think of this: The God Module.

Then our conversation was interrupted and that was that. Since he believes there is no difference in gender perception, I couldn't ask how that could relate to cognition and gender based world interior/exterior world perception based on visual input. So I have questions that may go beyond Science's current ability to answer because there are many levels of cognition from basic shape perception, to the problem of stitching together a cognizant visual world from segmented object input (the "Segmentation Problem"), to the interplay at the higher levels of consciousness. There is a lot we don't know about the brain, so there you go.

Woman Thou Art God - The University Of Mother God Church

2006-01-09T12:31:00.000-06:00

Wow. Rock fucking on!

The funny part is, if a man were to do this, in my opinion, it would resemble a "White Power" kind of thing, even though that's what EA is all about. It's more low key.

My friend Rich is visiting from Japan, and since he's been gone for a while remarked, "How come all the men on TV shows are all goofy idiots and it's the women who have it together? I understand the swinging pendulum, but it's fucking ridiculous."

Me, I'm not surprised, but it's true that I am swimming in the mediasphere right and I while I had noticed, I didn't find any problems with it, because that's currently how I see my gender. At least the majority of us. I mean I AM a bumbler, stumbling through life with no plan, leaving a trail of messiness behind me (I try to put my stuff away but can never really remember), that Alessandra is always picking up.

Perhaps Rich is bristling because he sees it as a personal attack. I dunno, I'm not a mind reader. But I see the mess that the current patriarchal paradigm is leaviing behind. Perhaps it's time for a change.

Perhaps men were meant to be the dolphins of the human world, frollicking around and playing when not busy. I wonder what evolutionary role that would have...perhaps stimulating a new creativity to help compliment the majority of women who really have their shit together.

Amongst the Cavedudes

2006-01-02T20:04:00.000-06:00

Today I had an experience I would consider interesting. After I ate lunch today at the office, I got an invitation to eat out with my 2 second tier bosses (B1 & B2) and an Account Guy (AG). Having no other work to do, I said sure.

What a surreal experience!

The place we went was know for having scantily dressed waitresses and lots of tvs. Our waitress was really, really hot, but the others were just average gals dressed like whores, but this wasn't a topless place. The 3 men set immediately to drinking and talking about how many beers it would take them to find our hostess attractive.

Then they proceeded to discuss the company, whose inner workings I didn't understand, but I did my best to keep up.

And the beers kept coming.

Today was Bowl Game Day, and the beers kept coming, and the comments about our waitress became smuttier and smuttier, with much discussion about whether or not she sucks professional athelete dick, how she spent her New Years (XTC and fucking), and so on.

The came the sports talk along with even more beers. And some more work talk. At one point I was asked to leave the table, so something could be said, but I was only gone for a moment.

The more beer, and more speculation about our waitress. Along with more beer and The Big Game. I had my TV-B-Gone with me, but didn't have the angle to shut off the tube during a long run into the endzone.

More beer followed by Fuck, Marry, Kill, in which I was asked which of my female coworkers from a list of 3 would I Fuck, Marry or Kill.

More speculation about our waitress (who I might add had fine golden hair on the small of her smooth, smooth back), more F,M, K and more football.

4.5 hours away from the office was pretty cool, and don't get me wrong, these guys are very nice, and very funny, but the humor and the locker room smut chat wasn't for me. It has been a very long time since I hung out with guys doing "guy" things, and it was very uncomfortable although the fellas did nothing to intimidate me, I just felt like an alien unable to relate to nearly everything they had to say.

Everyday Avatar is all about exploring what it means to be a man and celebrating that manhood. This is a side passage that may be worth exploring, though I personally don't want to celebrate it. The chat was incredibly juvenile, even though I have to agree that our waitress was very hot, I don't need to giggle like schoolboy because I tried to look up her skirt when she climbed some steps near by (I would have looked, but I had a shitty seat at this place and saw nearly nothing). It was weird. This is a facet of my gender that makes nearly no sense to me. Big backwards step. Part of me kept thinking, "And this is why we have war." Caveman at his most basic.

The Results of an Unscientific Poll

2006-01-02T09:05:00.000-06:00

I've been asking the women I know, in an unscientific manner how they actually look at the world. And it appears to me that the the majority of the women I ask, use much more of their periphrial vision than do the men. They have a wider screen. And I wonder how that effects cognation, and whether it means that women have more attention in their attention pool than men.

I spoke to my friend Jeremy, a newly minted Psych Ph.D. whether or not it were possible for us to increase our total amount of attention because it seems the current conventional wisdom is that attention is a finite limit, and the more we pour into examining our periphrial vision, the less we have for other matters.

I, of course, believe that we can make the pool larger through meditation, and am in the process of beginning to meditate more, as well as try to be aware of my periphery better, though the past week at home hasn't really helped seeing as I've just been in my cave, now that I'm back at work, I will try to spread that awareness.

His Brain, Her Brain

2005-12-20T16:17:00.000-06:00

It turns out that male and female brains differ quite a bit in architecture and activity. Research into these variations could lead to sex-specific treatments for disorders such as depression and schizophrenia

-via Scientific American

Another Subcircuit to the Leary 8 Circuit Model?

2005-12-19T14:33:00.000-06:00

I was driving home from my in laws farm yesterday and I had an interesting conversation with my wife Alessandra.

For some reason, I had taken it into my head to try and drive while also trying to be aware of my pheripheral vision at the same time. Now, shortly before we got in the car to drive, I was doing some heavy meditation on my new tattoo. And I think I may have dug up an ancient memory of an article I read way back in '91: Whole Earth Review: Nightwalking: exploring the dark with peripheral vision - includes tips on nightwalking

I mentioned this to Alessandra who then told me that that's how she drives. This of course blew me away, but then again Alessandra is quite special.

This led me to another thought that was built upon a statment made by my brother-in-law Wallace about his step father. "He was so observant he could walk into a room, look around and describe it to you perfectly down to the smallet details when he left."

Alessandra asked me how I drove, and not really thinking about it mimiced a space cadet and then I realized there was another circuit to the Leary Model: Internal vs External

I would say that it is woven between the first 3. The idea is thus: While all people view the world through the screens of World View (however THAT is shaped), people tend to favor either noticing the world through their eyes (External) or watching the world through their mental television sets (Internal).

Which mode they tend to, shapes their reality as a condition of their focus. I am more Internal, so I view the world through a filter of abstractions. I am more heavily influenced by what I think or would like the world to be versus the External who is more prone to see the world as it really is.

I don't have much more to say about that. Instead of using chemical assistance to travel back and forth along the spectrum, you would use single point meditation to boost your awareness. That periphrial vision thing is something I'd like to more fully explor.

-End Transmission

Dropping the Issue

2005-12-15T12:24:00.000-06:00

Now that I've come in and stomped around the issue of Mr. X's sexuality. I've been asked to drop it. He doesn't believe his illness is related to his not coming out, but may fully treatable through Allopathy. He says his life is not dramatic, and that those of his friends who speculated on his sexuality (Dubbed the "Brain Trust" by myself) were reading way too much into his silence. Though he was definately put off by the existence of the Brain Trust. Heh!

I told him that I will take everything he says at face value and let it go, but if he has the chance he should really look into AntiDepressants.

So there you go. I've done all that I could. There was a dialogue, and perhaps some catalyst.

From a response by Mr. X

2005-12-15T01:19:00.000-06:00

Mr. X and I are in talks. That he actually responded blows me away. All evidence was to the contrary.

...i don't know if "secret double life" is really accurate. it's not all that dramatic. i just happen to be gay and don't feel i need to share that with everybody. i figure it's my business. i've never been a flag-waving, super homo-booster anyway, just not my thing. it doesn't define me. (sorry if email makes that sound blunt - i'm saying it with a smile!) I am quite happy to keep it from my family for now though. i just don't think they would all understand. i have a great relationship with my family, and i don't want to screw that up.

i appreciate your concern and your support, but it seems like this voice problem really is a physical thing, at least that's what my voice therapists are saying. i guess there could be some stress symptoms in there compounding the issue...

Anyway, I pushed for perhaps Chemical Balancing Suppport and concern from his friends. He reponded about not wanting to take more pills for other ailments (no insurance), and I invited him to my annual Loser's Ball.

More as it develops. Perhaps it won't. It's tough to get out and socialized when you can't fucking talk. But Bravo for Mr. X for even responding

Healing or Chaos?

2005-12-13T21:02:00.000-06:00

There's a guy I know who is gay but is closeted from all his straight friends. He has a completely different set of gay friends and lives a gay double life...poorly I might add.

I've seen him on dates, I've seen his gay profile on-line, I've seen him walk past his straight friends to hang out with his shadowy gay friends in the back of clubs, and I've heard he's been spotted in gay bars then ran.

All his straight friends know, but no one says anything. Until last night.

This guy, Mr. X, is a singer in a band, and he is losing his voice. Based on stories I've heard, I thought it was just his singing voice, but when I spoke to him the other day on the phone, I learned that he's also losing his speaking voice, and has been for a year.

Doctors are stumped and Mr. X will eventually have Botox injected into his vocal cords to see if that will do the trick.

Do you see the connection?

I came close to telling Mr. X on the phone, but decided to respect his privacy, then rethought it and sent it out as a gentle email.

"I'm concerned about you as a friend," I said. "There is a connection between mind and body. I know about your secret double life, and I think your lack of exposure is what is causing you to lose your voice. I know you come from a very, very religious family and are pulled by very powerful forces, but by not being true to yourself, you are losing the ability to talk. Of course I'm not a doctor, but that's what I think. I'm willing to take the risk that you won't wish to communicate with me again, but then again, if I don't speak it, you may not be doing too much talking in the future anyway. It's 2005 and time to come out."

Being a man is a biological thing. It means having a penis. But being a Man is something different. Which is what I'm trying to explore here. It is a spectrum of actions and behaviors. I think being a Man is similar to an election shell. We know there is one somewhere around the nucleus, but aren't quite sure where. There is no prescribe location of manhood within that spectrum, all that's required is penis. Who plays with it is up to you.

Gender roles are very confusing to me. Since hunting and gathering for the tribe or the spouse has been displaced by market economy, what is my role in society? I don't fucking know, but what I do know for a fact is that in my opinion you can still be a Man, even if you are a homosexual.

As an Agent of Healing I hope I threw a spanner in Mr. X's work–enough to produce a cognative dissonance and shock him into action, but not produce a total meltdown.

A Modern Rite of Passage II

2005-12-11T09:44:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, in what was a stunning move for me, I went and got a new tattoo nearly 13 years after getting my last one. I was sitting, practicing guitar and having a tough time keep any sort of focus for more than two seconds, when I decided I needed to have the OM etched into my flesh so I could mediate on it any time I wanted. I spung the news on Alessandra who, even more to my surprise, told me I should do it that afternoon. So I did. Inside right wrist. We found two versions on-line and Alessandra reworked it on the light table at her office near the tattoo parlor, so I also have some of her artwork on my body.

I wondered what was going on in my subconscious that made me make that decision after so long. I had always wanted another one, but the costs, location and subject matter always eluded me. Why now, why OM? We all know tattooing has a ritual signifigance and personal meaning, and for a lot of people it's a much more regular thing.

Upon reflection I came up with several reasons (in no particular order):

1. I have been feeling stagnant lately in many areas of my life. I needed a radical shock that didn't involve ditching my life and running away somewhere new.

2. I have begun a new creative endeavor, and for some reason tattoos have something to do with it.

3. I wanted the pain because I wanted to feel something because many of my emotions are currently muted. This may be because of the Paxil, on the plus side, a most of my anxiety is gone and I can swallow, although I am still easily irritated. The pain was good. I was vibrating to the needle RPM for hours after the work, and already want another one.

4. I really do need to mediate more, and it's time I go beyond breath counting to OM. As I grokked the tatoo, I realized that the OM would help keep me present in the moment.

There you go, one more "modern" rite of passage.

Now it's off to meditate.

A Modern Rite of Passage

2005-12-05T12:21:00.000-06:00

The late 20th century saw a great deal of handwringing about rites of passage, or the lack of them, in these modern times. In the US, Robert Bly's Iron John spawned a whole slug of hilarious and misguided attempts at reintroducing them through various means.

I maintain that rites of passage have not gone away at all. They are as important as ever, however the nature of them has changed -- as it must -- to accomodate modern society.

What got me thinking about this was a fond remembrance from my youth that I was indulging in the other day: I was walking around downtown with my girlfriend. She was hot. I mean scorching, supermodel, even-the-women-check-her-out hot. The rumor that extremely attractive women have problems getting dates is true, you see. If you have balls enough to ask her out with confidence, and restraint enough to treat her with respect, then your chances aren't as bad as you think.

As we were walking down the street, a man approached her and said "Hey baby, why don't you ditch this loser and spend some time with a real man?" Not missing a beat, she put an arm around me and replied "Honey, this guy is twice the man you could ever hope to be." From watching his face, you'd think she just kicked the guy in the crotch.

You can see why it's a fond memory. Two pleasures in one! Not just ego gratification, but also the joy of watching a powerful woman debilitate an asshole with a well-delivered string of phonemes. But I now realize that it was also something more. It was the first time that I felt like a man, and knew that I had shed the shell of The Boy.

Not traditional, perhaps, but a legitimate rite of passage in my view. I was wondering if perhaps this is a glimpse of the rituals of today: personalized, natural, and private. Do you have a well-defined moment when you became A Man?

Welcome New Guy

2005-12-01T12:32:00.000-06:00

I got a request from Derek at three angry guys to write for EA.

Here was my response:

"Hey Derek,
Thanks for taking an interest in EA. It seems that most of us are a little off the path right now, so any insight you can lend to cause is certainly appreciated. How can one manefest their own male godhood in this day? That's the purpose of EA. Sort of like Fight Club, but much nicer.

If you can do it, more power to you."

And so I opened the invitation.

And as I write this I realize I do have some material add to EA.

Being off your Game does not mean you aren't playing.
It's all about relativistic perception. Where you see things from where you are. Right now I'm feeling down. Very down. Trapped in what appears to be a dead-end job that pays ok, but is filled with daily fear and aggravation, birthday approaching and what seems to be (I hate to admit it b/c I like to think I'm different) The Mid Life Crisis. I'm going to posit the hypothesis that it's biological.

I've been looking back on my life to see what I've accomplished and I'm coming up with a Big Fat Zero. And it's bumming me out.

Perception is a very tricky thing. It's what you look at, and how you look at it that makes all the difference.

If one were to look at careers, yeah I'm not player, but it dawns on me that nearly everyone in my company is a whipping boy/girl. The way the economy is, we are all lucky not to be working retail or food.

My work lacks meaning to me though, and perhaps that's where the difference lies. There is much, much more going on than just work. I'm disappointed that work and my place in the world are taking up so much processing space in my brain. I think that has to change.

I have a wonderful and lovely wife and we do fun things together. That's extremely important.

Not having kids? Also equally important..

I have begun writing again. I've courted the muse for a few weeks and thoughts are occuring. The rusty gears are in motion. Not that I've really set pen to paper in a linear fashion yet, but it's coming. One can't take the call yet not accept the charges. Creation is counter to the flow of Entropy.

I'm still playing the guitar, slowly learning, it's lost it's patina of newness because it is a difficult instrument, but I keep at it.

So there it is. At the time of the writing I am standing next to that mountain...and you know what? I think I'm going to chop it down with the edge of my hand.

The Mysticism of Predator

2005-11-23T02:17:00.000-06:00

For most of my life, I have been of the opinion that the greatest power, magic(k), and mystic experiences can be found in the everyday and mundane. Mostly because I think they can be found everywhere, as they are a necessary byproduct of consciousness -- but when you add in all the Mystical Theatre of whatever style, it can become overwhelming and suffocate the fundamental delicacy, beauty, and accessibility of the thing. A bit like how when an actor overacts, he destroys the very emotions he's trying to convey and becomes a parody. So when I found this essay, Predator: A Shaman's View, it made me very happy and, for a moment, renewed a sense of wonderment of the ordinary that I have been finding increasingly hard to locate lately. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I have a movie to watch.

test

2005-11-11T23:14:00.000-06:00