5/31/95 1:03:50 Hmmm.
I did some thinking today in the library (don't I always) and realized that the reason stupid people don't like me is because I don't like them and I let them know it through body language. I also thought for a while about the concept of parenthood and adoption and how our tendency to keep pets measures in. I figure that people often obtain pets as substitutes for children. It assuages part of the human need to feel needed. Sidetracked thought here: Now that higher divorce rate has sprung from the liberation of women by integrating into the workforce, perhaps this will convince a lot of people not to have so damned many kids. Sidetracked thought: This is why I feel a basic revulsion for people who keep stupid pets. A yappy, intolerant, ribbon-festooned poodle named "snoogums" speaks for the mental state of its owner in a certain way. I think: "If this is the kind of creature you have to choose in order for it to be fully dependant on you, you can't possibly have much to depend on." People keep yappy, aggressive little pets that answer only to them as a kind of placebo to counteract their own weak, insecure tendencies. For example, it seems that they always imagine the third party looking in, and derive a feeling of superiority when that third party realizes that this creature will only favor their owner. Sidetracked thought: This idea of the need for dependance fits the frame of the mother who always speaks to her son in babying tones- she is mentally establishing an imagined dependance upon her. I have observed this in the habits of my own mother, especially when I am trying to convince her to quit smoking or do something else that she does not favor. Sidetracked thought: I realize now that my revulsion for stupid people is inconsistant with my affection for animals. I also realize that my tendency to stay away from them is consistent with my tendency to stay away from stupid animals that may try to kill me. When I smash a fly that is bothering me, I do not blame it for all the worlds ills- nor do I blame it for the other flies that have bothered me in the past. I do however, smash it. I realize that to kill anything out of turn, even to assist in its supposedly inevitable demise, is against greater human nature; however in specific instances, when I am of the opinion that there is absolutely no future for this animal except helpless torment, I choose to off it. I feel revulsion in the very process of offing it sometimes, which I accept as proof that I am not heartless... But sometimes I am displeased by the idea of existing in the same world wherein such suffering is occuring- even if it can be out of sight and sound by simply running around the block. Sidetracked thought: The state of desiring a state and actually being in that state are often two radically different states of mind. Some are actually incompatible with their desired counterparts- and are often inconsistent. Fighting abortion by killing doctors, for example. Pound for pound, killing a doctor destroys more human flesh than ten thousand abortions. Cutting your arm on a washboard kills more human cells than an abortion, in fact. Folks see the irrelevance in this and try to sidestep it by claiming that the real value of human flesh is in its potential- and a fetus is a potential human. I see this as medically flawed- a baby is not just a potential human, it is a human. But a zygote- how long could it survive when not encased in the mothers' body, sharing her blood, absorbing her nourishment? Not even seconds, I suppose. So this would seem to invalidate the "potential" argument; however one can latch onto that fleeting few seconds of life as justification for leaving the fetus inside the mothers' body. Well, what if the mother decides to slough the zygote off by dosing up on estrogen pills? Did the pill murder the baby, or the mother? (Did the gun kill the victim, or did the murderer?) People point fingers at the mother and scream "babykiller!" (which is automatically incorrect as she didn't kill a baby.) Well, pretty nasty things happen to babies whose mothers smoked crack, too, but pointing at the mother and screaming "baby crippler" is obviously not going to help the mother, nor the baby. Sending the mother to jail because she smoked crack is not going to help the baby either, but then, it should compound the charges if she addicted her own baby- so how is justice to be served if this is a life sentence? By legalizing drugs, you shitheads. Still, there was the fact that she addicted a minor (her baby) (legally pursuable only because the baby was born after it could have potentially survived outside the mother). This needs punishment- but I'd suggest punishment in the form of rehabilitation and education. So what's to keep hordes of crack-dependant mothers from holing up in the rehab center their whole lives? The stipulation that rehab life is to be clean life, and if you are caught lighting up in rehab you are tossed out. What a tangled web we weave when we practice to improve. Now I remember a tiny part of the dream I had last night. There was a black woman in it, must have been over a hundred years old, whose body had been nearly destroyed by years and years of hard drug abuse. She was laid out in a hard wooden bunk on the wall of a disheveled house in the middle of a slum. I believe that she had convinced me to pick her up and carry her outside so she could meet her contact, who would give her another dose of her drug. She weighed nothing in my arms as I stepped outside. Without warning, I began to float up into the air. As I passed over a lake, I either slipped or deliberately dropped her into the water below. Telepathically, she told me that the cool water around her body was a better high than she had been hoping for in the drugs, and that she would die now, because she figured she was finished with her life. Slowly she dissolved into the water and disappeared. Sidetracked thought: In the latter half of this century, with the advent of computers, we are coming to realize just how impermanent human life is. A person is an individual only through their memories and their connections, and memories and connections are impermanent, as is the definition of the individual- the language through which we exchange these commodities has a sinister life of its' own. We define our lives through what we have immediate access to, and reach out to other things using our first concepts as stepping stones. In this way, our past determines our reaction to the present, and thusly our future. Sidetracked thought: I suppose this is why travel is said to be broadening- you can go to environments where the more conveniently accessible materials are radically different. Sidetracked thought: We think in three dimensions, eh? Than why is everything we "see" in our heads a two-dimensional image? Because we are shoving concepts through our senses, like a tape recorder playing a tape. Aside from the connection of an image to a word, we have spatial relationships recorded- and this is why we can shove the relationships through our visual sense and "view" the chair from any angle. Sidetracked thought: This is why artists are sometimes the "channels" for what they express on the canvas: They are the recorder that plays back the image, that builds the raw feelings and concepts into something that the senses can transfer accross communication lines in the physical world: aural music on tape, visual art on a canvas, words on paper, inflections of speech and dancing and the whole range of "artistic" pursuits... This is why art is not the presentation of one concept, but of many, juxtaposing them- "it's all in the changes, man!" Sidetracked thought: If Trent keeps publishing grindy hardcore music, I won't have to.
This is the kind of crap I get when I write down what I