Showing posts with label entertaining rhetoric. Show all posts
Showing posts with label entertaining rhetoric. Show all posts

This is a work in Philosopical progress
       and these are the '
interesting times' RFK referred to in 1966. . .


          Always.  Constantly.  Your entire life.  Yesterday, today and especially tomorrow; you were, are, and will be talked about . . . after you walk out the door.  Also, before you arrive.  And, when you are not present.  Does this come as a surprise?  Maybe this is something you prefer not to think about?  If so, you might be someone who chooses to think that only you talk about other people candidly, without fetter, when they're out of earshot.

           You were raised by hypocrites, who were themselves reared by hypocrites.  Generations of people who thrived on gossip but shamed those who talked about them "behind their backs."  They, who filled long hours talking about those around them—but, invariably, denied (and will deny tomorrow) talking about you.  The result is a classic dichotomy:  you and your family hold two conflicting ideas in your head at the same time; you talk about everyone you know, but you don't think they talk about you the same way.  They do.  Especially if you attempt to manipulate how they should think about you when you talk to them.  To them.  Not with them.  That shit gets you judged faster than any other behavior.  Fake.  Insincere.  Shallow.  Vapid.  (Are never said to your face.)

          Decades ago, social researchers posited that the majority of adults had between five and twenty-five other adults who were members of their circle of trust.  That was before the internet; when people paid large amounts of money (relative to their income) for "long distance phone calls," and—almost exclusively—communicated by talking face-to-face and writing letters delivered by affixing inexpensive postage stamps to envelopes.  Those hippy researchers labeled our 'inner circles' as circles of intimacy (containing between zero and five people) and the third ring as our circles of associates with a maximum of 150 acquaintances and friends-of-friends.

          During these Trying Times of The Twenties (TToTT®) although technology makes instant communication simple, our circles of trust have shrunk.  [I wanted to edit out these cute correlation-causations, but I like them too much:  the number of characters in your average text; the number of colors and filters in your latest insta; the number of likes; number of favs; of πŸ–’; of conversations (pay-to-talk helps, but doesn't count); of pills you take; of videos you watch; of ... ?] ... Do you even know how to have a conversation?  A real one?

          Today's hipster researchers have re-researched and, now, our circles of trust contain between zero and five people and our circle of intimacy now contains—on average—between zero and two people.  This deserves repeating:  your circles of intimacy and trust may be nonexistent.  Are there any people with whom you can relax and tell anything to ... ... who feel likewise about you?  Are you certain of that?

          Now, of course, you have viewers, followers, and 'facebook friends'.  Those screen-names might fit into our circles of associates, but more-than-likely they are a fourth circle:  strangers hoping you Egostroke, Entertain, or Educate for Free (EEE 4 Free®).

fuck you and the horse you rode in on IRONY HURTS

          O. K.  (you say)  So . . . this is a blog post about Philosophy.  Capital P.  This is the point where you philosophize, bitch.  Impart your art!  Tell me (you demand) about some long-dead, heavily-read, thinker.  Someone who lived during the time of leeches; thrived under the threat of being spiked to a crossbeam until they asphyxiated; for whom pedophilia was routine and customary (their entire lives: catcher-to-pitcher); who practiced a rape-is-legal level of misogyny; who proudly owned slaves (but wrote thoughtfully on how to get the most out of one's chattel-born); and who only thought murder was immoral when it was done to men of his wealth, class, race, and education . . . what knowledge did he have to impart regarding how to cope with my life's difficulties (you ask).  Share the wisdom (you cajole) which might help me assuage these new hardships as I have difficulty coping with uncomfortable and unfamiliar mask-breathing and social-distancing as a modern socially distant person living without access to all the comforts and privileges I was accustomed to a couple of months ago (you say without awareness of the irony, except that I've rubbed your nose in it for a paragraph).

          Stay alert for opportunities to be able to say the sentences: "I was wrong"; "I don't know"; or "That is a new (word, idea, concept, etc) for me".   

          And, when the opportunity occurs, say those words to your viewers, screen-names, followers, and 'friends'.  Then, keep talking to them.  Ask them to explain their point of view, request they share their opinion, and maybe you could even apologize for being wrong. *shudder*  Honest.  Sincere.  Thoughtful.  Challenging.  (Said in your presence ellipsis question-mark.)  

          This mind-set is transformative.  If you are someone who never says these sentences, who never admits to any of these attributes of normal human behavior (or incessantly qualifies the rare admissions you're capable or willing to make) don't give up, you're more than half way there!  It takes more effort to frown than to smile . . . which is just a metaphor I borrowed to point out the huge wall your ego must be constantly building around you.  Justifying the biases which we all have (but which you are seemingly unaware)🞹🞹.

          It is only an inordinate strength of intellect which recognizes it is never the strongest nor the most intelligent, can easily admit if-and-when it has misspoken, and eagerly listens with the intent to learn; which always possesses a child's openness to absorb new information (with the seasoned reasoning of a philosopher only acting as custodial-staff: stepping-in to clean up afterwards); and actively hopes-for and wants—when listening/reading—to hear anything which might improve its out-of-date, biased, confused brain with new-to-you knowledge.  Something, which another might have been carrying around in their head (and been willing to impart) for as long as you've known them.  For free.  All you had to do was ask. *gasp* 

          Normally, I'd attribute, here, which terrible human being(s) I gleaned the above advice from.  The thing is, it came from all of them and none of them.  It's not even possible to source to a single style, type, or area of philo-theosophical writing.

          A bunch of eastern and western dudes (who probably supported the burning of witches for speaking heresy—if, in no other way, than by keeping silent when their next-door neighbors did it) wrote a bunch of random ideas in letters, books, diaries, and formal speeches.  Probably a large amount of which they'd heard or read in books or libraries which were later sacked and burned, so—today—they appear to be the first to think these thoughts.  Which, let me assure you, they were not; almost everything is paraphrased.

          For years, I've put some of that shite which has been attributed to them in my head.  Then, I typed this distillation.  If this makes me a philosopher, please, know this:  I reject almost everything ever written or said, by almost anyone I've ever listened to, or read.  If pressed, I'll probably disagree with the majority of what I just wrote.  *sigh*

🞹🞹  as to what is meant by half-way there and seemingly:  Those who are already vigilantly hyper-attentive, in order to never admit their fallibility, are unaware this always makes them appear to be trying to be someone they're not, which is all it takes to be considered untrustworthy.  Which is why their circles of intimacy and trust are small (or gone) and why they are spoken about, negatively, behind their back.  The fix sounds simple:  admit misspeaking, admit not knowing, admit learning something new.  



more on 'how to relate' (to your-2020-self and others):


          Senator Robert F. "Bobby" Kennedy's full Day of Affirmation speech is linked here; I especially enjoy the following excerpts: ...The cruelties and the obstacles of this swiftly changing planet will not yield to obsolete dogmas and outworn slogans.  ...  "There is," said an Italian philosopher, "nothing more difficult to take in hand, more perilous to conduct, or more uncertain in its success, than to take the lead in the introduction of a new order of things."  ...  Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring: those ripples build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance. ...  There is a Chinese curse which says "May he live in interesting times." Like it or not, we live in interesting times. They are times of danger and uncertainty; but they are also the most creative of any time in the history of mankind. And everyone here will ultimately be judged - will ultimately judge himself – on the effort he has contributed to building a new world society and the extent to which his ideals and goals have shaped that effort. ...
          That RFK was unwilling to attribute the new-order-of-things quote to Machiavelli, by name, gives me a tickle.  It was ballsy enough to give this speech in mid-apartheid South Africa, but to reference the guy who wrote the book on how to unseat a government by any and all means?  Priceless.        

image portions for fuck you and the horse you rode in on IRONY HURTS by:

Saint Labrador the Retriever (et al)




          In Waterbury, Vermont, you can:  touristy-tour the Ben and Jerry's ice cream factory and the Cold Hollow Cider Mill; view sculpture-art on the train-trestle and Saint Labrador the Retriever; hike, bike, or cross-country ski the portion of the Cross-Vermont Trail which loops around the old state hospital and asylum grounds and parallels the Winooski River; or you can meander the obstacle course of the three-year (2019-2021) construction project to explore the tiny downtown area where there is one art gallery, a thrift shop, a bookstore, two bric-a-brac stores, a nice toy store, and a hand-full of bars with a double hand-full of restaurants/diners.




other Vermont to-see's:


Essential Apostrophe


          Whacha been doing since we last talked?

          A decision tree bloomed in my head.

          I considered, for approximately .07 of a second, replying with a brief explanation of the various philosophy books, video-synopses, websites, and—subsequently formed—logical insights I'd come up with on aesthetics, fallacies and personal politics... and how all that related to the ongoing pandemic from my point-of-cloister; which caused me to focus/trip over how pretentious that-all might sound if it were dumped into my unprepared ear-brain.

          So I shifted to considering (for an additional .14  of a second) a nutshell-sketch of my recent art collages:  how I'd created them after perusing thousands of images—over scores of hours—for just the right fit to tell just the right story, to engage my viewers for an extended moment of their lives and (hopefully) cause them to think about what that specific image is asking them to feel, which is the same as what I, the composer, am hoping to communicate.  Which, unfortunately, caused me to realize;  a conversation of this magnitude would require visuals, and a friendly talk was not the place for a PowerPoint presentation.

          For the next full second I thought about the things I'd done since we'd last talked:  I'd gone to a drive-in theater with four screens to choose from (two films at each) and each screen had it's own audio over a different FM radio station.  But.  It was just a drive-in.  It was just Empire Strikes Back...  Also, I'd:  hiked with my cats a few times, gone picnicking, had a campfire, gone to a museum filled with hundreds of hand carved birds, and explored parts of the Green Mountains as well as the islands in Lake Champlain with my wife.  But those were just special things to us.  It was just sightseeing.

          Same-old same-old.  Tryin' not to catch it again.  Or spread it if I'm still contagious.  Keepin' busy.  You?

          Not much different.  Can't wait for this to be over so I can go back to work.  Back to normal.

          I wondered about asking: what if that's never possible - if wearing masks and staying separate was forever - if the education paradigm was going to become 90% online/virtual and the 10% hands-on requirements were going to be held in sterile environments with 14-day quarantines whenever someone entered - if full-body spacesuits were going to be a thing - if . . . nah . . . too pessimistic. 

          I thought you were an essential worker.

          Who're es..essential workers.

          The preferred term's sex worker; I'm pretty sure they aren't.

          Hunh?  Now I'm confused.

          Asked if you were essential and it sounded like you said whores are essential.

          Oh.  The apostrophe in who-are is essential.  I'm not.


comprised of photos titled apostrophe by:

Whatz The Story Behind That?    2

         
          This faded, chenille-stem dancer with long yellow hair, a ribbon-tamborine, and a basket of flowers—most-probably born from the hands of a craftswoman in late 1940s-occupied Japan—caught my eye in a Montpelier antique shop because someone had painted PORTLAND, Ore, on the base of the 2½ inch (65mm) tall figurine, which tickled my coincidence-button since we've both been faded by life (the pipe-cleaner statuette and I) and we both once resided in Oregon but now live in Vermont.  Together. 

          The phrase: occupied Japan causes me to ponder an unhappily married couple.  They no longer fight.  She succumbed for the well-being of her children and then patiently tolerated his choices and changes, walling her own desires away with as much fortitude as it took to not forget past mistakes (made by both) all-the-while resigning herself to a hopefully better future.  When people ask her why, she answers: Shikata ga nai (δ»•ζ–ΉγŒγͺい) It can't be helped.  During both the war and the occupation, he acted as he always had: intentionally blunt and indignantly non-nuanced internment camps, fire-bombs, and hydrogen bombs, followed by pretending to have no knowledge of the magnitude of his actions, the availability of better options, and the mantra: she started it.  He has not changed (if anything, he is worse today) while she has changed for the better (a lack of totalitarian-fascism will do that), but it took too many decades and her self-image is still less than positive.

          I am intrigued by the figurine's label because in 1963, US state abbreviations were standardized as two-letter postal codes—Ore. became OR—which means the figurine was created between 1945 and 1952 (US occupation in Japan), spent some time before 1963 in Oregon and then ended up in Vermont by 2019.
  • Select an item from your environment.
  • Provide a picture, sketch, or other form of visual presentation.
  • Tell its backstory (explain what it is, why you selected it, etcetera). 

continue reading about stuff:
Whatz The Story Behind That Series (ongoing)

Whatz The Story Behind That?    1



          My neighbor gave me this amazingly thought provoking, rectangular, antique, rusted-metal gallon-sized can, which I currently display on my bookshelf.  It has no date, no brand, no location details (other than Vermont) and—besides the name and logo for the Vermont Maple Syrup Maker's Association—no other words besides these:

VERMONT
PURE
MAPLE SYRUP
Sealed in Accordance with Vermont Law
NATURAL  MAPLE  COLOR  and  FLAVOR
Nothing  Added  —  Nothing  Deducted

                              The maple syrup in this can was carefully
                              packed to retain the original flavor under
                              all ordinary storage conditions.
                              After seal is broken, and part of the con-
                              tents removed, refrigeration of the remainder
                              in the original can is recommended.
                              If a quantity left in a once opened can will
                              not be used for a month or more, this re-
                              mainder will be best preserved by repacking
                              in small jars and heating to a near-boiling
                              point in a water bath.
                              Mold found on stored syrup is harmless. Heat-
                              ing in a saucepan and skimming will restore
                              the syrup to a usable condition.

       
          I love the wording.

          Vermont.  The state, which has never had a building code to guide those constructing single-family residential structures towards a safety standard, allegedly* had a law governing how maple syrup should be sealed.  I don't know how long ago, but my best guess is this can is pre-1950s (there is a crudely drawn image of men pouring sap from maple trees into a large container on a sled, being drawn by a horse thru the forest).

          Today's "Refrigerate after opening" originated from within a 20-word sentence 70+ years ago.

          Today's "Best by" originated from the most convoluted 40-word sentence.  Which actually only advised not using the metal can more than a month, because the last paragraph states it never goes bad.  Not ever.

          The last paragraph is the piece de resistance.  It's statements like this which probably prompted the creation of the 1966 Labeling Act.

          *Allegedly because, to print false statements on containers was common practice a century ago.    
  • Select an item from your environment.
  • Provide a picture, sketch, or other form of visual presentation.
  • Tell its backstory (explain what it is, why you selected it, etcetera). 


    Covid Kōan


      

               H. R.   Hufflepuff
               P is for plague playing card
               Fairytales R guff

               From: Fee Fye Foe Fum
               C is for Chinny chin chin
               Teeth U have granmum

               Ring-a-round rosy
               Market piggy is called pork
               Comfort able cozy





    continue considering paradoxical compositions:

      •  KEEP CLEAR  •  


             
              “Scientology propaganda?” my wife replied.  Although I’d formed my own answer even before I asked for everyone’s opinion—I was already glad I asked because:  I’d never have come up with an answer as funny as hers and this was a chance to test some conversation rules (How To Converse, Rule of Thumb #3: Ask Questions; Don’t Make Statements).

              Thinking of ROT#3 nudged me to keep the ask-balloon floating, “Is clear what Scientologists want to accomplish?—or is it a term used by people who’ve escaped them?”

              She said, “I’m confused; I don’t know how it could be an ex-cult-member term.”

              “Unfortunately, I only know about the title Going Clear, which is wedged in my memory without a film or book behind it; so, my imagination has filled that space with an ex-cult-member (How To Converse, ROT#2: Mirror Their Words; Mirror Their Posture”) saying the phrase: ‘I need to get clear of these asshats before they serve Kool-Aid aperitifs’.

              “Ahh, OK” she said with a smirk in the back of her voice, “Clear, as I understand it, refers to their belief that people can rid themselves of engrams, which is their term for unconscious traumatic memories, by holding the sweat-measuring part of a lie detector while being interviewed.”

              Since she didn’t seem to want to elaborate and nobody else was chiming in, I decided to steer the conversation toward more familiar ground (How To Converse, ROT#5: Plot a Familiar Course) by asking, “Are engrams anything like ‘dust’ in Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials?”

              “I can see a similarity—the magisterium thought dust was related to original sin and scientologists think engrams are from trauma, which occur in past lives.”

              My friend, Brian, was becoming uncomfortable (probably not a fan of the topic: reincarnation), so I asked for his opinion, “Hey Brian, what do you think that KEEP CLEAR stencil with yellow side-circles means?”

              “Maybe it’s just the equivalent of ‘Post No Bills’ since it is on an outdoor bulletin board.   I’m pretty sure it would, normally, have fishing regulations and notices for docking boats stapled to it, but because the lake is beginning to freeze-over, all that's been removed for the year.”

              I said, as I turned toward Sharon, Brian’s wife, “Interesting! He thinks it was intentionally put there by the park.” Then, nodding toward my wife (who'd walked away from us and closer to the sign), “She thinks it was put there by a graffiti-artist. What do you think?” (How To Converse, ROT#6: Stir the Pot).

              Sharon replied, “I’m leaning toward put there by the park but, instead of ‘Post No Bills,’ I think it’s more likely it’s intended to prevent people from blocking the view of the board; more than no standing and no parking, I think it's to say: ‘don’t leave your big-ass trailer in front of here’ - but you’re smiling in a knowing way that makes me think it's time to hear what you think.”

              “Ever seen the movie The Fifth Element?” I asked.   After noticing everyone’s reply (to the affirmative) I continued, “The scene where police arrive at Bruce Willis’s apartment building and he’s required to put his hands against an interior wall…?   Inside two yellow circles?  Anyone?  Anyone?”

    Examining Art and Thinking About What You See


              Let's assume you're someone with whom some work of art once inflicted gloom, caused the pace of your heart to bloom, or screamed until your (no longer wavering) attention was totally consumed.  Is that you?...Ohh, Good.

              If you're unfazed by my directness (still reading), obviously your eye has at least once in its life enjoyed a gaze sufficient to overwhelm—then—I intend to use this amazing Diamond Warrior as my example for navigating the beautifully crazed imagination of the artist Michael Parkes.  Stop reading, take another look (below): where did Mr Parkes force your focus?...Ahh yes...as he intended it should.

              My eye.  It bumps down into the distant horizon near the bottom (where both the rump of the warrior and the [uncomfortably too-near] edge of the painting are found)—peering in—I'm surprised to discover: pyramids on fire and clumps of smoke resound (no rising-sun clichΓ© caused those yellow clouds); and back my focus goes to breasts and a posture slumped against the chest.  Is that the profile-face of a captive slave at rest?...Orr, no...I now see two contemplating conquerors (as Parkes expected I would).

              What detail brought that conclusion to the forefront of my mind, which your eye sought but failed to find?  From breasts beautifully defined—nipples tight, skin-taught and unconfined—my attention traveled to behind: her wings of white (he and she're one-of-a-kind!)  And, then, down-past his framing grey wings with her pale body entwined: are her hands gloved in his same-color skin or am I colorblind?...I'mm not...It's grey gloves which rest over her maidenhood.

              So it's his adornment I—now—focus on; for assumptions mis-made and conclusions drawn:  It's probably not skin but (instead) head-to-toe chiffon which provided protection as he burned the distant pantheon; also, it's not the hilt of a blade jutting out-upon his masculinity's shouldered brawn, but the scabbard of a diamond-powered cremation baton (obviously capable of rivaling the dawn); and what of his helmet's two white fronds?...Err, adjustable antenna (to keep the eye moving bottom-right to top-left is understood).

              We've spent many long minutes staring at two beings who can fly like linnets.  One wearing a egyptian-blue lady's favor (tiny stars within it); the other bearing an expression of contentment or disdain or—you decide what she exhibits.  Hopefully you paused to wonder about one incongruous tenet:  If the artist intended to enforce—like a martinet—a constantly angled swirl-sweep of our eyes across his palette, why add, on her head, that single indigo pinnate?)...Mmm, to claim the warrior is looking anywhere but at that purplish gem would be a falsehood.
              


    Other essays on aesthetic philosophy and thinking about thinking:
    Design Fault

    Winterfall

    Find
    Where you best - are comfortable at rest
    Near the space where the muscles under your face
    Unwind, then
    Seek the spot when
    Your attentive mind - feels evermost kind
    Unfocused on the locus while at the same time
    Reach, for a
    Resolve to abhor
    Never to soar - or - teach yourself to become more
    Cognizant of whatever you're always most-never
    Aware, yet
    Don't devolve
    Or forget - that every contestant we've never once met
    Dies before they consider themselves wise
    Careful, there
    It's slippery
    (You have time - I know, you know there's no finish line.)

                             - Winterfall by Veach Glines

    Good Day to Be a Crow


              A few days ago, I decided to go trail walking among the falling and yet-to-fall autumn leaves.  At the trailhead, I noticed a list of Vermont's Hunting and Trapping Dates.  Although I hadn't heard any gunshots, I realized that was probably the last thought JFK, MLK, and Theo Van Gogh all had (although Theo had enough time for a follow-up think: "nobody kills the village idiot," since his assassin only shot him off his bicycle and, then, dispatched him with a knife).

              As I got out my reading glasses, I looked down at myself (wearing exclusively subdued colors except for a splash of color on my hat) and read that bow season was already open for deer, and black bear season had been open for more than six weeks.  Which caused me to feel both stupid-lucky and stupid-foolish at the same time – I'd walked in different wooded areas every one of those past weeks not wearing bright colors but with bear spray on my hip. 

              Driving away, I considered what the odds were of being killed by a human compared to being killed by a black bear (and decided it was statistically more probable to be murdered, by at-least a factor of 100).  Then I wondered at the increased odds of being "accidentally shot" by a drunk, stoned, Vermont hunter, during bear hunting season, while wearing a black sweater (and decided it was smart I chose not hiking to Preston Lake that day).

              One line on the list of hunting season dates stuck and wouldn't let go of my shadow:

              Crow   JAN 18 thru APR 8 and AUG 19 thru DEC 16:  Open FRI – MON Only; Closed TUE – THR

              It seems that it is illegal to hunt crows mid-week in this state.  What logic-based data (presumably, closed hunting dates are decided on nesting dates) would support only hunting four days a week?

              Crows – which the government stupidly uses as a category-name for all Corvids – learn from past experiences, pass information along to their young, and (reportedly) are scared away from an area by shooting at them or by using a crow-based scarecrow.

              The federal government regulates an annual maximum number of days in which every state is permitted to allow the hunting of migratory birds.  Vermont Dept of Fish and Wildlife disagrees with the categorization of crows as migratory (considers them a nuisance) and closes "crow season" every mid-week so as to appear to adhere to the letter of the federal regulation. 

     

    other Vermont to-see's:

    Stories of My Demise - Amor Fati and Memento Mori

              Recent essays about Bret and Carol reminded me of a couple of my favorite philosophical theories:   Amor Fati (love fate) and Memento Mori (remember death).  Both Latin phrases are related to the philosophy of The Stoics.

               Memento Mori is something I incorporated into my thoughts long before learning that these unique ideas about death had been codified and given a name over two thousand years ago. 

              Although I understand the useful mental benefits that Amor Fati are supposed to provide, I find myself struggling with the practice of incorporating it into daily life.
       
              In his last book, Ecco Homo, Nietzsche (considered an Existentialist by many - albeit, a label he would have shunned) coined the phrase Amor Fati, which I’ve paraphrased:
              The formula for human greatness is to love fate — to want nothing (which has-happened in the past or will-happen in the future) to be any different than it was or will be.  Do not just ‘bear with’ the necessary hardships in life, much less conceal them, but—instead—love them! 
              I can quasi-successfully get my brain around Nietzsche’s advice:  belaboring our regrets is a dark hole we should be wary of; ‘lucky’ coins provide a single benefit (melt-value exceeds face-value); and, fearing what tomorrow has in store imbues worry but does not alter events.  Therefore (sayeth Fred) ‘flaunt the hardships of life and cherish them, for they are necessary.’  But I say: The hard-knocks which fate has already dealt—or has yet to deliver—haven’t all been (and won’t all be) valuable teaching tools.  I regret stepping in dogshit yesterday, dislike whomever chose not to bag it after their pet shit in my yard, and didn’t enjoy cleaning my shoe.  But, I will remain open to suggestions on how Amor Fati is successfully practiced.

              Pertaining to Memento Mori, the stoic philosopher, Aurelius wrote,
              “Don't look down on death, but welcome it.  It, too, is one of the things required by nature; like youth and old age, like growth and maturity, like a new set of teeth, a beard, the first gray hair, like sex and pregnancy and childbirth—this is how a thoughtful person should await death—not with indifference, not with impatience, not with disdain, but simply viewing it as one of the things that happens to us.” 
              After attending my maternal-grandfather’s funeral, I learned that Papa (1915-1977) had been planning on retiring, and collecting social security later that same year—only an unforeseen heart attack derailed his plans while he was sleeping.  At his funeral, I re-heard the story of his father’s demise at the age of 57 (also, of an unforeseen heart attack) although Great-Papa was rowing a boat at the time of his death.
     
              When I first began to talk about those two ancestors (Papa and Great-Papa) I’d synopsize their lives to underscore how they might have enjoyed the relaxation of a few “golden years” if they hadn’t chosen to blindly focus on, and plan for, the end of their employment years based on the one-size-fits-all, government retirement template.

              In the middle of my 17th year of military service—1999—I was (not partying like it was almost Y2K but, rather, was seriously) second-guessing my oft-stated plan to retire in three years.  Fate reminded me.  My father, Leverett, died of an unexpected heart attack.  He was 60 and driving down a sunny mid-afternoon road.  Needless to say, I stuck to my plan.

              Bring up the subject death and I, invariably, get massive push-back.  Everyone I’ve ever attempted to talk with—about death (theirs, mine, anyone’s) is really invested in the specious idea that it is unpredictable and mysterious and (most important) never imminent.   I’m routinely scoffed at when I explain the primary reason I remained in the military for twenty years (and not 30) was because I did not want to follow in my ancestor’s footsteps (that of working up to the day of demise).  “Oh Veach, you aren’t going to die anytime soon!” I constantly hear from naysayers, all-in-a-rush to change the subject.

              My form of Memento Mori is slightly different from that of the Stoics.  I agree that death is a normal part of life, but I also think it should be a topic of normal conversation.  Bring it up with the kids.  Talk about it over beers with a neighbor.  It needs to be discussed because it needs to be de-fanged.

              Americans avoid the subject of death and dying slightly more-often than they avoid talking about how much money they have (promulgated by a foolish, 1950-era, white, male, corporate-mindset based in privilege, greed, inequality and an unspoken ‘I got mine – you get yours’ doctrine) and ever-so-slightly less-often than they talk about what flavor of sex they enjoy (promulgated by a foolish, 450s-era, white, male, religious-mindset based in close-minded hypocrisy, fear, and an unspoken ‘I hide mine – you better hide yours’ doctrine).

               To treat death as a taboo subject, imbues it with the power of mystery.  It isn't mysterious.  It may not be as predictable as the weather (remember when the weather was never predicted with any measurable accuracy?) but definite patterns can be identified.  Actions can be taken to mitigate impending death.  And, when the visage with the scythe does, eventually, come knocking (as it has for every living thing, ever) if you are someone who practiced Memento Mori and Amor Fati you will not be taken by surprise in your sleep, or in your car, or in your rowboat.  You will be mentally prepared for the end of your life - as any rational person should be.

    The First Rule of Philosophy Club is Don't Talk About . . .


              I'm reticent to tell people, in normal conversation, that I've been studying and currently study philosophy.  Even after years of researching different philosophical areas, I don't bring it up unless directly asked.  When I consider talking spontaneously about what I've learned, I feel a pressure-twinge in the proximity of my brain near my conscience, which urges me toward an act of inaction, whichwhen translated into wordslooks like something firmly wedged between modesty and humility.

              Initiation into philosophy club began with reading some books written by some very-long-dead old wise men that had been translated, re-translated, and interpreted (andsurprisingly oftenre-re-interpreted) by less-long-dead (or, occasionally, living) wise people.  The translators and interpreters labeled themselves: Authorand labeled the men they translated and interpreted: Philosopher.

              For me, one book led to another.  One video to another.  Repetition was important.  Re-reading or re-listening became valuable.  Reading a different author/interpreter discuss the same very-long-dead philosopher became most important.  In the long run, all that really happened was I, eventually, gleaned a few insights about the universe; human life and death; society; politics; religions; the brain, consciousness, and the importance of human reasoning; time; logic; as well as how best to cope and how to decide how best to cope (whichsimply putis how to think about thinking and use that self-awareness to best advantage).

              Realization that I was a member of philosophy club occurred when I recognized my ability to become self-aware had increased (I haven't become fully self aware, but, knowing what that means is a valuable step).  Membership brought with it the knowledge that all of these insights were available to everyone who can read.

              Knowledge about knowledge can be meta-knowledge, but it also can be an awareness that everything labeled "philosophical theory or concept" (which I might/might not be able to understand in whole or part) is no different than a single informative sentence.  Because we all know a paragraph will provide more information.  Which leads us to realize that an entire book would be much more informative.  Then we see an entire shelf of books and wonder about the quantity and quality of all that additional information.  Stepping back, we are now far enough away to observe the entire library and realize there are (and were) more library's nearby.  (Library's which are filled with information, library's which were burned to the ground a while ago, as well as library's which were burned to the ground before any author/translator was able to read what all those very-long-dead old men had thought about long and hard enough to write it all down.)

              There will never be completion when it comes to knowledge.  Every theory and concept and idea comes from reading about theories and concepts and ideas.  The result of my studying various types of philosophy isit transformed me from a person of average intelligence into a wise person.

              A wise person once said, "referring to oneself as an artist requires a punishable amount of hubris."

              What an astute phrase within an ironic sentence (since I just made it up).  More accurately, I assume I just compiled the above seventeen words and four punctuation marks into an order, which no person compiled them into before.  I'm not saying the concept is novel.  Certainly, some hundreds or thousands (millions?) of people have already said, or written, about the terms wise and artist in conjunction with hubris.  I may even have heard or read them.  However like George Harrison writing My Sweet LordI have no awareness of He's So Fine in my consciousness, as I type.

              The building blocks of my sentence are both words and ideas.

              I learned, at UW-Milwaukee, that most creative people did not refer to themselves using the term Artist.  Yes, we had gallery showings.  Yes, some of us profited from selling what we created.  But, artist was a compliment-label we reserved for others to use about us.

              Accordingly, when studying philosophical concepts, I learned that most extremely intelligent people did not refer to themselves using the term Wise.  Yes, they were successful authors.  Yes, they may be professors and may possess Doctorates in Philosophy.  But, wise was a compliment-label they reserved for others to use about them.

              I metrecentlya person who creates art and sells it in a gallery she owns and operates.  She constantly refers to herself as an artist.  She also insists, with the bulldozing personality of a stage performer, that other creatives must self-anoint, proclaim, and metaphorically tattoo the word ARTIST somewhere prominent for the world to always read.

              Although I consider her artistic, and can see passion in her work, she is not wise.  She is neither humble nor modest, nor does she possess the inaction firmly wedged between humility and modestly.  Instead, she suffers from an inability to get out of her own way.  She is a business-woman.  She is an activist.  She is not an artist.

    Lose Weight the Hard-Simple Way (Notes on Keto, IMF, A-fib and Insulin Resistance)

              At the end of 2018, I recognized the common early warning signs for insulin resistance.  Over the previous five years, my thirst had increased until—ten months ago—I realized that it was waking me up to urinate/drink more water.  Also, I noticed a significant increase in my heart rate and blood pressure after meals.  About the same time, I noticed I could have an uneven heartbeat (arterial fibrillation/a-fib), which was intermittent and unrelated to meals, exercise, activity level, or anything I could determine by experimentation.

              My a-fib was not directly related to my insulin resistance.  My entire life I'd eaten (by default) a low-salt diet.  Once I learned how much salt, magnesium (Mg) and potassium (K) that my body needed (and wasn't getting) for normal cellular electrical function, I fixed my a-fib with Himalayan salt tablets (2-4 grams/day), Mg (1,500-4,000mg/day) and K (1150-1450mg/day).  All routine muscle cramps and twitches also disappeared along with the a-fib (except when I skip a few days of minerals to test it).

               What follows is a synopsis of my research and subsequent actions, which will - hopefully - save you the many hours I spent reading books and the internet.  Bullet points have been used to simplify the information.  I've followed the bullet points with some slightly-denser paragraphs.

    • All digested food = water, protein, fat, carbohydrates and vitamins/minerals.
    • Healthy bodies require (daily) = water, protein, fat and minerals.
    • There is no minimum daily carbohydrate (carb) requirement.  
    • The small intestine turns carbs/sugars (and any excess proteins) into bio-available glucose.
    • Glucose is used by the liver to quickly provide fuel to the body's cells. 
    • Glucose causes insulin to be created by the pancreas.
    • Insulin attaches to glucose and "unlocks" the "door" of energy-starved cells.
    • Proteins become amino acids, which are used to build/repair cells.
    • Fats (in the absence of glucose/insulin) become ketones to fuel the body's cells.
    • Fats (in the presence of glucose/insulin) are stored.
    • Insulin is a hormone which encourages fat storage and prevents fat burning.
    • When insulin is absent the pancreas creates the hormone glucagon to start fat burning.
    • Eat/snack carbs/sugars throughout the day = pancreas constantly releases insulin.
    • Insulin resistance = "the locks" on energy-starved cells become "jammed".
    • Exercise the body when insulin is present = build muscle (without losing energy).
    • Exercise the body when insulin is absent = burn more fat (but get tired faster).
    • The liver (and other organs) store about 24-48 hours of glucose for immediate use.
    • No carbs/sugar for 48+ hours = liver fuels the body's cells with stored fat (using ketones).
    • Insulin Resistance has been mislabeled as Type 2 Diabetes.
    • Type 1 Diabetes = pancreas produces none or insufficient amount of insulin.
    • Type 2 Diabetes = pancreas produces plenty of insulin but the cells demand more. 
             Shocking Fact #1:  There's no such thing as “Heart Disease.”  This came as a surprise, since my family tree is full of dead branches of male ancestors who died of it — my dad, Leverett:  heart attack while driving; Papa, Milton Bullard:  heart attack while sleeping; Great Grampy, Milton’s dad:  heart attack while rowing — and the list goes on.

              Doctors use the label Heart Disease as a catch-all for a group of symptoms that are merely a list of risk-factors for a person's potential future heart attack.  What all of the men in my family (and tens of millions of other people on Earth) probably died of, is actually Un-diagnosed Insulin Resistance / Type 2 Diabetes.

              Many people’s pancreas successfully continues to make more and more insulin whenever the body demands more and more of it to fuel their cells.  And — here is the important part — some people exhibit no symptoms or the symptoms happen so gradually that they go unnoticed or, since there is no pain involved, many people postpone taking action until it is too late.

              Most important fact I learnedInsulin Resistance/Type 2 Diabetes is curable because the body does not have to use very much insulin.  That came as big news to me.  Contrary to the food pyramid, there are no minimum daily requirements for carbohydrates or sugars.  There are only minimum requirements for protein, fat, and a few minerals – none for carbs/sugars.  Every cell has two entryways (a metaphor) for getting fuel for cellular energy: the cell’s front door and the cell’s back door (door metaphors).

              The Cell’s Front Door:  Insulin is required.  This is the simplest and easiest way for the body to fuel cells.  It’s the body’s path-of-least-resistance, because there are less chemical processes needed when consuming carbs (and logical in a evolutionary context: encourage fat storage while eating rare and difficult to find, very tasty, high-energy fruits).  The small intestine breaks down carbohydrates and refined sugars into bio-available sugars, which enters the bloodstream and causes the pancreas to produce insulin.  The insulin carries that bio-available sugar to energy-depleted cells, and then acts like a key—unlocking the door to the cell—which allows the bio-available sugar-fuel to enter.  And (sticking with this metaphor) each time insulin opens a cell’s door the lock on that door can become slightly worn.

              Insulin resistance is simply fuel-starved cells signaling their locks are getting worn out, and more insulin will be needed to unlock their doors; the pancreas responds by dumping more insulin into the bloodstream.  (And when that’s insufficient, doctors prescribe insulin pills and then injections of more insulin.  These are the same doctors who will never say, “Just switch the type of fuel that you are using to fuel your cells.”)

              The Cell's Back Door:  The less simple and harder way for the body to fuel cells is for the small intestine to contain no carbohydrates or refined sugars, which causes the pancreas to not produce the hormone insulin and, instead, produce the hormone glucagon.  When glucagon is present, the liver dumps its stored bio-available sugars into the bloodstream, and after all stored bio-available sugars are depleted (in a few hours or days) the liver signals the fats cells in the body to fuel the cells.  It does this by creating ketone bodies.

              These ketones carry fat from consumed food, and (eventually) from the body’s stored fat, to fuel the cells instead of using glucose from carbs.  The evolutionary impulse to “find, eat, and store all the sweet food so as to never deplete one’s reserve fuel tank because Winter Is Coming,” was—until refrigerators—the basis for human survival.  Now it is the basis for insulin resistance.      

             Curing insulin resistance is a very-hard-simple act.

    How to Begin the Keto Diet - Step 1 – For about three weeks (give or take, depends on how often you succumb to sugar cravings) you need to eat no sugar or carbohydrates.  Zero carbs.  Eat as much protein and fat as you want.  Don’t count calories.  No vegetables except a moderate amount of avocados and greens with coconut MCT oil or avacado oil.  No fruits.  No nuts.  Just eat fatty meat, eggs, and cheeses and good fats.

    Every time you eat any sugar/carbs (which includes the milk in your coffee and the greens in your salad) your liver will store it as bio-available sugar.  As long as it is a small amount, you can still go into ketosis.  And - if you are in full ketosis, you'll know it when you no longer feel hungry, have no food cravings, and only feel empty after hours of no food.

    If - after days of eating only meat and dairy - you still have cravings and hunger?  You are consuming something you assumed had no sugar.  Alcohol = sugar.  One of your daily supplements may advertise as sugar-free; read the label: many sugar substitutes, like maltodextrin, make the pancreas create more insulin than sugar does.  I recommend using only liquid stevia extract as a sweetener.

    Typical keto meals:  eggs, bacon and a whole avocado with coffee with heavy cream, and some drops of liquid stevia; a big hamburger patty, double cheese, fried egg on top, greens with coconut aioli, seltzer water with stevia; a steak with blue cheese and butter, a whole avacado and tea with no sweetener.  The first few days are the most challenging.  Your brain wants the carbs/sugars and it will tell your stomach very loudly that you need, must, get sugars.  Just snack on some pork rinds or some deli meat and cheese or another coffee with heavy cream.

    Supplements - Because, on keto, you're never eating enough vegetables or fruits, and you probably weren't getting enough of many of these from the American Diet anyway:  Psyllium fiber pills; Multi-B vitamin; Zinc; Vitamin K (help calcium from heavy cream and cheese get out of my bloodstream); Vitamin D (absorption of other minerals and mood enhancement), Butyric Acid (large intestine health); Omega 3s (skin and cellular health), Turmeric (anti-inflammatory), Garlic (aids in the reduction of arterial plaque); CoQ10 (heart enzyme); apple cider vinegar pills (aids in digestion of all these fuckin pills).  

    Step 2 - For the next three months you need to maintain less than a one-meal a week carb or sugar cheat meal limit (never a one day a week).  You are now, also gradually, going to pay attention to calories.  Counting calories is not really necessary, just use common sense.  You are going to eat less because you are less hungry and your body is not craving carbs anymore.

              I recommend a cheat meal once a month.  It's needed so you can experiment with how you feel; how insulin resistant or fat adapted have you become?  If you're doing this only to lose weight, then how much weight do you not lose the week of your cheat meal compared to a week of no cheat meal? 

              This is combined with a gradual phase-in of intermittent fasting (IMF).  This means you need to, slowly, reduce your daily eating/snacking from all day, to eating only within a 4 hour window.  Water, clear diet fluids, or coffee with stevia, are the only things you drink outside of an ever diminishing window of time.  Begin with 12 hours, and reduce it by 2 hours every few weeks until you feed yourself during a 4-hour time window.

              I should go into detail as to why experimenting with long term fasting is the next step.  But, since I don’t consider it a mandatory next step, I will just call this paragraph "Step 2.5"  Your body contains tiny, microscopic, filaments lining the interior walls of all of its arteries.  When we eat, something damages those filaments (research has not determined what hormone or chemical does the damage and some researchers completely deny it happens or that food is the cause).  When we don’t eat they, reportedly, grow back.  When we eat constantly they never grow back and the linings of our arteries eventually get tiny scars and long-term constant eating causes plaque to build up around those scars.  So when you reduce your eating window to 4 hours a day the filaments can grow back.  If you skip consuming anything that can cause the release of insulin for 24 hours (to a maximum of 48 hours) all filaments definitely grow back and autophagy begins.  Autophagy is what it sounds like: the body eating itself - and it is a good thing to do about once a month, because it means the pancreas has depleted glucagon and the body begins to do some "house cleaning" by consuming dead/damaged cells.  I say this step is not mandatory because it is just a way of pushing off a heart attack for a few years or decades.  You can not measure if it is (was) effective until you are crazy old and still alive.

    Step 3 – You are now about nine months into your keto lifestyle.  You have – guarantee – lost at least 20% of your body mass.  You have not done much exercise, if any (it's only necessary if you enjoy it or are in some kind of hurry to lose weight).  Your insulin resistance is almost completely gone now.  You are no longer thirsty and - in fact - need to remind yourself to drink water.  You no longer get insulin spikes after meals (except on cheat meals when you consume too many carbs).  You are now comfortable ordering at restaurants (meat, salad, eggs, cheese, add avocado on everything, diet drinks or seltzer with your own stevia drops).  You can skip a day of food when you decide to.  You can also have a huge cheat meal on your birthday or when the occasion calls for it. 

    Step 4 – There is not really another step (unless you count eating this way for the rest of your life as a step).  If you want to continue to lose more weight than the current weight you've become = eat less cheat meals.  If you are comfortable with your level of insulin resistance = eat cheat meals more often (recommend keeping a 4 - 6 hour eating window and continuing to skip a day or two of eating at least once a month).  Most important:  pay attention to how your body feels when you eat, after you eat, and during the hours you are fasting – remember how your body felt when you would eat many times a day with snacks, and how you slept then, and how much joint pain you had then, and compare it to how you feel now.

    POSTSCRIPT - If I ever had any faith in any medical professional, routine tests would have resulted in prescriptions (for statins and insulin), I would have been instructed “eat less and exercise more,” and provided a less-than-worthless menu-plan prescribed by the American Diabetes Association, based on the Food Pyramid (which is how I got insulin resistance in the first place).  And, for my a-fib, doctors may have recommended invasive surgery to shock my heart back into regular rhythm (based on guidance from the American Heart Association).

              Because I'm retired military, none of that health care would have cost me anything in dollars, just in life-expectancy.  I know people who pay serious money for their insulin (tens of thousands of dollars a year) and one person who had his heart shocked into normal rhythm (a few thousand; but it needed to be re-done a few months later). . .which is the primary reason your doctor will deny any of this is based on valid research and will never recommend ketosis, IMF, and autophagy as ways for you to cure yourself.  Because - how can they profit from that advice? 

              With all that said, the only real way to know if this is/was an effective way to lose weight and avoid insulin resistance - for you - is to try it out.  For me, it's to step on the scales and look in the mirror;  In 8 months I lost 50 lbs and 6 waistline-inches.  And, in the future - if I'm still here - then I have not followed in my male ancestor's footsteps (because I diagnosed my insulin resistance, became fat adapted, fixed my a-fib, and the practice of IMF and autophagy has postponed the inevitable, which is a great title for an essay about Amor Fati and Memento Mori:  My Inevitable Demise).  

    A Simple Exercise in Rational Thinking


            
              Do you understand what it is to think rationally?

              By that, I'm not asking if you know the definition of rational thought; I'm asking you to describe the feeling, the emotional impact, of your mind's effect on your body when you examine a series of facts and, consequently, draw a logical conclusion—the result of which is a novel idea (for your brain). 

              When you mentally examine something complex, which you've not considered before (but others, obviously, have) do you have a 'eureka moment'?  Or, do you just store this new-to-you information and mentally move on?  Is there a last-puzzle-piece-falling-into-place feeling of pleasure-adrenaline?  Do you get an inner smile?

              Let me give you an example.  Each of the following numbered statements are factually true. 
    1.      You had no control over when, or where, you were born.
    2.      Your parents had no control over when/where they were born.
    3.      No mammal controls when/where it's born.  Life on earth can be dated to three billion years ago. 
    4.      Our planet is about four billion years old.  It is about a million times smaller than the sun. 
    5.      The sun is about five billion years old.  It is one star in a galaxy of at least a hundred billion others. 
    6.      Our galaxy is about 14 billion years old.  It is one galaxy in an observable universe of trillions.
    7.      The observable universe is only about 100 million years older than our galaxy.   Because of the speed of light and the continual expansion of space (over those 14 billion years) the farthest point of light we can see, today, is approximately 46 billion light-years away; the light from everything further away hasn't had time to reach us yet.
              The only rational conclusion to be made from this list:  The universe is infinite.  It goes on in all directions—forever; filled with an infinite number of galaxies, solar systems, stars, planets, and life which had no control over when or where in the vast infinity of space and time they were were formed (were born).

              I came to this conclusion because our location in the universe is completely arbitrary.  Humans did not choose to make earth their home, no more than the earth chose it's placement around the sun, or the sun chose it's placement in the milky way, or the milky way chose its placement in existence.

              Right this moment, as you're reading these words, if you raise your left hand and point, a zillion-and-a-half light years away in that exact direction is another intelligent person.  Xhe is exponentially smarter than you and I (because life can be dated to seven billion years ago on xer planet).  None-the-less, xhe did not control when/where xhe was born.  Right now, xhe is also contemplating xer observable universe (which is also 46 billion light-years away from xer arbitrary location in the entire universe).  You and Tgja (that's what xer name sounds like to human ears) are alive at exactly the same moment in time, in the infinite existence of space, but our two observable universe's will never overlap.  Our two planets have never, and will never, share one single point of light in each of our respective night skies.

              Oh, and one final answer to that question you had from the last paragraph:  it's because xer entire species put hubris behind them and stopped thinking about themselves as the center of all existence when they stopped believing in anything they could not prove with mathematics (over 27 thousand years ago).  That was the time when Tgja's species began treating those who claimed to know something which couldn't be rationally proven, using simple logic, as mentally damaged.  Back then, they'd kindly offer those lesser individuals a kind facial grimace (xhe would call it a smile, we—if we could see it—would never refer to it as such) before they reported the defective individual (whom they referred to as 'idiot') for re-education.

     

    more complex stuff:

    conformity (accidental vs intentional)

    valuable values

    claims about god(s)