Showing posts with label personal perspectives. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal perspectives. Show all posts

Station Skepticism

 
        Alone, with no external encouragement or assistance, a toddler does something novel.  New neuron connections are electric-vibration-ally "made".  With repetition, the toddler's memory causes neuron-pathways to become "strengthened".  Since this toddler exists in the constantly new moment where every thing is a first thing; they, consequently, spend no time congratulating themself for stumbling their first step or mumbling their first word because they'd intended to walk across the playpen or ask to be taken out of it.  So—from their perspectivethey failed to accomplish their goal.
 
        Spin that smallish human's odometer.
 
        Everyday becomes every week.  Months turn into years of almost or just-barely accomplishing the goal-at-hand while continually doing something novel.  On your own.  With no direction or help from others.  And then you stop.  And ponder the 'no instructions' label.  Is the reverse side of the label a space for you to scrawl notes to your future self? 

        Can you recall deciding to explore what the no-path direction had in store for you?
        When was your first foray into breaking brush?
        How soon did you teach yourself to only advance in a safe, terrain-hugging, instinctual manner?
        Where was your punishment training self delivered and self enforced?
        What made it become (eventually) self desired and self endorsed?
        Who's eventuality caused your inundating disdain tsunami to ripple, falter, and fall apart?
 
        This bench was installed on the side of the path, facing in this direction, by some one (or group of someones) who considered there would be othersfuture otherswho would appreciate a rest at some point during their hike.  The bench installer(s) decided this location would be optimal for that.  Assuredly, they-themself(ves) once sat here (or still sit here).  And.  Even if the bench was built by conservation corp students, the benefactor(s) and the builder(s) must-have all sat here, for at least a few relaxing seconds to mentally congratulate themself(ves) on their just-accomplished goal.
 
        A different goal became an accomplishment for you, today, because you successfully climbed walked all the way to this bench without having to stop and catch your breath.
 
        This only feels like an memorable accomplishment from your perspective.  To you.  Not to the zen-hiker ahead, who's never had one un-synchronized breath go awry.  No, not to them.  And.  Never to the hoard of beyond ear-range delivery-drivers, unaware of their unawareness, streaming along the congested highway far below.  That contented multitude never thinks about the motivations of the odd few who catch up to their breath.  On a bench.  Along a steep path.  Out of earshot.  Surrounded by birdsong, tree-breeze and slowing heartbeats.      
 
        Still.  The reverse-side of the manufacturer's no-instructions label, belonging to the aged human with the still-spinning odometer, now bears a few handwritten notes.  Cryptic ones (except to yourself).
 
        Countless believe their odometer measures solar or lunar cycles.
        Some claim everyone's odometers will keep clicking even after they roll-over.
        Many still advocate for traditional ancestral beliefsthat odometers just measure distance travelled—because spacetime is not a concept their ancestors were aware of.
        You're pretty certain your odometer measures breaths.  Because you've learned to watch it slow.   And you've taught yourself to catch it.  At times, on a path bench. 
 
 

pretty sleepy; but now-me has a few moments of lucidity

 
         I've struggled with behinding-me from the personas and personalities of those who met the past beforing-me.  Some felt-expect there must-exist an [un-felt by always-me] emotion-obligation that they were the superior-queen and could-will-would treat me as a subordinate-serf.  Those people (mostly family) expected beforeing-me to pass this paradigm along to my spawn and they to theirs (with a wink to Z; the judge of that successful-failure?).
 
        Others chose to become friends with an introverted-nerd, which did not always mean that they recognized something of themselves in beforeing-me.  Introverted-nerd "friends" rarely remain lifelong-close in my book (outside of fictional stories and overlapping common interests).
 
        An inordinate number utilized the "subterfuge cloak" of their covert narcissistic persona (or that of their partner) to "become friends".  Those emotional bullies had already taught themselves (or were taught by their own superior-queen) that the persona most useful for a superior-princesses is a subordinate-serf who grew up under a superior-queen. 

        The one last persona, who struggles to come to terms with now-me, are those who struggle with using imagination.  I almost wrote 'their imagination' but that would imply they have constant and easy access to the ability to run their own mind-movies for entertainment and self-instruction.  The name for that trait is [insert sciency word none remember after reading].  People with [word] do not know what it means to "use your imagination" any more than a colorblind golfer 'knows' how to see an orange Titleist in the fairway.  What the imagination-less can understand is blunt directness.
 
        [pause for effect]  But here is the rub:  They were taught by someone to interpret blunt directness as rudeness.  Which it is—to those who understand metaphor.  Since analogies are "lost on them" and bluntness has always been "taken the wrong way," today-me finds itself between a proverbial rock and hard place.
 
        On The One Hand:  I tell no-imagination-nation that the persona you once interacted with has left the building.   My intend interpretation is for those few people who think the before-me and the today-me are the same-me (because I look the same and my voice is similar) to think about the original clichΓ©, "Elvis has left the building!" (Which was said to every Elvis concert-audience so they'd stop ovation-ing and go home) and interpret it as the most harmless communication available to today-me.  My previous experience expects that they will just negative emotion-obligation interpret it as me, condescendingly, going no contact.
 
        On The Other Hand:  Is it possible "going no contact" is only difficult (for always-you) because of your own emotion-obligation interpretation?  Recognize, if you can, the impulse steering/driving you away from even the appearance of thinking of yourself, as superior?  YOU?  You Are A Serf!  Behave like you were programmed!

        Do do do da da da is all I want to say to today-you . . . it's meaningless . . . and all that's true.
 
        Always-you doesn't need to always make yourself feel the impulse of negative emotion when your behavior might cause someone else to—maybe—blame you for making them feel a negative emotion.  This emotion is only a safeguard.  You can (from-now-on-and-forevermore) recognize the safeguard as related to 'behaving condescendingly' and choose to sometimes allow it.  There are going to be more and more future times (as today-me improves itself to become a better tomorrow-me) when your future-selves possess a superior state of awareness compared to your today-self.  Allow always-you to grow beyond any and all wrongfully instilled safeguards.  
 
        On The Third Hand:  Today-you has every responsibility to think of your today-me, and all potential future-me's, as superior to every-all of your before-me's.  When today-you avoids actions (and decisions leading to future actions) which would be rationalizations-of, or excuses-for, future actions that tomorrow-me would definitely consider hypocritical—you are remaining aware of your self-drive to be better.  For yourself.  Every instance where you prove, to yourself-in-the-moment, that you aren't a hypocrite is one more reason to feel superior to the you that you might have become if you weren't able to remain aware of your self-drive guiding today-you toward a better future-you.

       Your 'creative persona' (which seizes control whenever it is allowed) directs your attention to focus on the quantity of positive qualia present, as well as it's (your) ever-constant self-goal-challenge of striving toward a noticeable improvement in quality until satisfaction eventually becomes contentment.  [A prerequisite of this self-goal:  Possessing the capability to imagine what satisfied-and-contented would feel like; recognizing the satisfied-contented experience while it is happening; and evaluating satisfactory-contentment as a memory (which is what recalling what it felt-like feels like).]

        Future-present-past would feel-feels-felt is an invaluable measuring tool to teach yourself.  If there is one thing to take away from these paragraphs, this is it.  Pick a thing that you imagine you would feel if that thing were to occur in your presence.  Orchestrate events so it happens.  Pay close attention to how your emotions react in the moment.  Reflect on those emotions.  Rinse and repeat (with refinement in expectations, reactions, and reflections as needed and desired).




Response to Well-Wishers

 

        When wishing someone a pleasant weekend it is "taken as a given" that they (like everyone, the well-wisher wrongfully assumes) must look-forward-to and enjoy experiencing the days of not laboring or of working to earn their living more than they enjoy their workweek.  Those who are comfortably retired—or that rare-someone who greatly enjoys the passion of their labors more than the the painful days spent away from their work—are still capable of understanding the glad-tidings as they were intended; and replying with a perfunctory 'thank you, you-too'.
 
        However, my autism gets rattled when receiving a "Happy Thanksgiving!" demand, or a query of "What are your plans for Turkey Day?"  
 
        Because of a difficult to explain state-of-mind (ever-present in always-me) I find it extremely difficult to accept these glad tidings in the same manner.  
 
        Before-me replied, years-ago, with words of this nature:
        "We don't celebrate the fourth Thursday of November.  My partner is Native American.  My ancestors tried really-hard to genocidally-murder all of her ancestors.  Then, after my ancestors didn't completely succeed, they forcefully subjugated, second-class citizen-ed, and supported many institutional prejudices, all of which were inflicted upon every single one of her surviving ancestors (up-to and including her and her immediate family).  Celebrating Thanksgiving Day was created by, and for, the sons and daughters of former colonizers and slave owners.  It's an entrenched institutionalized prejudice. 

        So...it seems...?...that this would be a hypocritical thing for anyone to turn a blind-eye toward.  For me.  For her.  For you.  And for you to indoctrinate your kids into.  Or, do you 'choose not to think' of the holiday in this manner?  Because that intentional choice is you behaving intentionally as a hypocrite.  Full disclosure: I didn't celebrate it before I met my partner; just one of many reasons we're simpatico."
        Now-me, this year, replied, "We don't celebrate" full stop.  I now understand that elaborating (with intentionally spiky "reasons") was pushing buttons and stirring the pot, but was mostly something I had once said in order to make then-me feel superior.   That former behavior of mine was ineffectual, conflict-causing, and behavior which in-itself was a hypocritical way of behaving.  I didn't know then what I know about myself now.  
 
        By writing this here, in my journal, it's up to you.  All of it.  I have no designed-ability to feel superior and don't have any way to know who—if anyone—reads this and then makes a lasting decision to find a reasonable restaurant owned/operated by fellow non-celebrants (at time of writing, it's mostly Asian food) which is willing to remain open on the last fourth Thursday of November, and reply with a 'we don't celebrate' of your own.


past beatings of a dead horse:
 

symbol transliteration

 


         γƒŸ᯾          
                                        Explanations for The Double-Slit Experiment (DSE) can be found where most explanations are commonly located.  Although most would prefer a science communicator to distill the results of these experiments down in a simple TicTok, any level of brevity or synopsis removes most-of (all) the crucial-for-understanding details (e.g. quantum probability, electrons, protons, mass, gravity, particles, waveform interference patterns, and information measurement). 
 
Spend any amount of time studying the DSE's results and their outcomes (of novice and quantum-physicist alike) results in either confusion and/or disbelief.  Because, of course, how else could the phrase, 'The particle—once measuredgoes back in time to its point of origin and subsequently appears as if it was always a wave and never a particle' be thought of?  If you aren't confused, what you don't understand is that it's not just an experiment which appears to reveal particles of light-energy travelling backwards in time, but that those particles are doing-so at faster than the speed of light.  Two impossibilities in physics at the same time is, normally, reason to conclude an huge error in the experiment. 
 
        α―£  α¦’
                                        The neuron cells of everything with a centralized collection of ganglia (or a brain) collects "experiences" which were correlated with an emotion that was "felt" by the body.  Emotions are caused by a mixture of gland-releasing chemicals in the organism's nervous system.  The stronger the emotion, the stronger the memory; strong memories are easily and readily recalled and subsequently reinforced (and re-reinforced).
 
The brain's subconscious (mistakenly referred-to as its right-half because the speech-center is located in most human's left lobe) is capable of making connections, contemplating ideas, weighing options, and making mental, non-verbal "suggestions" (at all times, not just when the conscious-brain is resting).  Most human's conscious-brain can not "recognize" their sub-conscious "at work"; instead, we source those ideas as coming from our intuition.
 
 
          π©˜π‘π©•

                                        Each spermatozoa and every ovum contain one strand (a half-strand of DNA) comprised of a random portion of that individual's DNA.  Consequently, spermatozoa and ovum are each "coded" for a slightly different combination of characteristics.  Every fertilized egg divides exponentially as each of the cells grows according to the combination of that random portion's "coding".

Evolution (mistakenly referred-to as survival of the fittest) can be easily identified when an animal's society (or culture) incentivizes specific characteristics over others.  If a specific eye-color or body-size or strength or wing-span is favored by enough of a species, for multiple generations, those selectively chosen-for traits or characteristics are said to have "evolved" to become dominant.


more or less:

spock-hold mind-meld

you build your personas

  

Blindxpot

[Say:  Blie-N-sz-Paht; Go On Glossary, Appendix πˆ‚]
 
    Within the "Every Thing is a Mind Thing" realm:  a blindxpot is considered the mental-memory equivalent of the mental-vision's blindspot (at the juncture of optic-nerve and retinal visual field).
 
   Blindxpots are normally caused by glitches in long-term and working-memory.  Since almost all memories are stored in both brain hemispheres and across multiple lobes, blindxpots occur almost exclusively in memories which were supposed to be stored in one lobe of one hemisphere.  (This suppose-ing is normally done because of one or more associated memories located in different areas of the brain.)
 
    The neighbor's name was saved when they introduced themselves.  Later: the neighbor's face, voice, stories, vehicle, odors, and behaviors are easily recollected by you.  Their name is nowhere to be found.  Label names are stored in one specific lobe.  This blindxpot exists because it seems easier (for most of us) to adopt the: sorry, I'm terrible with names behavior, than to spend several deliberate seconds, or a couple minutes, focusing on:
        stop all engagement (including active listening) 
        take the mental label maker from long-term storage (blow the dust off)
        lock-in this new label with this new item -
                if new label is already associated with an existing item (beige name)
                            identify "hook" to hang it on (e.g. Greyhound Charles)
                if new label is novel, confusing, or multi-syllabic (e.g. Veach name)
                            identify reason for confusion ("¿spell that for me please?")
        recall and confirm new label after a relatively significant quantity of time lapses
    Just as it's possible to "find" your blindspot (with one eye open and a pencil eraser held at arm's length) "discovering" a blindxpot, will always be accompanied by the unexpected "surprise" of the naΓ―veevery time.  Someone considered 'always too optimistic' may have a intellectually incurious blindxpot for challenges, pitfalls, and faults.  Similarly, constant angry pessimist's may have a serendipitous advantage blindxpot.   
 
        Identify an irritating behavior disliked in otherseven though it's a behavior observed in oneself:  I denounce those who ____blank____ more than I do.  {I've chosen 'stare at their phones' as an example.} 
    
        a)    Continue to hold a critical opinion of others, while rationalizing away all self-criticism.  {Solid blindxpot.}
 
        b)    Evaluate the behavior and its accompanying hypocrisy and decide to accept it in everyone.  I'm not proud that I always stare at my phone just like everyone else.  {Good first step; you are no longer a hypocrite.  But, look around.  Are there ever people you might interact with (or who would interact with you) if you put away your phone?}
 
        c)    Change the behavior.  Treat it like a taboo or a disapproved-of vice.  I erased Apps or I leave it (in airplane mode, off, home, or in my pocket) unless I'm totally alone in privateWhen no longer alone, I immediately close my phone.  {Blindxpot removed.}  
 
    Each eye's blindspot is "covered" by the other eye, with binocular vision.  Accordingly, we rarely remember that our blindspots exist and never explain (or recognize) our failure to see something as caused by it being in our ocular-blindspot.
 
    Recognizing one's blindxpots is best accomplished during contemplative meditation.  
 
        a)    Set a timer (on your airplane-mode device) for one hour; sit somewhere comfortable; close your eyes.
 
        b)    Ask yourself, "Do I have a blindxpot, which—if identified—I might decide to change?"  Ponder the thoughts which arise from your prompt.
  
        c)    Once you realize a blindxpot, ask yourself, "If I remove this blindxpot will I and those around me be happier?"
 
፨ 
 
fodder for fans:
 
 
 

Vermont Car Show (people watching)

 
    "What's class number twenty-six?"  asked the man who had just read the official 66th Annual Vermont Antique Car Show document, displayed on the dash of my 2015 smart fortwo.  (The card read: Class #26: Display Only, special interest groups 1989-2023, not judged.)  I did not stand up from my lounge chair to greet him.  Instead, I merely said, 'not judged' from the comfort of the portable screened gazebo I'd put in the back of my stall, behind the tiny car.
 
    He walked with a stiff posture, carried around some permanently crinkled face muscles, and talked with a bully's 'searching-for-someone-who-deserves-it' demeanor.  "What's with this snapperhead?" he indicated towards my license plate.
 
    "That's related to my artwork."
 
    His sneer-scoff was just noticeable as a nose-twitch-lip-curl as he came towards the gazebo's zipper-door and said, "You're an artist.  What kind of art do you do?"
 
    I got up and said, "Like this image." As I exited the shade, patting my chest, he stared at me too long because (I think) he couldn't tell if I was holding eye-contact, because I was wearing ultra-dark mountaineering sunglasses with side-shields (which relaxed my Asperger-desire to look away from faces).  He could, however, read my smile, easy attitude, close-trimmed full-white beard, and colorful hat.
 
    He glanced longer than necessary at the abstract splash-type of shape (the color of faded-blood) on my hoodie.  "Some weird shit.  Don't get it.  I guess it's not..."
 
    I intentionally cut him off:  "New England.  It's the outline of New England."
 
    "Bullshit."  He batted my statement down with a waist-level flap of wrist.
 
    I tipped my head to the left and said, "Not everyone can see it."
 
    "Oh, I see it.  It's just.  That's not art."
 
    "Not everyone likes what I create.  That's their prerogative."  I said, turning and zipping myself back inside my bug-free shade.
 
፨  ፨ 
 
     "I would like to thank you so much for being here today.  I love-love-love that you've displayed it all.  And done it this way.  I love it so much!  It looks almost like the car might fit inside the pop-up?  Is it one of those tents that goes up in seconds?"  The energetic lady, comfortably dressed, comfortable in her middle-age, asked as she took out a phone and photographed the black-on-grey trademark logo [Quick-Set by Clam].
 
    "Thank you.  Yes, it does only take a couple minutes to put up.  The car might fit inside, but the front-end will stick out a foot or so because this is the six-foot gazebo."  As I talked she leaned inside the top-down convertible and said/asked what everyone says/asks: ...Didn't know they made a convertible; more room inside than imagined; thought all smart cars were electric; are highway-speeds safe; how much would a used one cost; is winter driving feasible... et cetera.  I answered questions and thought I recognized a fellow-Asperger's by her obvious non-conformist streak.
 
 ፨  ፨ 
 
    Not all of "us" are intentionally non-conformists.  Some of "us" are unaware of certain types of "unspoken" societal or cultural norms (pertaining to behaviors, dress, attitudes, or appearance).  "We" can't choose to intentionally not conform with something in "our" blindxpot.
 
    As an example:  I was in the National Gallery of Art in DC when a distinguished professor (whom I had previously recognized as one of "us") laid down on the floor next to a series of Giacometti sculptures being displayed on several large, shin-to-knee, coffee table level pedestals.  He then raised his voice to a shout, proclaiming that the curators were idiots to have made it impossible to see these tiny, thin, bronze artworks without sitting or lying on the floor.  Docents descended on the shouting man dressed in crumpled disheveled as if he were a member of the unhoused-population.  He calmly explained himself and was steered towards a suggestion box.  Professor Carmody's protest was not rude non-conformity; it was just that: "how to behave in a museum" occupied a blindxpot.
 
፨  ፨     
 
     Before displaying my smart subcompact vehicle at a car show, which predominantly contained trucks, muscle cars, racers, hot-rods, and museum showpieces, I thought it would be admired as something very few people here, in Vermont, were familiar with.  I was parked not far from a pristine '91 Nissan Figaro (also a class #26; even though it looks like it's from the 1950s).  My blindxpot:  I had no idea there were so many people (predominantly male) who hate the idea my subcompact car suggests by its existence.
 
    I was booed with thumbs-down and middle-fingers up.  More than one person exclaimed they thought it was visually ugly.  A man my age (red hat with four white letters) shouted as close to my face as tent-screen permitted, "WELCOME TO THE 21st CENTURY!!" (confusing; maybe he meant 20th).  It was referred to as a "nostalgia buzz-kill."  A child said, "we don't like this, do we Daddy?"  I received more than a handful of: "Well, don't you look comfy?" (oddly demeaning, but I was very comfy).  Another said in my direction (while pretending they were talking to the person they were with): "...more like a seedling-hugger, 'cause it's too small to hug a whole tree!"
 
    That last one was so good I intend to print a version of it on next year's hoodie.  Because (as regular readers don't need reminding) I am an intentional non-conformist.  While I enjoy exchanging ideas with the intellectually curious, I'm especially proud when my lack of conformity hits a nerve in conformists and their incurious comrades.
 
Don't get too comfy:
 
 

Mark The Date: Monday, 8 April 2024

    "Be somewhere in the path of totality with me."
 
    The next total solar eclipse is going to be almost 4 minutes in duration (according to NASA).  It will possibly be witness-able, in the afternoon of April 8th, during next year Vermont's Mud Season.  This means it has about a 50% chance of being hidden by clouds and/or rain here.
 
    This is something I would travel to witness.  It was so overwhelming in 2017, I am willing to travel to see it unobstructed; if weather forecasts, as the date approaches, indicate it would be more-probable to see in:  Rochester, Buffalo, Cleveland, or Indianapolis. 
 

 
 
For Consideration:
 
 
 

... Per•son•ae ...

 


    What follows may seem like an abundance of questions.  Answers are unrequested.
 
    In the non-place labelled  future this letter is a piece of detritus, caught in the allegorical dune fencing at the edge of the always-warm path, which cuts deep between the sand reeds to the shore.  For those few who encourage free-roam curiosity, this may provide them some ponder fodder.  Self evaluation.  A reason to step away from the thoroughfare and stir thru previously collected idea-fragments crumpled in a mental cubbyhole or naΓ―vely tossed-away as irrelevant by the persona they once built from scratch.  Without instructions.    
Every non-specific individual (a 'people-in-general' term, but not EVERYou) begins to compile their personality as an adolescent when they emulate certain traits and choose not to emulate others.  By early adulthood, those who were once constantly-bullied have adopted a completely different demeanor, future outlook, and baseline empathy than those who were once consistently-adored.

    Do you recognize your own persona?  Maybe it's easier to describe the personality of someone other than yourself?  When considering the collection of behaviors considered relevant-enough to include—when briefly describing the "normal behavior" of someone to someone else—there's no pocket sized rule-book to act as a guide.

    Although it is uncontroversial to state everyone "has" a personality, it's less acceptable to allege that everyone possesses a persona (as I'm doing here).  Jungian's consider the persona a false faΓ§ade or mask, presented to the external world as a defense mechanism or engaged to manipulate others.  In the psychologist's belief-system, "healthy" individuals have no (need for) personae.  That was never true.

    Some evidence: on-duty/work persona; online persona; frat-boy/rorty-gal personae; authority's watching persona; circle-of-trust persona; seductive persona; guardian-parent persona; team-member persona; implied-threat persona; dissociated persona; aloof persona; grand-master persona; sage persona; ingΓ©nue persona [¡this's but a mere fraction!].

    Someone you only met briefly, once, may have successfully displayed a persona which would be considered drastically at-odds with the default persona their friends-and-family recognize.  Another person may have already spent thousands of hours curating "their image" and, consequently, they are careful to present the same faΓ§ade to everyone (or, at least, everyone they are willing to introduce you to).  Your persona wears your costume, quotes from your script, displays your approved characteristics, and performs the role of "you" in your external every-day routine.

    There are other personae on your tool-belt and still others you store on a back shelf.  A common back-shelf persona:  Dragging your carry-on behind you, boarding pass in hand, mental checklist ruminating: did I takeout all liquids over 3oz?  You take out your authority is watching persona.  Your heart begins to race.  "take your driver's license out of ..."  "Yes, ma'am." comes the reply from your persona.

During their growing phase, some personae receive constant-criticism, consistent-disdain, or systemic-abuse.  Accordingly, some of these burgeoning personalities decide to reinforce certain characteristics or cherished behaviors into convictions.  And, (in an attempt to thwart these real or supposed, ever-looming, adversaries) these personae may resolve to permanently portray with absolute certainty that their convictions are righteously true.

    In the persona that is adamant about loudly trumpeting their strong convictions, either they don't realize their act of fanatically pretending to possess unquestioning certainty paints them into a corner, or they are incapable of placing significance on the ability to recognize the difference between rational and irrational behavior.

    The ability to recognize sanity is innate; in the sane.

    If you began what was presumed (at-the-time) would be a routine exchange of pleasantries with someone at a bus stop.  But came to realize that this someone, you were - now - addressing, was definitely not in possession of any societal guardrails or norms (relating to shame, decency, propriety, violence, or personal autonomy) and then—as the sinking feeling along your nape begins to chill-trickle: ¿how did my intuition fail to recognize a feral human animal from a distance?—this someone reveals that:

          They are mentally-disabled and, therefore, not able to recognize the society of laws with whom they are a member.  They are incapable of understanding abstract concepts (like reading).

          Their persona chose, years ago, to believe they are not a member of the society surrounding them.  They're adamant that, "...your spurious laws don't apply to sovereign people like me." 

    Do you draw a distinction?

    Is it a distinction in the empathy you imagine feeling for these someones?

    Is there a distinction in incarceration / hospitalization they deserve (assuming the same crime)?

    If no distinction:  how does "intent" factor-in to your discernment?

    Can you switch "roles" and picture predator's POV and then prey POV and back?  Again?

    Do you recognize a preference?  

    Why do you prefer? 

There are those who intentionally hold no convictions.  To the conviction-less, remaining aware of uncertainty indicates a versatile 'open-to-listening' persona.  Being always open-to-agreement with those open-to-discussing any-and-all topics, which anyone else is equally open-to—requires active listening.  Which requires asking questions.  Which requires practicing asking questions.

    Holding convictions is detrimental; no different than accepting any premise without first evaluating and questioning those who advocate for it.  As a direct consequence of this foundational truth, many non-specific individuals (the conviction-less EVERYou is one exception) are wary of all questions.  Or, too many questions.  Or, complex theosophical questions.

    For personas stocked with convictions, every query has the potential to expose their hollow value-systems and empty characters.  Those filled with various convictions are aware that they can never provide complete answers relating to why they behave the way their convictions instruct them to behave.  Also, all non-superficial conversations bring forward a substantial risk in alienating or damaging their relationship (or some as-yet-undetermined potential future relationship).

    A friend once told me this hypothetical (which is quite relevant):

"If I had been good-friends with OJ Simpson in the 1990s, and he took me aside and said, "I just snapped when I saw them together and went fuckin crazy!"  I'd have said, "Cool, wanna go golfing?"  But if he took me aside and said, "I sure hope they catch whoever did it."  I couldn't have remained friends with him."  - fan-fuckin-tastic quote of R.P.B.

    If people don't want to discover who their friends and family members truly are, because they're afraid to learn they stormed the capitol on Jan 6th, or refused mask wearing, or (flipping the script) want Trump sentenced, or Clarence Thomas impeached, is it because their personas are burdened with convictions they're incapable of questioning?

    •  Is it possible to have simple opinions, which seem grounded in rational reasons, but at-the-same-time, actually be really open to being convinced they (you) were wrong

      The real measure of a person is:  ¿How willing are they (you) to say, "This is my current opinion on this matter, but I'm so eager to learn something new (which I can get fully behind!) that I'll seriously consider adopting your opinion as my own, but first, I need to take measure of your current grasp on reality

    •  Tell me about your current persona • 

      Explain one of your convictions  

 

a long :

tunnelling between the ll's

back into yes ter year here

a person a 2 personae

     

Form Bonding (or, Why does it Work?)


        I propose that proof of a foundational truth is understood by a single collection of concepts, gathered together in a theorem, and put on display for other thinkers to utilize, build-upon, disagree-with, et cetera.
 
        My brain consists of three separate entities.
 
        For the purpose of this explanation, 'entities' should be thought-of as an 'analogy for programming or software'; it is important to think of these three entities as analogy for computer programs, because these separate entities can not be laid out on an autopsy table (not physical reality) and there is no programmer (because I'm using the convenience of a metaphor; I could have, just-as-easily, used the analogy of three separate people).
 
        The three entities have different-but-similar programs.  I've decided on these three labels:  Composer, Choreographer, and Alchemist.  [{(Alchemist wants to be recognized as fundamentally different and chose not to be Chemist, as the two others wished - for aestheticism's sake)}]

        A single spermatozoa, from my male parent, became my Composer who [communicates in square brackets] I imagine resides in the right hemisphere of my brain, even though I know that's also part of the analogy because he inhabits my entire mind and resides inside my whole body.
 
        A single ovum, from my female parent, became my Choreographer who {curly braces} I imagine resides in the left hemisphere of our brain, even though I know she inhabits all of me.
 
        Alchemist is (conscience) the tie-breaker.  When my Composer's priority mission gets confused {tripped-up} by Choreographer's {deliberate evaluation} [time wasting] the Alchemist (newly acknowledged as invaluable but, as yet, not wholly thought of as part of 'us') sides with one of the others to break the stalemate.
 
        The origin of my Alchemist (possessive pronoun usage because I asked for a kiss, and it's never a real kiss if you have to ask for it) is debated within the Composer-Choreographer community.  Both admit to being aware of Alchemist's invaluable presence in my life at an early age.

        Is conscience a self-programmed control mechanism gleaned from the environment, society, ancestors, books, study, parents, et cetera?  Or are we all born with a conscience?  Is it the non-dual?
We don't know.  {[One of us knows but has difficulty explaining or proving.]} (Isn't this explanation, proof enough?)

        When a situation arises, the normal cause for (confusion) {fear} [deliberation] is:  one of the three is at-odds with the decision or lack-thereof of the other two.
 
        Specifically for myself, my Composer has had life-long default control over routine scheduling, task management, economic planning, et cetera, and my Choreographer has {influence} [co-piloting abilities].  My Alchemist (progress!) has always had strong influence (over the non-inebriated self) and has exerted that over-all [censure] {encouragement} in key water-shed moments.  
 
        I think with all three elements.  {That sentence should have been in brackets, don't you concur Alchemist?} 
 
        (Getting into the weeds is not my shtick.  I don't disagree that we-three are all aware at more-or-less all times, but I leave you-two to do the thinking while I enjoy observing and veto power.  Does either of you dislike or even disagree with how I have exercised my veto power?  And, in this case, silence will be received as concurrance.)
 
        As you can see, there is a hierarchy.  Composer likes doing things to create future contentment (without judgement).  Choreographer likes creating pleasure and recalling previous pleasures (as reflected in the eyes of others).  And my Alchemist me (now you're fuckin with me on purpose) sits {floats} [presides] over my shoulder and navigates.  {[(yea,  that's accurate.)]} 
 
        Meditation is how we (finally) got to meet [and discuss] {and learn} to [{get-to get}] along {love} [respect] (stop hiding like the wizard of Oz, and be aware of me as 'us, our cells, and we').
 
        {[(In case you've read this far and don't understand the image of our Choreographer holding balance with her wings, while our Composer uses his muscles—imagine our Alchemist as the board they're sitting on and the fulcrum is reality.)]}
 
        Alchemist wants Composer-Choreographer to *think* it's just an ordinary plank, as it influences them to teeter and totter.  Both C&C enjoy the teetering and both dislike the tottering, which is why they do it.  Alchemist enjoys the entire process and recognizes the need for both.
 
        {Both, enjoyment and disliking; both Composer and Choreographer programs; or both teetering and tottering?}
 
        [Or is it all three at once?  Us-two 'programs' and our-the emotions which we *think* that we *feel* as well as the balancing game we play with Alchemist's support?  I'll assume silence is agreement.]
 
 

no wrest for the ick-ed:

 
 
         

        

News from Vermont (history repeats, 2023 chapter)

        Hey, hey . . . national news keeps "wringing" the Vermont is Flooding bells on-the-hour.  Erm howz things?
 
        Kinda nice.  It feels like watching the walls creeping in on the crew of Jedi's after they jumped into the trash compactor . . . only the walls a closing at about four inches an hour.  Same trash compactor from 2011 and same Jedi's who are now a dozen years older but no smarter.
 
        You're not under water, tho?  Right?
 
        Our apartment didn't get water damaged after Hurricane Irene in 2011, but the basement flooded, the streets flooded, and nobody could travel for days.  Clean-up lasted months and years all around the town and state.  No way to know if tomorrow or the next week will be worse or better.

        What causes it to happen in Vermont of all places?

        Mountains.  A state of mountains is a state of valleys.  Every valley contains a river fed by the creeks and streams coming off the mountains.

        Well . . . stay dry!

        Will do.  Does it sound wrong to say I'm not worried about this in any way?  Am I supposed to be expressing alarm or concern or "well wishes" to those around me who are expressing their worry or self-concern?  I can't get that pump going in myself, not when I own a pair of boots, a raincoat, and know how to walk or wade to a higher elevation.
 
        Here's my best-opportunity to leave a composite of my own previous images, not because I don't have new images (and videos) but because . . . watching the trash compactor walls creep in at four inches an hour [listen to the downpour which hasn't stopped in days] is kinda not scary at all.  Especially not for a Jedi [artist who owns raingear and lives within the shadow of higher elevation].
 
 
they might be freaking

my perspective floats the surface calmly

from either perspective: head or snapper, it feels tame

our town high-water marker now looks like my childhood door-frame

 
        Thinking of you and yours.  We're not doing anything different than you'd be doing if the trash compactor around you was closing at 4"/hr.  - having coffee and watching it happen!

The Front of My Awareness is Not Only Where I Focus (AKA Little Baby)


prove you have a strong mediator: Postpone
 
the thing you want to enjoy next, by waiting
 
until the twenty-one song recording finishes
 
and allow yourself to cajole (don't you need
 
to pee?). But, you and I, we, will prove how
 
to see for ourselves, that we have self-tested
 
and can guarantee both of us, that we're able

to stick to the decision—because, "I said so"

and you will know who you are once I learn
 
how to differentiate you from me, because I
 
fabricated "autonomously-aware agent you"
 
when did sexual awareness begin to solidify
 
the part of us you *think of* as "elsewhere"
 
chose solidarity with front of house and ask

balancing against your own pond-ripples is
 
smoothed, realizing that everything outside
 
of the front focus awareness of 'enn' in now
 
you learned to self-program from ancestors
 
confirm you raise children to raise children
 
 
 

To 'Figure it Out for Yourself' Examine these Values:

    "I have a few questions, is that OK with you?"  Their handshake was firm, smooth, not overly energetic, and could never be considered aggressive; a soon-to-be-forgotten clasp of hands, which could be perfectly natural or could be engineered and choreographed to be indistinguishable from it.

    "Please, I'm all yours.  Fire away."  Their smile seemed genuine, even visible in the creases above their naturally thin eyebrows.  Also visible was the normal amount of teeth stain for their age, which may have been straightened decades ago, but no cosmetic whitening or apparent implants.

    "Although it's unnecessary to explain your reasons, I'd like to know your all-time favorite US president."  Eye contact moved up and around, slight nod as the question set-in, after a brief moment of consideration, they said . . .

    Artfully Trying for Ultra-Safe:  A Mount Rushmore-famous one.  [Educated conservatives; Narcissists, who refer to themselves as an Independent or as a political Libertarian; and Agnostics, who are politically apathetic or only remember a US president's name from primary school.]

    Attempting any Gain-Without-Give Ploy:  A deflection, non-answer, or request for you to "go first".  [Uneducated psychopaths; Religious fundamentalists; and those who fall into the vast category of "unethical, immoral, and untrustworthy" (e.g. organized criminals, most life-long politicians, and many authoritarians in positions of authority).]
 
    Providing Un-Asked-For Reasoning:  Even leading with it, to either appear 'being aware of flaws' justifies their position, or to explain why they aren't embarrassed by their choice's lack of remarkableness (e.g. because they were born in the same state).  [Perfectionist's; Some who are prone to 'Magical Thinking'; The occasional over-thinker with Autism or Asperger's; Children and immature adults, unpracticed at conversation; and "Floor Holders" to-whom, answering and waiting for the next question makes them feel stress, anxiety or irritation.]

    Jimmy Carter:  A one-term president most-known for his after-presidency accomplishments.  [Left of Center Democrats; "Farm-to-Table" Environmentalists; and kind-hearted Prius-drivers with white-guilt.] 
 
    Richard M. Nixon:  An "unethical, life-long authoritarian-politician" most-known for his resignation after failing to cover-up the criminal break-in(s) of the Democratic Re-Election Headquarters, which he authorized.  [Anyone who overly professes their "Pride in being who they are" (without irony); Most "Tell-it-like-it-is" or "down-to-earth" super-nationalists (who want to be honest and say: Bush Junior, or even Trump, but are just aware-enough to lie.]

    Dwight D. Eisenhower:  The last US five-star general who was "in command" at the end of WWII and began NATO.  ["Center-leaning" moderate Republicans; Hawkish supporters of US "military might"; and Conservative Democrats.]
 
    JFK:  A one-term president most-known for being assassinated.  [Conspiracy-theorists; Admirers of 'Celebrity' (to verify, ask about Princess Diana); Catholic "apologists"; and any member of the general public who has never thought about who their favorite president would be until this very moment.]
 
    FDR:  The only president elected to four terms in office, most known for the country's recovery from the Great Depression, support of WWII, enacting Social Security, the United Nations, and the Manhattan Project.  It is the only correct answer.  [Anyone with empathy (extra points if they do not name any flaws, and, when you verify by asking about Japanese Internment Camps, they acknowledge the facts, but do not attempt to justify).]

    LBJ:  A one-term president, most-known for his highly-effective use of "dirty politics" to obtain civil rights act(s), voting rights, medicare, medicaid, and immigration reform.  ["Modern Liberals" who are more comfortable with the term 'progressive' but may be slightly uncomfortable with terms like 'leftest' or 'social democrat'; Idealist's (at heart) who are less willing to turn a blind eye toward FDR's failings; and anti-corporate individualists who are critical of any hypocrisy, especially their own.]

    Ronald Regan:  The Corporate-Republican's Wet Dream, most-known for neoliberal supply-side economics, tax cuts for the wealthy, de-regulations, and trickle-down economics.  ["Modern Conservatives" who are, definitely, without any empathy; Psychopathic-sociopaths; Financially secure from birth; and the newly "Comfortably-Wealthy" (or those who aspire to become so).]

Family Trees


        Picture your family tree; exponentially expanding back, through the generations.  How far do you imagine it extends?
 
        Do you extend your ancestral family tree to include proto-human species, from millions of generations ago?  Since there was never a clearly demarcated "line" between proto-human and human —why not keep going back along your mammalian-portion in your family tree?
 
        But, how can you choose to stop looking back along that massive pyramid of organic life-forms at the "mammal-lizard" that must have been your ancestor a few hundreds-of-millions of generations ago?  Is it because of the warm-blooded versus cold-blooded seems too "alien" (too far away from human)?

        Keep going.  There were billions of generations of single-celled organisms, which thrived on sunlight or carbon dioxide (or some other food-source) until there was sufficient levels of their waste-products (oxygen) to allow multi-cellular life to procreate and survive.  Your family tree should include some portion of those small animals, right?  

        There is one long ancestral line of survivors who duplicated or cloned, then they spawned, later they birthed, which leads from some combination of inorganic proteins (think: RNA-virus) to you.
 
        Every one of those organic organisms should be in your imagined family tree.  And, why stop there?  I expect it's because consciousness, and the organic drive-to-survive, may not have been (and may still not be?) present in inorganic proteins.
 
        Is it probable that inorganic proteins were/are unaffected by the extreme temperatures, radiations, and vacuum-conditions of space—during the ten billion years between the universe's expansion and the point when the third planet away from the star (now called: Sol or The Sun) cooled sufficiently enough for those viruses to crash land and begin their job of Terra-forming?