Showing posts with label Distraction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Distraction. Show all posts

Saturday, September 4, 2021

Course correction


I've gotten sidetracked.

Every day, I check the latest birdemic report from the Ministry for the Criminally Insane: How many birdemic-attributed deaths today? How many peck deaths? I put the numbers into my spreadsheet and see that, yes, we're still on course for peck deaths to eclipse birdemic deaths sometime in October. And then what -- I win? With facts and logic? Is that anticipated statistic supposed to be the one weird factoid that will prove I was right all along, and undelude the deluded? It's meaningless. Of course it just takes a minute or two of my time every day -- but when checking the latest lies, and engaging however fleetingly with the Liararchy-approved list of Very Important Distractions, has become part of my daily routine, that has spiritual effects that go far beyond the matter of wasted time.

The other bad habit I've acquired is checking the Anonymous Conservative blog every day -- and I do mean every day. The guy posts a few dozen links a day, but all at once, at an unpredictable time -- so I check, and then check again, and then check again, and then there it is! My daily schmear. There's a scene in Communion where Whitley, after a night of terrifying encounters with otherworldly entities, comes down to the breakfast table and is reassured by the smell of coffee and waffles, the smiling faces, and the fact that "the Times was as thick as ever," and that's exactly the feeling. I have, by a commodious vicus of recirculation, come back to the level of some upwardly-mobile New Yorker salivating over the Times.

So I'm taking a break from all that -- politics, the birdemic, the apricot tree -- and trying to redirect my attentions to what is real and what matters.

Friday, November 27, 2020

A reminder: Don't invest too much in what's going on in Washington

Keep reminding yourself:

2020 happened on Trump's watch. He has not repented -- literally has never repented in his life -- and will never repent.

A Joe Camel administration would be even worse. But how much does "even worse" really matter at this point?

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
If the Camels don't get you, the Fatimas must

Tune out, turn off, drop out. Follow Jesus, and let the dead bury their dead. 

Tuesday, April 21, 2020

To those in despair

No one in the world ever gets what they want, and that is beautiful.
Everybody dies frustrated and sad, and that is beautiful.
-- They Might Be Giants, "Don't Let's Start"
When the green field comes off like a lid
Revealing what was much better hid:
Unpleasant.
-- W. H. Auden, The Two
Dogs! Would you live forever?
-- Frederick the Great
But oh, that magic feeling, nowhere to go
-- Paul McCartney, "You Never Give Me Your Money"

Others are posting messages of comfort, but I get the distinct feeling that what some people really need is a message of discomfort -- a swift kick in the seat of the pants. So, never being one to dismiss distinct feelings, here goes.

Ahem.

Listen. You were always going to suffer and die. Everyone in your family was always going to suffer and die. Everyone you know was always going to suffer and die. All your earthly efforts were going to come to nought, your country and culture -- and, least we forget, "the economy" -- were going to degenerate and disappear, and the sun was going to expand into a red giant and consume the earth as though it had never existed. All that was always going to happen, and you knew it all along, or would have if you had been paying attention.

If you are in despair now but weren't before, you're an idiot. You do realize this game you signed up for is called mortal life, right? Did someone not explain that to you? Were you expecting something different? I don't know anything about your situation, but I know it hasn't fundamentally changed. You were born on death row. Don't you think that should have made you a little tougher than this?

As for the all the dupes and caitiffs and hypocrites and quislings you suddenly find yourself surrounded by -- I hate to break it to you, but they were already like that. All you're seeing now is what their true colors were all along. That's what the word apocalypse actually means, you know: Revelation. Revealing. Uncovering. The green field coming off like a lid. For just a second, you get a glimpse of all the men behind all the curtains in the world. The whited sepulchers may have looked nicer before they were opened, but they were full of dead men's bones all along.


You should have come to terms with death and suffering and evil a hell of a long time ago, but if you somehow haven't gotten around to it yet, well, now's your chance to do so. (Or not. Distraction is always an option, of course. I hear porn sites are offering premium memberships for free.)

Suffering is nothing. Suffering is ephemeral. If you think it matters, you're not thinking clearly. Next question.

And death? Well, that's the big question, isn't it? If death is for real, if mortality is the last word, then nothing at all matters or could matter, and you have nothing in particular to do except enjoy "that magic feeling" and kill time until time kills you. Or cut to the chase and kill yourself. It doesn't really matter one way or the other.

Or perhaps there's something after death, in which case something very likely does matter, and you'd better figure out what. Don't expect me to hold your hand here. Do I look like some sort of spiritual guide? Do your own thinking. Get out there and figure things out. It's a pity you waited until you were scared, though. Now it's just going to be that much harder to trust your intuitions as anything other than wishful thinking. Still, better to trust them, as compromised a they are, than what some Random Internet Person says. Best get on it.


Shall I close by saying that God loves you and everything's going to be all right? Fine. God loves you, and everything's going to be all right. Just keep in mind that God has loved everyone who has ever lived on this earth, and that "everything being all right," by God's standards, is evidently consistent with every imaginable human tragedy. Go read Candide sometime. Or the Book of Job. Or any history book, really. God's love offers no assurance at all against the kinds of things you're probably scared of. In the end, I'm afraid there's just no substitute for learning not to be scared of them. And there are only two ways of doing that.

So, what's it going to be? Philosophy or distraction?

Ace of Hearts

On the A page of Animalia , an Ace of Hearts is near a picture of a running man whom I interpreted as a reference to Arnold Schwarzenegger....