Losing friends to quackery and conspiracies
Recently I had a vaguely friendish person on facebook post a "question", the kind of leading BS question where you already know the answer and you're trying to inculcate your ideas in others, in regards to water fluoridation. It was something along the lines of "Does anyone know if this is true?" and then a link to a conspiracy site claiming that "government" is poisoning people by "dumping toxic waste" into our water supply. It had all the conspiracy bullshit flags...fringe sources, misunderstanding of the topic, misrepresentation of science, implications of shilling for "big something something", in this case, "big chemical". I responded briefly, and politely, that water fluoridation is no big deal, and often involves removing fluoride that occurs naturally. I provided source links to scientific sites.
The friendish person replied with, in hindsight, predictable vitriol, claiming I was mocking him, and that I was ignoring the evidence. He then went on a nearly page-long rant about how scientists are all in the pocket of industry and using "toxic waste" to keep the sheeple placid and accepting, and that I was indeed a sheep myself for believing their lies. Of course I at that point had realized my mistake, and responded very briefly that I was simply pointing out facts, never attacked him personally (like he was doing right then), and referenced the science again. Then I unfollowed the post. Shortly after that he began messaging me angrily, accusing me of everything under the sun, after two of which I blocked him. I won't accept personal attacks on FB or anywhere else.
I've got friends who believe all sorts of screwy stuff, and in general I just let it go. I'm not the thought police, and I'll generally only respond to things I perceive as harmful to the humanity, and even then sparingly. As Mr. Anti-fluoride proved, most people hold these crackpot beliefs dear to their hearts, and will defend them with vigor, despite their inherent stupidity. Anti-fluoridators, anti-vaxers, pro-"alternate medicine" people, and a list of others are pretty much all I'll respond to, and for very good reasons. A lot of those stances actually kill people (anti-fluoridation people aren't responsible for death generally, just making life a little worse for poor people). I'm not, however, a genius who somehow knows everything about everything, and don't intend to browbeat people over anything that doesn't violate my personal space. I'll try to engage people gently on some subjects, and sometimes it pays off.
One such time a friend posted something about homeopathy. Homeopathy is straight-up garbage and quackery, and many people don't actually know what it is...which is charging outrageous prices for completely pure water that has no clinical effect other than slightly greater hydration. I posted something along the lines of "Hey [friend], homeopathy doesn't really do anything, don't waste your money", and got a slightly irritated response. I figured that he didn't know what it was, and posted links explaining homeopathy. Indeed, he was thinking more of herbal remedies and naturopathy, which is completely separate, and responded with thanks. So a gentle engagement gave an opportunity to spread a little knowledge, and was well-received.
Most people I know will respond to logic and evidence. The thing I've learned which, looking back to my own more vitriolic past seems now obvious, is that not many people like to be insulted or bullied. While I've had to cut ties with some folks over various personal beliefs in the past, such as the Prop 8 fight here in California, and anti-vaccination stances, I'm generally more easy-going these days.
Our time is so brief.
I need to write more
I just got told that I need to write, because I'm good at it. It feels odd, having someone tell me I'm good at something. I have a reflexive reaction to deflect praise and pretend I'm not good at anything. I don't know, honestly, if I have any chops as a writer, but I suppose it's worth a go. I'll try to write more updates here, for a start. But less personal stuff. That's changed, there's other things happening that don't allow for the public catharsis I was going for before, and I'm going to try and come up with either more abstract or downright fictional things I can write. Maybe short stories? They're excellent practice, and honestly, my main problem is not practicing. Writing, at least in the crude way I understand it, responds to practice, to putting blood on the line. Moving your mind and your hands to make something. Like any creative endeavor it requires an overall idea, blocked out in large swathes, then whittled down to its essence. Like finding the shape within a block of marble, or some bullshit metaphor like that.
I enjoyed writing about books. I just wrapped up The Twelve, the second book of Justin Cronin's Passage trilogy. It's odd...it didn't hook me in. The world is so insanely stark that I think maybe I ended up with some scarring from the first novel, and The Twelve simply didn't hammer me as hard emotionally as The Passage did. Excellent adventure stories, and some very wonderfully written descriptive scenes. Cronin has an interesting approach to metaphor as well, and I occasionally found myself laughing happily at the imagery he employs...other times kind of skimming over it. A worthwhile read, all things taken together, and I recommend it.
I also not too long ago read Stephen King's The Stand, which came highly recommended (it's been around quite a while I know. I just haven't read much King). I had a good time reading this book, right up til the ending. No spoilers, but I was pretty disappointed with how it ended. I'd read McCarthy's The Road right before it, and was much more satisfied with that read, ultimately, than with The Stand. I'm kind of a homer for Cormac McCarthy, though, so take that with a grain of salt.
Apparently I'm on an apocalypse kick lately. Anyone got any suggestions for good end-of-the-world books? I've always been more interested in the aftermath than the actual whatever happened to initiate it, so bear that in mind.
Well now
I'm kind of stunned right now. For a lot of reasons. I thought I had poisons in me but I guess I don't. My head is spinning a little...I think I'll just post some songs. Listen to them carefully, OK? They're fucking good songs.
I am a breathing time machine.
I got a big big mouth that just won't shut up!
I thought I knew, but I don't know if I know.
It's weird hearing songs proclaiming love and thinking "damn. I got no one to sing those for." Like these ones. I suppose I can think of them as songs for potential. I'll probably at some point fall in love, or heavy like, with someone cool again. Not everyone in the world is like my ex-wife. So I can sing to that ghost-shape of future maybes.
I've tried hard to listen to stuff that we listened to, but man...some of it's too fraught. Like Holland, 1945 below...that was our walk-out music for the wedding. I high-fived a surprised-looking Everette on the way out. She cried so hard trying to read the vows I wrote (I wrote both our vows at the last minute because she wouldn't, by the way) that she barely got through. Her dad got lost or had to lasso her insane (literally!) sister to the bumper of his car so her brother walked her down the aisle. To "The Trapeze Swinger".
Wednesdee nite
Oh man. I've been thinking about my birthday coming up. I'm going to be forty. 40! four zero. Who woulda thunk that shit, right? I was completely convinced, as a teen, that I'd never make it out of my twenties. I literally had a vision when I was 17 that I would die when I was 24 and fucking went nuts doing everything I could. I didn't to a lot because I was lazy as fuck, but I tried. But then I turned 25 and I was still alive. So shit! there's something to figure out. Anyhoo, I'm glad the whole fate thing turned out to be bullshit.
I got my passport! I'm officially...passported? Port-passed? Dunno what the operative word is. But I'm it.
I'm still watching Lost Girl, it's horribly bad. But I can't stop. It's like crack TV. I suppose I'll run out of episodes soon.
Blake sent me this tonight. What an astonishing voice. Thanks Blake.
Oh yeah, the ex-wife is back in town. I looked to get her social info from her mom, for taxes, and her mom told me she was back living with her. So either she ditched her grotesque animal or he ditched her. I keep running through what I'll say to her whenever she comes back and is in my face. It ranges from harsh, to gentle, to blank. To nothing. I don't actually think she'll come back. I was harsh with her the last time I spoke to her, hoping it would keep her away. I was never good for her, and she was never good for me, and I hope she stays away, and lets it fade. She'll find someone she likes and so will I, someone who's nice to her how she wants someone to be nice to her, not how I was, which made her hate her life. So that's that.
Wednesday morn
So apparently my roommate has a feed for my site and she was concerned that my last post was due to drunken craziness instead of my normal brain malfunctions. I can say, happily, that while I was indeed drunk while writing it, I stand by every word.
Sarah woke up with Trampled by Turtles running through her head, so I found this live version of "Wait So Long" for her to enjoy:
The bass player is so endearingly awkward.
The Kings put a third period all up in the Blues' backsides last night. They come in trailing 4 to 1 and then go out with a 6-4 win. How much do the Blues hate playing my fellas? Love it. Also: Never fight Kyle Clifford. He will fuck you up so bad. Lucky #13, the Big Red Dog.
Note also the lack of fucks given while he skates off after hitting that guy so hard he forgets his kids' names.
Doop di Tooozday
Heavy shit I've been writing! Maybe something less heavy today. Media consumption perhaps?
I read the Cormac McCarthy book The Road, which was made into a movie starring Viggo Mortensen (Mac from Sunny: "VIRGO MORTENSTEIN!"[punches a girl in the face]) . I liked the book fine, it was a bit brutal. But knowing Viggo was in it, and making the character in the book look like him, was tough in my brain because I haven't seen the movie, I just know he was in it. So while I mentally invented the kid from whole cloth, I had to use Aragorn to stand in for the man, which made for some odd moments in the story, in my head anyway.
Fig. 1
I've begun watching a series on Netflix called "Lost Girl". It's possibly the worst show ever. Take the cheesiness of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and remove the charm of the writing, replace that with awkward Canadians trying to act like wise-cracking Americans (but oooh how they struggle not to apologize every time they insult each other!). Sprinkle liberal doses of side-boob, butts, and near-Cinemax-level sex scenes (they refuse to show a nipple for some reason, on a female at least, but everything short of full frontal seems to fly), and for some reason I can't stop watching. Luckily there's only two seasons on Netflix and I'm almost done, the fever will run its course. One redeeming quality is the sidekick chick Kenzi. She hits my right in the golly-she's-pretty areas. No officer not the bathing suit areas. I've always been a sucker for the waify big eyed lots of eyeliner type. See Fig. 1.
I started re-reading The Kraken by China Miéville (still no idea how to spell that dirty Marxist's name). Still as enjoyable as I remember. You go, Mee-yeh-ville? My-ay-vee? My-vile?
The second book in Justin Cronin's Passage series is out. I'm going to wait a bit to get it, I don't have money to spend $18 on an ebook right now. I may re-read the first one, too. That story was pretty funky if I remember correctly, with like a hundred years just popping up between chapters at one point. I will report!
Here's a song for Nikki.
Daydreaming
Middle Brother
Middle Brother
Early in the morning too hungover to go back to sleep.
Every sound is amplified, every light so dizzying.
Listen for a while to the neighbors having sex
Wishing I could lay my aching head upon your breast.
Can't I dream another dream?
Can't I close my eyes and wander back to sleep?
But I'm daydreaming about you.
I know that it's wrong.
That I'm daydreaming about you
Cuz I've been daydreaming for so long.
A Bloody Mary afternoon, waste my time out in the sun.
Hum myself some melodies, maybe I can sing you one.
Maybe I could find you sitting down at the cafe.
Maybe I could join you at your table today.
Can't I just get what I want?
Can't I be the man that steals away your heart?
But I'm daydreaming about you.
I know that it's wrong.
That I'm daydreaming about you.
I've been daydreaming for so long.
Yeah, I've been daydreaming for so long.
Later in the evening take the bus down and see the show.
He'll be behind the bar. I'll get a beer, leave a tip and lay low.
I'm just a kid that gets his drinks from you
And stands around and doesn't have a clue.
Can't I hold you close to me?
Can't I ever say to you just what I mean?
But I'm daydreaming about you.
I know that it's wrong
That I'm daydreaming about you.
Cuz I've been daydreaming for so long.
Oh yeah, I've been daydreaming for so long.
Old email
At one point last year we decided we would have a kid. I was going through old emails, and at the point where I'd decided I wanted to I'd written an email to the future child. I talked about who I was, and what I would always do for them. I read some of it. I realized that child would never exist.
Probably for the best, ultimately. But still, I wonder what that kid would have looked like, sounded like, laughed like. And it'll never happen.
I thought
I thought I was endless. I thought I had an endless reservoir of love, of hope, of strength. But I'm not endless. I'm as finite as one can be. I suppose I should thank her, because she showed me my limits. Better to know, I suppose, than to go forward thinking you had no limits.
I found out I can fall out of love with someone, that a vow broken will break me.
I found out the only person I can truly trust is myself, and that I should listen to my instincts more.
I found out my idealism wasn't necessarily the right approach to life. Maybe hope can be misplaced. Maybe? Definitely.
I found out that some people will continue with something they know is no longer true because they hope to make it true again.
She told me she married me and wanted a baby with me because she hoped it would "fix things" and I went cold. She told me that sex with me felt like rape to her. She told me she wasn't happy with me, and our home made her miserable. And then she came back, at least virtually, and told me she wanted to try again. The words, the actions, they can't be undone. They sliced clean through our connection like a scalpel. I think what she's feeling is a phantom hand, like when someone has a limb amputated, and they still occasionally feel something.
What we did, both of us over the course of our relationship, can't be fixed. She stopped believing in me years ago, probably before we even got married. And she acted on it, to go somewhere else, to try and find happiness. She broke my love in the process, and nearly broke me completely. The destruction was a result of delusion in both of us, and delusion is poison to the heart.
I suppose I should thank her, for showing me my limits. Thanks for a lot of good times, too. Thanks for making me realize I can love, and be loved, even if in the end we fucked it up.
I'll go forward, and look to the world to see what it is. But I won't have my eyes fogged with hate or bitterness. I'll try to see clearly, and try to be a good man, and try to do better next time. I hope she does too.
Got an email
Apparently my ex-wife reads my blog. I think maybe she's the only person in the world who does. Anyway, she just emailed either today or yesterday and asked me to stop writing about things that have happened in my life. I'm thinking specifically this post. Apparently she's upset because she claims she tried a "last-minute reconciliation". After signing divorce papers. After having her grotesque scam-artist boyfriend email me and threaten to beat me up. After leaving me a shattered, broken mess at the time in my life that I needed her more than anything. Then, when I told her not to contact me, she responded with an angry, accusatory email full of bile. That's her idea of reconciliation. Taking no responsibility and expecting other people to just act and feel how she wants them to. It's astonishing.
She gave up her right to request things from me when she left and lived with another man.
There's no chance in hell I'll stop writing about my life. It's my life. If she don't like it, she shouldn't have lied to me, cheated on me, and then ran out on me. She can also not ever read my blog, which is additionally fine by me. I honestly hope she has a happy life, but I hope she stays the hell out of mine. It's like she doesn't understand human beings. I honestly don't understand how she'd think I'd be somehow okay with all of the hijinks she got up to. Who would? I don't even share everything that happened here. I deleted the email without responding, but I guess if I'm being honest I figure she'll read this post.
I finally got some cash and was able to make my mortgage payment, which was woo-ee close, but still, that's a good thing. I still have a roof over my head, for now. I'll take it.
I was thinking earlier today, after doing a few errands, about various people to see and do things with, and I realized how powerfully loneliness is affecting me. I was sitting there reading and I realized that this is exactly what I need to be working on. I had a lot of good friends over for Cards Against Humanity last night. Tolek and his girlfriend Belén, Sheryl, Sarai, Lance, Maureen and Ikoi, and we talked shit and laughed and got drunk and said profound drunken things until four in the morning, and in the end everyone left and I was alone at home. And that's okay. That's what I have to be okay with. We're none of anything but alone most of the time, and I'm never going to be a good partner to someone, ultimately, or the kind of good person I want to be, until solitude no longer frightens me. I mean, that's why I hung on so long with my ex, in large part. I was terrified of being alone.
I still have fears sometimes, like what if some accident happens and I can't help myself. But really, since last summer I've been alone anyway. My ex-wife was nowhere near, off in LA blaming her troubles on everyone but herself. I'm still working out how poisonous she really was in my life. I don't hate her, but we were just terrible for each other. The first really honest thing she ever did was leave me. So I guess if some accident happens I'll have to find a way to drag my own ass out of it. I'm living for me, for my life, and for love. I tried living for someone else for a long, long time, and it ended up being a disaster, and a mistake, so I'm trying something different now.
Here's a song especially for my ex-wife.
Disappear from your hometown
Go and find the people that you know
Show them all your good parts
Leave town when the bad ones start to show
Go and wed a woman, a pretty girl that you've never met
Make sure she knows you love her well
But don't make any other promises
The weight of lies will bring you down
And follow you to every town
Cause nothin happens here
That doesn't happen there
So when you run make sure you run
To something and not away from
Cause lies don't need an aero plane
To chase you anywhere
I once heard the worse thing
A man can do is draw a hungry crowd.
Tell everyone his name in pride an confidence
But leaving out his doubt.
I'm not sure I bought those words
When I was young I knew most everything.
These words have never meant as much to anyone
As they now mean to me.
The weight of lies will bring you down
And follow you to every town,
Cause nothin happens here that doesn't happen there.
So when you run make sure you run
To something and not away from,
Cause lies don't need an aero plane
To chase you down.
The weight of lies will bring you down
And follow you to every town,
Cause nothin happens here that doesn't happen there.
So when you run make sure you run
To something and not away from,
Cause lies don't need an aero plane
To chase you anywhere.
The weight of lies will bring you down
And follow you to every town,
Cause nothin happens here that doesn't happen there.
So when you run make sure you run
To something and not away from,
Cause lies don't need an aero plane
To chase you down