Wednesday, March 24, 2010

sage

Today was a good day. Kind of...monumental, in a small way. I met with the professor, and he cleared up some of my deepest issues with some of the lightest philosophical combat I've ever had.

First of all, I took my enhanced knoweldge about biology to try and take his "critique of pure reason" theorem to task. This wasn't done easily...and he swiftly diffused it without much care.
"Your ideas of god hinge on the idea that we're different from animals...why then has behavior been observed showing the links between animals and humans..." I listed a couple relevant topics such as babboons and drugs and dolphins and communication.
His rebuttal wasn't terribly satisfactory, but it did the trick. He stated that I'm wrapped up in manipulating this discourse about languge, when my categorization and discourse was fundamentally flawed. He sited Dawkins's work on memes and the idea that everything I'm saying is using a flawed system. This is...therefore because of...is a retroactive progression of ideas. I can always get a phenomenon and manipulate my theory toward what I want...therefore I can try and meld my ideas to the system that fundamentally (on the particulate level) has no explanation.
He put the ball in my court saying "Is everything you are reduced to molecules? Why then do you keep adjusting your discourse to one that doesn't explain data such as your perceived relationship failures. You categorize yourself in a non-empirical way and you flaunt empiricism..."
He was talking about the fact that I'm "short" and the fact that I try and base some sort of biological theory derived from physical phenomenon...when in reality it is based on identity. Identity has no place in biology...he said. I challenged and lost several times from every angle I could think of.

Then he really put the ball in my court by saying: satire is a reflection on a reflection. Cynicism is a reflection on a reflection of something that is not sound. He sited my projected image of toughness and the fact that I try and derive some real meaning from something that I don't conjure up unless immense pressure is placed on my thought process...at this point I lose something because I'm trying to create something meaningful...

You project upon yourself this idea of a fractured family...family is the thing that Lacan and many other philosophers say is the grounds for all personal interaction. This idea that you put yourself to has reprecussions in all your relationships because you think you're above them when you're not. Wham! Truth from the highest source of knowledge that I know...language from a man I admire prompting introspection to a level that I'm not apt to. He called it too...I told hiim Ikept a running blog of my thoughts. He said they weren't really my own...my identity is a projection, in a sense, and it causes strict judgement from when I was little until now.

He essentially was telling me to cast it off. Quit blame-shifting, my sister says. The professor took a meat-cleaver to my need for empirical dissection of personal relationships...then he disarmed me with something that I really wasn't expecting...but I'd known all along. "I'm reading Jane Austen." I criticised hiim for it. "You can judge all you want, but she knows that the only real human experience worth having is that of human connection. You can't deny its claims to knowledge through consensus and its power to create identity. What are the three things (actually 4) that humans can ever write about?"
I replied with a bit of chagrin: "The only things we know...birth, death, and sex...the fourth and most prevalent but yet unseen is the search for identity...this identity is created through knowing other people and comparison...but to have true identity we must contrast ourselves with a more prevalent being: a higher power. Bloomsbury group motto "only connect" from Howard's End...you know it?"
"yes...Austen would've been in the Bloomsbury group with high fives!"
He always can make me laugh as he mops the floor with what I think is real thought...

I took one thing away from this: Lose the attitude.

We talked about modern criticism and its aberrition toward truth...but that was beside the point. I'm in a crucial part of my life: if I don't accept the source of my identity then I will forever have self-destructive tendencies. It got deeper.

"You're an emotional masochist. You pursue the relationships that are destructive so that you can postulate why everything is stacked against you. Battle off your own demons first"

And I'm seeing this more and more. I can't get a valid explanation for everything through science. My identity is derived from one thing: God. If I don't confront what this means then I will continually be looking for water in sand. Trying to derive consciousness from neurophysiology or the movement of molecules will not give me the ordered discourse I'm looking for. This drives me against one of the most difficult dichotomies: Chaos vs. Order.

Dissociating from this concept of "God" has only led to one thing in science, philosophy, psychology, and life...anti-realism or chaos.

Then he stabbed at my alcohol use. I claimed that it was an escape...he said it was a temporary distortion of a reality that is the confusion derived from unsound discourse. FUCK! You're RIGHT!

I confronted him with Brendan's idea...God is a concept for time, they are the same because time caused the creation of order from randomness...and all energy in the universe is transferred or converted to entropy through time. I forget the argument exactly about this. My mind was just set on how much of an ass I'd been to people in the last couple months.

Saw Sarah tonight. She has such beautiful steel blue eyes it's tough to look away. She seems well. This makes me happy. I maintain my statement: if there's anything that I could ever do to make her the happiest woman on the planet then I would. For a time that mission involved being close to her. Now that means back off. In the future it might take on an entirely different role.
I can't criticize but...I feel like she's with a deadbeat man. Contrasted with the shit I wrestle with I mgiht say that about a lot of people...but from her tone I got that feeling.

The spring releases still...I've never had this much of an attack from the professor. He told me that God gave us emotion for a reason. Emotion before thought (I argued with him on that and...although thought can preceed thought...with regard to apprehensions etc...but raw feelings occur independantly, such as seeing Sarah--without any thought to our past or mistakes I felt this rush of compassion).

My thoughts are a mess right now. It's time to sleep it off.

Monday, March 22, 2010

storm

I forget the literary technique that describes the parallel between the weather and a person's thoughts. Tonight at muggs was a good little trip. I finished persepolis 2 and read a chapter of Ochem. I also had some stimulating conversation with Josh Boord and a fair amount of disgust for the 2 karas.

At least the girls in Miami U were going somewhere, the shallow form-over-function attitude of the displaced suburbanite "rebels" lathered with shallow sauce makes these people exceptionally unappealing. They're down-to-earth people sometimes. However, the "I drink all the time and smoke too much because it's cool" attitude annoys the piss out of me. I'm going to choose to let that blow past me though. I feel like it's kind of ironic that they incessently talked about attractive tall dudes a lot...like the iconic contrast in my head between the deep and narrow had to be leveled before I could go any farther.

There's one person who really stands above a lot of this shit, and that's Josh. He's a compliment to everything that I'm looking at in this odd interaction called "attraction." Tall, dark eyes and dark hair, smooth voiced, confident, skinny, musician, free spirit, and deep...he and I have had a connection for what seems like the better part of my life. He's the one person I can tear down the facade and talk to.

It's shameful how much he gets hit on by girls. The track that he chose is opposite of mine. I laid down my instruments and music to pick up the textbook. He picked up the novel and clutched the guitar. Both of us are looking for balance. Recently he picked up a good stable job, and works 64 hours a week. He's begun chastising people who simply "do whatever makes them happy in the immediate future" and he's catching flak for it. I feel like I've been saying this so much that I've burned too many bridges in Canton...that's why breaks get lonelier and lonelier.

I'm still set on this hard-pressed schedule and climbing the ladder toward wealth and my ultimate goal: finding a cure for my mother's disease.

Josh picked up my Ochem book for a bit and immediately took a mild interest. I explained a bit about endothermic reactions and why carbon is the element of life. He's intelligent enough to blaze through all the flaming hoops, but I don't think he has the motivation to do something that he's not passionate about.

Anyways, we talked about self-denial for a long period of time. It's worth not getting a shot in a bar to have a sandwich in Paris. It's worth not getting a case on a wednesday night to have a pauliner in Toledo, Spain. Neither he nor I have the opportunity for a quick trip to Europe without dire consequences affecting our future economic stability. We have to make sacrifices.

One of my sacrifices will have the largest payoff. I'm thinking of relinquishing my hate for someone who has warped my life forever. This involves a trip to North Carolina.
I've often imagined myself going there with a significant other for emotional support. The transference of negative to positive emotions would cause a huge connection to anyone...just as long as they could say the right things to me. This is something that I have to do by myself though.

The man has hundreds of thousands of dollars, all going to charities and various organizations.
I think I'm past the point of hate though. If there is a God in heaven he would want me to let go of my bitterness...if this is only chemical chance...there's no point in holding to some sort of metaethical code that can't be derived with solid logic.
Janee would never agree with me. She doesn't agree with me on a lot of things. I actually think that she's really mad at me because she chose to take her current boyfriend's ex girlfriend to Denver instead of planting things and drinking with me over this spring break.

Time is running out though. These people I want to speak to are dying quickly. I've noticed my habit of offsetting anger about this event to other people. When I was in Miami U, my dad was taking my new niece and autistic brother to have the mother of all confrontations with him. Dad got it on tape. Maybe I'll have the guts to listen to it some day.

I talked to Josh about this. That was definitely the way to go. Usually I talk about it to some random girl and that turns into a confusing mindfuck that ends up with either a horrible romance or an incredible weight.

It's stormy here. Canton is sordid.

Another thing that I brought up with Josh was my blatent discontent with the way we naked apes approach relationships. As the Karas chattered away about how so and so has great eyes or such and such is really rich, Josh and I talked about female companionship. "I just want someone to be around, lay with, or just sit and read with," Josh would say. One of the Karas interjects "I would love to just read with you," but both of us were thinking that this isn't the kind of companionship that he's interested in. I asked her to describe him in 3 words. Attractive was one, passionate was the other...the third was largely irrelevant.

Socially, people tend to let their self-perception dictate who they want to be with. Hence, Josh and my propensity toward shattering stereotypes works to our disadvantage because these facilitate easier acceptance. We both want something that could possibly be found in another country. Most likely we could call this "a different perspective" but then again it might also fall under the category "uncommitted relationships" or "psychosocial moratorium" or "culture shock." All we know, is that it's out there. Some of my best fiction came from my time in Spain. Some of my deepest revelations were on the banks of the Rio Tajo watching the watter flow over a retaining wall.

The readings for my Evolution class will probably result in some interesting reflections. Tomorrow I'm going to work the fuck out of the boflex to make up for lost time (finals week) and study the shit out of Ochem so I can keep from frying myself next quarter. Coffee with an old friend tomorrow, maybe I'll get my foot in with an older crowd. Thinking about it, I really hope that K doesn't hate me. It would be of little consequence if she did...seeing as how our conversation seems usually intitated by me and ended by her, but I don't want to have another sunk friendship just because of my projective identification or shifting thoughts.

Red is batting at a stray bead on the floor. I look at the wall laden with my mothers beads. How can she live like this? She spends hours a day making the most beautiful gaudy necklaces. People chatter about her work in a positive way. The pain in my eye and jaw as a result of this chalazion infection is distracting...I can't imagine what she goes through when she wakes up every morning. When I climb the steps at night I can't help but think with every step I might wake her from her infrequent light sleep. She says everything with a smile. "When I sleep, I don't feel like my body is on fire..." she laughs genuinely "I slammed my head on the corner of a door but didn't flinch because it feels normal!" Teary eyed and weary I'm turning to the professor to answer these questions: Why would a caring God do this to such a good servant of his? Is it all chemical randomness?

He's going to set me right again. With every lesson, more of his teachings set in. I love it. Too many thoughts for one night. Such a storm of ideas.

capsaicin and KALE

I planted a flat of kale for our upcoming plant sale. It's going to be so badass. Also sunk some tomatoes and played frisbee with the dogs for a couple hours. Drank with Travis and cooked with Corina. Going out to muggs with Josh in a bit for coffee and chemistry.

I ate a bunch of habanero sauce and now my mouth and nose burn.

Josh is here. Going to read some evo and possibly hang out in the fish barn tonight. Good day!~

Sunday, March 21, 2010

mi ami

Piling in the car after a long week of finals...I was intellectually and physically exhausted from studying so much and working so hard for classes.

I came out with a minor hit to my GPA, no failed Ochem, no major changes in plan. I'm still going to cut back the shit this coming quarter if I feel it's too much. If I work a bit every day though...I should be able to pull the gpa and hours that I really want to.

This weekend was really good. I went to miami to visit Katie. I've always lived by the principle of intellectual and physical contrast being a necessary phenomenon for us to understand the physical world...with that being said, I'm glad I am where I am right now.

This weekend was a gauntlet of whitewashed America and uppity suburban children "growing up" into the consumerist unquestioning society that is wrenching people like my sisters down for their own personal gain. The intricate network of power in the form of $$$ was like a spiderweb around that place.

I sound like I'm on a fucking soapbox...but I just felt uncomfortable there...without the idealistic undertones of what was transpiring. I felt like I could be 15% myself.

First night, I got the up and down judgement from several people on the street even though I was wearing a (not dirty...for once) shirt and jeans. I paid to get in a bar where a large amount of people were wearing a button-down shirt and jeans.

I can't go to a habitually clean place of residence and feel ok, welcome, or stable. It's not to say that K or the people I was staying with weren't perfect...I just don't feel good in that setting. It would be like going in for an interview dressed up and having a man in a suit sit on the floor of a horse barn...only the filth was clenliness. It's like Alison's apt or my NC grandmother's kitchen.

I chose this though. I suggested to Nick that we should visit Miami so I could chill with K.

K was perfect. Frisbee, stir fry, and day drinking were the highlights of the trip.

I was perfectly fine until the nerve was hit...the axon crushed during normal conversation. I am short, this word rings in my ears every time I see a "beautiful" girl or someone who looks attractive to the standard that our modern media has put us, I know that it's the first thing that most people see and, quite frequently, too much to overcome. On top of the TV there was a card with a muscular man standing on the side of a mountain with the writing "for your birthday...I thought you'd want a tall one on the rocks" or something very similar. In conversation they talked several times about one guy who is "really cute" but "too short" or nice but...too short. Do they berate people like that while another guy exhibiting the same physical characteristics is in there intentionally?

I always avoid it when I'm in a mixed group. The guys I'm around are sensitive to a single opposite sex in the room. We don't talk about boobs or dsl's when a new girl is present.
Long story short, after about 3 hours...I realized Alison was completely right on what a huge mistake it was to go there.

On the opposite end, it doesn't make me feel good at all to talk about their attractiveness in a bad light. The blonde was really pudgy and had a pigface, the runner was also a chunk who had no tits...but less gross than the blonde. Then, the brunette was a real treat...sounded like my cell bio prof and had an unfortunate nose.
Conversation? Not at all. When I type that shit I get a feeling of self loathing. I don't mean to sound like I'm better than them for not doing that shit...but I just don't undestand how someone could lead a fulfilling life while putting themselves up to these standards constantly.

Then, there's K...caught up in it. On the tip of my tongue I had a lot I wanted to say to her, because I know she's not happy with her current situation. She feels like it can be solved with a good looking guy...but I'm pretty sure that's what a lot of loveless Jackson parents believe when they're running through their materialist lives. I don't have the answers for a lot of things. My way of doing things has gotten me through a lot of heatbreak and some of the most fucked up shit that can happen to a human.

There was a moment on Friday that I felt like opening up and having myself cut loose. I love making myself an ass on the dance floor...it's just fun. I started dancing with K for a bit, grabbed her, then just tensed up. It felt so completely wrong because I'd never be able to fit all the points for a good dancer. If I got those good dancer points I'd probably fall into the category of "hitting on her" or "being a creep."
That criticism is something that I don't want. Janee blasted me when I got home, but I care about what she says...I couldn't give a shit about what some chick in a dress says about my breath, actions, or demeanor in conversation.

The whole weekend I was tripping on words and feeling like a knot was in my head.

The odd thing is though, I really, genuinely care about that girl (K). When someone opens up to me, even once a while ago, about something personal...I can relate. I have a lot going through my mind at all times.

Even though he didn't understand it, I told Falcon on the way home that I felt like I got the Euthyphro eye back. Straight thinker. I understand a bit about self-actualization and piety through it's opposite. It feels good.

It will be frozen in my mind though, when I was sitting at the computer. She was just laying on the bed, hair carelessly messed up across her face. Her glasses set square on her prominent nose. The odd black line separated her two front teeth. I remember just looking briefly about the way that the skin below her chin looks when she lifts up her head. Her crooked feet, deep brown eyes, and the moles dotting her complexion gives her this unmistakably remarkable appearence. It's incredible. She's a really quirky looking girl.

If you couple that with what's underneath it though it's phenomenal. Intelligent, driven, and sassy (or...bitchy), would be three perfect words to describe her. She's a multiflora rose. I would have loved to just curl up next to her and peel back a stigma or two. Make her feel loved.

I wouldn't dwell on this so much if it didn't fit so well into everything I've been wondering about.

Would she be so discontent if she pursued the path like Maria or Eden?

When we were on the dance floor she said "find a cute girl and dance with her!" I approached and started...doing what I consider dancing but people around me think is a sideshow...and she said "no, a cute girl." When I stepped away...all I could think was "there's nothing that this place could really offer me...I've tried. I've had it (making out with 6 girls in 1 dance party). I don't like it. I think that the sustaining connection that a man gets when he shares his weakness with a woman who wants his strengths is so much more fulfulling."

If there were three words to describe me they would be: rugged, intense, and curious. Coming home was a beautiful contrast. The town of Oxford resembles a whitewashed marble countertop with fancy cookery on it. My home is like my countertop: functional, messy, me. Coming home and drinking with my sisters and Josh was perfect. I got to be outside in open air, light a fire, talk about planting, and enjoy the moment where I could be completely myself and embrace what people thought of me. No condescending glances from girls with laptops or men with buttondown shirts. The conversation went from evolution to flipflops and riding alpacas.

This is what the blonde primate fit in with perfectly. I'd love to learn how to contra dance, salsa, or even rage to lady gaga. I vividly remember one of my first nights in college at her house where we all were just waving our arms and jumping in what I called a free-association dance. It was about feeling. If you got close to someone your movements wouldn't have to be dictated by what other people were doing. If you were far away you could be as subtle or maniacal as you wanted. You could edge up to a soft spoken cute hippie or jump and kick around with your friend. No one gave a shit about propriety.

That biting wittiness that K has is really sexy. In no way am I attracted to her though. She'd probably either use the gesture as a self-esteem booster or gossip food. She's consticting. I felt something this morning though; if I were that iconic figure on top of the rocks things would be different. If in some strange alternate dimension I were charming (in the traditional sense), clean, a foot taller, less inclined toward function and more toward form, richer, and enjoyed the wrappered life...
I would have liked to cuddle up with her. As is, she's a solid friend and an interesting person. There's no way in hell that I'd try for it to be any different. There would be no point, both of us would hate each other. I just want her to be happy.

Seeing this in comparison to what I am and who I pursue has given me a lot of clarity. I'll still put on that fake face and plow through whatever tuttee girl I really want to get with...but when it comes down to it, I want to be with someone who is a little...wild, in a wild way.

I have a lot to look forward to this week. Possibly getting back in the hospital. Selling my silver and getting a bit of coin for a trip, or a quarter of school. Meeting with the professor to talk about senesence. Talking to Mathias an Jillian. Losing the constriction of mandated activities...playing outside. It's going to be a great week. Maybe I'll get to see that bibliotecaria again. If there's any girl I'm excited to keep taking out spring it would be her. I'm also pumped to go out to a movie with Star and Mengxuan.

Lab job kicking back up next quarter. It's going to be rough/rewarding.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Sprung

I expected this: the collapse of the picturesque archetype. I always imagined myself as the strong, impermeable, conquistador/researcher/monk. If you have seen the fountain you'd know what I'm talking about. This quarter was a disaster. I got wrapped up in thoughts about death, knowledge, and the concept of taoism vs. western religiosity.

I just got out of my Ochem exam. I couldn't sleep last night. The blonde called at about 2:30 a.m. to see what I was up to. I was asleep for the whole conversation.

Everyone said that organic chemistry is challenging, and I always took the "wow, you're doing a lot" for granted. This quarter really was...a lot. Toward the 2nd half I realized that I would be manacled tightly to this schedule when the world around would pass. This week, finals week, I realized that I was too late to recover.

My GPA has been a concern for me always. It's going down after this quarter. I expect it will sink to a 3.5, at the worst...it's still lower than I want.

Instead of frantically rethink my schedule to see if I can take something to compensate I realize: it's time to cut back. 2 majors and 2 minors is enough...too much. It was easy when I had that Euthyphro clarity: I thought something was the way it is because of some direct purpose and I thought that I could break through to it.

Instead of blitzing medical school I realize now what I have to do: what I want to do. Everyone in the Spanish major seems to gravitate toward teaching English in Spain. This is something that I'm going to do for a year. No master's before this. No unnecessary work at the expense of my happiness.

They used to be the same. Last spring I took 20 hours of heavily weighted science classes...and performed very well. All I could think about this quarter was that pre-med advisor saying "you have a long way to go. No rests. No 2nd thoughts."

I realize that a psychosocial moratorium is necessary. I realize I'm rambling.

My associate in Dr. Chen's lab is very helpful when it comes to this stuff. At the beginning of this quarter I looked at him with an air of slight condescension. This also is going to stop.

1 year off travelling the world with a working language job. Maybe I'll throw in some research in another country (I'm thinking public health in Ecuador...maybe I'll be a biolab tech for something involving parasitology...which always interested me).


Although...if I passed Ochem I'm likely to continue with another quarter of Ochem, phys, biocalc, embryology, and evolution.

My mind is dead right now.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

drive

This last week has been exasperating. Cops have been to my house twice in a few days, I'm getting destroyed studying for finals, my headaches are getting worse, and I've been dragging myself down emotionally over a bunch of things.

This is going to be over very soon. Time seems to drag when you have a book in front of you with a bunch of figures that seem meaningless. Couple this with the fact that it's your job to explain things to students that are taking the class...and you can't remember some things. It's flat out depressing.

Although I see the destruction that "carpe diem" can bring if it is totally unchecked...I am aslo infuriated by the extraneous waste of time that some studying can be. Why would I want to study 4 years in medical school if I'm going to just forget it when I specialize? This is really frustrating to me. If I were reading philosophy I'd get this rush of euphoria whenever I think in a different way. With literature, a good story can trip my emotions...which is also really exciting. Science gives me a feeling of prolonged frustration...that subsides into a feeling of power when I understand a little more about the way that things operate. I have always been a kinesthetic learner. Labs seem to teach me way more than staring at the krebs cycle.

I'm almost done with this stuff though.

Bernardo needcs to be remembered. My roommates woke me up 4:30 a.m. Friday morning because this Mexican wouldn't leave our house and couldn't speak a word of English. After talking to the guy for about a half hour I discerned that he was here from Mexico on some sort of temporary work permit, he had a wife, he wouldn't tell me where he worked (he tried to tell me that he was a cop about 4 times but I kept asking for I.D.), he kept saying weird sexual things in Mexican lexicon, the reason he was at our house was because he was looking for a female friend...he wouldn't say who it was or how he knew her...and he was very drunk. At one point in the conversation he distinctly went on about stabbing...but some of the referent pronouns were indescernable. After a half hour of telling him that he had to go...I left.

When I was out of sight and he was out of the house I told my friends to call the cops. I had to go to the station and report all this. The cops told me they'd picked him up before for groping and stalking. In the mix there might have been allegations of attempted or successful rape...but I can't say for sure...I was really tired (like any normal person would be at 5 a.m.).

The cops came to my house last night when one of the new guys had too much to drink.

I wrote the number 40 on my hand. 40 minutes tomorrow, I'm going to dedicate to either playing an instrument, writing poetry, or doing something that I used to love...but let fall by the wayside for more "practical" and less passionate things. I spend at least that much time walking places. if I start riding my bike, watching less TV downstairs, sleeping in less, facebooking less, working faster, or focusing more then I would be able to reinvigorate my dormant passions.

I realize that I have become an intense person. My conversations are very serious and intense. Bitterness creeps down my spine. It seeps into my fingers and comes out in repetitive compositions about my life. Instead of the cathartic funnel-breaking release...it is a constriction that further drains the flow of creative thought.

I should spend no more time staring at my DARS thinking about my future and how I can maximize my effectiveness. I want a cheap motherboard for my computer, a cheap recording software, a cheap microphone, and a half hour a day to record songs with some friends I let drift.

I made a resolution this year to be resolute in pursuing passion. I have lifted more, attained a transient physical relationship with someone that I have liked for years, and got the position in the fraternity that I wanted. This has been good. However, it's time to branch out and regrow my old ties. I love the guys in the basement...but scrolling through my phone, I realize that all my hippie friends have graduated or stopped talking to me. My life has less contrast and less balance. Instead of loathing my decision to let that slide, I'm going to do something about it.
Also, my classwork has sucked lately. It's like I've been in a winter funk. This is not what I envisioned when I said that I'm going to let loose the spring.

Bobby knows of a scholarship I might be able to grab for puerto rico this upcoming winter break. This would be the perfect scheduled catharsis at the end of the gauntlet to a professional and beautiful life. I'm going to ask him about it...but I'm not going to let myself aggregate the enjoyment in life to small vacations. The tanline on my wrist isn't going to appear...the watch is going to come off in the light of the sun with more frequency. This is it.

Now back to studying. I feel better. I'm going to read this to myself once in a while and ask if I've lived up to it.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Weather

Alice in Wonderland was amazing. I felt like I lost myself in the baroque childish nature of the film.

Last night I slept very well after a curious experiment involving rice crispy treats and a great deal of salt and vinegar chips. My mouth burns today.

I understand that bipolar disorder runs in my family. Sometimes I get rash emotions that come quickly and influence my decisions in bad ways. I think that logic can control it most of the time...but then again I'm back to the old question: Can we reason away emotion?

I was really frustrated today at my cell biology professor. She's a "squirly old woman" as my friend says...and her class is virtually unbearable. Cells are fascinating...but a saggy, monotone, nasal, ancient, short, unenthused, sadistic, unpleasant, swine of a woman completely destroys the subject. I worked my ass off on a project recently...understanding and experimenting on the cannabinoid receptors in peripheral nocioceptive neurons...and all her times to check the paper were full. I looked at my friend's paper after she "checked it" and there was ink all over it. I don't know what she expects from us...but some people signed up for like 2 or 3 times...which left me nothing because I never know my schedule until the week it happens (the uncertainty of tutoring has become all too annoying lately).

Thinking about it...I have very little respect for many aspects of Ohio University. I used to love it here freshman year...but as I grow older I see more and more cracks in the sidewalk here. The judiciary system, administrative decisions, and quality of education is not what it should be in the biology department. It's like they try to fail you. Some lab-rat profs shouldn't be teachers. There are the articulate and interesting types (Dr. Sue, Dr. Zook, and Dr. Berstein were very entertaining), but the pleasant experiences given me by these teachers are tapered by the fact that lecture is a deadzone for learning. My friend James doesn't even attend his Bios 170 class because the lab-rat prof is so awful at teaching that it's more beneficial to just read the book.

Occasionally you have a teacher brave enough to teach in a non-native language. This is spectacular; I know how it is to try and communicate with someone in a different language. I went to Spain for about 2 months. Therefore, the difficulty facing foreign professors I can understand...but there's no excuse for a large chunk of the inept teachers here at OU.

English department: phenomenal. Spanish: acceptable. Chem labs: Straight out of the 50's...where is the money going? Bio: Apart from the research...leaves plenty to be desired.

When will universities really focus on teaching? I think that it should be mandatory that a professor have research experience...as well as a fraction of education background...or at least basic human social skills.

Right now I have an interesting prof for chemistry, a fun Spanish teacher, and a stern but dynamic math teacher. I leave cell bio in a bad mood though. 3 more days of it. Woo!

It's so beautiful outside. I'm going to have a good day outside from that bad cell bio thing. I know my GPA is going to go down quick this quarter. I'm at a 3.6 this quarter...I'm probably getting a 3.0...which will bring it down to a 3.46 according to how many credit hours I'm taking. Next quarter is the same courseload...but I have the same Ochem and biocalc professors...and I have a better physics prof.

I should go do some physics before my 4 pm tutoring session.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Hoops

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KCci4mEOhvU

The relative complexity of simple interactions astounds me. Last night we threw a party at my house; it was a lot of fun. I met up with my friend Bobb IV and had some Estrellas. I threw up in my sink. Overall though, it was a great night.

Anyways, I'm thinking about how tough it is to muster up the strength to jump through these hoops every day. Tomorrow I have a cell biology paper due, Ochem reading to finish, a physics quiz to complete, Spanish papers to write, and appointments to make. The weather is nice outside.

I feel my body...every part of it. I have arms and legs that want to be outside running, playing soccer. This isn't possible though...because I have so much shit to do. I was sitting on the porch this morning contemplating the insanity of last night when I realized that I don't want to continue with this quarter. It seems like nothing good has come out of school this last 9 weeks. 2 more...thats all I can tell myself.

Last night we talked about travel, life, and I rambled some stupid philosophy all over the conversation. I remember meeting that French girl in Spain...and how much more interesting and dynamic she is relative to the majority of the American girls that I meet. I understand that this is a generalization of Americans...but generalizations exist to save us time and energy...some are very detrimental (racism) but a lot of them have their place in maintaining our biological fitness (such as a common fear of all snakes even though only a fraction of them are lethal). If I tried to date absolutely every girl with rich suburban parents and a sense for fashion I would probably go insane.

Ugg boots and north face jackets are a common way to differentiate people of this caliber on a superficial level.

I was getting pizza this week when I sat down next to 2 girls talking about dancing. The conversation moved to ass shaking and they talked about that for the 15 minutes it took me to finish eating. The conversation made me think a lot but simultaneously was very interesting because the girls were very attractivel; they were "out of my league."

Here's where I get off the bandwagon though. Because I am such a critic...I deconstruct myself to the point where it's almost inevitably hopeless...Napoleon complex.

Napoleon was short in stature, but described his outlook on life with the phrase "Power is my mistress." I will never be tall, attractive, or in most ways physically desirable to the majority of the female human population (probably the most incredible and confusing living creatures in the universe). I think this every day when I wake up...but it doesn't keep me awake when I lay down to sleep. Napoleon compensated for his physical shortcomings by being a badass...

I'm not saying that this is what I am aspiring to, but I am saying that the heightened intelligence of this species has allowed for people who are genetically inferior, like me, to reproduce and be "successful" in life by using their intelligence effectively.

This is where philosophy and biology come in. With biology I hope to raise myself to the level of being a desirable companion for an interesting woman. This will be attained when I have a "successful" career as some sort of physician. Herein lies a paradox however...I would never want the kind of woman that wants someone for money.

I have this debate in my mind often. In the shower, walking to class, or while cooking breakfast I turn over the idea of companionship and romance. This is part of the reason why I want to leave the country so badly. I dislike the fact that men and women salivate over posessions, power, and physical things. In other countries, people seem to place more value on experiences. I find this more valuable because experiences and memories may not be tangible...but, as a large chunk of the philosopher community might argue, we only know and understand the world through memories. Every passing second is only understood and interpreted once we have it stored in our memory (in the hippocampus...I can't wait to understand this when I take neuro next year) and interpret it with our logical frontal lobe.

My sisters are the kind of girls that seem to get it. Janee never looks at a catalog of purses or boots. She goes for the luxury of practicality. Corina keeps a level head as well...although she's less into the whole farm thing, and more about practical "modernish" things.

I just get confused by some women. Shopping blows my mind. Someone poured their time into getting those little green pieces of paper...and you're going to hand them to someone in order to get a shiny thing that hangs from your ear...or an odd shirt that someone tells you is cool to wear.

As a scientist I have gained a substantial amount of knowledge about human interaction. It's almost to the point where I can predict behavior. Wearing ratty clothes causes the majority of people at OU to not want to talk to you. Wearing no shoes would get you some interesting looks as well. At a party, you can say a certain set of things to people and shift your discourse of conversation in accordance with what their feelings and reactions are. Manipulating your language and appearence well will get you what you want. Getting what you want is power. Language is used to attain this.

Language. James Joyce. Free association. Brownian motion.

All of those pictures in that order has a great deal of meaning to me. They are all isolated things...but have some sort of neural connection that causes me to associate the memory of one with the rest of them.

Again...I digress too much.

I am naturally drawn to "different" women because I am very "different." The term "different" in this context means that they're not the prototype that the media (specifically MTV and VH1) try to stamp on you. Alison, Amanda, Ambre, Mengxuan, Sarah, and every other girl that I have had a prolonged relationship or vague romantic interest in has had some distinguishing characteristic that sets them completely different from the standard that is portrayed in the cookie-cutter conformist culture that a lot of women aspire to.

I'm going to challenge myself...I do this a lot to keep my thoughts in perspective. Are they really different? Alison is an environmentalist, vegetarian, non-drinking, athletic, cultured, and positive person. She has a host of philosophical inconsistencies that annoyed me...like her enjoyment of the show "made" on MTV...and how we would always drive to a coffee shop to talk about why the environment is being destroyed by the auto industry. I can't be a critic of her though.

Now that I'm on the subject of it...everything just rushed into my head at once.
There are 3 or 4 things that set me against the grain. 1. Alison put me in college, showed me kindness, and we pushed each other to be more enlightened and good. 2. My childhood. I'm not getting into it. 3. The direction of a man that I will only refer to as "the professor." His guidance and challenges have caused me to be an articulate and accomplished (according to the comments of the professors in my English classes) critic of literature and philosophy. He's the only person I know that can floor anyone in an argument. His rhetoric is incredible, his knowledge is immense, and his compassion is limitless. He is a pastor, nurse, and professor of history and philosophy. He is the sole reason that I haven't given up all hope of christianity making any sense in my life.

These things caused me to pull my head out of the sand (sorry for the trite analogy...I know ostriches don't actually put their head in the sand when threatened...they kick whatever is threatening them and run away. This old wives tale of the ostrich came from a Roman writer named Pliny a couple thousand years ago). Some days I hate it. I wish that I could actually attain lasting happiness by running the gauntlet of consumption and desire. This template doesn't suit me though. I like books and discussion. My excessive obsession with Lady Gaga is a strange desire to be normal...which usually results in a dance that everyone around me thinks is hilarious.

Again. I digress. I was challenging myself and I reiterated something that I already knew. These girls are different. They have to be to have any sort of reciprocation with me. I am sexually attracted to intelligence, talent, boobs, and nice teeth. I love a good smile.

A random thought in my head has to come out. How can I be sitting here pushing these buttons and not fighting someone, eating something, or having sex? It's such a weird phenomenon. Thunder and I talked about it for a bit...we would not have any complex society if we didn't practice this (moral?) self denial. This computer would never have been invented by a bonobo. Everything about this species seems to be focused toward excess. The phenomenon of "free time" has given us a lot.

back to what I was saying about women. I want to leave the country to get that fresh perspective from someone that I can have the luxury of experience mattering more than tangible superficial things.

I think this depends on the culture though. The Chinese girl that I dated for 5 or 6 months was very geared toward monitary success...to the point where I couldn't see past it; consequently, I couldn't see her. The French girl was a nihilist...but she made it so refreshing. She saw my tattoo and looked at me with beautiful brown eyes and said "You will not go to the paradise. This is todo." Instead of being depressing as fuck...I was really happy to be walking the banks of the rio Tajo with her. I'm going to have to work at it, but I really want to see her again soon. It's a really high hoop to jump through...but I've got a running start: I have a fifteen lb. bag of silver stashed in my room. It's 99.9% pure...so it's worth a plane ticket to Europe. Maybe I'll go for the harvest next year? Maybe I'm dreaming. That silver would pay for a quarter of college. Maybe I'll get a good chunk of loan money.

I'm going to experience Alice in Wonderland with Amanda, the blonde primate...later today. I feel better about "us" now that labels are actually off. I get the feeling we'll gradually drift apart...but that's not as bad as chopping a relationship up with a meat cleaver.


Time is passing...so am I. Organic chemistry isn't going to study itself.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Break

I am a scientist. I analyze things to the point where no one else wants to look at them anymore, and mos people get sick of my input on tedious things.

My field of study, at least for the first 19 years of my life, has been philosophy. My lifelong goal has been to understand people.

That's a very brief explanation of myself. I'm sure you'll read more of it dispersed in this website.

The most recent thing that happened, this morning actually, was a text message to this little blonde primate that I enjoyed spending time with. Not much emotion can be conveyed in a text. The smiley faces don't cut it 90% of the time. Especially when you're texting someone to say that you shouldn't be anything more than friends.

Emotions are also strange things that I keep tabs on. When I was around her I felt absolutely incredible. I loved just laying there and taking it in. On my current course society is going to refer to me as a "doctor" when I'm done with the social phenomena "school" and "internships." My current fields of interest are neurology or genetics. However, all the societal pressure and conformist machinery that is hammering around me when I go about daily life would grow dull...and I would just think of how magnificent it was to breathe, be alive.

Now I'm sitting in a chair. Curious about why I (chemical randomness) do what I do. This blonde female primate was fun, irrational, attractive, and a perfect contrast to my rigid and pathetic studies. Human tendencies, and organisms in general, have always gravitated toward consistency and security. Time is the perfect device with which we love to cut up our lives. I have it all mapped out. 4 years undergraduate (the fourth will be a cinch because I'll be done in 3), 4 years medical, 4-5 years residency, kids, retirement, and death around 94...today I am meeting my friend for drinks at 7...monday I will be up at exactly 6:45 to make some (weak) coffee and instant oatmeal...I'll listent to the news, shower, maybe . Then the treadmill kicks in: 8-9 physics 9-10 organic chemistry, 10-12 studying for cell biology, 12-1 cell biology, 1-2 lunch and biological calculus study, 3-4 lifting weights and running, 4-5 study and figure out what to do for dinner...then after that I jump off the treadmill and go out to dinner most likely with a friend...then meetings and phone calls and books...

The bakery girl threw a wrench in that occasionally. In an awesome way. I'd miss a class, or skip a meeting. It was a little beautiful chaos in my day.

Then it just became chaos. Thoughts, emotions, and apprehensions affected study. Study is a means of gaining power and increasing my effectiveness with my "goals" in life. It boiled down to a little thing in life called "choice" and "sacrifice." The second one is frightening. Sacrifice...giving up something for something greater.

Sacrifice. That word reminds me of a botched interview with a neuro professor. "Would you be comfortable injecting baby mice with barbituates...sacrificing them for the good of science?"
I hesitated.
"Then this job is not for you!"
Fuck. I missed a great opportunity.

Here's where I sit: Humans develop a great connection with these things called "families." Basically families are this great thing where a group of people who share a lot of commonalities in their DNA (or want to share via sexual repro) stay together and interact frequently. These interactions affect their behavior. People prefer to help a fellow primate in their "family" over almost any other naked ape.

My family is the same. I have a loving mom, a stern and caring father, and 2 amazingly fun sisters. However, incapacities have wrecked parts of it. Autism, alcohol abuse, traumatic childhood abuse, complex neurological conditions, and family hardship have all negatively affected my extended family to the point where I fell obligated to help them.

This brings me to another thing that has been a complex and extended study of mine: POWER. $$$$$$ $$ $$$$ $ $$ $$$
Those little signs represent a thing called "money," which is a complex exchange system that represents the ability to make other primates do what you want. You can take away their family, force sexual intercourse, murder, or take things that other naked apes have created if you have enough of it...and no one can stop you. The people that have it enstate complex systems to keep it (such as the food and oil industries...don't get me started...I might not stop) in their posession. Despite the effects of carelessly discarded waste on the health of the rest of the naked apes on planet earth (not to mention all of our cousins: the rest of the mammals, arthropods, reptiles, birds, and creatures of the world) the people with the $$$ will do anything to keep it: http://www.muenda.com/blog/e-waste-pollution-the-trail-to-africa. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Planned_obsolescence.

Planned osolescence...there's a concept. We'll make it so it breaks so you have to keep buying them...or it will just be useless because of the softward in 2 years...wait! Where do we put it? Africa, they got space. Wait...not enough space. How do we make it smaller? Burn it. Then it gets in the atmosphere and spreads to other villages. Oh...cadmium, lead, and mercury in computer parts are versatile neurotoxins that are bad for people? Well I guess that might make people not want to buy a new ipod...
We primates are "caring" things. "Caring" means, in most cases, that people will be willing to "sacrifice" something in order to help another person. The people with the power understand that if people saw that this was goind on, the "caring" factor would drive them out of business.

Most information is, or was, attained through the mainstream media. Mainstream media is funded by corporations that perform exploitive pollution practices like this all the fucking time. Coca-cola, microsoft, and the oil industry have no corporate accountability. Europe got pissed abouty most of the shit coke was pulling...so they reformed it. America however, has this beautifully constructed power flux system that prevents that. Here's how it goes:
The naked apes in this country are proud of the system we have.
This pride leads to the aggravated intolerance of questioning.
This intolerance allows powerful people to manipulate minds unchallenged.
This manipulation takes place through the media.
The media runs on cash.
The cash runs on the decisions of each of us naked apes in elections...as well as what the powerful $$$ loaded primates do.
The powerful wealthy aflluent primates influence our government with a one-two punch...they own the different media, the media controls the minds of the people, the people control the consumption of products and the election of people to "regulate" the wealthy...how the hell does this make sense?
It stems from pride and intolerance.

Coupling the concepts of "family" and "caring" I choose to devote my time and energy to subverting what small piece of intricate and destructive puzzle. If I can gain wealth and resources to do research I can possibly reverse what's happening to my family from the medical perspective...as well as pour my monitary power into projects to help the proud and intolerant naked apes see why they shouldn't buy plastic water bottles...or get caught in consumerist monoculture in the first place.

This is where the blonde woman has to exit. She is incredible...but I have a straight and long road in front of me. I want this. I need someone who will bend with me and will make me better...

Time peels away when we're together. It grabs me by the wrist and jerks me along when we part. I need to get better control over everything that's going on...
It sucks so bad that I can't trust this primate with all my "emotions."
Emotions...they're an unfortunate blessing. They have the capacity to inhibit our most powerful weapon (from a biological perspective): thought.

Some might argue that we live only for them. It has as much power over us as the affluent lawmakers that manipulate us to view people who are caring as "hippies" or "environmentalist vegetarian freaks." If you suppress them...you're missing out on everything in life. If you give in to them...you have no control. The balance is one of the most difficult things in the life of man.

I always site this as a "frankenstein complex" because the novel provides a perfect example of the phenomenon. Victor wants to save life...to create it. This is his passion...it consumes him. He has a responsibility to his family and himself that he totally neglects. If he pursued science with a reasonable interest...he would have been a very successful and happy man. Instead...his passion wrecked (strangled) everything that he loved. The diction that Shelley uses describing his fervant passion is stunning.

TIME! I have let too much of it pass while I've been journaling my experience. I need to get to chemistry and physics. I still have that emotional knot in the pit of my stomach. I wonder how her emotions are at this moment. We had a very different approach to each other. I sensed that her emotions were nowhere near as strongly triggered as mine were. An encounter with me appeared as a normal event. Nothing to bend for. This is good. This is normal.

My thoughts drift again. I can't wait to get back on the mats again and learn some more fighting techniques. Winter quarter has been characterized by this chronic eye infection that prevents me from wearing contacts...and has me taking 8 painkillers a day to stave my nocioceptors.

Entonces...tengo que salir.