People who know the least tend to be the most certain. I see it day in and day out. I modified the original name of this and call it the Dumbass-Keurig effect, because it’s likely you’ll hear the dumbest nonsense when someone’s holding a cup of coffee and giving an opinion, completely oblivious to the fact that you want to put in an MRI order for them just to determine whether there’s a brain in there or not.
As an example, someone close to me recently had to deal with someone calling one of the most knowledgeable, educated people she knew “dumber than a box of rocks.”
It’s a tactic employed by ignorance to dismiss the presence of knowledge and intelligence. It’s corollary is the boring and clichè “no common sense” accusation.
Ignorance is a fixable condition. We’re all ignorant about a variety of things, often including things that deeply affect us. That’s okay, provided that we accept our lack of knowledge and understanding.
Which leads me back to my original point: Don’t leave your fingers inside the door frame when you close the car door.
“It’s not that evil wouldn’t recognize itself in the mirror. It never pauses for self-reflection. Evil is compromised by certainty. It’s not that all certain people are evil, but it’s demonstrably true that all evil people are certain.”
-Quote from an obscure American
Güino is incredibly close to being 18 now. I put him on a freshly-washed towel so that he could enjoy the warmth.
Yesterday morning, I got angry and couldn’t shake it. Rationalizing it, my attempts to set it aside failed. It was disrespect, coiled inside repetition.
When I finished work, I walked out into the cold breeze and stood in the middle of the trees, watching the crows berate each other.
Paradoxically, what gave me peace is that someone sent me a funny video. At its heart, it was a nihilistic reminder of the stupidity of how important everything seems. The cause of my anger hadn’t dissipated but I did succeed in punting it into the future.
“Anyone who posts words, policy, or statements by our current president for any purpose other than mockery or excoriation can no longer be taken seriously regarding any societal, political, or economic consideration.”
I can cite countless examples. The government shutdown can be ended without any Democrats voting in favor of it. By changing the filibuster rules, Trump and his Republican devotees can pass the budget bill immediately if they choose to do so. Given the increasing risk that Congress shall soon become an anachronism without teeth, it’s ridiculous to worry about tomorrow’s fire when our shoes are melting today.
People reposting Trump’s ill-informed and uneducated rants in support of something that’s factually untrue isn’t surprising. If racism, misogyny, fraud, and incitement toward insurrection aren’t deal breakers, it’s a deep well from which to draw an infinite spiral of malevolent ridiculousness.
If Trump wishes to be king, then let’s proceed with the coronation so that we can move on to a broken democracy. At least under that scenario, we will not be victim to an ongoing onslaught of “WTF”
moments, nor continue to hope for an end to the madness.
We can acclimate ourselves to the loss of the country we grew up in because we’ll have no other choice.
This isn’t politics. It’s madness and mayhem, driven by someone completely unfit to run a household, country, or company.
“You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.” Amy Lammot
If my ex-wife calls me a jerk, she earned the right.
If the friend I let down thinks poorly of me for failing to step in when I could have, that’s his story to share.
If I tell violent stories about my dad, they’re just as true as humorous stories about him.
If you had a toxic boss who drove you to near insanity, he or she can’t fault you for expressing it.
Every time I share this quote, someone discovers it for the first time. It’s liberating. But it also can be terrifying for people who’ve lived outside the bounds of kindness.
The Golden Rule perfectly encapsulates what we should strive for. Yet, people are surprised when we sometimes appropriately repay unkindness with healthy criticism.
“You never know what someone’s going through.” That’s what people tell us in a cautionary way. To give people the benefit of the doubt. There’s a lot of truth to that. But there is also a caveat, exception, and disclaimer. Assuming that someone is going through something difficult as a way to overlook bad behavior ASSUMES that you’re not going through something as bad or worse. So if you’re a witness to somebody being mistreated followed by them repaying the mistreatment equally, you also have to look the other way and give the benefit of the doubt to the second person. This is the kind of pop psychology and circular logic that leads us down unsustainable mindsets. Our energy would be better spent convincing people to self-regulate maturely instead of doing what amounts to victim blaming. In short, if you’re going to tell us to look the other way because we don’t know what someone’s going through, you also have to look the other way if we’re going through a bad time and give the first asshole what they’ve got coming. In this day of chaotic workplaces and even worse political and social frazzlement, shouldn’t we assume that everybody is having a bad day? Ergo, we can’t blame anyone.
“An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind” is true. But equally true is this: “If we are all going through it, the safest course of action is to walk through the forest as if every leaf conceals a snake.” And while it might be the safest way, it leads to a life of guarded disconnectedness.
As for the picture, I took a long exposure to see if the colors would emerge in the dark early hours this morning. It’s an open space hidden in plain sight, one which I sometimes use when I want to watch the sky unbroken in a panorama above me.
My cat Güino was not impressed by my morning thoughts. I tried explaining it to him, but instead, he wanted to do battle from 6 ft off the floor atop his cat castle.
If you read a book twice, the ending is not going to change. You react to it differently because, although outwardly you are the same person, your collection of knowledge and experience has changed you. Thinking about the past and diving into memories has the same effect. Unless you’ve changed the framework of how you view your past, you’re just cementing your identity and how you live your life. You’re not the person you used to be. It’s your mind playing tricks on you. That’s how habit and feedback loops of thought convince you that it’s more comfortable to keep doing what you’re already doing, even though you know it’s going to lead to the same result. .
This isn’t the kind of post I started out to write. I don’t mind expressing myself on the fly, nor do I worry about being vague when I shouldn’t be, or about not getting it quite right. There are so many reasons NOT to write off-the-cuff. But I usually don’t let that stop me. If you want to get into hot water or draw unwelcome scrutiny, just try openly talking about sexuality.
When we’re young, we don’t fully understand it. It takes experience, tempered with real-world knowledge of the rituals and social norms of sexual expression and interaction. By the time we’re older, our bodies begin to revolt, and our expectations can get skewed by people, circumstances, or frustration. It’s not supposed to be that way.
Most of us are sexual beings. It’s one of those facts that’s obvious. Yet, we spend an inordinate amount of time keeping it hidden in plain sight. Most of the time, anyway. We wonder about our attractiveness, even when we’re in a committed, monogamous relationship. Hair, makeup, clothes, body, just about everything gets intertwined in our sexual identity.
For much of our lives, seeking pleasure is a constant companion. When it’s good, it’s one of the best possible things we can experience. It’s free. It’s liberating. It creates a connection. At least it is supposed to. When love is present, it can be freely expressed without so much shame, guilt, or embarrassment.
Each of us has our own limits, boundaries, expectations, and fantasies. They aren’t something we talk about in our daily lives. If you’re lucky enough to have someone who loves you and is selfless enough to keep you satisfied, you are fortunate. If you don’t have unresolved issues, anger, or distance to keep you apart, you’re lucky.
Sex gets twisted into so many things it doesn’t need to be.
Because this is my blog, I can say anything I want. It doesn’t shield me from potential recoil, shock, or embarrassment if I share too much or share things people don’t want to know. It’s not as if I’m explicit.
I like writing romance stories. Especially shorter ones. I graduated with a woman who makes her living entirely from writing romance. The only difference between romance stories and erotica is that the latter breaks the barrier of explicitness. Romance novels use implication, innuendo, and roundabout means to signal all the things that erotica can express without limitation.
Is erotica literature? Not always. But it can be if done with elegance and care. Exactly like sex can be connection and intimacy, even though it is rendered in flesh and bone and a messy adventure. People will smirk at erotica, as if some people don’t watch “Dancing With the Stars” for inspiration, or watch steamy movies without realizing it is running along the same rail as erotica.
Imagination powers a lot of sexual expression. Just a fantasy does.
Because people don’t think about it comfortably, they can’t distinguish the subtle differences between fantasy and real-life expressions. They conflate a person’s fantasy life with their actual motivations.
As the long, dry spells of no sexual expression occur, I turn to erotica. I never thought I would be in a position to experience a life with such absences. However, as everyone knows, many relationships are more akin to roommate scenarios than to committed, loving, and intimate connections. I prefer erotica, whereas most people, it seems, turn to porn. Instead of reading what others have written, I prefer to compose it myself. To imagine people and scenarios. But all of them have the common theme of sexuality expressed as mutual satisfaction and selfless fulfillment. Don’t get me wrong. Sexual expression is amazing. But will anyone argue with the fact that it’s immeasurably better when you have someone who loves you and trusts you?
Perhaps erotica is old school in an era of so much technology. However, it’s about imagination, and very few things can trump someone who has a fantastic imagination.
It is fascinating to watch people as they live their lives and wrestle with the hidden fact of their sexuality. We don’t know what people think in the privacy of their minds. What turns them on. But we do know that sexuality ruins a lot of people and a lot of relationships. Especially when it’s absent or used in a way it’s not supposed to be. A big part of that is because sexual discussion is very taboo except in very limited circumstances.
What makes it worse is that the very people most likely to criticize or shame others are also the ones who are most likely to be secretly consuming all manner of explicit content.
It shouldn’t be the outliers trying to guilt us or shame us. We’re all created and hardwired with the drive for sexual expression. Most of us, anyway. And there is an entire spectrum of differing sexual expression and need.
A good, satisfying life is about striking a balance in all things. Sex is just one of those things. On the other hand, I often think of one of my favorite lyrics, “I didn’t buy the house for the kitchen, but try living there without one.” If one thing is out of balance, it creeps into everything. Modern society constantly reminds me that people will lose all reason in their search for what they think is missing. It is also the cousin of alcoholism and addiction.
I don’t like the idea of objectifying people. That’s one main difference between erotica and other means. It’s entirely imagination. And the kind I like requires people who are excited to experience another person, trying to find the right mix of pleasure and living life with someone who wants the same.
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 