Thoughts From A Madman

If you read all this expecting a nice bowtie conclusion, you’re in the wrong place. I also wouldn’t fault you if you read it and think I’m under the influence.

On average, if you’re sky diving, it takes about twelve seconds to reach 120 mph. Those twelve seconds are a piano riff of experience, one so fast that you only hear one thunderous notes as your fingers slide down the keys. Try to explain the indescribable sensation to someone who hasn’t experienced it. The same logic applies when you try to explain addiction, abuse, or a hundred other things to someone who has not personally experienced it.

Someone smart said that it’s the definition of a minute: “Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour and it seems like a minute.”  If asked to describe both experiences, words come quickly to recount the hot stove, whereas the pretty girl scenario provokes a desire to be poetic. 

Consider our biological imperative to procreate. In terms of evolution, it is our primary objective. It pervades us as individuals, and touches all aspects of society. Attractiveness is marketing. Most people are not aware of how much time and energy gets directed toward looking better. We clutch our pearls when people seem to be interested in sex, as if it’s not the elephant in the room. We’ve categorized it as one of the most important things in life, yet the one thing that we can’t talk openly about. This post will get fewer of views because I used the word ‘sex.’ Which is strange, because about 70% of the men who are on this app will pretend that the algorithm doesn’t feed them suggested content on the fringes of it, if not a spiral of partially clad women. The algorithm knows us even when we don’t acknowledge it.

Another friend posted about the ridiculousness of telemarketers. If everyone collectively refuses to participate, it goes away. And that’s true for everything. War? Prostitution? Banjo music? They exist because there’s a market.

Friday worship eats our modern life. Futurizing, anticipating, pocketing away the intervening moments just to be able to slide into perceived comfort that allegedly waits for us at the end of most of our workweeks. But Monday sits and waits for us. Take a vacation. You’ll think about it for weeks in advance. The blur of the glorious vacation flies past, leaving us to greet our mundane life when we return. Kodak moments give way to relentlessly washing dishes, paying bills, and surviving an endless series of orchestrated drama that most of us experience at work. 

If you can’t embrace the “chop wood, carry water” part of life, the odds of you being happy fall like a vase placed on a table near a cat. 

Did you know that the fastest camera in the world can take 156.3 trillion pictures per second? Despite its speed, it is still slower than reality. We look at clocks to see what time it is, as if it means anythimg other than it is our mechanical executioner, demarcating another flash of time that we didn’t dive into. 

Think of the famous painting of the Mona Lisa. Millions of people have seen it. Yet few notice that the painting hasn’t had eyebrows in centuries. We focus on the enigmatic smile, yet rarely notice the glaring absence of eyebrows. We do the same for people. Everyone has something noteworthy, yet we constantly filter and categorize people in order to makes sense of the world. But it’s our world, one limited to us. It boggles the mind that we are entirely different people depending on who is interacting with us. Each of them has their own idea of who we are. Even though we claim to be driven by logic, all of us know the agony of realizing that we can never change someone’s first impression, much less having become a totally different person.

People feel lonely despite most of us having complex communication devices that can connect us to almost every person in the world, every idea once expressed, all at once. We hold these devices up in an attempt to capture a moment, even though there isn’t really such a thing as a singular moment. It doesn’t stop us from having thousands of pictures on our phone. Like bibliophiles with a thousand books they never removed from the shelf.

Scientists now know that time seems to fly as we age because we have fewer new experiences, less revelry in different food, and less inclination to switch the radio to another music station. We attempt to become stagnant, limiting ourselves to the comfort of what we know. “New music sucks,” some say. Some new music sucks – just like some of the music that grooved valleys into our emotional memories sucked. “People are all the same,” is another refrain. “I’ve seen it all. Why travel? Everything is the same no matter where you go.” No, it’s not. You’re the same wherever you go. Finding new things becomes too much trouble.

The reason I love stories of people who break things is that whether they are pushed into or choose it, they realize that the long list of things that supposedly define us are all easily discarded if circumstances demand it.  

If you don’t think we complicate thingss, think of the Hawaiin language. It has only thirteen letters, yet can voice all the ideas and content that our more complicated language does.

PS The picture is of College Avenue. When I’m out walking in the dead of the night, I love to walk down the middle of the main roads and see how long I can walk without a vehicle passing through to interfere. I’m sorry Chad, that you’re on your way home at 2:00 a.m. after drinking nine craft beers and a cucumber-infused tequila. 

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