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Honolulu

March 02, 2008

Be SPECIFIC when you wish for change.

Here is a NEGATIVE example of change:


The last time I saw Richard was Detroit in '68

And he told me all romantics meet the same fate someday

Cynical and drunk and boring someone in some dark cafe

You laugh he said you think you're immune

Go look at your eyes they're full of moon

You like roses and kisses and pretty men to tell you

All those pretty lies pretty lies

When you gonna realise they're only pretty lies

Only pretty lies just pretty lies


He put a quarter in the Wurlitzer and he pushed

Three buttons and the thing began to whirr

And a bar maid came by in fishnet stockings and a bow tie

And she said "Drink up now it's gettin' on time to close"

"Richard, you haven't really changed" I said

It's just that now you're romanticizing some pain that's in your head

You got tombs in your eyes but the songs you punched are dreaming

Listen, they sing of love so sweet, love so sweet

When you gonna get yourself back on your feet?

Oh and love can be so sweet Love so sweet


Richard got married to a figure skater

And he bought her a dishwasher and a coffee percolator

And he drinks at home now most nights with the TV on

And all the house lights left up bright

I'm gonna blow this damn candle out

I don't want nobody comin' over to my table

I got nothing to talk to anybody about

All good dreamers pass this way some day

Hidin' behind bottles in dark cafes dark cafes

Only a dark cocoon before I get my gorgeous wings and fly away

Only a phase these dark cafe days


Copyright © 1970; Joni Mitchell


I've heard this damned song over a hundred times, and it still makes me cry.

Perhaps you find a lot of Ms. Mitchell's material just too depressive, especially if you've never been an alcoholic or an addict. Where this piece really gets me lies in that last verse. Both of her characters are stuck in the same prison, using alcohol to tack their boats against the winds of change; their circumstances only look different on the outside.

And, of course, the dissipation continues all the while; it's only a slower and more insidious form of change.

That's the plight of eternal dreamers, in a nutshell.

Nutshell = nut's hell.

And American Dreamers are eternal dreamers. Y'all know the word for it by now, so say it with me: DENIAL.

Think of it this way: W is a fundamentalist dry-drunk dreamer whose administration has leveraged his privilege to create more negative change, arguably, than any other in American history. Now, the four oldest Justices are liberal thinkers. God help us if we put another Republican into the Oval Office. Do you want to see a real nut's hell? Just wait until the Supreme Court is stacked with conservative thinkers for the next several decades. You can kiss goodbye whatever remains of your already-reamed civil liberties.

So, yes, I'm suggesting that you choose the lesser of two evils. Obama is certainly a pretty man to tell you pretty lies (after all, he is a lawyer), but he is still our best shot at undoing the current administration's heinous damages to our civil liberties. (The war in Iraq will probably continue regardless of who gets the gavel.)

Now, no one who is reading this is likely to suffer more under one or two terms of Democratic rule than she is under a Republican heir to the current nut's hell. In the bargain, we might get a couple of new Justices on the Supreme Court who will sometimes rule in the best interest of the individual, rather than the corporation. That's the real reason to vote for a President.

"Only a phase these dark cafe days" is an expression of hope and futility. Optimism or wishful thinking? We sell off the present in the belief of a better future. In a nut's hell, this is the concluding message of THE GREAT GATSBY by F. Scott Fitzgerald. He would know; he was an alcoholic. And I think that's exactly where this nation is at this orgastic moment in history. "Orgastic" is the word Fitzgerald coined to describe an orgy of spending. But whether it's balling or malling, it all leads to exhaustion at some point. And thus we are enmeshed in the big-box paradox we've built: Pandora is vast. And microcosmic.

Are you out shopping for a home in the current foreclosure-glutted market? Take it from one realtor who spoke off the record: "Home" is a high-gloss box that rusts in the rain. You can't take it with you. Remember the moral of a different song, a much simpler one: "The cheese stands alone." And the bank is where they keep the cheese. What's a bank, then? Just a big, cold box.

So more about high-gloss boxes: It really doesn't matter whether we're talking about buying a new house or a new large-screen TV. Did any of you just get reamed yet again by technology "upgrades"? I'm talking about big-box Wal-Mart's switch from HD DVD to Blu-Ray.

That's the kind of bait and switch, negative change you can expect more of as long as you'll put up with it.

Society is an addict. We've been bred for it. How long will you wait to bottom out?

Here are a few ideas to get you off the gloss and on the road to recovery:


Blog Action Day Post: Consumption


Uncomplicate My Life, part one


Uncomplicate My Life, part two



Wishing you a beautiful day,

Bill Brent


[this page last updated: 2008.03.02, 8:25 p.m. Hawaii time]


LitBoy.com is a professional blog. Keeping it online costs me $200 per year. That's before paying me for my writing, photography, or anything else I do here. If you enjoy this blog, please use the Tip Jar at the top of this page. Your two-dollar minimum donation helps keep this banner-free site alive. It's quick and easy!

Zokutou word meterZokutou word meter
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This meter displays this year's contributions to date in U.S. dollars (after the funds processor takes its cut). Make a donation, watch the meter rise! Usually I post your contribution on my next blog post.

All original materials here on LitBoy.com (writing, photos, drawings, graphics, etc.) belong to Bill Brent. If you want to re-use something here, please ask. Higher resolution images are available.

December 31, 2007

My Favorite Resolution

Wishing you a beautiful day,

Bill Brent


[this page last updated: 2007.12.31, 4:15 p.m. Hawaii time]


LitBoy.com is a professional blog. Keeping it online costs me $200 per year. That's before paying me for my writing, photography, or anything else I do here. If you enjoy this blog, please use the Tip Jar at the top of this page. Your two-dollar minimum donation helps keep this banner-free site alive. It's quick and easy!

Zokutou word meterZokutou word meter
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This meter displays this year's contributions to date in U.S. dollars (after the funds processor takes its cut). Make a donation, watch the meter rise! Usually I post your contribution on my next blog post.

All original materials here on LitBoy.com (writing, photos, drawings, graphics, etc.) belong to Bill Brent. If you want to re-use something here, please ask. Higher resolution images are available.

September 13, 2007

WIN-WIN: Thinking My Way Outside the Economic Box of the American Artist / Entrepreneur

Piggybankcrop

Want to make an easy $25 and help support my work?

Through October 30, Capital One, my savings bank, is offering $25 to anyone I refer using the following code:

AM3Y4KYDF

You can open a High Yield Money Market Account:

- online HERE,
- or by calling 1-800-555-4904

Simply provide the code AM3Y4KYDF when you open an account online or over the phone. I get $15 per referral, so actually, you get the better part of the deal! And CapitalOne pays a great rate on savings accounts regardless of balance, currently 5.00%. More details at: CAPITAL ONE .

Normally I would not make a commercial announcement like this via my blog or email newsletter list, but I have been extremely satisfied with my CapitalOne savings plan. Plus, at this point I am doing my darndest to think creatively about how to stay afloat in the current economy. So I don't mind trading a tiny bit of pride and running the risk of offending someone here in order to help make ends meet. We all know friends, family, and colleagues who've taken a hit. I have, too. So this is one small way I'm fighting back. I don't intend to do this kind of thing very often, but I've decided that Fall, starting this year, is going to be my annual fundraising drive.

Not to worry — I'm not in dire straits at the moment, but you know what they say about an ounce of prevention. And, as a disenfranchised artist in this culture (please note the clever double redundancy in that phrase), I am choosing to be proactive rather than reactive with regard to my financial situation.

Typically, the last year of a President's term is bad for the stock market. I have managed to save a couple hundred dollars each month over the past several years by starting a ShareBuilder plan. Right now, I'm looking at cashing out a couple of very small but somewhat volatile investments while the market is still strong, and placing the proceeds in my savings plan.

Meanwhile, I'm doing my best to paddle against the stream in other ways:

- I'm clearing space by donating items to my local thrift stores and selling the more valuable stuff on eBay starting next week, HERE.

- I have been keeping a tiny little online bookstore at Amazon.com for five years now.

- I'm rewriting MAKE A ZINE!, my very first book (1997), for a second edition release next year from Microcosm Publishing.

- Royalties from my how-to book on sex are lagging a bit, and I'm taking up the slack by helping to produce a second volume of stories from the Literotica.com website.

- Paddle faster. I'm getting older, so I'm trying to work smarter, not harder. However, I just took on a small gardening job, just to make sure I can cover a bill or two.

And I'm still finding time to write:

- I'm a featured contributor to the seven-author anthology, ENTANGLED LIVES, just out on Alyson Publications. Details are HERE.

- I've just completed the first draft of a novel of modest length (about 50,000 words);

- and I'm about seventy percent into a second, longer novel.

- I've just signed a contract for a new short story to appear in a big-time erotic anthology. Due to the publishing industry's volatility nowadays, I don't pre-announce things anymore, so details on that to come, once it goes to press.


Here are some other ways to lend support:

- by donating via the Tip Jar to MY BLOG, RIGHT HERE. The Tip Jar is in the upper left hand corner.

- or by purchasing a gift from me for yourself or someone else via Amazon, HERE.

- or from me via eBay, HERE (opening by Sept. 20).

- And, of course, you can buy a copy of ENTANGLED LIVES, if that's something you would enjoy. You can send me a ten percent commission via Amazon by using THIS LINK.

Finally, any other Amazon.com purchases you make (aside from links via this blog) can also help me out. You can file the following code for future reference and paste it in at the end of whatever Amazon URL you are using:

/tag=billbrentauth-20

...and then reload the page, so that Amazon knows to send me a commission. (Now how's that for trickle-down economics?)

Thanks so much for reading this, and I truly appreciate your support of my work, whether or not you can help with the financial thing at this time.




Wishing you a beautiful day,

Bill Brent


[this page last updated: 2007.09.13, 8:25 p.m. Hawaii time]


LitBoy.com is a professional blog. Keeping it online costs me $200 per year. That's before paying me for my writing, photography, or anything else I do here. If you enjoy this blog, please use the Tip Jar at the top of this page. Your two-dollar minimum donation helps keep this banner-free site alive. It's quick and easy!

Zokutou word meterZokutou word meter
53.06 / $199.90
(26.5%)

This meter displays this year's contributions to date in U.S. dollars (after the funds processor takes its cut). Make a donation, watch the meter rise! Usually I post your contribution on my next blog post.

All original materials here on LitBoy.com (writing, photos, drawings, graphics, etc.) belong to Bill Brent. If you want to re-use something here, please ask. Higher resolution images are available.

June 22, 2007

UNCOMPLICATE MY LIFE, part 2

—for M. A.—

The power to make choices that reflect your true priorities and concerns is perhaps the most amazing gift any human can possess.

    --me, from part 1,  HERE.

There are many things in life that will catch your eye, but only a few will catch your heart ... pursue those.
     --Michael Nolan

(NOTE: I don't know which Michael Nolan he is, but his thought popped up on my homepage while I was writing this article. If you like quotes, you can check out this ThinkExist homepage, too.

Also,
this article is part 2 in an ongoing series. If you want more ideas about how to manage your life, CLICK HERE, and part 1 will open up in a new window. If you find this series useful or enjoyable, please consider leaving a tip of $2 or more in the Tip Jar at the top of this page. Thanks!)




Our choices determine whether we succeed or fail at uncomplicating our lives.

The quality of the energy we bring to these choices is really important. To become more successful at uncomplicating your life, start by noticing when you make choices or act with partial energy.

"Partial energy" is present:

-    whenever we do things half-heartedly;

-    when we feel overwhelmed or "blocked" (especially when we cave in to pressure from others);

-    when we find ourselves wishing that we were doing something else;

-    when we are distracted (full attention is critical to success);

-    when we are high on alcohol or some other drug (that's always a bad time to make a decision, especially an important one, or one involving someone who loves and trusts us);

-    and especially when we are indecisive. You never need to make a decision when you are feeling indecisive! That would be crazy, wouldn't it?

YoucantrushacatbookIn all of these cases, it is better to wait until the time is right. In other words, save your power for something you can focus on with your full energy. Bringing your partial energy to anything is a waste of your valuable time.

Remember that you own the right to change your mind about choices you have previously made. No one can take that away from you — unless you let them.

CatpinkclawsIf you sign a contract, and then you change your mind, maybe you will have to live with the consequences. But maybe there's a way to break it! I have had to break contracts, and sometimes I had to be pretty pushy about it to get my way, but it was always worth it. Or maybe there's a way to change your agreement Catjailbreakso that it is something you can live with. Really rich people do this all the time, and they get away with it; why shouldn't you? (Often their lawyers call it a "loophole.") You'd be surprised what you can change, once you bring your full energy to changing it. Sometimes a commitment turns out to be a bad choice. It complicates life in a painful way, and the only way to uncomplicate life and stop the pain is to break the commitment.

Cat01_2HellocruelworldWe all find ourselves faced with tough choices. When you are feeling the pressure of being at the bottom of the heap, sometimes any decision, however ill-advised, is better than making no choice at all, just so you can feel as though you are moving forward. These are usually pretty desperate measures, though. If you can step back and view your situation from a different perspective, even for a moment, you may help yourself avoid an even greater, less reversible disaster a minute from now.

FlyingcatIn other words, kiddo, look before you leap! When you come to a decision point, you can think of a crosswalk. You wouldn't want to walk across the street without looking for traffic first. The bigger the decision, the busier the street. So be sure that you have checked carefully before you make your move, and then make it with your full energy. (Stop walking once you're halfway across? Yikes!)

There are many ways you can check out the street before you cross:

-    ask yourself which choice feels most right to you;

-    ask yourself about the best and worst possible outcomes that could result from your choice;

-    ask someone whose opinion you trust;

-    ask someone else, just in case they're wrong! Ha ha ha! But don't spend all day worrying about it. Most choices are pretty easy once we're being honest with ourselves. More on that in a moment.

-    wait for a sign (some kind of "green light" — for example, something you overhear, or read in the paper, or simply realize all of a sudden, by yourself.)

BravecatI need to talk about this idea of being "honest with ourselves," because "denial" has become such an evil buzz-word nowadays. It seems like if you want to disapprove of someone else's choices, all you have to do is claim that they're in "denial" about something. Now, I'm not saying that everyone does this manipulative kind of behavior, or that it's always an unjustified judgment call. Still, it has become easy to point fingers and substitute the "D" word for doing the harder but more rewarding work of thinking your way through a situation from the other guy's perspective. (Often we call this "empathy.")

CatinfiniteRemember that you can't really control anyone else's choices for very long. That's a very good way to make yourself sick with anger and hate. Again, it is better to take this partial energy you are wasting on trying to bend someone else's choices, and move toward your own goals with full energy and unbending purpose.

4kittensfullattnIf you want good role models for full energy and unbending purpose, try watching animals. Other species are seldom lackadaisical about doing anything! Our pets, such as cats and dogs, seem to indulge in this luxurious laziness more often, but that is probably because they have been unduly influenced by foolish humans!

Yet even we foolish humans can achieve our goals with the certainty borne of a clear mind and a glad heart.

So I leave you with this thought:
Lionsmeetinggoals
Whenever you can meet your goals and have fun while you are doing it, then you are living in Paradise.
    -- me, again

That is what full energy looks like. Why do you deserve to settle for less?

Uncomplicate your life.




Wishing you a beautiful day,

Bill Brent


[this page last updated: 2007.06.23, 8:10 a.m. Hawaii time]


LitBoy.com is a professional blog. Keeping it online costs me $200 per year. That's before paying me for my writing, photography, or anything else I do here. If you enjoy this blog, please use the Tip Jar at the top of this page. Your two-dollar minimum donation helps keep this banner-free site alive. It's quick and easy!

Zokutou word meterZokutou word meter
43.55 / $199.90
(21.8%)

This meter displays this year's contributions to date in U.S. dollars (after the funds processor takes its cut). Make a donation, watch the meter rise! Usually I post your contribution on my next blog post.

All original materials here on LitBoy.com (writing, photos, drawings, graphics, etc.) belong to Bill Brent. If you want to re-use something here, please ask. Higher resolution images are available.

May 25, 2007

DESTRUCTO-PORN!

[DISCLAIMER: The following story deals with sex in a graphic way. It contains several of George Carlin's Seven Dirty Words, so if you are a minor, or offended by stories that use graphic language to depict sexual situations, please navigate ELSEWHERE before reading any further. Thank you!]




I love demolitions. Nothing makes me happier than to see a building turn into a stack of giant pancakes. Mighty, powdery piles of dust, rising like a nuclear cloud from what was once a monument to ingenuity and industry. I have fantasies of working in a wrecking yard, surrounded daily by the sounds of crushing steel and breaking glass. Cars being smashed into scrunch, like giant tin cans, transformed into permanently pent-up expressions of mechanical rage.

Toweringinferno

I can argue that one of the Beatles' most gripping songs was "Revolution." If John Lennon could make "de-struc-shuh uh-uh-un" into a six-syllable word, then I can make it my guilty pleasure. That song (and indeed, much of the "White Album") was Charlie Manson's Bible. Actually, I think Manson and I were similarly transfixed by the seductive way that Lennon bleated out that word. But Manson was a warped, delusional dreamer (like Hitler and Blanche DuBois before him). Not me. Mr. Helter Skelter believed that the White Album was his encoded, personal invitation from John and Paul to "kill the pigs." Me, I just like a good five-alarm fire.

PoseidonadventureposterStrangely, though, roadside fender-benders and similarly mundane intrigues of the fast lane leave me cold. (Two teenage geeks racing and dodging for the title of King of the Road? Yawn.) I only rubberneck for really gruesome crashes; I'm transfixed by gory spectacle. I'm a pig for it. I'll admit to being a bit of a snob on this point. I'm not a patient driver, and I hate delays. So I get righteously pissed off when I have to wait behind an eight-mile wall of stop-and-go traffic only to see a couple of slightly dented cars pulled to the side of the road with a bored-looking cop — nary an ambulance, mutilated body, busted engine block, or news camera crew in sight. Where's the glory in that? I feel conned, cheated, swindled. I hate wasting time. Wasted time is gone forever. True chaos is everlasting.

EarthquakemovieI'm an earthquake size-queen. Each increasing point on the Richter scale impresses me like the inches of a growing cock. A seven is better than a six. An eight is better than a seven. And a nine is rare indeed, an awful force to behold. I am awed by the havoc wreaked by a massive earthquake — and the terror that it strikes into the hearts of the huddled masses. I guess it's because, in this bored and jaded age, we’re seldom stripped to our primal emotions. It's a lot like sex; you can't fake your way through a great disaster. No clever, sick joke will undo the destruction that a truly horrendous Act of God unleashes. Each of us is revealed in his truest of colors.

SpringbreaksharkattackI get a burst of adrenaline and that weird explosion in the pit of my stomach when confronted with disaster. I wish I'd been choking on James Dean's cock, pushing his pedal to the metal 300moviewhen his ticket got punched. Why not go out in a blaze of glory? I'd have been boffing Marilyn's dead body when the paparazzi arrived in a flashbulb blaze. Now that would have been one hell of an orgasm. And at that moment of awful awareness, did anyone on the Titanic go down in more ways than one? We will never know, and that blockbuster movie epic refused to make it up — wimps!

Newworldposter300movie2Really huge fuck-ups change the world. I remember well the fearsome wonder I felt as age seven while the family next door watched its house burn black to the ground in a late night conflagration, solar orange against the moonlit sky. Would our home be next? I knew instinctively that the secret thrill I felt was a shameful, dreadful feeling that I could not share with my parents. They'd think me callous and horrid. If I confessed my glee, I'd fear divine retribution for my sinful, wicked thoughts — or at least a hard spanking. But maybe somehow, if I kept my delight to myself, I'd be saved by virtue of my modesty. I would deny my titillation and brainwash my way to purity. Through sheer will power, I'd change my evil ways.

My plan failed miserably. I have been fascinated by disasters ever since.

StarwarsattackclonesDisaster is profound. Destruction is uncompromising grandeur. Cataclysms change everything. Is that not sexy? I saw how our neighborhood's tragedy drew everyone closer together — the newly homeless family was showered with clothing, food, household gifts of all sorts, offers of places to stay — it brought out the best in everyone. Neighbors who were miserly suddenly grew charitable, they were inordinately kind, they expressed deep concern, they gave freely from their hearts. Is that not sexy?

CreaturemovieWe constantly talk of sex in explosive terms — cocks erupt, pussies gush, all have "shattering" orgasms — but admitting to being turned on by explosions is tantamount to being labeled a sociopath. Yet doesn't smashing something or ripping it to bits feel healthy, thrilling, healing in a vicious, hedonistic sort of way? Most of us are afraid to admit that it does.

Or am I just some mealy-mouthed hypocrite who'll fantasize destruction scenarios but turn into a blathering mess the moment I'm faced with actual tragedy? Hardly. I function quite well in a crisis. While everyone Apocalypsenowpolisharound me is freaking out, disasters make me calm. I get very cool-headed and think more sharply than usual. I drop my usual reserve, forsake the social niceties, and cut to the chase. I guess it's just my survival instinct kicking in. Yet in times of trouble, I also find people turning to me for inspiration and comfort, and I find myself giving this generously, but with a part of myself cut off — detached and observant. I'm in control. And this is sexy, too. Ask any top.

SnakesonaplaneSo my destruction lust masks my deep-seated desire for profundity. Banality wilts my woody. I'd rather hump a hero than bonk a banker. I'd rather blow a glorious, freshly dead corpse than a member of the walking wounded who's long been dead inside. Breaking glass, splintering wood, wrenching steel, shattering brick, fragmenting stone, they all make my pulse pound. I am hypnotized by hurricanes, tsunamis, tempests, gales, and all manifestations of the warring wind and the raging rain. And their opposite, the volcanic eruption. Fiery chunks of life spewed up from the earth in a never-ending war to reveal its hidden fury, a molten metaphor for the passion lying buried yet rumbling deep within each of us. Is that not sexy?

Whenworldscollide_3Within chaos lies the hope of salvation. In scouring the earth of life, we imbue it with a certain purity and grace. Destruction begets creation, the sexiest mother of us all. Some must die so that others may live.

EarthisunderattackYet, should some of us survive to start anew — in my heart of darkest hearts, I live for the day when the rules get chucked and we can make it all up from scratch. I'll plant life into every willing furrow with my charred, bleeding, dystopian dong. If only the strong survive, then I'll be crawling from the wreckage and fucking my way to the top of the heap. Meet me there. I'll be the one with the raging hard-on.



GpbookcoverAuthor's note: I wrote this story in 2001 for an erotic anthology titled GUILTY PLEASURES: True tales of erotic indulgence (ed. M. Christian, Black Books, 1-892723-02-6, (c) 2002), which was subsequently optioned as a featured selection of Doubleday's erotic book club and re-released in a hardcover edition (Venus Book Club, 0-7394-2286-3, 2002). Despite the anthology subtitle, my story is a satire of fetish confessionals, containing an ounce or two of truth. Which lies where is a question I leave to the reader. No cars, buildings, animals, or non-expendable humans were harmed in the making of this work.

[this page last updated: 2007.05.25, 9:35 p.m. Hawaii time]



LitBoy.com is a professional blog. Keeping it online costs me $199 per year. That's before paying me for my writing, photography, or anything else I do. If you enjoy this blog, please use the Tip Jar at the top of this page. Your two-dollar minimum donation helps keep this banner-free site alive. It's quick and easy!

Zokutou word meterZokutou word meter
40 / 199
(20.2%)

This meter displays this year's contributions to date in U.S. dollars (after the funds processor takes its cut). Make a donation, watch the meter rise! Usually I post your contribution within 24 hours.

All original materials here on LitBoy.com (writing, photos, drawings, graphics, etc.) belong to Bill Brent. If you want to re-use something here, please ask. Higher resolution images are available.

April 12, 2007

Mean Doggies, Nice Kitties

I am blessed with lots of natural beauty in my neighborhood. I love to go for walks in the afternoon, sometimes lasting for an hour or more. It's a good way for me to decompress, enjoy the fresh air, and get some thinking done.

However, our neighborhood has a lot of dogs. Most of them spend most of their day outdoors, and practically all of them start barking whenever someone walks past on the street, even at a considerable distance. It's terribly disruptive and annoying. Some of them are quite persistent. On occasion I will walk past as many as five houses at once, all with barking dogs out in the yard somewhere. All it takes is one stupid dog to set off the others. (The small ones are the most aggressive and obnoxious. Sometimes I think that the larger, calmer ones might let me pass in peace if the terrier types didn't incite them to join in raising a ruckus.)

I have tried a number of coping mechanisms, none truly satisfactory, but today I think I finally found one that works.

Anytime I start to think bad thoughts about dogs, I will think good thoughts about cats instead.

Cats, of course, have their own range of annoying qualities, but at the moment I find myself beset by barking bowsers, they don't seem so bad. So I think of soft, fluffy, smart, happy, quiet little kitty-cats, and suddenly the damned dogs don't bother me as much. I know this is no great revelation — replacing a negative thought with a positive one is an age-old tactic for dealing with life's little (and not-so-little) challenges — but I'm far from the most emotionally intelligent person in the world, so it's always a kick when I stumble upon something like this.

(To remind myself that not all dogs are so obnoxious, here is a picture of a cute, quiet puppy with the calmest disposition out of a litter of five in my neighborhood. Their Mommy brought them all to visit us yesterday:)

I am going to try this thought-substitution with all forms of obnoxious behavior to see what happens. When I am trapped in a restaurant or on a plane with screaming kids, I'll think about polite, intelligent adults instead. When I am stuck behind a slow-moving driver (which happens a lot in Hawaii, where practically all the roadways run a single lane in each direction), I'll think about fast bicyclists, or maybe picture myself running along a beautiful beach. How about oppressive forms of authority? I'll think about my tolerant friends instead. I will seek whatever image works to relax me and restore my sense of inner calm.

What this really boils down to, I guess, is the age-old dictum to count your blessings. Even if they're not my blessings, I can still feel grateful to be part of a beautiful world, even if my tiny corner of it feels rather ugly at the moment. Soon the ugliness will pass.

In other words, living well is the best revenge. I'll get it right yet.




Wishing you a beautiful day,

€Bill Brent


LitBoy.com is a professional blog. Keeping it online costs me $179 per year. That's before paying me for my writing, photography, or anything else I do. If you enjoy this blog, please use the Tip Jar at the top of this page. Your two-dollar minimum donation helps keep this banner-free site alive. It's quick and easy!

Zokutou word meterZokutou word meter
31 / 179
(17.2%)

This meter displays this year's contributions to date in U.S. dollars (after the funds processor takes its cut). Make a donation, watch the meter rise! Usually I post your contribution within 24 hours.

All original materials here on LitBoy.com (writing, photos, drawings, graphics, etc.) belong to Bill Brent. If you want to re-use something here, please ask. Higher resolution images are available.

April 07, 2007

THE BIG PERSPECTIVE: Stop thinking small, start living LARGE!

"Argue for your limitations and sure enough they're yours."
   — Richard Bach, Link to Amazon com Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah (1977)

"We still attribute to the other fellow all the evil and inferior qualities that we do not like to recognize in ourselves, and therefore have to criticize and attack him, when all that has happened is that an inferior "soul" has emigrated from one person to another. The world is still full of bêtes noires and scapegoats, just as it formerly teemed with witches and werewolves.""
   — C. G. Jung, Link to Amazon com Civilization in Transition, p. 130; quoted at: Projection of the Shadow

"Man will always howl and rage / against the infinite cage."
   — me, in poem, lost and undated

"I'm not a nag, I'm a motivational speaker."
   — magnet slogan on file cabinet next to this desk right now

"You cannot be a fierce force if you're always running around apologizing for it."
   — me, in email, 2005.02.05

"Right now I'm into 'reversing questions' about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness in order to break open some new energetics. The process is simple. Instead of asking, "Why don't I have enough?" you instead ask, "Why do I have enough?" Every negative thought that percolates up from my subconscious in the last four days, I've done this Link to Amazon com Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy approach mentally, and lo and behold, this calm, relaxing sense of well-being bubbles up from inside and my shoulders let go. I like this method; I want you to try it next time you get writer's block and tell me if it works."
   — my friend Romy, otherwise known as "Leane Roffey Line " (who got inspired after getting Link to Amazon com The Great Little Book of Afformations [sic] by Noah St. John and Denise Berard (ISBN 0-9715629-6-2) from a close friend for her birthday on March 17. The statement (in email, 2007.04.01 a/k/a April Fool's Day), is her synthesis of what they had to say.

Okay, so I didn't wait until I had writer's block. I keep having writer's blog.

Hee haw.

I sit typing at this window, and in the morning, birds might fly across the yard and momentarily rest near me on the other side of the glass. Sometimes I get the camera raised and focused soon enough, sometimes not. Due to the zoom lens' delay, I just missed a shot of a particularly beautiful bird, which would have been my first picture of a mynah. So I said to myself, "Maybe the oncoming generation of new digital cameras will be faster at this. Maybe I should get one." And then, without even thinking, I said out loud, "This camera is good enough. I get lots of good bird pictures." (Click on my birds link, HERE, and you'll see what I mean.)

So I think I'm using this "reversing questions" technique a lot already.

I'm also pushing myself to lead life from an even less defended position than I already do. So far it's working well. It feels like I'm gearing up for yet another quantum leap in psychic growth sometime down the line (six months to a year, I'm guessing). I can see new cracks forming in the current perceptual façade — even as I write this article.

In other words, my reverse-thinking friend's perceptual shaking-up exercise has been shaking up things for me here in lava-land this week, boosted by a three-day visit from one of the most active reverse-thinkers I have ever met.

Yet even the visitor, who is highly scrupulous and honest, seems blindsided at times by confirmation bias and ego projection.

It's tough not to be. It was also tough for me to be such an active listener for three days, despite plenty of experience with other highly verbal, extroverted thinking personalities. To complicate matters, I have a giant ego too. Or not. To paraphrase "Karma Chameleon," I come and go. How do you measure an ego, anyhow? Is it based on the strength of one's need for attention? Or how cranky the observer is on a given day?

In fact, here's an ingenious little reminder you can use, the next time you catch yourself having a difficult moment. I just made this up. Whenever you feel the need to find a SCAPEGOAT — for anything! — ask yourself:

Where's my

SCAP   <—click this!

EGO

AT?

In other words, what am I at war with, within myself?

Right now?

(Re-read the Jung quote at Projection of the Shadow if you need further information.)

Because this is the kind of reverse-thinking that's going to keep us from getting into World War 3. I mean it.

(But humorously, folks:)

Every mind needs candy.


So this is my gift to you today, a mind-candy mnemonic designed to short-circuit your mind-gamey [squawk! phew!] ego. No more scapegoats! (Hmmm, and goats smell pretty gamey, too, come to think of it.... Hens and goats; do they sound [or stink] like anyone you know?)

I like myself as I am, clown-shoes and all. But self-importance makes it hard for me to hear others. With my guest, though, I pushed myself not to tune out, and it really worked. So even though my extroverted side is out of practice (and not particularly strong to begin with), the visit was highly invigorating.

Remembering the Aloha Spirit LAW helped me meet the challenge, although I've noticed this week how sketchy my hearing and retention can be, whenever someone is steadily talking into my ear while I'm concentrating on driving. So at times I experienced mental overload and missed cues, even though the conversational content was rich and I didn't want it to stop.

(Some, stretching a metaphor nearly to its breaking point, would identify this as my "addictive behavior," whereas I would reply that I was merely raising the bar on my willingness to split focus while remaining in control of my vehicle. See what I mean? Unless you can somehow free yourself from your usual context, every perception will suffer from confirmation bias. To free yourself, allow yourself to get lost at least once whenever you travel somewhere new. Solitude works best for this. Ask a stranger — yes, a stranger! —  for directions, and follow the yellow brick road.)

Our interaction entailed a rapid, nearly constant cross-referencing of my brain's contents with my guest's, and while the high level of quantity and quality was at times exhilarating, at other times it nearly wore me out. Yet persistence pays, and you are reading part of the dividends right now. The experience brought to mind Ladybird Johnson's description of LBJ: "He's just more."

Thus I was called to draw upon a much greater degree of extroverted thinking and extroverted sensing in three days than I am used to in a typical week of solitude here. I'm quite used to free-associating for long stretches of time and rarely interacting with others for hours, if not days, at a time. It's delicious.

So I have a question for you, reader: Do you think that we tend to be better multitaskers when we are younger? Or is it simply that we have more energy and thus can get more done overall? I don't know whether I'm imagining that it was easier to be more interactive then, and to concentrate on more than one thing at a time, or whether I am more focused now and less overcommitted. In any case, I am beginning to realize how distracted I must have been in my twenties, to have multiple giant commitments in motion around me at all times, requiring a constant division of my attention. I probably didn't even notice.

Okay, some observations now:

  1. Akin to Emily's epiphany in Thornton Wilder's Our Town, most of what we call our "experience" —  including this post! —  is a half-remembered, half-submerged history we embellish to convince ourselves that we are perceptually accurate, morally correct, mentally sound, factually complete enough, interesting enough to be listened to, etc. (i.e., "okay"), when it is in fact mere wish-projection. This is most true when we blame others for faults we fail to see within ourselves. It's that SCAP EGO A-Talkin'.
  2. Yet this is not even the distorting lens of retrospect (that so-called "20-20 hindsight") at work; that would be tragicomic enough, yet most of us simply don't pay enough attention at the moment of interaction to accurately see (perceive) much of what is really going on around us in the first place. We are too busy planning our next speech, or thinking back on something we remember badly, or cross-referencing mentally with others. So we try to fill in the gaps by remembering what wasn't even there. Yet this is what passes for truth. (NOTE: As driver, I was often aware of a magnificent scenic moment that flickered past, and which my friend did not observe because he was busily —  and happily, for that's the main thing after life and liberty (so they say) —  thinking out loud. So we got to share his moment, but not our moment, if you follow my meaning. Sharing a rich and full mutual moment often entails both parties' being present and silent, inside and out. Sharing a joke may be the best exception to this rule. Sharing a song is probably a close second. All of this, of course, depends upon the level of mutual pleasure of the experience. The consistent inability to achieve such moments — I refer to them sometimes as "the moments between the moments" —  accounts for the failure of most long-term relationships.)
  3. Often I had a sense of déjà vu, due to my having driven around another hyper-thinking friend while in this identical tour-guide role, even over many of the same roads, back on August 1.
  4. Conversely, I found myself saying "I don't know" nearly constantly this week. When I was younger, not knowing something used to bother me to the point of guilt; it doesn't bother me so much anymore. (Such is the bargain of aging.) I find it very difficult, not to mention treacherous, to feign knowledge; actually, it's quite repulsive to me because it's a form of lying and cheating. That's bully behavior.
  5. Those with the clearest integrity of thought and action are the least likely to be in positions of political power because that kind of power is typically sought by men and women who prefer setting agendas for others to experiencing life from a position of observation and inquiry. Oh, and most politicians started out as bullies. Someone, give me funding for a study, access to the poli-ticks, and a polygraph machine, and I will prove this. (Dream on, LitBoy! But you can leave me a penny for my thoughts, anyhow, in the Tip Jar — it's at the top of this page.)
  6. Just before we departed the other evening, I treated my friend to ice cream. Later that night, I told hubby that someday I will reach a point at which my force of character (visually aided by a bit of gray hair) will be so strong that all I will have to say to discourage distracting people is to look them in the eye and state, "You don't want to make an old man angry," and they will just drop it, whatever "it" may be. I did a coded version of this at the ice-cream store, when I told the chatty employee that I'd had a grueling day and I wanted to eat my ice-cream cone in peace. He understood, and set about closing up the shop instead. This will happen more.
  7. So why wait to be old? I deserve that much respect right now. Sold.

I'm not a scientist, although I have gone through several major life-stages characterized by a habit of testing boundaries (perceptual as well as more subjective-moral-societal ones). Mostly this has served me well. (Thus stated an astute therapist to me once. He did not seem to intend it as a compliment.)

So ... is it a canonical piece of scientific inquiry to examine defective functioning in order to determine what is normal? How do we know this works? Wouldn't this process give rise to many cases of simply ignoring the obvious? How much of the time do we need to compare apples to oranges in order to understand apples? OTOH, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, that could still mean that it only appears to be a duck, right? Especially nowadays.

Isn't perception a product of our categorizing brain at least as much as it is of the five senses? For example, my hyper-thinking friend says he is afraid of swimming in the ocean, although he did discriminate between a fear of sharks versus whales at one point. He claims he's more afraid of the whales. Why is it that we can formulate theories, likely scenarios, and opinions (formed by us, or likely in our minds to have been formed about us by others — ah, the house of mirrors!) without needing direct sensory experience? Sharks versus whales? A man being attacked by either during a swim is a pretty unlikely scenario. This is imagination in action, right? Isn't imagination a perception just as much as any sensory input? So why is confirmation even necessary in order to have a perception? That's putting the cart before the horse. How do we ever really know for sure, anyhow, when a perception is "valid?" Validity is subjective. Any conflation of "information" and "meaning" destroys objectivity. A cognitive process does not equate to objectivity, either. (I'm sure that the logical-fallacy camp has a rejoinder for that one, boiling down to some "proof" akin to: "'Everything's subjective, nothing can ever be proven for sure' is a load of crap." You can visit Maturana on Cognitive Strategies if you're ever curious to hear a contrasting point of view. Be prepared to engage your brain and take your time.)

So much of what we perceive is based on confirmation bias rather than direct experience anyhow. Why do we so often create inaccurate expectations of outcome? Sometimes that happens because we see what we want instead of what's right in front of us. If you thought that George W. Bush wouldn't get re-elected, then it is possible that you suffered from confirmation bias. We all miss evidence constantly. It's Stone Age wiring in action: magical thinking, overconfidence, or "psyching ourselves up" to take on anything difficult and potentially life-threatening, such as hunting  big, scary animals (then) or war (then and now). A more rational approach would dictate self-preservation; save yourself, then worry about the village.

So if confirmation bias is hard-wired into our species, then arguably, it could have won George W. Bush a second term as the leader of the so-called free world, by appealing to an electorate's emotions; i.e., the need to believe "we" are invincible. (And yet somehow "we" invincibles are supposed to feel threatened by Weapons of Mass Destruction? Wow, talk about a perceptual gap... and a stunning display of SCAP EGO.)

Oh, and how to start living large? You mean, the self-help portion of this rap? Aside from all of it, already? Well, that's the simplest part, right here:

Step 1. Just keep doing the next right thing.

Step 2. When you are not sure what that is, ASK SOMEONE YOU TRUST.

...and if there's no one around whom you can trust, then ask yourself: why the fuck not?

Don't forget to check where your SCAP EGO is AT.

Oh, and the next time you find yourself starting to settle for less than you deserve, ask for more instead. That's one more secret.

You may not get what you want, though.

You may not need it anyhow.

...but once you can learn to discriminate reliably between a want and a need, you'll be truly invincible. Bigger than life.



Wishing you a beautiful, wise and foolish day,

Bill Brent


[this page last updated: 2007.08.10, 5:12 p.m. Hawaii time]


LitBoy.com is a professional blog. Keeping it online costs me $179 per year. That's before paying me for my writing, photography, or anything else I do. If you enjoy this blog, please use the Tip Jar at the top of this page. Your two-dollar minimum donation helps keep this banner-free site alive. It's quick and easy!

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April 06, 2007

VERBOXIOUS: the trouble with words. Post #3, 2007.04.06

a feature of LitBoy.com about the trouble with words

I am nice because I should be. I am kind because I want to be.

If that doesn't immediately make sense to you, then think of "nice" as "pleasant," and "kind" as generous.

This is my way of discriminating between when I feel obliged by custom and convention to be pleasant, which often I don't enjoy doing, and when I feel at choice to offer assistance and support to those who need it, or who don't need it but might appreciate the gesture anyhow.

So I am posting this as a reminder to myself about the difference, and perhaps to provoke some conversation about when we are at choice versus when we unwittingly do or say pleasant things that we don't really mean. Feel free to submit a comment with examples from your everyday life, and I will post anything I like.

That's a pun. What if we all just posted anything we liked? Wouldn't the world be a more honest place? We all dislike insincerity, especially when it is directed at us, yet it is so easy to slip into being insincere that we may not even realize we are doing it. Insincerity is a mild form of dishonesty, and perhaps the most pervasive.

So I am picking on the word "nice" in particular because it is so abused wherever I go. "Have a nice day" became the tritest, most ridiculed phrase of the 1970s, at least where I lived. Niceness thus became trivialized and denuded of sensuality — antiseptic. Now there's a word for you — antiseptic. It's rather anti-sceptic, if you ask me. Skepticism has been pummeled into defensiveness in many quarters. Being a skeptic isn't nice. Questioning life, the universe, and everything (authority, perhaps) looks good on a bumper-sticker, but how many of us walk the talk?

Merriam-Webster tells us that "septic" means "of, relating to, or causing putrefaction." In other words, decay. I have a problem accepting decay as a natural and necessary part of the environment when it crosses the threshold into my home. We live in the Hawaiian rainforest in a house that, this winter's rains revealed, has a leaky roof above the entryway and living-room areas. So right now, we have a mushroom fungus growing out of the ceiling. Not so nice. So the first day I spotted that, I demanded that my partner (the title holder) look into getting the roof fixed. Not very nice, perhaps, but very practical indeed. And certainly sincere. We'd had some warning signs (black mold growing on the white rafters) but as yet had taken no action toward resolving the issue.

Often we avoid resolving issues with others because we are determined to be nice at all costs. Yet all this face-saving doesn't go very far, if at all, toward facing up to our problems and resolving them. So, ultimately, we're only hurting ourselves anyhow when we try to avoid hurting others. Cutting off your nose to spite your face isn't very nice, now, is it?

The way to resolve this dilemma is to look for the greater kindness that results in being direct rather than avoidant. The universe tends to grant us what we need when we take good care of ourselves. (If you prefer the Judeo-Christian version, then you can say that God helps those who help themselves.) Being kind to yourself is easy. We often confuse it with selfishness, though. Yet healthy people, in my opinion, put their needs before the needs of others. This is not to say that you should ignore others' needs. That's where kindness comes in. So take some for yourself, and give some to others. Or, as Melody Beattie has said, "Self-care sometimes means 'me first,' but usually, 'me too." Being kind to yourself is fundamental to leading a happy life, rather than letting an unhappy life lead you around by the nose, and into decay. That stinks.

However, there are some people who don't want to be happy. It's obvious. They may claim otherwise, but their actions betray their lack of commitment to happiness. So the kindest thing to do for yourself is not to engage with them at all, or as little as possible. I once had to do this with a family member who was severely abusive to me in a verbal manner. At that point, her lack of respect for my autonomy (freedom of choice) had so deteriorated that it was impossible for me to be kind or even nice to her any longer. So the ultimate kindness to both of us, since she was so clearly unhappy with me, was to cut her off. I have never regretted this decision for more than a few moments now and then. It always passes quickly.

Ask yourself who deserves your kindness. It's your life. Don't be so nice.

[last updated: 2007.04.17, 12:30 p.m. Hawaii time]

 



Wishing you a beautiful day,

€”Bill Brent


LitBoy.com is a professional blog. Keeping it online costs me $179 per year. That's before paying me for my writing, photography, or anything else I do. If you enjoy this blog, please use the Tip Jar at the top of this page. Your two-dollar minimum donation helps keep this banner-free site alive. It's quick and easy!

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