Learning from Fame Delusions

Are there some people who don't suffer from grand delusions?

For example, one day, I will be on the cover of TIME magazine. I will be hounded by reporters and flash cameras. Famous people will party at my place, and strangers will ask me for an autograph, or perhaps, to my initial amazement, a conversation. I will make the list for "top 3 people I would share a drank with." Now, take that delusion and consider how you would feel if it were all real.

First, you'd have some fun: "I'd respond to reporters this way," and "I would tell Bono this."

Then, you'd think about what would be nice but not necessarily the case. Like dating (can you only date famous people?) and hanging out with old friends (weird since you're different).

Finally, you'd conclude that maybe being so famous wouldn't be so great, but if that were the case, then you'd be forced to live with a certain perspective. I think this includes grace and folly.

Waving

A child who waved at strangers but never receives waves back always waves back later in life to the children who wave at strangers and so wonders how different they will become later in life from the child who waved alone.

Number Dogs

In fifth grade, Jackson learned to make the 25 dog. To commemorate, we chalked a 333 dog, a 72 dog, and an 84 dog, amongst others.

I don't know how long it will be until a draw a regular dog again.

Systematic Institutions Do

The value, "People first," is forsaken when other things become more important.

Ambiguity 2

A person's choice words might be copied or crafted - that is, any particular string of words might be mimi-cry or original. Both the person's ability and perspective differ when either copied or crafted.

Example: During class, a student analyzes a passage from a novel.

Copy: She read the analysis in a commentary and shares it with the class.
Crafted: She thought about the material carefully the night before and came to a conclusion.

In the latter scenario, the content springs forth from intuition.
In the former scenario, the content springs toward its regurgitator, the student.

In this sense, the perspective differs because one is intimate while the other is authoritative (like the authoritative dictionary i.e. definitive, but only in the sense of how one regards it, not how it defines other things).

The ability differs from the web of understandings that gives those choice words creation.

When intimate, the understanding has developed naturally, so its supporting web can be used to further communication/understanding with others.

When authoritative, the understanding has developed artificially (from without), so its supporting intuitions are more likely to contradict other webs of understanding because it is categorized under "knowledge" rather than discovery. I coin this latter discovery-knowledge as knoacovery (pronounced na-covery) [na like "baa" sheep].

This assumes an understanding, which may not be the case in either. A better word for copy might be "inmitate," and the bastard form of "copy" can be called "regurgitation."

Also, I don't know whether this holds for all actions or just words (read: particularly for words).

Unjust Line

Waited to be assigned a locker today; the line was about an hour long. At one point, I formed the right end of a two-person wide gap where people could pass thru the line. I hardly noticed them walk by. Then, I became the left end and all havoc let loose.

People whizzed by me so I could feel their wind. They almost touched me every time. It's not that they considered me an object, but an obstacle. They didn't de-humanize me, but I was marginalized. It would have been easy to walk thru the gap without disturbance, and to be treated as a hindrance to their progress, I felt less than an object.

I don't blame them. I just realized, for the first time, my own brutality towards the people I meet but never know. They should demand no less respect than my friends and my acquantainces.

At least for today, I pardoned myself upon intrusion.

Alex's Room Repartee

"You can really be stupid sometimes, Jackson." (Neil)
"I can be stupid all the time." (Jackson)

Buddy Cat

My cat Buddy died today. He was on the balcony with Maggie sleeping on a chair. My mom found him on the ground nearby.

I knew him for 12 years, the cat of my childhood, my adolescence, and my early adult years. I will now recount some memories.

At the old house, he brought me garden snakes. I'd see him through our den's sliding glass doors, green snake in mouth.

I tapped with two fingers on the sliding door; he stood on his hind legs and stretched his paws toward my tapping.

There are two ways to carry Buddy. The first is to cradle him like a baby. The second is to support his legs as his arms arch over one shoulder.

I sang to the tune of Tony the Tiger, "Buddy-cat, you're more than fat... you're fat!"

Meal time call: "Kitty Chow Chow, Kitty Chow Chow!"

Daniel and I rolled him into a cat burrito with just a big blanket.

He weighed 16 lbs.

Vernon was shocked when he saw Buddy a couple years later. He had gotten much bigger.

He would come to piano room when I played. I like to think he listened.

On Sundays, I would read the comics and give Buddy a walk. Those days were hot, and the concrete felt good.

Buddy was a good cat. Bold, intelligent, and independent. May he rest in peace.

Ambiguity 1: Peripheral or Purposeful

A person's activities might be peripheral or purposeful - that is, any action might be done as either a non-decision or a decision. When I was young, a girl teased me bitterly whenever i laughed, smiled, or joked. "Heeh~/`/\" she mocked.

She thought, for whatever reason, that my mannerisms were an act. "I was being cute." But that wasn't the case, and because I didn't fathom her perspective, her actions didn't make no sense.

I think this sort of ambiguity generally exists for any action.

Cameo Poop

I remember a MAD catalog for Alfred E. Neuman printed toilet paper, 9 years ago maybe. What about poop-colored toilet paper? We can call it camo-poop. Need to wipe your nose? Here, use this. Has it been used? I don't know.

Alternatively, toilet paper can come with pre-made brown swipes. The name of the game is matching your swipe with the ready-made.

How do you feel?

The people are starving for conversation - they're carnivorous.

Encountering an Old Friend

It's not so much, "What have you learned?" but, "How have you changed?"

Not The Pictured Jacket Per Se

Do you know Daffy's?

I tried on clothes in the section where a sign says, "please do not take items outside this area." This jacket there was the best I'd ever worn, like a constant hug.

Night Dream

My brother and I ended up falling off a cliff for some reason. After a little while, my brother said, "Oh, fuck." Then, I said, "Oahh, it'll probably be alright." Then we landed gently upon sidewalk pavement. Swew

Connecticut Repartee

"Stamford's got a lot of cute girls. The only problem is, they're all dating douche bags."

"You're dating all the girls in Stamford? Wow."

Cigarette Notes

Frontside
Wiki this
BZ

The Game of Wa
is like
1) The Game of Love
2) Why there are smart people with intuition & those w/o

Backside
Powerful Chaos
(vs)
Chaotic Order
= Natural
(vs)
Arbitrary

Baba Brief

A man studying medicine in the 1940s watched his nation, China, become increasingly embroiled in civil war. He could only heal so many bodies. Instead, he endeavored to heal the people's spirit.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hu_Shi

Baba estimates having read 90% of his writings.

Talker Listener Daydream

Craiglist Posting: Young man will listen, talk.

I will not perform sexual favors.
I will not give you professional advice.
I will not be your friend.
I will not help you.
I will not care about you.

I will listen, and I will talk. I'd love to hear whatever you have to say, and I've got a bagful of stories if you'd like to hear them. I charge $10 an hour and $5 flat fee for transportation costs.

What's in it for you?
Empathy, dialogue, a fresh perspective.

What's in it for me?
A fresh perspective, dialogue, money.

Email me a short bio and your available times.

Hope to see you soon,
Alex

Cat Dream

I unzip the thermo-mesh lunch box where my cat sleeps curled. His eyes lazily open. He looks like a cat-wrapped burrito. We're in the backseat of a car on our way to somewhere. The driver talks, but I'm not listening.

In real life, my cat is dying. Eight lbs. lost, Scabs, and stomach cancer, maybe.