plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose

It’s that time again for the latest mid-life crisis. Number 15, I think? Still broken, still hurting from the inside out, still unfulfilled, still stuck in the not-knowing, still unable to function like a real person. If only I were a real boy... be careful what you wish for Pinocchio.

This is going to be very much a stream of consciousness post - to see if I can shake loose some of the cobwebs and spark some of the necessary cognitive functions.

Blurry

Puddle Of Mudd

LYRICS

Everything's so blurry
And everyone's so fake
And everybody's empty
And everything is so messed up
Pre-occupied without you
I cannot live at all
My whole world surrounds you
I stumble then I crawl

You could be my someone
You could be my scene
You know that I'll protect you
From all of the obscene
I wonder what you're doing
Imagine where you are
There's oceans in between us
But that's not very far

Can you take it all away
Can you take it all away
Well ya shoved it in my face
This pain you gave to me
Can you take it all away
Can you take it all away
Well ya shoved it in my face

Everyone is changing
There's none left that's real
To make up your own ending
And let me know just how you feel
Cause I am lost without you
I cannot live at all
My whole world surrounds you
I stumble then I crawl

You could be my someone
You could be my scene
You know that I will save you
From all of the unclean
I wonder what you're doing
I wonder where you are
There's oceans in between us
But that's not very far

Nobody told me what you thought
Nobody told me what to say
Everyone showed you where to turn
Told you when to runaway
Nobody told you where to hide
Nobody told you what to say
Everyone showed you where to turn
Showed you when to runaway

This pain you gave to me

You take it all
You take it all away
This pain you gave to me
You take it all away
This pain you gave to me
Take it all away
This pain you gave to me

They aren’t the greatest band in the world but they spoke to me at a certain point in my life - one that I felt and indeed feeel shortchanged on. Too many moving parts, too many variables, too many things unresolved, left unspoken and now there is only the hint of a connection in anonymous Sahara posts.

I am out of step with everyone around me. I am out of place and out of time - seemingly in many aspects of the phrase.  

I don’t know how to change it anymore - I don’t know how many more times my Phoenix can rise from the flames. Each time it gets a little harder and each time I am a little weaker. I am no longer at the point where character-building experiences are doing anything but breaking me down. 

I’ve been unable to write, academic style, fiction, blog, anything at all. I have been unable to read save for a few pages here and there. All I can ant to do is knit and wait for it to be summer so that I can knit outdoors in sunshine. 

I want to hide away from everyone and yet want to embrace everyone as well. I am a limping contradiction in just about every way. I am no longer able to function in the real world in any sort of meaningful way. 

I keep searching, reaching, yearning for something I can never have. 

And it’s tearing me in two...

Culture, Home, Identity and Purpose: or CHIP for Short

♫Hi ho hi ho hi ho, we're heading out to the punk rock show.
Colleagues and friends condescend with a smile, 
But this is my culture man, this is my home.
The dark huddled masses gather at the gate, 
The doors at 7, the show starts at 8.
A few precious hours in a space of our own, 
And when the band comes on, the only thing I really know:♫

Four Simple Words - Frank Turner

The whole sentiment is there right now.... I want nothing more than to be physically somewhere in my 20's dancing at the punk rock show. I want to be able to do it without the pain and aches and horribleness that always happens to me afterwards in my middle-aged body. But that isn't really what this post is about... what this post is actually about is culture and identity and home and purpose. Or maybe my lack of connection to any of those things right at this point in time. 

I was messaging with Elsie Gee the other night, and she mentioned something about "identity and purpose" after seeing a show with those themes running through it. She said she found it "thought provoking." My response was that it should be -"those are powerful words"...  Since saying that I have found myself coming back to it over and over again, my thoughts trying to make sense about why I do find those words so very powerful and what the hell my identity really is. 

The thing is, any identity that I can come up with for myself is entirely entwined in the other three portions of CHIP. Culture is a huge part of my identity, at least I think it is. That culture is weather-beaten and rock-formed in the land that I came from. I haven't lived there in seven years now, but when asked where I am from, my answer is always Newfoundland, if I answer a survey and they ask my country of origin, I always choose "Other" and type in Newfoundland. So I am culturally informed in my identity which is intrinsically tied to my home. 

I am still trying to make sense of what that means.  

Does that make figuring out the answer to my identity my purpose? I might need to drink some more to be able to continue this... 

(24 hours and a few drinks later...)

Again, I am trying to come to grips with identity... it is a word that encompasses so much and yet I am unable to accurately define it in personal terms. There is racial identity, sexual identity, gender identity, political identity, social identity, religious identity, cultural identity and so many more. Each one means something different to each person and yet they are all tied together in this concept of personal identity. How can one word be big enough to encompass all of those concepts? How can something that is ultimately so personal be reflected in a simple pairing of words? 

I guess it comes down to the age old question of "who am I?" A question with no easy answers, and I guess, nor should they be easy. People are far too complex to just become a simple definition. Every is a culmination of the stories that have made up their lives, for good or bad. From the moment of consciousness, or perhaps before, a part of who we are is crafted by the environment that we exist in, that our parents existed in, and it becomes indelibly tattooed onto the souls of our beings, whether we like it or not.

Maybe that is why Judith Butler's early work resonates with me so strongly - ignoring the academic word games that she used to play with Zizek and others - her theory was that gender is performative .. this does not mean that gender is a conscious performance, but rather that gender is informed by everything that comes before it, The second that a doctor declares a baby girl or boy, there are centuries of traditional concepts that are immediately unconsciously applied into what being a boy or a girl means, long before the person has the opportunity to decide for themselves what they understand it to mean.

I think it goes beyond gender as well, though gender concepts certainly play a large role in what a self concept of identity can mean. I think all of identity is performative, to one extent or another. All identity is tied up in where you came from, where you cut your metaphorical teeth. Tied up in prefabricated concepts of home, of purpose, of love, of sex, of life... until you can eventually decipher the actual individual that is hiding in the middle of all these pre-informed concepts and finally become the person that has been inside yourself. 

Think about it... I was raised by liberal parents, and have become a feminist, even though society tells me that my gender is male. My sexuality is straight, if I have to pick a category, but I believe that all humans should be equal, regardless of gender or sexuality or creed or colour. But if I were born to another family, in another environment, I could have been racist, sexist or any other of the current negative connotations that run around my brain. If my parents had not been liberal (small l liberal), I would not have been raised with the values that I have. I could have been homophobic, ultra-right wing conservative, or anything other than I am today. I am informed by what came before me, as my parents were as they were before them and so on and so on...

We are all informed by the past, and with any luck, we are not doomed to repeat the mistakes that came before. 

So where does culture fit into this? 

My culture comes from a large island with a small population. Born and raised in an artistic world, came of age in a time of desperate unemployment, arriving at puberty just as the first phase of punk rock was dying and the birth of hardcore was beginning. Music completely informs my concept of culture, my concept of politics, my concept of person...

♫I'm all lost in the supermarket,
I can no longer shop happily,
I came in here for the special offer,
guaranteed personality... ♫

"Lost in the Supermarket" - The Clash

My concept of culture is  bound up in the middle class to poor, to working poor back to middle class again. I just happened to be fortunate enough to have been raised in a time and place where those concepts could be readily expressed through art and music and... tribe...

I have no official tribe... I am a Caucasian lad and by definition, a part of the majority where I came from. But I never really fit into that majority. I felt disenfranchised even when I was a child and that feeling only got worse as I hit puberty. It took a little bit of time, but eventually I found the people that I felt at home with... not that it wasn't rocky but the rockiness was somehow a part of it all. Some of those folks are still good friends today, some have disappeared off my radar, some have crossed my path in a not so nice fashion and some have shrugged off this mortal coil, but all of them have left a mark and were a part of me becoming who I am today. And later still, I found another tribe, on the edges of the tribe I was living in, and those people have become my heart and soul and family. Scattered the earth over but as much a part of me as my own blood relatives, and as important in my understanding of identity and culture and self as any other influence I have had in my life.

That may mean I am just really fucked up.... but I think it is more than that :) 

I guess that brings me to purpose.... and here I am a little at a loss... what is my purpose? Why am I here? I don't actually care about leaving any sort of legacy. I care about trying to be a good person, about caring for my friends and family and my fellow human beings. I want to be a better person... I want to provide security and shelter and love and safe-haven for my friends and family , I want them to be relaxed in my company, knowing they can rely on me... but is that my purpose? That is my desire... So do we as people have a purpose?

That is a harder question. Those who have belief will tell you that our purpose is tied up in some god's will. I don't know about that. Those who are fundamentally scientific will tell you that our purpose is a part of the larger ecological chain... I am not sure about that either. I am unsure if there is an actual purpose out there for us. I fell that those who have artistic talent have an actual purpose, I think that those who have the ability to teach have a purpose, I feel that those who have the ability to create have a purpose, that those who are good parents have a purpose.... but what do I have? I am not a musician, I am not an artist, I am not a teacher... I am just a guy - a jack of many trades but a master of none... I don't fit nicely into any category or box... so what purpose do I have?

That question may be the one I am searching for the answers to...

Fuck this week...

This week has been a stressful one, my blood pressure is up, the tension through my shoulders and neck is bad enough to keep me awake at night and if that wasn't bad enough, I have been suffering through my first gout attack in 20 years... not much fun. Work is off the rails with crazy... and I am missing home in a vicious kind of way. This too shall pass, right?

I am once again stuck wondering what I want to be when I grow up, and reading back through some of my posts from when I was in Grad School. I was good at that, I mean really good.... not revolutionary by any stretch of the imagination, but I was good at the reading, the interpreting, and the - well the just being in University. What I wasn't good at was the politics, and the publish or perish world, or the thoughts of spending 10 years working sessionals trying to obtain a tenure track... maybe I need more stick-to-it-ness, or maybe I am just not good at doing the same thing for long periods of time. I have been in my current occupation stream for 5 years, been with the same team for 4. This, for me, is something of an anomaly. Most of my working life, I was used to a six week gig here, a four week gig there, etc. And the techs/directors or the actors would change up, so life was constant learning or at least experiencing.

Then came school, more learning every day. I like that part, it makes me feel fulfilled and happy. For the first 3 1/2 years where I am now, I also got that feeling of learning something new everyday, and it was a pleasure to be at work. Now... well now I am still learning new things every day, but those new learnings are a little more like soul-crushing experiences. Learning things that either sound so crazy from the outset that no one could reasonably believe that they would be true, or things that just plain make a person crazy.

How does one find that happy balance? I put this to those who have been in the same business / workplace / whatever for extended periods of time? I am an incredibly loyal person, loyal to my team, to my friends, to  my family, etc. So how does one balance that loyalty with the need to not have one's soul obliterated on a daily basis?

And more importantly, how does one not drink to recover from each of those days?

I Want to Believe

♫I wish I was someone else
I'm confused, I'm afraid, I hate the loneliness
And there's nowhere to run to
Nothing makes any sense, but I still try my hardest

Take my hand
Please help me man
'Cause I'm looking for something to believe in
And I don't know where to start
And I don't know where to begin, to begin

If I was stupid or naive
Trying to achieve what they all call contentness
If people weren't such dicks and I never made mistakes
Then I could find forgiveness

Take my hand
Please help me man
'Cause I'm looking for something to believe in
And I don't know where to start
And I don't know where to begin, oh no

I can't be someone else
I don't feel that it's hopeless
I don't feel that I'm useless

I can't throw it all away
I need some courage to find my weakness
And with your love, I know with all my heart I can win

'Cause I'm looking for something to believe in
And I just need something to believe in
I'm looking for something to believe in
And I just need something to believe in♫

The Ramones - "Something to Believe In"

So, there is this organization that I have an interest in joining, because it is in my family history and would maybe feel closer to my grandfather than I was ever able to get when I was alive. The problem is that you have to believe in a god to be a member. Not THE GOD, but a god, which I can probably get my head around, if they were willing to accept the goddess and the god of Wiccan lore. The real problem comes with the next part, I also have to believe that the word / wisdom of this god/goddess was made known to man... ie - if I were Christian - the Bible, Muslim - the Qu'ran, Jewish - the Torah, etc, etc, etc. Wicca doesn't really have that and any book that professes to have that sort of knowledge in Wicca is usually condemned in some fashion or another, or is truly terribly written. I am not sure what to do with / about that... 

It has been kind of a lifelong search for me... a vision quest that began as soon as I understood that Christianity wasn't really for me... somewhere when I was nine or ten (excluding the brief bought of Jerusalem Syndrome I came down with after a visit to the Holy Land in 1984). I have studied many faiths, Have a BA focusing on Chinese Religions (Daoism, Buddhism, Confucianism, Religious Daosim and more) an MA focusing on a Butlerian look at Wicca, and an incomplete PhD in gender and Judaism, specifically, masculinity in Judaism. And yet, I cannot find anything that fits me correctly. Daoism makes a lot of sense to me, but it is a philosophy rather than a religion. Buddhism appeals except that I could never live out my days as a vegetarian. Jainism I find incredibly interesting but I have issues with the patriarchal nature of its current institutions. Christianity, well, I find the hypocrisy of the churches a little too much to bear, in particular for the big three but throughout many of the other branches as well. Unitarianism I quite enjoy in theory, but my experiences with Unitarian church did nothing to make me feel like I belonged there.   

Ultimately, like the X-Files poster says - "I Want to Believe." I do, I really do. I am envious of those who can believe - who have a propensity for faith. I wan to know what that feels like because I am void in that area. I do believe in the power of nature, and that there maybe a great spirit or spirits that are the soul of the planet itself, but how would I articulate that to this organization? And do I believe in it strongly enough to demonstrate conviction in that belief?

I am truly lacking in this area. I think I am also lacking in the community aspect that a religion can provide. Again, this is nothing new. I have had excellent community around me for many stages of my life, but it was due to a common interest (music) or a common work-world (theatre) or a bacchanalian love of food and drink and/or sex. Those were/are the ties that keep/kept us together. 

I remember being in a creative writing class way back in high school, where Mr. Durant asked me if I believed in god. I told him that I didn't need to because (in a broad moment of bravado) I had faith in myself (I didn't) and I had faith in my friends (I still do). His response was that I was well on my way to being a cynic, because one or the both of those things would let me down eventually. I have certainly lost and found my faith in myself many times along the way, and I have no doubt it will happen again. I have certain friends in whom I will never lose faith, I have certain friends that I have absolutely lost faith in and there are many new friends that I will undoubtedly find faith in, has this made me cynical? No, I think that more than anything, institutions have made me cynical. People I still believe in, as much as many of them may suck. Institutions I have a huge issue in trusting / believing in. Which may seem a little strange, for the institutions are made up of people and are not entities unto themselves, so, therefore, I should be able to have faith in the people in those institutions...

I have never really been good at toeing the party line if it was contrary to my personal ethics and beliefs. Most religions/philosophies have a version of the Golden Rule, and the one that rings truest to my ears is "Do No Harm." It is straightforward - simple and remarkably easy and difficult to adhere to. After all, what is harm? Harm is different things to different people. To me, it means do not hurt anyone physically, or emotionally or spiritually. That is easier said than done. One can hurt another without being aware that they have done so. So I exert an effort to try and do no harm. I try to be charitable, I try to be empathetic, I try to be sage in my words and actions, but I am only human and I know I slip up in that repeatedly. I think the point is, however, much like quitting smoking... never quit quitting, or never stop trying to feel for others... 

Where does this ramble take me? Well, ultimately full circle...

♫'Cause I'm looking for something to believe in

And I just need something to believe in

I'm looking for something to believe in

And I just need something to believe in♫

Getting Back to Basics

(tonight's soundtrack provided by my favorite Bad Religion tracks)

So, why the renewed interest in blogging? Well, some of it comes from my mental state, some of it comes from reading my friend Catherine's "Dear Demented Diary" blog turned book, and some of it comes from the need to express myself beyond my day-to-day interactions ( I will and perhaps rekindle other day-to-day interactions). I have a lot to say about a lot of things, some of it is even sensible...
One of the things about my current job is that I feel I have to be muzzled to an extent - and I can promise you, you will read nothing about my current job within these pages, and I will probably be toning down the political rhetoric as much as I can stand it, but I am bound to slip up there from time to time... can't help it, I am a Newfoundlander after all, politics is firmly embedded in my word view.

wait, the wine bottle is empty, I should do something to rectify that situation...

OK, Petite Verdot opened, now... where was I...

tonight is probably going to be a lot of "stream of consciousness" - it seems the only way I can write right now. I have tried some fiction in the past little bit, but I lose the flow as soon as I stop writing and I seem to be unable to get back to the story that I have started.

I have been doing this blog thing on and off for - well, lets just say that there was no such thing as a blog when I started. When I started I carefully wrote all the HTML code manually, and had to find places to host the site. I have not done much regularly over the past few years. At times it was because I had no idea how to articulate what was in my head, at times it was because I was afraid of offending others. I tried writing pseudo-anonymously but I am not much good at that. What you see is what you get. I  am complex, but pretty straightforward when it comes down to it and hiding under a pseudonym just makes me feel uncomfortable.

A lot has happened since I was writing regularly. My Dad died, I have had a couple of promotions, I have done a lot of soul searching and have not found many answers. I co-own a house with my spouse, have two dogs and have suffered through some major physical trauma and come out on the other side of good... so far. I have watched the current regime erode many of my personal political beliefs, and I have struggled with losing pieces of my identity.

I have watched some friends flame out, some crash and burn, some burn bridges that can never be fixed, and some exceed against all odds. I am at the age where our parents are in the process of shrugging off this mortal coil and it is hard, really fucking hard to not be there for each and everyone one who is going through it.

My brain continues to wander everywhere, though I am able to zero in with painful precision both when I want to and when I want to avoid it. If only I could learn to shut it down long enough to sleep though a night. night. I have a naturopath now, a chiropractor, a physiotherapist and will soon have a referral to Sports Medicine to try and get a holistic idea of whatever is going on with my body. All things are pointing in the right direction, but I remain a medical mystery...

I for realz miss university, and keep having all these thoughts about what I want to actually do my PhD in, as compared to what I started 6 years ago... it is a nice dream, but not practical at this point in time but I do have a few conversations I want to have with academic advisers before I move any further with them.

Maybe it is just because I am on vacation and I am not very good at relaxing that I am suddenly getting the writing urges, but I think it is more than that. There is a piece of me that has been missing since I broke my back all those years ago, and I have yet to find the exact correct outlet. Writing worked for a time but I perhaps lack the required discipline to make it work all the way. I am not good with artistry with my hands. My mind can always visualize something so much more than I am able to produce.

(Soundtrack shifted to Rise Against)

Today was the first step in getting back to nature since I was in Newfoundland at the end of April / early May. We hiked the Skyline trail in Gatineau Park, and it was pretty spectacular, Also I am spectacularly out of shape... so the big goal this staycation is three hikes on local trails, and at least one round of golf. We shall see how that goes...

Homelands

In reading Nikki's post about Australia becoming home for her, my own mind started to wander and wonder about that concept and what it means to me. I think my concept of home is skewed by two or three different interpretations. Home, or a part thereof will always be Newfoundland - a large part of that is because of the people, but it is also the rough geography and the majestic sea and the culture that is found there. But mostly it is the people. People like Patrick and LA, Jonjon and Bridgette, Kellie-Rae, Rus, Dennis, Tracey, and so on and so on.
It is the setting of people as home that draws me to my second interpretation - or rather is an extension of that concept. Home is where those people are, so there is home for me in Australia, there is home for me in Montreal, there is home for me in Vancouver and hell, there is even home for me in two places in California... one in a make-believe relationship that fell dramatically apart in a town I have never seen, and the other in another part of Cali, where I have also never been but seems as real and as welcoming to me as any place I have been.
Finally, there is where I have my house, my job, my marriage, my brother and his wife and kids and my mother and my close group of friends, here in Ottawa. All of this seems like it should be soothing, and satisfying, but what it really means is that I am "fractalized," with longings to be in all of these places and never really content in any of them. This may be the missing piece that I discussed yesterday.
Maybe it is part of the problem rather than the solution that for me, home is transitory based on where the people I love happen to be. Maybe it is a struggle of identity, or how I perceive that identity of home that causes the constant longing for what is not currently at hand... hell maybe it is the lack of ocean... I don't know. I just know I feel unsettled and I feel the need to move around. I know some truly amazing people all over this planet. and maybe I feel I just need to get out to see them in their "homes." But that reality is far away right now. Even co-ordinating the next trip back to Newfoundland seems daunting and expensive.
Even though I am home, I want to go home, to all of them... somehow bring all the homes together at the same time. Which is both spiritually and physically impossible to muster...

Many years, many lifetimes.... full circle

I've become impossible
holding on to when
when everything seemed to matter more
the two of us
all used and beaten up
watching fate as it flows down the path we
have chose

Nine Inch Nails - "We're in this together now"

It is kind of funny where life takes you, and kind of funny how everything circles back on itself eventually. I have been, for the last several years, living in a world I never could have imagined myself living in. It has been interesting, and painful, and wonderful, and fulfilling and yet strangely abstract and lacking in the most important of my traits, creativity.

I am good at my job, and mostly I enjoy it, but it is devoid of spiritual / creative satisfaction. I am not really sure how this happened. How did I become a bureaucrat? And better yet, how did I become good at it? 

I have been living in Ottawa for 6 years now... a blink of an eye and it has passed - with stretches that felt so incredibly long they might never end... and yet, here it is 2013 - 11 years since I began my reinvention as a human being.

I don't really recall many conscious decisions that lead me to today, but I am sure that I must have made them, for here I am. but there is a hole in the centre of my being... and I am unsure of how to fix it. 

patience

I am not very good at patience. I never have been, and I am trying hard to learn how to be patient, but I am not very good at it at all. I am a creature of impulse. Most of my purchases are made that way, most of my decisions get made on a snap, and I live with whatever consequences may occur from those decisions. I like the information age. I like being able to watch TV series on DVD, so I don't have to wait for the next weekly installment. I prefer to buy books in sets for that self same reason. So it goes without saying that I struggle with waiting. What am I waiting for, you may ask? I am waiting for the government to let me know whether or not I have a job. I have been involved in the process now for almost two years. I still do not have a job. I have had a couple of successful interviews (though the total amount of that success is yet to be seen) but I still have no idea if I am going to have a job or not. Apparently they have asked all the right questions, requested all the right information, and I should be on a short list for hiring. Yet, there is still no word forthcoming. The last of the interviews was over a month ago, at this point. I wrote another exam last week, for which I should hear about an interview sometime in the immediate future, though the word immediate, in conjunction with government is somewhat of a misnomer.

What this lack of patience has meant is that ultimately I am stalling. I keep hoping everyday for word to come, and this word would lift me out of the PhD program that I am not yet settled into, but as each day passes and I do not hear from my prospective employers, it means I actually have to get my ass in gear and do the school-work I have been so deftly avoiding. It is much more difficult because my heart is nowhere near as involved in this process as it should be. I am without drive and spark... and that makes getting motivated extremely difficult. It also means that I am much less creative than I should be. Perhaps, though, this is a good thing when it comes to academia. I have to write a paper, for which I have two weeks to get a proposal together, with an annotated bibliography. I have no idea what to write on, as this course is somewhat outside of my area of expertise. In that same two weeks, I have to finish grading the mountain of exams I have in front of me, research and present my part of a 3 hour group presentation, and get the house ready for a very special guest! Add to that a fairly full social calendar between now and then, and the sickness that has not yet gone away, but is being at least manageable with the right medications.

I know that all I really have to do is be patient. To just wait it out, and eventually my file will land on some managers desk, and I should receive that phone call that I have been ever so anxiously awaiting. And I know that all I really have to do is sit down and start doing all this work that lies in front of me, and yet I find it harder and harder every day to make it happen. I have spurts of activity,where I get what I need to get accomplished done, but the very next day, when I am supposed to pick up where I left off, I find I am almost physically unable to make it happen... it takes supreme effort... why isn't patience like the card game? I am good at that.

Of Excrement and Men

First, let me qualify this by saying I am all hopped up on muscle relaxants right now, so my coherence may not be the best. Second, let me add that this may be the best way to read Zizek!

Ok, so Tibet represents our hidden Western desire to colonize the imaginary. We do not want the Tibet that is actually there, but instead want the idealized version that we dream of in our own imaginations. Shit is a problem for us in the West because it is a reflection of our inner-most selves and once it is out in the open, we become vulnerable. Because being vulnerable is linked, at least in part, to being weak, then our shit makes us weak. Tibet as it actually is does not match our created, imagined version, so we seek to enforce our own view point upon it. The travel diaries are a good reflection of that. The biggest problem with the Tibetans for those early explorers was that they were weak. We wanted their secrets, but we also wanted them to be just like us. Because they were weak, they reminded us of our own vulnerabilities, our own weakness, our own shit.

Tibet also acts as a sounding board for our own insecurities with paradox. Here is the great, imagined mystical land, the paradise we all have been dreaming of, and yet it is populated by people who are supposed to be (in our imaginations) spiritually pure, at peace and ease with the universe, and in full acceptance of the lot they have in life. Yet these spiritually pure people accommodate magic, and strange sexual practices into their religious lives (again, in our imagined view of them). Due to the Christian / Gnostic separation between pure spirit and the dirty body, this paradox becomes something the Western mindset has trouble reconciling. How can something be spiritually pure, and at the same time, involve practices of the body, in particular carnal practices? How can we venerate these spiritually pure people when they resort to superstition in their practice of worship, when we have set our benchmark upon the altar of rationality?

To fix this paradox, to make it work inside our imaginations, we move the fixation of purity from the people to the idealized place. We treat the citizens as second class, we ignore their ‘strange and backward ways’ and instead place the emphasis on a sacred location. Thereby we correct the paradox that we have trouble reconciling. That paradise we envision becomes a part of our inner-most desires, our inner-most selves, it therefore becomes sacred. In a way, then, our shit, which is a reflection of our innermost selves, also becomes sacred, and untouchable. Shit then becomes, by way of Zizek’s thinking – if I am interpreting it correctly – something we are in awe of, and I mean awe in the ‘terrifying, afraid of’ sense. We remove this sacred part of ourselves and flush it away so that we may not appear to be weak, in the same way that we remove the weakness from our conception of paradise, reflected in our imaginary views of Tibet!

For the non-academics out there who have not had to suffer through Zizek, he is a post-modern scholar who seems to enjoy playing games with language, desires and the world as the West sees it. It can be downright painful t read, which I believe is a part of the game for Zizek. This critique comes from his book, On Belief from a chapter entitled "Why you should give a shit!"

I R Ranty

Where do our virtues lie in terms of the post-modern sacred? Are we actors (activists) or responders to the new moral conditions and imperatives? How does Al Gore become the face of environmentalism and as that face, does he have the role of moral saint or moral hero? Is his environmentalism one of life-politics or emancipation politics or both?

These are very interesting times for scholars of nature, scholars of technology and scholars of the sacred, it would seem. You cannot turn on a newscast without hearing about an environmental related story, or some sort of political rhetoric about such. All of the major political parties in Canada have developed a stance as we stream towards the next election. Suddenly nature and its sacredness has come into the forefront of the political agenda. So does that make Stephen Harper a moral saint, does it make Stephan Dion a moral hero or is there a third category missing from this list? Does it make them actors or responders? Is the key difference in their motivations, or does it really matter what their motivations are? Neither politician has made a lifetime’s work of the cause, though they make it seem like they have. And neither of their lives would seem, on the surface, to be extremely arduous. So I guess, according to Giddens’ definitions as told by Szerszynski, they would not fit the saint category. Does that then make them moral heroes, acting on happenstance?

Have we as people then re-sacralized nature to the point that we have made it a political vehicle? If so, then how does this post-modern ordering of the sacred fuel a moral, ethical, social and political agenda? The people who are speaking the loudest about environmental reform today are not doing so out of loyalty to a sacred idea, they are using a sacred idea as a way to influence the voters. Giddens needs a third category, I think, rather than just life-politics or emancipation politics. There should be a category of politics for the sake of politics, where moral rhetoric can be espoused without the fear of having to buy into it, where the usage of a public persona can be used to sell the concept of the sacred to the consumer based society we live in.

A federal election is rapidly approaching in Canada, and the parties will all spout environmental platforms, until the country is tired of hearing about its importance. The campaign will involve many non-biodegradable plastic signs, attached to wooden posts, scattered all over the landscape. Many cross-country jaunts will be taken, and I would be willing to bet, there will not be many of those on the campaign trail driving smart cars, or tour buses fueled by ethanol. And yet they will be campaigning about reducing green-house gases, and teaching us how to save the environment from ourselves. I guess that means that moral hero is out as a category too.

What's your disfunction?

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid Disorder:	Low
Schizoid Disorder:	Low
Schizotypal Disorder:	Moderate
Antisocial Disorder:	Moderate
Borderline Disorder:	Low
Histrionic Disorder:	High
Narcissistic Disorder:	Moderate
Avoidant Disorder:	Moderate
Dependent Disorder:	High
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder:	Moderate
-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! -- -- Personality Disorders --

Nature and Such...

The following is a post I had to do for my program but I thought I would through it out there for thoughts and other discussion =) apologies for the length, but since I don't post often, perhaps you will forgive me.

In 1982, I was twelve years old. I had been admitted to hospital in
order to have my tonsils taken out. I had chronic tonsillitis most of my
adolescent life and they finally decided to remove the offending body
part. I was checked into hospital on February 12th, and would be
released on February 16th. I didn’t know just how much of a life
changing experience this would prove to be. It was, as it turned out, to
be incredibly life changing on many levels. The first level was not
immediately apparent, as I was in too much pain post-surgery to realize
what kind of benefit modern science and medicine had given me, it would
take time for my throat to heal and then time again for me to catch my
next winter cold, in which I was far less miserable than usual to
realize the benefit. However, my life changed in another way when I was
in that hospital. I was sharing a semi-private room with a small girl
who was extremely sick, with what I do not recall, but it was very
serious. Her parents were there almost all the time. Her father worked
on one of the oilrigs off the coast of Newfoundland and was supposed to
have traveled out to the rig on the same day I was admitted, but his
daughter had been so ill that he stayed in town in order to be with her.
That weekend, through to Monday the 15th, there were terrible storms,
both on land and offshore. And in that terrible storm, the oilrig,
called the Ocean Ranger, sank, killing all 84 crew members. It was one
of the worst oil related disasters in Canada’s history. It touched the
lives of just about everyone in Newfoundland in some way or another. It
also really provided me a certain amount of clarity on humanity’s
relationship with nature. It was my first real experience with tragedy,
and I watched it unfold on the face of a man who was supposed to be out
on the rig when it sank, who was alive only because his little girl was
sick. For the first time, I began to think about how nature reacts
against man-made creations. I also began to think about why the
exploratory drilling platform was out in the middle of the North
Atlantic Ocean in the first place.
The first two sections of Donald Worster’s book speak directly to those
thoughts I had so many years ago. The way he presents the formation and
history of ecology, and the view of nature often found in western
science and culture helps explain a lot. The view of nature as something
to be exploited for the benefit of humankind, and the view of nature as
something to be bent and controlled by human beings stand out in
particular. Why was this rig out in the middle of the ocean? To explore
for possible oil fields, so that the resource could be tapped, refined,
and then marketed to the consumer. So that the non-renewable resource
could be exploited in order to maintain the modern lifestyle we have all
become so accustomed to. The Ocean Ranger was one of those technical
marvels, and those involved believed it to be indestructible, just the
same way the Titanic was believed to be. Engineers had weighed out every
contingency plan that they could think of, and had designed a structure
that was supposed to withstand whatever nature could through at it.
Nature, however, upped the ante. Hurricane force winds attacked the rig
and waves as high as a five story building crashed against it. The winds
were too high to allow for helicopter rescue, and those who made it to
the lifeboats did not stand a chance against the brutal conditions.
As human beings, we have placed ourselves in a privileged position over
the rest of the planet. We see the resources as being there to support
and provide for us, and do not necessarily recognize our role in the
ecological system. We have developed technologies to protect us from the
natural elements, even as we were developing technologies to further
exploit the resources to be found within those elements. We fall to
science to answer our questions and solve our problems. Yet when science
believes it has all the angles covered, nature can still strike with
something unexpected. One does not have to look very far to find other
examples. Hurricane Katrina and the city of New Orleans, the tsunami
that hit south-east Asia so ferociously, and the earthquake in Kashmir
in 2005 all are examples of nature trumping technology. And yet, we as
people still persist in the notion that we can overcome the natural
world with the technological one. We believe that the planet is there
for us to exploit, rather than seeing ourselves as an integral part of a
larger system. Even the early theories of ecology that recognized nature
as a complex system that was indeed greater than the sum of its parts,
still placed an emphasis on what utility could be gained from the
resources. Gilbert White recognized the inherent systems but believed
that humans held a privileged position above the systems of nature.
Little thought was given to the ethics of such a position of privilege
as it was deemed, whether through a scientific lens, a naturalist lens,
or a theological lens, that the planet was there to support mankind.
Worster contends that the rise of Christian pastoralism, which
idealized relationships between people rather than relationships between
people and their environment, may have played a large role in the
development of an adversarial attitude towards nature. (p. 26) Instead
of harmonious existence, humanity in the Western Christian context, saw
nature as a hostile force. The continued idea that human beings were the
only living creatures on the planet with an internal soul, as pronounced
by Pope Pius IX, meant that there was no need to feel guilty for the
death or destruction of anything not human. People were not a part of
nature, but instead above it. This anthropocentric view created, in
Worster’s view, at best a calculated indifference, and at worst an
outright antagonism towards nature. (p. 29) By not allowing any but
humans to have the divine spark of a soul, Christianity helped “reduce
man’s perspective of nature to a mechanical contrivance.” (p. 29) This
helped the realm of scientific thought believe that the world, and
nature was founded on a rational set of laws and order, and that
somehow, humankind’s innovations were all a part of the accepted divine
order. It helped create an imperial view of nature that, even when
science removed the supernatural from the picture, persisted in the
rational minds of Western reason. (p. 29)
We seek to dominate the elements, to control them and use them to our
own ends. Yet nature has a way of reminding us that we are not actually
the dominating force we believe ourselves to be. We are still entirely
reliant on the resources of the planet, which we are consuming at
alarming rates, in order to survive, and more so, in order to live the
life we feel we have the right to be accustomed to. I am a child of
modern convenience. I like my toys and gadgets just as much as the next
person, but I am often given pause for thought as I see how far removed
from the natural elements of the planet we have become. We are
proceeding to make ourselves alien to the very planet that sustains us,
and are constantly looking for ways to undo the damage we have done, and
at the same time, looking for more resources to exploit. There is a
strange disconnect between ourselves and the systems of nature that
sustain us and there is some danger in that disconnect. My first real
awakening to that disconnect lies now at the bottom of the North
Atlantic Ocean, in the form a giant concrete platform that serves as
both testament and tombstone.

***information on the Ocean Ranger can be fund at
http://www.releases.gov.nl.ca/releases/2002/mines&en/0215n02.htm
and
http://atlantic-web1.ns.ec.gc.ca/climatecentre/default.asp?lang=En&n=83846147-1#metmoment

The book cited is Nature's Economy, A History of Ecological Ideas 2nd Ediditon.
Donald Worster. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2006 [1994].

We return to the scene one month later, where our subject is once again sitting in his apartment in Kingston, and once again burying his face in his books. After three wonderful weeks in Ottawa, the return to the city of his schooling is somewhat stressful, and exhausting. Classes are good, but busy, (as a testament to this, the Xmas tree still stands in the corner, stripped of its ornaments but not yet of its lights) and the apartment is in a state of chaotic organization. It is clear that the hero of this tale is conflicted about some of the aspects of his life. A friend is hurting and there is nothing he can do to help her. He himself is longing to be back in Ottawa, where his heart lies, and where he has friends and a social life that he is missing. Kingston offers casual acquaintances and school-mates, but there has been no strong connection. That connection is something he is used to in his life, he has been very blessed by a close circle of friends, and they are too far away right now.

Geoffymas!

Two papers down, all the grading done, one more well under way, a site visit to finish up that requirement tomorrow. The tree is up and decorated. I had a wonderful weekend with Nikki and Scootah and Skeptigal. Nikki unfortunately managed to poison herself with food in Toronto before she came here, so her visit was abreviated and a little subdued but it was lovely all the same. It has been a couple of years since I have seen her and I do miss her an awful lot. Her hubby is pretty cool and I was really glad to meet him. It is quite obvious that he is completely smitten with her, and she with him, so I am really happy for them both. It was also excellent that Skepti got to meet them, as Nikki is a pretty important part of my life.
We all went out for mediocre breakfast on Sunday and then saw the happy couple off to the train. Then came back to unwind some. Sadly then it was time to say goodbye to Skepti as she headed back to Ottawa. it gets a little more difficult each time she has to go back, or I have to come back, however you want to put it, but a few more months and it will be a full-time gig =) The end of May is really not so long... and if the next semester moves as fast as this one did, I will be living in the big O in a blink of an eye. And coming up is Xmas! 2 full weeks in the big city, filled with xmas cheer! I head in next Monday, and will hopefully have all my work completed by that time. It will be nice to have a break, though xmas does not offer much rest time, but it at least will be a brain break.
I think I shall return to the football, but a merry mid-winter to one and all!

Winding down and ramping up

So, One course is complete, the TA work is done with all exams graded and marks submitted, the major paper proposal has been handed in, the interview for the paper on Unitarianism is done. I have to finish writing one more paper, today, invigilate an exam tonight, then Nikki, Scootah and Krista all arrive tomorrow at varying times. A weekend of good friends, love and xmas cheer and then a return to finishing the paper I will work on today. Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday I supervise three more exam time slots, and work on the Unitarian paper (transcribe the interview, find more sources and maybe even start to write. Work Friday, Saturday and Sunday, and then off to Ottawa on the following Monday for two weeks of xmas, which will hopefully involve some rest. With any luck, I will have the Unitarian paper finished before I leave for the big O, but if not, I will have a week at the other end to finish it up.
Xmas not at home is becoming something I am getting used to, not necessarily happy about but getting used to at least. I was in Calgary for Xmas 2001, Triton for Xmas 2002, Ottawa Xmas 2004 and now Ottawa again for Xmas 2006. I am going to be in excellent company this xmas, I will be with my partner and some of my family, but I most assuredly am going to miss home, Xmas eve with Pat and LA, my annual (sort of) Boxing Day gig, and the traditional New Year's dinner with the whole crew. I will also miss getting to see everyone who has been living away, which is one of the great joys of xmas in NL... but I am not so melancholy about it. I am really looking forward to the Ottawa excursion =) but know, all of you who I will not see, that I will be thinking of you, and often.

Take care and be well friends
G

Seduction? What me?

I die from tired!

Ok, this week has been about as unproductive as I can have been. I did not manage to finish the paper I hoped to finish, I did not manage to get the interview done for another paper, though I did manage to set a date, and I did not get research going on the third paper. I did manage to get the apartment cleaned and the laundry done, I did manage to tell the landlord that my heaters don't seem to function and the toilet tank is running, and I did manage to get out of bed everyday and go to school and work. However, the papers have now become looming distractions that are bearing down on me and my mental well-being. I know I will manage to get them done, but I am having trouble getting motivated, and when I do get motivated, I am having trouble maintaining the concentration necessary to put my thoughts together. Sleep comes in fits and starts right now, usually by 10:00pm I am wiped out and ready for sleep, and I wake several times through the night with my brain alight with all that needs to be accomplished, and then 7:00 - 7:30am every morning I wake up whether I want to or not. I need a week of nothingness, and though I have done almost nothing this week, it still feels like I have had to do many things. I guess I have done a lot, but not of the right things.
Tonight I head to Ottawa for the weekend, and I am muchly looking forward to it. Social contact is something that is sorely lacking in my Kingston existence. I basically go to work, or go to school and that is all I do. Someone asked me the other day what time the bars close in Kingston, and I was unable to answer because I have not been out later than 10:00pm since I moved here. In order to try and rectify the fact that my classmates and I do not do any of the social things together, I have decided to host a potluck next week, and that will hopefully provide a much needed outlet for social interaction in the city. This weekend, I will get to spend with Sceptigal, and have dinner Saturday night with some of her good friends and I am very much looking forward to both. It is funny, in a disturbing sort of way, the less social interaction I have, the more I take on the introvert persona. I crave the interaction, and yet I find it harder and harder to leave the house when I know I have to go into a social environment. It could be that winter is upon us and the lessening amounts of daylight are coming into play, but it feels more than just the usual bout of SADS. I just have to focus on the light at the end of the tunnel. May is not so far away, there is much to be done in that time, but ultimately it is only 6 months, and hell I have certainly lived through worse senarios than the one I am currently living in =) I am emotionally happy in most respects, and contrary to the whining, I am enjoying my program.
I guess I just am lonely. I want to have a poker night with the boys, or the international flavours and games nights with Pat and LA, and mostly I want to live in the same city as my partner =)Only 6 months for the latter at least, and two full weeks over xmas will be spent in the nation's capital, which will be wonderful.

Marriaaaaaaage is what bwings us hewre together today!

So, I have not posted in a while. my life has been a whirlwind that does not seem to slow down any at all. School ties up 90% of my time, work consumes another 25%, and then my newly renewed relationship eases out the fact that my time is committed for more time than exists =). Life, it has been said, is a funny thing. And I would have to agree with that. When I left Newfoundland at the beginning of the summer, I had very different goals and viewpoints in mind, in every sense of the word. I saw a long-term future with Jill, and a continued career in the academic world. Sadly, the move, which we had hoped would help fix the issues she and I faced, only caused them to grow and ultimately led to the demise of the realtionship, and my severe need of an acadmic break caused a rethinking of my career moves.
In the wake of that ending a new beginning arose; one that I was not suspecting. A refound friendship with Skeptigal, who also was just out of a relationship blossomed quickly back into the state of being we had obtained before her original move to Ottawa four years ago. Except this time, there was a deeper connection than before. Something was just.... so completely right about the situation. It seemed that we had not really been apart, even though we had for several years. This connection... well the long and short of it, has led me to propose. She has accepted and we are to be married next year, on September 8th in Ottawa. It seems fast sometimes, and perfectly right at the same time. It is truly a wonderful thing. We fit together in ways I couldn't really have imagined. It lends credence to the concept of fate for me, that somehow, this was just meant to be.
I hope everyone is as happy as I am right now, and I hope that you are happy for me as well =)

Busy as the day is long....

Bike riding is no longer a pleasureable way to travel. The temperature has finally dipped and stayed below 10 degrees, we have had snow warnings the past two nights, and some brief flurry activity last night on the bike ride home. I am supposed to be in the downtown location by now, but that has yet to happen. Apparently the next weekend I work, three weeks from now will see me out in the mall for Friday's shift, sat and sun downtown and Monday back out at the mall, and then that is supposed to be the norm until xmas comes.There have been major life changes, some sad, some good, some amazing. School is incredible, and frustrating, and exciting and dull and... well you name it... mostly exhausting. Trying to support myself by work outside of the program is taking its toll and we are only a month and a half in. I feel very connected to others on a personal level, I feel aliented from others on a wider level, and I miss my friends from home every now and then. Oddly enough, though, I don't miss home itself. A week today I am in Ottawa again to write the civil service exams, and to spend time with Skeptigal which I am very much looking forward to. After the exams there will be a trip to Pub Italia to continue my quest to drink my way around the world via their beer menu, and to meet up with Jeff and Brenda. After that a day of relaxation and cuddling, and then back to Kingston to being an insane schedule of marking, paper writing, presentaion preparing, exam invijilating and work. Back to Ottawa the following weekend to scout locations with skeptigal etc and visit the family. The back again to Kingston to present the aforementioned presentation, work some more and research research research. Perhaps there will be some sleeping somewhere alogn the way. Jill will be coming in the first week of November to collect the remainder of her things, and it will be nice to see her and see how she is doing, and maybe meet the mysterious friend of hers.I am loving the fall here, though it is damper than I thought it would be, and I am loving the grad program though it is making my head hurt more than I thought it would and I am in love which carries me through the darkest times... Life is good =) Now if we can eliminate the bike ride, and cut down the external work hours, everything will be perfect =)

Frustrated Inc

Frustrated, Incorporated
Well I know just what you need
I might just have the thing
I know what you'd pay to see

Wow,it is amazing how things can quickly be set off-kilter. Today started as any other day, well not just any other day, but a fairly standard day. Rousing myself into the morning, coffee made, quick phone call to help keep the day happy, and then into both school-like productiveness, and household productiveness. I accomplished much. Dishes are done, this weeks web postings for school are 3/4's complete, I am ahead in my readings. I check the mail and in it there is notification that for my last year of my BA I wsa again appointed to the Dean's List. The extra groud beef is browning as I type. The weekends lasagna is portioned and wrapped and freezing, and I made it to the bank to deposit my check.
When I did so, however, I noticed that I was short, by an amount of $220.70, form my account. This is.... problematic... as rent will be coming out any day now.
So I rushed myself back home (I know my tenses are all screwed up here) and discovered upon phoning my bank that my previous paycheck (not the one I just deposited, but the one before) was returned because my employer's account was NSF. This... concerns me and of course, I cannot find my employer to ask about it, he is apparently inbetween locations. What concerns me more is that it is now too late to apply for any of the on-campus jobs, I have missed the deadline by one week. So if it turns out that my current employers finances are such that I have to worry about every paycheck and I should find a new job, I have missed the window of opportunity because I opted to stay with this employer out of loyalty, then things are about to get very tight.
I feel angry, I feel a little betrayed, and I feel a lot worried. One should not have to wonder if one's paycheck is going to bounce. A phone call right now from my employer would go a really long way to fixing this mood. Hopefully the phone will ring before I head off to work a shift for him this evening.