oh the guilt

Out of all Wight's stories I think these have to be my favorite ones.

I'm a total sucker for cats, so I guess that makes me partisan. I enjoy watching neighborhood cats roam freely in "our" backyard. I never miss a chance to pet one if they allow me the honor. Hell, I might even be forced to do some jedi mind tricks from time to time in order to come to closer petting distances with them. Sometimes it works, too - provided there's enough time.

There is something otherworldly-like in those supremely selfish fur balls. Our cats were always on the porch, waiting, when we'd come back home from our longer trips. The times that I've witnessed cats "talk" have been spooky if not down right scary. This happens when they bitch mouth to other felines outside in the wee hours in complete darkness. But it could just as well happen in the broad daylight after they've eaten some grass etc. in order to flush all that hair out of their system once in a while.

The ominous sounds these felines are capable of producing is something you have to hear for yourself to believe it. Once, when I didn't at first even see our cat, he made these human-like sounds that I could have swore that my cat had just addressed me and started spewing me ultimatums like he was the devil himself. It felt quite possible worse when I actually saw him "speaking". No wonder cats and horror films/stories go together so well...

I must admit that sometimes I even borrow our neighbors cats for a short while by letting them wander inside the house if they want to. I make sure I never feed them though - intentionally or unintentionally - and I let them out the minute they express the desire to leave. When I was growing up we always had cats, so my love for cats is deep rooted. I miss the interaction. I miss having lost those moments for good when a purring cat is cuddled up next to you when you are sleeping or just lying on your bed or on the sofa.

I don't believe there can even exist an authority on cats, but I do claim to know a thing or two about what cats tend to like, what they tend to hate and what things in general motivate them and make them tick. Domesticated or not, cats want and need their freedom and (so-called) independence. Most, if not all, cats love to pick a fight. That's just part of their nature. Like most people I too suppose that helps to keep their killer instincts - and actual hunting skills - in check.

But on top of that, I do believe that they also just enjoy it for no particular reason. Like humans, cats are moody, unpredictable race. Instead of following the most direct imaginary line from point A to point B, they might execute a precision pre-emptive strike all of a sudden on the nearest innocent tree. And then continue on. Just for the hell of it. Just like a semi-weird (or just playful) person might.

In general cats do love to be petted but there's a fine line between getting empathy back and getting scratched. They probably don't intend to hurt you, but when a cat's claws are out, make no mistake: they are going to use them and you better hope you have quick reflexes. With practice one can learn to anticipate cat's mood swings. But only fail proof method is to leave the cat alone.

In a sense cats really are pretty rude and ungrateful assholes. While a well trained dog would never, or almost never, bite the hand that feeds, cats let you have it almost every time even when you've cohabited for years and years and know each other well. They also never forget to grant you with their patented evil look, either. When offended - rightly or wrongly - and If they could talk, they'd probably say something like this: "Well, I'll be damned sure to remember that one, you asshole! Just wait and see. Bud-dy."

With cats you will always overstep your limits and you will always overstay your welcome. Because cats are moody. Just like people are moody. Only babies and dogs love you back unconditionally. With cats it's more or less always a love/hate -relationship. As it is with real human relationships as well. Dogs want to serve and protect you. Cats expect the same from you.

(Not that cats couldn't take care of themselves just fine. I've seen it happen too many times when foolish dogs come too close to cats who decide to have a showdown then and there. Some dogs are fast. All cats are faster. I can't tell which one takes less time: the time it takes for a cat to claw the dog's face, or the time it takes for the dog to run back to cover/to its master?)

Although I've always been somewhat allergic to cats, I can't help but still love their company. But long gone are the days when I could personally justify keeping a pet. It's one thing to eat animals, but it's another thing to argue an animal would prefer to live its whole life largely or solely indoors in any case.

I find animal shows particularly and the pet industry in general repulsive. I frequently have to question dog owners sanity when I see and hear about dogs who - by human design - have to suffer from pains and difficulties for our sake, for our own stupid vanity and/or self-inflicted "loneliness".

If you want a pet, you need to have an actual life style that allows having one. By and large it would mean moving to the country. You can't have all. And animals deserve better. Much better. It's that simple. If you are healthy enough to take care of a pet, you are healthy enough to move to the countryside as well.

I can appreciate the premise a lot.

We can nitpick about this or that, whether Garreau's treatment is accurate or not (or whether it was in/accurate even when the book was published), but it doesn't change the overall message: you are where you live.

The fundamental fault with nation-states - that we all instinctively acknowledge - is just this: they are artificial. Differences might be eroding over time, but not necessarily. On the contrary: we have Scotts who want to be Scottish not British, Quebecers who want to be Quebecers rather than Canadian, the Basques, the Sami, etc. The list is getting longer - not shorter.

In moral stand point alone we should always let "nations" (for a lack of better word) be what they want to be. The geography matters. It always has and always will.

For example New Yorkers aren't exactly Americans either. They just happen to speak English (or at least try to for a whopping 36% of New Yorkers (and that particular piece of statistics is outdated by 8 years already, mind you) are foreign-born - and the rest are either out-of-towners or just plain old, largely anonymous suburbanites). New Yorkers are Big City Dwellers. Just like those living in Moscow, Tokio, Paris, London and so on. They have a different lifestyle, a different mind frame than someone who for example lives in a small town - let alone village or a farm. Just like the one who lives in Ithaca has less to do with him/her being an "American" than it is about him/her being someone who - for one reason or the other - resides in a distinctly University Town. Call them U-Towners if you will.

A yuppie (are we still allowed to use that term?) New Yorker can't expect to stay the same if s/he is to move to a less crowded place. Ditto with rednecks. It wouldn't work, it never does.

I'm guessing before patriotism people just got along. As neighbors they pretty much have to. They might hate each others guts but what can they do? If neither one is willing to call it quits and leave, there's only one thing they can do without a fear of retaliation: you learn to tolerate. In time you might learn to see your neighbor's point of view - or at least your kids will. Sometimes it takes a generation or two to dispel idiocy. In the end they all get along famously. And all is good.

That is until some first-grade assholes come along, tell you lies about your neighbor and finally ask you to wipe them off the face of the planet - for no good reason... Well, other than the gun pointed at your own head. We hate to kill but we dislike dying even more. It's just that simple.

Yea but no but... can't really remember much which is always telling. But I'm sure you can spend your time doing something more fruitful.

I don't really know what - if anything - is bugging Chuckie but it sure seems like he wants people to see him as a weirdo. Begs the question: why? Is he just another attention whore?

Palahniuk hit some nerve with his film adaption of Fight Club, though why exactly I'm not sure. It's not like the book or the film dealt with alienation the first time ever. And his answer was in essence what? To use the system to your own advantage.. and to free some poor caged animals from the zoo like it would help dick? Blow up the whole f*ucking house to pieces?

Yeah, that always helps.

I dunno. All these authors of fiction. Maybe we just don't need them anymore.

Maybe we never have?


PS. I do still clean my microwave oven per Chuck's teaching (though I'm sure he stole the idea from someone else). Works every time. Shit like this is actually useful to the readers. I sense a higher calling for you man. House cleaning, that's where the money's at. Plus doing household chores truly gives us a sense of accomplishment - every single time. Priceless. You're in the wrong business, my friend.

Most folks already know what is meant by Kafka's metamorphosis, so reading the novel was a bit of a let down from what I can remember.

There's something inherently funny (or just irritating) about depressed writers always possessing just enough will power for them to be able to keep on churning more books about the unbearableness of life in general and their's particularly.

Like typical humanists that they tend to be, they rarely if ever bother explaining us just what exactly is wrong.

Notice how many authors not only tend to shy away from serious discussion but positively avoid or entirely decline to comment?

Maybe they know that they don't know?

I mean if you manage to have enough food on the table on a daily basis, you're not forced to live on the streets, and no one's beating you, then on a grander scale you really should call yourself lucky.

Sure, life isn't perfect and it could be a lot more pleasant place to be in, but there's an awful lot that an individual or group of individuals can do to make life more bearable if not for everyone, for themselves at least. Particularly when they are educated city dwellers.

Ok, so Kafka's father-son-relationship wasn't ideal. Newsflash: it never is, and I can only view that as a nature's only way of showing us that we are not to blindly follow and depend on our parents, or anybody else for that matter.

And Kafka wasn't too comfortable with sexuality either which I can only assume is more or less universal, though probably more disruptive in people who come from religious backgrounds.

We should also keep in mind that, unlike now, in the turn of the century you wouldn't hear people talk so openly and casually about sex in any case - and certainly not in the public.

Times were different back then when it came to child rearing to begin with.

Some people like to argue that Hitler became what he became because of his often violent and degrading upbringing. Others have pointed that at that time such "harsh" methods were adopted by fathers (especially) throughout German-speaking countries - probably it wasn't that much different any where else either. Back then in child rearing literature discipline and sternness was considered more or less normal if not openly desirable.

I personally fail to see how violent, degrading and often more or less irrational treatment would ever benefit anyone, I'm merely providing historical perspective on the matter. And it is hard for me to imagine how generations after generations of emotional neglect would not ultimately shape our entire history.

I believe Kafka indeed had many, many "brothers-in-arms". Maybe he was somewhat more sensitive and introverted than the next guy, but certainly his upbringing wasn't wildly out-of-ordinary.

Ok, so with this out of the way, what other burdens the man had to bear? His background was (upper) middle class, they weren't exactly short of money, education was highly valued in the family and he had the opportunity to educate himself all the way to university. If becoming a lawyer is still a fast-track to success (by the most common definition, that is), back then it must have been both socially and economically like winning in the lottery - particularly for a someone who happens to be a Jew. Oh yeah, Kafka seemed to have a hard time dealing with his Jewish background - just like it seems to be the case with every other Jew since dawn of time.

And I am a great admirer of Jewish people. I think they should have a category of their own in the Nobels, so other folks could feel like they've accomplished something of value and merit, too (even when their work would be more or less second-rate).

But let's just say Kafka had it really bad, and end discussion there. Let's not try to analyze his work as it is without focusing in on all that excess baggage called unhappy childhood and troubled youth. Instead let's try to find hidden meanings, symbolism and allegories, prescience and impressive social critique even when none seems to be present. In a word: let's mystify the man who never finished his novels and supposedly burned 90% of his writing even more and particularly his writing.

Been years since I read this.

Was a bit of a mishmash, wasn't it?

There's just something about the way Vonnegut writes that I don't personally find really engaging. Or even that funny.

Wouldn't it be quaint and funny idea for a novel where people would evolve to be like seals? Umm... not really?

I'm not sure if Vonnegut really aims or even wants to say anything about anything. And I see little if any value in reading such a writer.

Ok, so I'm not sure if I read this book or just a paper by Mr. Schwartz of the same subject.

Doesn't matter either way, as long as you grasp the concept which is that being a maximizer in everything (or most things in your life) is no way to maximize your happiness (though I personally find contentment far worthier pursuit - in my mind happiness manifests itself only in fleeting moments) - on the contrary.

Some say Schwartz' ideas are but common knowledge. Rightly so. And it's great to have that "knowledge" in one package. I'm guessing very few indeed analytically think about the choices we all make and have to make in our daily lives. This book reminds us that we really ought to - not at every possible chance but when it really matters.

I personally feel that the best tactics is to learn to become a satisficer in all walks of life apart from love, relationships and arts. You will want friends that are worthy of your friendship, you will want to love someone who will love you back even when you are sick, broke or in a cranky mood, and you will want to be awestruck by works of art - time and time again.

According to wikipedia further studies have failed to prove Schwartz' thesis that too much choice causes stress. Of course that is a generalization to begin with. Individuals react differently. And individuals themselves value some things higher than other things. For example I couldn't care less about what beer I'm drinking. They all taste more or less like piss and all I ask for a beer is to get me drunk. But I care immensely what kind of a music I want to listen to.

Some tests that Schwartz has conducted seem to point in the direction that there could be about an equal amount of "extreme" maximizer (10%) and "extreme" satisficers (10%). The rest of us would fall somewhere along those two opposites. But it's rarely if ever a clear-cut case. As people change, so do their preferences. Having the latest smart phone is probably less meaningful to someone who's pushing 50, 40 or even 30 than it is to 20-somethings.

And of course there's this thing called adaptation. Some folks adapt rather quickly and rather effortlessly, others "require" more time. But there are also those people around who do not particularly even want to adapt. Because sometimes adapting is not that different from giving up altogether. You know by now that I'm one of those people.

I don't care for the illusion of choice. As a consumer I want actual, factual choices, not cosmetic ones. For example, there's about million "different" computer models - yet you can't buy a bare bones laptop that is really only fit for writing and very light web browsing purposes. With today's battery technology, flash memories and low to no power drawing chips and displays you could probably keep on writing with such a machine for solid 24 hours - days if using e-ink display technology. There simply isn't such a machine in the market, anywhere, at any price.

I can't call the market and ask it to make me one. I could call every manufacturer and they would all tell me the same: not enough demand. Indeed - how the hell could there even be demand if and when potential buyers aren't even aware that such a laptop could already be built first thing tomorrow?

Tisk, tisk.

See my review of The Iron Heel

Though with all respect to you hippies out there, anarchy will never work in reality.

Without established rule (of law), bigger men (and women) will rape petite hippie girls (and guys) for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And there's absolutely nothing they can do about it.

Hippies best friends are cops. Think about it.

Holier-than-thou Thoreau. The über-Hippie. The one who lived a stone throw away from his momma's kitchen. And from the Emersons'. From the civilization in general.

Oh yea, aimma gunna say it the first thing that "I didn't want to get away from people in the first place". But then aimma gunna do my very best to sound like the quintessential hippie who lives on his own, on his own land, in a house he built with his own hands, raising crops, far from civilization, all but isolated from the modern-life predicaments.

Yes, for the love of man, people can (and still do) live with very little means. It can be done. Still. Should a man absolutely need to - or want to.

The question is why should we as a species aim for such a life?

Would it be more sustainable? No. There's now over 7 billion of us on the planet. To even have the audacity to hint that everyone could (and should!) live on a small parcel of land and live off of crops (and possibly fish), is beyond idiotic, it's positively lunatic (even in 1850 when there were some 1.2 billion humans).

Would it be more enjoyable? No. You can simply refuse to do stuff you see no value in. Quit facebooking, quit reading news that don't matter, quit reading shitty book, listening to shitty music and so on. Quit mingling with people you have no respect for. Quit doing work that is of no use to anyone. Quit buying junk.

That part is easy. The part where you must be able to some way, some how come up with a daily caloric intake (without stealing) 24/7 all year every year by yourself in a small patch of land (that may or may not be suitable for farming to begin with) is unimaginably hard, disease ridden and dull life - and 9 people out of 10 couldn't cut it even if they really, really wanted to.

But let's just f*cking do it anyways because every other hippie says it can be done and we'd all be better off because of it. Praise Gaia!

J-F-C...


PS. I do think that a "quiet desperation" is a fitting expression. I would hesitate to apply the term to the bulk of mankind, however. I fear that mostly people simply choose to go with the flow because going against it tends to be much harder. Even so much so that it can positively get you killed. We all know that the easy way may not necessarily fulfill our dreams or even our moral standards, but since it is at least a surer guarantee of some measure of quality of life, we tend to take it than risk everything and gain nothing.

Tisk, tisk.

Read this (years ago) because it was considered a classic. Maybe my first Vonnegut.

I too - like the majority of us I presume - has already seen some footage of Dresden bombing. It surely must have been hellish for civilians living there.

But these days an average person has "seen" so much senseless killing that he is ultimately left cold. Sorry, but the book didn't really make me feel much. It was more or less, meh.

We probably should be shocked about people's "unshockability" (and nonchalant, expedient recoverability) - but we're just not.

The "normal" time frame for a recovery (however that gets defined) is getting shorter by the minute. Today if you mourn the loss of a loved one for more than six months (or a full year - my god!), they say you are hanging onto past, it is not healthy, and it is not right. If one should "only" lose a meaningful relationship, means shit today.

Everything is viewed as a commodity: one thing might be outwardly somewhat different but essentially they are all the same. Just get a new wife, just find a new, better, boyfriend, and so on. Get with the program. The faster, the better. And it's better for the economy, too! Yea!

This is f*cking bullshit. At some point we simply must reserve the term human to some other species that seem to manifest those "human" qualities - I'm sorry - weaknesses.

Ok, end of rant (for now).

Read this more than 10 years ago.

I read the version which included author's "foreword" concerning all the things he had learned from doing drugs. It's more of an article really. I think it should be a mandatory reading for those in the medical profession.

But I really think that everyone should read it (the introduction - not the book, for there really is no such a thing). You might learn something useful and it might possibly help some who is tempted to steer clear from drugs (not that I'm saying you shouldn't do it if you want to). For me, it merely showed what I already had assumed: that it is possible to abuse your body to no end and still end up as a normal person. It's not the drugs, people, it is you!

There's no such thing as drugs being capable of changing your whole identity and personality to something entirely different - not to mention for good. If you are dumb or weak - or both - there's a good chance that you will fall as victim. But there's just as good of a chance for you to fall as victim of life, no matter what your excuse is. This is the real lesson of drug use.

The "book" itself is just a big waste of everyone's time - including Burroughs'.

The only wisdom provided herein is the quote "arousal, discharge and rest" (which I'm sure is just common medical jargon - so, so much for originality in thinking, Billy boy). But still, it's as accurate description of life as possible when you can only describe it in just three words.

Rule number one: too much is too much.

If you want to know just what King thinks about the topic of horror himself, you should read this.

See my review of No Logo: No Space, No Choice, No Jobs

This is the book where ultimately even the bloody vacuum cleaner starts terrorizing people - right?

I know I'm right. Great premise ruined with silly shit that might offer a comic relief in a movie format but in a book abruptly and completely kills the mood and hence the whole story.

Sometimes when you read King you wonder if there really is something wrong with this guy after all. Maybe his brain has momentary but frequent lapses that only we, the readers, get to see in print (because he either has no editor or s/he's too intimidated to say anything)?

Some folks say that King for some reason alternates by writing a good book, then a shitty one, then another good book, and so on.

I don't care who you are, but you do not write 300 pages about a woman trapped in a bed. And then flavor it with some spooky spices. J-F-C.

I think this was King's attempt at writing something coherent about sex and sexuality because for some reason this territory seems to be like outer space to him. OMG - a father gets a boner around his prepubescent daughter! That can never happen to anyone normal! Burn, pedo, burn!

But seriously King, just see a sex counselor, even as a joke, and see if there really could be something that's making the whole sex issue that hard on you (no pun intended)?