MOVING DAY!

This is just a quick post to point my readers to the shiny new home of my blog, which can henceforth be found amongst the musings at Elitist Idiots (that's www.elitistidiots.com). Look for posts with my "name" (xarexerax) as the author, and there I am!

Elitist Idiots is a collaborative project that I've been working with for some time, but haven't had much to show for it yet. This move was delayed in the meantime while we, as a group, found some direction, settled on a style, and otherwise learned to cooperate with one another towards a unified idea.

I encourage you to check out the other content there as well. There may not be a whole lot right now, but there's things in the pipeline that we're excited about. Keep an eye on us.

MOVING DAY!

Senseless Promotion

Recently a group of my associates and myself stumbled upon a musician by the name of Doctor Steel. I say musician because that seems to be the primary output of the amusing little image/world he's created for himself; beyond the music, there's an entire culture supporting this "mad scientist" vision of world domination, complete with "Ask Dr. Steel" clips, full-length Public Service Announcement styled videos supporting creativity and imagination, and a bevy of other things, all devoted to touting this "future world emperor" and his proposed "Utopian Playand".

Now, I'm not one for getting caught up in off-color hype and dedicating my life to someone else for the sheer joy of signing off and doing whatever this person tells me to just because I've stumbled on them through this lovely internet that we've got going, but whatever this crazy is cooking in his head is pretty cool, actually. His plan for the future -- once he takes over the world, of course -- is a world where the primary concern of its citizens is fun. He encourages people to do whatever they want, to think for themselves, to chase their uncatchable dreams and seek the pleasures of their true desires rather than being tied to the monotony of a daily grind dedicated solely to the accumulation of what small measure of wealth we can obtain. His message, while tinged through the lenses of a self-purported madman, is one of simplicity and the ability to enjoy life, to see through the eyes of a child. And why shouldn't we? Why would we devote ourselves to pursuits that we don't enjoy?

Now, there's still a sense of rationality here. I know that, for reasons beyond what I care to delve into, I can't just cast aside all sense of responsibility and just strip down for a lark in a meadow or something like that. I can't just flee the sense of taking care of the things I need to tend to, but at the same time, to be wholly consumed by existence for the sake of existence is just as bad; while we must cater to the needs and wants of ourselves and those we love, to replace our former childlike appreciation for the beauty in the world with a dull resignation to the encroaching banality of corporate life is surely a mistake. And with that in mind, I've taken up the banner of promoting Doctor Steel through the community surrounding his intoxicating madness, the Army of Toy Soldiers.

And why am I blathering about all of this here? Because I want to spread the word. I'm not really sure whether I'd want to see Doctor Steel, whoever he may have once been, take over the world, but I can certainly agree with a community that's dedicated to setting aside any differences and objections, putting away the miserable ruts of life and hatred spawned from so many other subgroups of humanity these days to get together as humans, as people joined in a single cause: to enjoy themselves and the world we share. So many things I've seen are focused on some kind of negative or holier-than-thou precept, from religious or political institutions to street gangs and back-alley drug rings, we as humans so often attach ourselves to this sense that we're not just different, but we're better for it. It's present in the "God Hates Fags" protestors of Westboro Baptist right on down through the pro-gay alliance, PETA, executive boardrooms, dusty poker dens; pretty much anywhere that people gather with likeminded individuals, we find ourselves separating "us" from "them" not in a way that acknowledges the shared trait of "human" but focuses on the unique constrictions that make us smarter, more free, more tolerant. Don't even get me started on the "more tolerant" types. I could ramble for days on the inconsistencies of those abusive arguments and the precepts which they bear with such zealous fervor that I'm just waiting for the powderkeg to really burst.

This, though, seems something different. Of course there's a mindset that goes into it, but one of the most celebrated aspects is the diversity of the community itself. It seems to attract all sorts, reaches all ages, transcends all sense of demographic as regularly defined by Nielsen ratings and advertising moguls the world over. Out of this, too, there grows an expanding sense of community; discussions of politics and spirituality are not wholly inclusive, such as they are with groups drawn from such pools, but at the same time, they're not considered wholly tabboo as would be expected in many non-affiliated groups. They are openly and freely discussed, and from what I've seen, all the unique worldviews are welcomed openly and met with interest and comparison of ideas and ideologies rather than hate, debate, or the classic "you're wrong because I'm right and we can't both be right" mentality that so often spoils efforts to explore this aspect of our communal humanity and the myriad vestiges of faiths and concepts old and new. And it accomplishes all of this, of course, while encouraging each of its members to think, to be creative and intelligent, to be expressive and imaginative, to be open-minded and to freely indulge in the pleasures of life, whether with hedonistic vigor or quiet appreciation of the whole of our percieved universe.

On that note, I encourage you all to check out the music and artistic musings of Doctor Steel. Any search engine should be able to bring you to his website; it's a veritable cornucopia of strange artisitc expressions. You may like it, you may hate it, you may be wholly indifferent; what matters is that you give it a try, that you open yourself to the possibilities of life -- and whether you feel like swearing digital loyalty to some would-be world emperor or not, I certainly encourage you all to find new and innovative ways to truly get the best of your lives in, and to deeply and truly and with reckless abandon have fun and don't give in for anything.

To a Utopian Playland!

Senseless Promotion

Sacrifice

My last few posts here have been centered on addiction, on the feelings associated with engaging in some often self-destructive habit that feeds our own internal desire to cling to the familiar and explore the limits of desire, whether through indulgence or mere habitual acceptance to partake in a given vice. But what of the other side of that, of the drive that made me forego my usual comfort-zone addictions and delve into the realm of withdrawals?

Generally this severance is taken as part of a ritual of some sort, be it social, religious, or entirely personal; there are those who fast, or remove from themselves some other thing which causes them this suffering, in the hopes that this purity of body will bring to them an expanded consciousness or further their spiritual development; Christianity -- and Catholicism in particular -- has the annual deprivation rite of Lent, where one cuts unnecessary aspects of one's life to attain a clearer understanding of the concepts of resisting temptation and to represent the fasting Jesus undertook before being tempted by Satan in the desert. Then we have the social aspect, the rehabilitation clinics and 12-step programs to help people "get on the wagon" and find themselves in a state that's more socially "appropriate" so that they can continue to succeed, to be role models, to recapture the public's affections after a stormy fall from grace at the hands of heroin, cocaine, or alcohol.

And why? What sense of this makes us feel as if this improves us as people? Is it that we feel that through intentional suffering, we steel ourselves against the inevitable sting of temptations that we must resist for their own sake? A human is only as strong as they will themselves to be, after all, so these trappings of tradition and ritual can certainly serve to bolster the mind that would otherwise falter, can bring one to a sense of self-satisfaction and purify the guilt that society so often heaps upon the addicted, no matter their affliction; we seek to prove to ourselves and to the world that we truly can "quit any time we want" and then, having made our point by lasting the 40 days of Lent, the 6 months to get that next tag, the first few weeks of intense withdrawals to be overcome, we allow ourselves the victory relapse of diving full-bore back into our own vexations and cravings; a congratulatory leap from the wagon to the watering hole, followed by the same repeating cycle of self-induced guilt forged from the taboos of sociopolitical ethos and group morality until we are driven again to seek the succor from our own imagined hell through the dedication to some other program, some other ritual of salvation through starvation of our basest desires.

I think that through this dedication to deprivation, we learn to see ourselves through limits rather than shortcomings; in addiction, in trying through futility to break such, we see only our failures and pitfalls. Through superceding that with some overdriven dedication to the removal of that aspect, we gain a control over ourselves and our existences; we shift or view not to that which holds us back, but that which we push against to become something greater either in our mind's eye or in the public's distorted sense of super-ego and semireligious group morality. This more positive spin on existing struggles brings us the hope and necessary strength to overcome our other weaknesses, to improve the force of our will that we might grow and mature and blossom into something more than what we were; through divesting ourselves of these fractuous clingings-on to unnecessary aspects of our lives, we find that we have strength beyond our own measure.

And so, fight on! If you find yourself addicted to something, remove it; not forever, not to prove to society that you can kick it to the curb, but to prove to yourself that you ARE capable of what you set your mind to. This is not a test, this is not a challenge; this is a suggestion to grow in yourself and expand your own mind through the dedication to yourself and your own life. Accept or deny it as you will.

Sacrifice

Addictions and More

First, a quick note. There's now a PayPal Donate button located on the right side of this here thing. If any of you can spare anything, from $5 to $500, that would help myself and the love of my life come up with the last bit of cash to finalize everything we need for our upcoming wedding, I would be eternally grateful. Seriously, anything that can be given would help a great deal. I hate asking for handouts, but there are some times in life when it cannot seem to be avoided, as much as I would love to find another way.

Now, on to business. Through this blog and some Facebook posts, a number of people have been tracking the progess of my week without caffeine. Overall, the experiment has been mostly one in self-flagellation; between the intermittent headaches, the horrible leg cramps, and being excessively tired, I have little to show for it than a stubborn resolve to stick to my guns and teeth that are probably whiter than they've been in years by the grace of not being stained by a constant flow of coffee and tea.

What it has given in benefit, though, is a dose of perspective and plenty of food for thought in the realm of addiction, withdrawals, and the whole "doing without" aspect of life. I think that it's really shown me, both through my own actions and in things going on around me, that people really can become addicted to anything. Work, school, friends, family, drugs, emotions, the whole range of things with which we're capable of interacting becomes a minefield of potential additictions when the collective human inclination to attach ourselves to that which we enjoy kicks in. We embrace those things in life which give us pleasure, and this becomes a form of avarice through our desire for more of that selfsame pleasure; we are driven to seek out the things that we enjoy, even if those things may be obviously self-destructive or detrimental. Look at the case of the smoker, such as myself, who knows the risks and dangers of engaging in the activity and says that they are going to, or are trying to, quit, but just need that one more cigarette to help them calm down, they've had a stressful day at work, and I just can't sleep when I'm feeling jittery like this, and well, now it's morning and I don't want to face the day without this anchor that helps me wake up, or take a break from the day while toiling away at work -- the cycle is nearly endless.

Look, too, to the abusive relationships of the world, to the people who cling to their non-lover despite the clear and undeniable acts of violence or hate, of sheer uncontrollable rage; oh, that's just how he is, he doesn't mean to hurt me -- excuses formed to keep ourselves from having to face the reality of cutting ourselves away from what we know and, for strange reasons, find comfort in. Change is a scary thing, even when that change is for the better; thus, we allow the addiction to take hold, we become enslaved to our own perception of what we need, what we want, what we idealize about the things we have, flatly ignoring the blaring klaxons screaming at us to wake up and see the light and break ourselves from our own self-terminating tendencies. We begrudgingly light another cigarette, tell the nurse that we fell down the stairs, pull the tourniquet tight so we can get a good shot at that vein and find some relief in our death-obsessive desires, all the while knowing that any moment could be our last because we've chosen to hold to the objects, sensations, emotions that we know and understand, the comfortable realm of the already-experienced, daring not to tread into the dark waters of help and healing.

And why? Is it just fear? Is there no reason besides a deep-seated desire to avoid the unknown that makes us keep our shackles even though we hold the keys? The ache in my legs right now says, "Not at all". It's not just that we can't overcome some sense of paranoia that wells up from looking into the darkness; it's that we know that unfamiliar ground can be painful. The abusive boyfriend may leave bruises, but those fade faster than emotional scars. The cigarettes may cause cancer, but that's in the future, far off from the cravings and the mood swings in today's attempt to kick the habit. We stick to what we know not only because we find comfort in it, but because we know that out there, in the world away from where we are, there's a lurking pain just waiting for us to leap willingly into its grasp, stalking us at every turn and waiting for the slip where we finally decide to plunge into the darkness from whence it can strike; and once it has struck, we find ourselves yearning for the relief that only those very same corrosive habits can offer; the succor of a well-known hurt, of a masochistic indulgence that we've already embraced.

As this week draws to a close and I wait to re-embrace my own vice, I will muse on the idea of cutting oneself off from addiction and the various rites and rituals there entwined; more next week on the subject, once I'm caffeinated and have had more time to reflect on all of this. Suffice it to say that this has been a very interesting and surprisingly thought-provoking experiment on my part, and I'm excited to use the lessons therein.

Addictions and More

Decaffeination, Day 3

As I said, I'm making this post to chronicle the effects of cutting off my normally high caffeine intake. So far, the results of the experiment are ... unpleasant at best. The headaches come and go, but the key annoyance today has been an excrutiatingly painful bout of muscle tension in my legs. It feels like I went on a five-mile uphill run or something; it's off-and-on throughout the day, but stretching and other such things seem not to help at all. Going for my daily walk made it worse. Such are the pains of ignoring one's addictions, I suppose.

I'll have a much lengthier and more thought-provoking post Friday. For now, a quick update on where the experiment has landed me. Enjoy my misery for the time being.

Decaffeination, Day 3

(Experi)Mental Divergence

For those of you who don't know me, I'm an avid coffee drinker. Tea, too. I used to drink lots of sodas, energy drinks, and other sugar-caffeine concoctions, but at this point, I'm mostly down to the two main vices: straight black coffee (4-6 cups per day) and iced tea with a hint of lemon, no sugar (2-4 20oz. glasses per day). On a whim, though, today I've decided to launch an experiment. A test of my willpower, and a measurement of my ability to function without the benefits (and drawbacks) of caffeine in my system at all times, with more along the way as the day goes on.

Today is day one. I promised some folks that I'd try to post the results of my first day; so, without further ado ...

I notice first and foremost that I make more typoes that I have to correct as I go along. My fingers are slower to react, my brain just a little bit more behind itself, making it more difficult to get everything down the way I'd like it. Not too impairing, really, but a little annoying. I also feel pretty tired, but I suppose that's how you're supposed to feel after 10 hours at the office. On the whole, my body feels pretty good; to replace my normal coffee-and-tea regimen, I've been drinking water all day, and I expect this is going to help clean me out a bit, get my body more "in tune" with the way that it's supposed to be according to nature and/or hippies, whichever is more correct. While my mind is a bit dulled, it's also pretty focused; I'm finding it easier to focus on a single task, though more difficult to process that task efficiently. Overall effect on my efficiency in regards to work is minimal to nonpresent. More on that as the week drags on.

So, why would I put this up here, post about how I'm cutting some certain beverages from my life for a short period? Because I use this digital soapbox as a means to chronicle my endeavors, as discussed before, and to push myself to do it. I don't care if anyone's reading this, the fact is that the chance that there are people who might be means that I've got some obligation, self-invented though it may be, to stick to my game plan, if only so that I can accurately and truthfully report the results to whoever might be interested. Most people who know me haven't seen me after I've gone a week -- or, in many cases, even a day -- without caffeine. It's an exploration of myself in a way that is generally unseen and unknowable even to me.

The other reason is that because this record of my thoughts and journies is, in fact, another similar test. I've historically been a pretty closed-down person, keeping most things to myself and sharing only when I felt it was truly necessary. Now, though, it seems that more and more people expect, or desire, me to share more, to put thoughts into words, to put words into blogs, to put blogs into cyberspace, and so on. It's not just me, either; it's a whole global cultural revolution. Watching the page-view analysis of these few pages over the course of the last several months has been an interesting look into just how that works. The way that I "advertise" my blog is purely social; I don't pay for endorsements or advertisements, I just spread the word to my family, my friends, my coworkers, and urge them to do the same. The more I push that, the more I see an increased number of viewers; I know I've gone well above the relatively small number that I first informed about my encroaching endeavor to write.

So, experiments in mind, we travel into a new week. I will chronicle the progress of my decaffeination as they arise, probably two more posts this week to analyze and finally form some conclusions before diving back into the energetic (and delicious) pool of caffeinated beverages.

I'm thirsty already.

(Experi)Mental Divergence

Expiration and Inspiration

Sometimes, the most cathartic events can be the most unassuming everyday occurences.

I use this blog as a means to forge some silent legacy of myself, I think, and yet deny such accusations when pressed, because it seems to me an act of vanity; that said, I think it's time I admit to myself than even vanity is not, within its own confines, an evil thing -- my most recent recurrent revelation was the ageless bit of wisdom, "All things in moderation". This does not apply only to vices based in tangible things, nor in indulgences of those things which are supposed to be good, but it is meant to be truly all-encompassing. A bit of vanity, after all, merely manifests as an unshakable self-confidence without the requisite venomous pride so often attributed to those who truly see an inflated version of themselves infused with a greatness not truly their own.

And so, this purification of the concept of vanity as a deserved self-assurance brings me to a new pathway, one by which I can approach my corner of internet pseudofame with a renewed -- or perhaps wholly new -- sense of purpose and a dedication to the words that I choose and the people to whom I expose them. Whether I ever intend it or not, people will read the things that I write, and they will take from them lessons that are partially of my contrivance and largely of their own interpretation and manifest these subliminal lessons into their lives; I may as well admit that to myself, and to those who allow my attempts at self-expression to imprint a view upon their minds, that I may truly understand myself in the (likely misguided) hope that in so doing, I can agree to do my part in the mutual production that is our world, whatever kind of bit part it may be. Perhaps I'll cameo in the afterlife as well.

What gets me, then, is that I feel as if I have more concrete responsibility to write things that may be meaningful; that I must explore the boundaries of my own psyche to encourage thought and action in my readers -- wherein lies the pitfall of playing to one's audience, selecting a specific group, subgroup, or individual and attempting to tailor my voice to suit their needs, which I certainly wish to avoid. That said, the most important thing that I can offer to any man (or, for you equality-preaching types, woman) is the capacity to drive thought and through that thought drive action and through that action drive growth; personal development, revelation, the hunger to be something greater -- or to realize the greatness of what one has already become, to explore the limits of the human experience and drink from the well of shared-mind life.

Everyone has problems, has issues, has barriers which prevent their further evolution along their own mental landscape. This is the force which drives our struggles, and struggle is the only means by which we can seek to better ourselves. So, to best serve the greatest number of persons with my words (and/or supposed wisdom), the only thing I can hope to do is to analyse my own struggles and, from the lessons and growth I achieve, spread seeds of insight that can, on their own and in due time, find places to root and thereby drive a greater global consciousness.

Too often of late it seems to me that the primary reaction to tragedy, to struggle, is escapism; to avoid those issues which make us uncomfortable. This is the most toxic attitude present in humans today -- that we feel that if we shirk our problems for a long enough expanse, they will dissolve or self-correct, and we will have been able to achieve some sense of satisfactory growth through the simple act of having seen the troubles, rather than having faced them. We feel that by turning to things which alleviate our pains, we solve the things that harm us; too often, though, we turn to things even more harming to our minds and bodies to achieve these things, and we grab onto habits which, in their own time, will become the demons we must face if we expect to experience any sense of growth or personal revelation, or they become that which robs us of our life -- metaphorically at best, but often literally. The struggle, then, comes full circle; that all things must be in moderation. If you push too hard against all troubles, you will be broken; nobody is capable of taking on the world in a single battle. At the same time, to avoid the conflict altogether prevents the ability of one to ever achieve a greater self. And so we go on, escaping some battles, fighting others, and generally swinging blind on the battlefield of our existence.

What is most important to remember in this is that a battle need not be won in order for it to have been well-fought. Even the greatest among humans has had moments of defeat; it is what we do with that defeat which defines our legacy.

Expiration and Inspiration