After years of discovery and pondering, I have come to the clear decision that my favorite age of life for me, and for everyone else, is in The Year Twenty-Six. We aren’t in the Mozart Syndrome era yet — 26 is the imperfect and unsafe conflation of beauty and minding and of destruction and dismay.
It is important we are always learning and always keeping our minds keen and inquisitive. There are some evil efforts among us to dumb us down, to keep us complacent, and to make sure we cease to question authority and just place our blind belief in certain people to lead us.
We have a horrible new neighbor living above us, and she’s young and preppy and VERY LOUD! She bangs things on her wood floor/our ceiling all day and all night long. She walks heavy on her heels back and forth and back again. She drags her furniture across her wood floor/our ceiling that creates fingernails-on-chalkboard by osmosis.
I have taken to using earplugs when she’s at her most obnoxious and the earplugs do seem to filter out the precise range of her banging on our heads to make her terrorism from above us sort of tolerable. I’ll leave the whole injustice of, “Why should I have to wear earplugs all day long so I can’t hear you being obnoxious?” question for another day.
When Twitter was text-only, I confess to finding it a dry and wanting experience. I realize that sort of goes against my living mantra that The Word Rules — but I do think what sort of word rules us is important.
Now that Twitter are publishing inline images with Twitter streams, I actually appreciate the “worth a thousand words” addition to the brittle 140 character limit of a Tweet. Now the word reflects the image and the image reflexes the 140 construction.
I spent most of last Sunday night slowly and steadily working through the heap of responsibilities that I had steadfastly ignored in favor of the weekend. I did this despite knowing the pitfalls of procrastination, and unsurprisingly, I was tired when I woke up in the morning. I walked to meet a friend for breakfast, silently bemoaning my terrible decision the whole way there, and when I arrived, she was not in much better shape. We exchanged mumbles, I admitted I’d brought this fate entirely on myself, and her reaction was misguided, although sympathetic: “You want an Adderall?”
We think, and conscious lives are fed by our subconscious mind and inflicted behaviors unwittingly become us. In a recent conversation with Gordon Davidescu, we examined sleep learning and the power of the subconscious mind in the comments stream:
I take walks, too, when I get stuck on a problem. I go out, think about other things and then later on the answer magically appears on its own. Consciously letting go of the problem is the key to making it happen. That’s the hardest part to learn because we tend to want to actively seek solutions until we feel we’ve solved it. Letting go of unsolved things is tricky.
If you have $200.00USD to spare, there’s a book you need to buy — “Religion and Psychiatry: Beyond Boundaries” — and if you don’t have that much scratch, I’ll try to fill you in on a bit of what you’re missing.