2011年10月4日 Cruelty

Jim Henson on right with my cousin.

So I woke up Sunday morning to Labyrinth blaring on the TV, starring David Bowie and directed by Jim Henson. Outside of wanting to vomit on my groin, I couldn't help but wonder if this programming was actually helpful for children. How cruel was it to make them watch such a boring and tedious movie.

Alright, I take that back, the movie doesn't move nearly as fast as some of the shit on TV that most people watch. So having something that appears a little more deliberate was a nice change, and although I am not a fan of the movie I recommend that anyone who hasn't see it, at least watch the first 20 minutes, and last 10 minutes of the film. And more over, Jim Henson, enough said.

Somehow I thought about the lyrics from a quick ditty towards the end of the movie and how frankly no small child is going to really understand what it means.

Your eyes can be so cruel
Just as I can be so cruel
Though I do believe in you

Yes I do

Live without the sunlight
Love without your heartbeat

 

Live without sunlight?
Love without one's heartbeat?

Somehow I went back to reflecting on enduring suffering and unconditional sincerity. First, I don't think it's possible at all to love someone without a heartbeat, but that's just me. How can one genuinely care, if there is no fire inside? 

Obligation?

Probably.

Most people care for others the same way they care about sick animals. It's sad to say it, but it's true, no matter how cruel. A person of course will love X or Y person because society tells them to do it, or because the person receiving love feels great knowing that they are receiving love, - if you could call it that - and sure someone cares about them, even if secretly we know it's not true or at least real feelings. It's cruelty incarnate. And in some sick sense it also relates to war for some reason.

“War is cruelty. There's no use trying to reform it. The crueler it is, the sooner it will be over.”

W.T. Sherman

I'm not supposed to like it.

I know how to live without sunlight, as I live in the Pacific northwest. No shit, right? But what about living in the darkness? How strange it is, that such a film bothers me well after I see it, or rather, the words it brings up. It makes me cringe every time people say X or Y film is for children, or how the Torah and/or Christian Bible is okay reading material for children. Some ideas are never really directly brought up. It's a shame, but it's also good at times. Sometimes living in our own darkness can conceal us from the cruelty. Obviously coming out of hell, one sees the glory of the Lord, and realize such, regardless of whether or not they believe in G-d or Chuck Norris (because you can only pick one or the other, just like American politics). And no, voting for Mickey Mouse doesn't count.

So yes, people should know about this film and watch it. It has a good moral message, which is masturbation, and for once Jennifer Connelly doesn't appear as if she's a big douche-bag. Also the end is kind of out there. You can see part of it here [link].

"Yes, should you need us, for any reason at all."

In my life I've been told this, I have told it to someone else, and I have been told and told what Jennifer Connelly says in response. Unfortunately, I live in the real world, and there was no dance-party after such words arrived on my ears or another's. Cruelty, due or not, just or unjust, was with me, with them, with us. 

I wonder if it's necessary?

2011年10月3日 It doesn't matter anyhow

None of this shit is safe for work, safe for home use, or safe at all. 

Don't read this if you are a sensitive little girl, or you do not want to see graphic images of stuff that you could only imagine Catholic priests performing on small children (little boys) with impunity.

2011年10月2日 Shabbat Dreams, they last after I wake up

After shul I usually take a nap, since I'm not going to use a computer, phone, etc. I'll watch TV if it's left on, but I would not turn it on just to watch it. I usually enjoy sleeping, and dreaming, so it's kind of a bonus to have encouragement to due such.

Today's nap was kind of disturbing. I had a dream that reminded me of a large field, almost the same size of a football field, yet indoors. There were obstacles around the field to conceal oneself, etc. In a sense it looked like 2-fort on Team Fortress Classic, except without a moat, buildings, or a bridge.

I was on a "team" if you could call it that, consisting of mainly Japanese people who were college aged. They gave me some orders, to which I ignored, and then I went off to do my own thing. They didn't seem happy, but given what they ordered me to do, I felt totally useless. Although I can't remember what they wanted me to do. I think I spent most of my time watching the field from a concealed position where I could observe my "base" and the backs of the "enemies". I could have been flanked, but my position was awkward and of no use offensively for my team, other than passively. I remember tackling someone, and at some point the game concluded. I was bothered by some of the Japanese guys for my behavior or theirs, I can't remember, but I shrugged it off. 

What bothers me about this dream isn't that I have playing a first person shooter games, as I haven't in over a month, but rather what bothers me is that I actively thought about how different and apart from the Japanese I was in my dream and in real life. In my dream I thought about that in real life I have no Japanese friends. I have no one I could say I am extremely close with beyond quid pro quo. And honestly, I didn't know why. I could come up with bullshit intellectual reasons as to why we're different, blah blah blah. Culture this, culture that, but then I thought about other people whom I cared about, people further away than Japan. People from other parts of the world. And I love them, and I care about them. Yet the Japanese, I felt nothing for.

Then she came into my dream: my ex-(Japanese)-girlfriend, whom I'll refer to as Cake, which is kind of funny since real cake to me in general is kind of hit or miss, nor am I a big fan of such. I just picked "Cake" because "restricted" seemed to be more aggressive, if not dis-respective. 

I was actually surprised as happy to see her. She seemed casually indifferent, neither happy or sad to see me, yet greeted with me cordial mannerisms. I wasn't sure how else to talk to Cake other than the expected cordial, yet banal, set phrases in English and in Japanese. Then I woke up.

When I woke up, I realized that I most likely will never see her again or have a chance talk to her, but this didn't bother me a bit. What really-really bothered me, was that in my dream even after waking up, I felt as if I could call her a friend. So naturally it bothered me when I felt as if I had a Japanese friend, or rather a friend at all for that matter, but then I was coming to the conclusion that she wouldn't be one. And all avenues for that were gone. It was like visiting ruins that weren't worth visiting. Being hungry, and realizing no amount of food would change a thing. Trust between us died at some point, and after such a deep investment, regardless of what happened, a part of us died too.

I felt cold for a brief moment. Physically I was quite warm, although I had no blanket. Waking up wasn't something that was alien. Alien was waking up and adjusting to the loud noises, which surprisingly was not the reason for me waking up. My dreams were deep enough to have their own sound filters. I heard nothing else but the dreams, well, until I woke up. Duh.

I felt cold that even if she was my friend now, we were different people. I felt bad she would not know who I am. Maybe it's not for me to decide that, but I feel as if the person during those times - me - would not recognize the one writing this now.

Did I change that much? 

Did she? 

Would I still make sacrifices for her? 

Would she?

Did I die inside that much? 

Did she?

Is she happy about the same things from yesterday to today? 

Am I? 

"No, I'm not." 
But I won't change the past with the feelings of today or tomorrow, although I will allow facts to embellish the blurry sections of history, I will not allow such to manipulate the feelings of the past. 

I'd really like to believe that I won't allow it, but I am not sure if I have the desired discipline I revere so much.

"You're not happy at all, at least not about those things when you look back." 

I'm not angry either.  

"Everything you did, regardless of right or wrong, when you did a 100 percent you did not always get the final results you wanted."

I know. But we're not supposed to like it.

"I know."

I never liked dealing with issues where no one wins. I never liked watching people cut themselves off. They could have cut me, they could have hurt me. Making me bleed. All of it out. I was, nor am, ever happy to have them cut me, only to hurt themselves in the process. I can deal with the pain. - Really?- But I can't, or rather I have difficult, knowing they have theirs. Yet I still have seen some of them die a bit inside. 

For what, I don't know. Nor, am I supposed to know, I imagine.

"Do they?"

And yet people laughed at me, when I said was afraid of watching people die inside.

And yet people ignored me, when I said I wanted to grow.

"Good for you." I could hear words say. Just like them I could really only remember the bad things I did, and while I didn't want to appear as a braggart, I could almost see nothing with myself in terms of merits beyond intellectual or spiritual, and because of those things I couldn't actually put them on a resume. At least one that isn't being mailed to G-d. I don't even know if growing helps. Going higher and higher, only to have less oxygen at my disposal. Growth.

After that dream, I wondered if it was possible.

I wondered if the rain actually helped.

Before all this I wondered about G-d, wondering if He is going to come down and help. Only now, at the time I write this, do I realize that going to Him is like joining the Marine Corps 40 years ago: you must be broken, so that you can be rebuilt. It's not going to be overnight, it's not going to be easy, and it can't be without some degree or foundation of love. Even though at times I feel cold-hearted and uncaring. I'm sure some answers will come. Today's answer was in my Siddur (Sim Shalom). I think it refered to Psalm 147:3, but I don't know for sure. 

I'm not alone in being distracted!

In my situation, I have accepted that there are many things that distract me. Sometimes I see something, and I forget to take into account the situation that I am in. I'm not sure how else to express such frustration. I don't believe I'm avoiding my own situation, it's just that I do not value such, or rather I would not want to put my being and situations requiring such, above another's, unless it - another's lot - becomes problematic as in abusive or destructive for them. Gauging these things seems arbitrary, but necessary and unnecessary at the same time. I wonder about my lot in life. Sometimes, at least on a daily basis, I find something that is regrettable, yet I rarely ever find something that is never-regrettable, outside of love and friendship. As a result, when I think of the latter of those, I become distracted and avoid the trivial structures and foundations of societies.

It seems I am still dreaming, well after I wake up.

2011年10月1日 Speechless

A man walked in to my office. He took a seat in the chair across from me. I waited for him to say something, as he took of his hat. Whatever words that were on the end his tongue seemed to decay immediately as soon as his mouth opened and air rushed in. He tried to make eye contact, but his face would begin to flush. He'd glance away quickly as if he somehow managed to put up a dam a split second before water came crashing down over a rural valley town. I thought he was going to weep. I could only imagine what it would sound like. He had rough laborer-looking hands, yet something said he was intelligent given his mannerisms. I wondered if he did cry, would it sound like a walrus being disemboweled? Would the pain really end even after the tears were gone? I did not want to know at the moment.

I remembered I had a jar of warm water on a small file cabinet behind me. I poured and passed him a cup of water. He waved a thanks at me pursing his lips, though the rest of his face scrunched up. The only sound I heard was the water going into his mouth, and flowing down his throat. It reminded me of the sound of a whirlpool after I drain a bathtub or sink.

I think he finished in two or three sips. I did not watch him thoroughly enough as he drank. He was considerate enough to put the glass on an empty coaster near the edge of my sun damaged desk. My hand was covering part of my mouth when I thought he was ready to say something. He looked up at me. We briefly made eye contact, to which I gestured with my face-covering hand, opening my palm to the ceiling flexing my fingers out at him to stimulate some dialog.

He made an open palm and waved his hand left and right leaving his arm in place, making a "No." I shrugged and he stood up. He seemed as if he was about to shake my hand before I saw him reach behind himself. I shot him a glance and my hawkish eye-brows compacting them downward as I focused on him. I felt one of my fingers rub against the slightly warm steel of the Walther on my lower back. I was slightly relieved he paid me no attention as I saw the corner of his wallet from the edge of his trousers.

He smiled painfully, and put a $20 bill on the table and briskly walked out without gesturing at me further. I didn't even hear the door lock as he carefully, yet quickly, opened and closed the cheap communist Chinese manufactured door.

I left the bill on my desk for several hours wondering about him. He wasn't pretty, or ugly. He wasn't poor, but he didn't appear to be rich. I could have spent hours getting somewhere on who this was, given his appearance and clothing, yet the only thing that was of any interest to me was why he said so much without saying a word. My questions went nowhere, so I went back the the paper's crossword section and hoped for a new customer or returning client.

2011年9月30日 Done deals

Somehow I was able to help Dapl, but the stress of the situation prevents me from sleeping and also pains my knee.

I'm looking forward to actually having an opportunity to use a computer for more than a half and hour, and at least an opportunity to study at some point, since I've pretty much fucked off all my classes due to the Jew New Year. I need to tidy up my room, and do several other things. I just want to cancel life for this weekend. I want to cancel life, until I can consult myself in my dreams to see how to organize things outside of the dream world(s).

I don't really feel anything else beyond the stress I mentioned and some odd and alien degree of numbness. The numbness has to be a product of my reaction and action, maybe even lack thereof, to how I reflect on society and my place in such.

I will try to get sleep, as soon as my brain is willing to give me the go-ahead.

Somehow I know this is not really the love we dream of, but that's fine, it keeps me from the nightmares.
Maybe this is the problem? Maybe?

Sometimes my dreams are better than my daily life when I'm alone.

2011年9月29日 It's harder + The Dapl

I woke up around 7am thinking I had plenty of time to eat breakfast and make morning services at shul. And yet I ended up being slightly on time, which to others doesn't mean jack, since people came and went at will. Even in the middle of the service! Anyhow, I had NO IDEA the service was going to be 5 hours long, without a break. Damn.

One of the points that was addressed was the following:

Given a choice, it is better to die than:

• Rape someone or commit incest.
• Kill someone.
• Worship other gods or idolatry.

Surprisingly these things make sense to me. The rabbi went on about how technology and being connected sometimes negates our connection with ours or ourselves. Yes we can text at the dinner table when it's with our family, or updating one's status in the middle of the marriage ceremony [link].

What is idolatry? I worship a pillar or golden statue? To westerners this seems like a joke, yet people in the world STILL do this! Just look at Kamakura as an example. Worse, maybe it's not so clear now that things have changed for us, maybe it's not clear now that technology and society around us has changed. We're worshiping money, careers, and becoming a slave to those things all the while. Whether or not we're successful matters more to us than God.

Last night someone brought up, and said something about being a Jew and not being religious or believe in "God." I was wondering, but didn't say, 

"How the fuck are you a Jew then?   

Why did you even bother to cover your head as you lit those candles? 

Why should I wear a yarmulke?

How is it any different to worship your stuff or success as if it's a golden calf?

Why should ANYONE who wants to convert to be a Jew have to do it religiously then? Especially when you're not."

I wondered how some of them could say "Jews for Jesus" are not Jews, and yet the atheists among them, and agnostics could say even if G-d exists they wouldn't believe Him anyhow. I couldn't understand how it made sense for them to differentiate themselves from others. I'm not a Jew, and yet comparatively I could feel a certain degree of tension from them as I said I try my best to keep kosher and do my best to keep shabbos as holy as possible, except for driving. If I can light candles on shabbat, I can light gasoline on fire with the turn of a key. That's not work to me when I really enjoy it or am I using money, etc. I keep my phone off, I don't use email, I don't turn on a T.V., I don't do intense cooking. Blah blah blah. I felt bad for them. I felt bad for myself. Am I just wasting time? What's the point? Again, I felt like the question, "Who is a Jew?" Needed to be answered. Some of them did not keep kosher, nor did that really matter to me (whether or not they did), yet worst of all some did not believe "God" existed, yet they celebrate Rosh Hashanah, and Yom Kippur, and Passover, and even more.

On a side note, I have made it a point that I could eat at Subway if I told them NOT to use the same knife to cut my food as others, i.e. "Could you use a clean knife?" No diary with meat, which is easy since I don't like cheese. And Jew stuff can be really cheesy. Anyhow, I learned all this from Fig when he brought up his friend eating at Subway. At first I was thinking, "Nah I won't do that." But now I'm wondering how far I can bend the rules, just like a real Jew. Refer to Jacob, the Jew who basically told G-d "Help me and I'll believe in you! If not, I won't!" 

Okay back on the topic. "Culturally Jewish." Is a term that I want to banish to the back of my mind. Unlike Christmas which has been bastardized, violated, and commercialized I almost see no difference with those Jews. They're just like people who celebrate Christmas, yet claim "The Bible" and "Jesus" are all bullshit anyhow. And sure, why not, it's just a commercial holiday now, but those who celebrate it aren't just Christians. Yet with Rosh Hashanah it's Jews, even if they don't believe in G-d. Which to me makes absolutely no sense. 

I have wondered at times if Fig could be considered a Jew since he's celebrated Christmas and what not. In fact I have told Fig that he's not a Jew, even if the State of Israel would allow him citizenship (regardless of whether or not he has it or not). As far as I'm concerned with Christmas and Christianity, I won't even go into a church. Even if a family member was getting married there or actually more depressing a close friend wants me to attend a wedding and it's not Jewish.

What would I do? 

I wouldn't go. 

I have to give these things up. Not because I am obligated to, but because the desire to be a Jew requires such. But with someone who claims to be "born a Jew" they could basically do whatever they want (at least here in America), and still fall back on blood, which something some of them don't even recognize to begin with, as some basically say they don't believe in G-d. Who the fuck made the Jews? They wouldn't even exist without that foundation, not as Jews and not as a society with its present and past values.

Humility

I was told today, by an older Jewish man, who was my host for a Rosh Hashanah luncheon (the second of three - one on Wednesday night with the Silverdrivers, one today with the Tailors, and one tomorrow with Cabletons*- hosted meals), well anyway he says something like, "It's always interesting to me that converted Jews are more observant, if not more than those who are born into it."

*Ladies and gentlemen: the story you just read is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Before the end of service today, I bowed symbolically to acknowledge to G-d I am totally responsible for my own sins and goodness. Some people got on the ground to prostrate themselves to a higher degree. I'm not a Jew, but I did get my neck low enough so it could have been severed with ease.

Is it really harder knowing people feel that way? No, it's not. What's harder is the other stuff.

I wonder everyday as I go to services (although not everyday), when I read the Torah, pray, and when reflect on my life, how much I have to give up. I'm wondering if I'm giving up too much, or not at all. Maybe I'm losing so much more than just Christmas and my, most of the time, loathsome extended family on my mother's side. I do wonder. There must be no sense of entitlement.

Not a good idea.

Dapl called me the other night and he expressed how depressed he was about life. This time it did not seem like a cry for help, but rather just acknowledgement that life genuinely does suck and that he can't deal with it anymore. I thought of Budd Dwyer immediately. It didn't turn out well for Dwyer. I thought about Dapl moving to Montana, if he even gets there, since he's having trouble getting himself there with his stuff. I have a feeling he's either going to get through this, although it's going to grey his hair a little bit more, or he's going to kill himself over the stress. I'm serious. 

I wonder what Fig's take would be, as I know what Fozzjnen's take would be, "Wakka-wakka."

Do you wonder how we came to be here? 

Do you wonder if we could find us from here? 

Look inside. Do you feel anything but bitter? 

Anything but sad and lost? -GN

Sometimes I do. 

Sometimes I do.

Sometimes I do feel like making the decision to be with G-d,
makes me lose things that I will never have ever again.

2011年5月29日 It's hard

There is too much to explain from last night, when I have much going on today as well!

"And she said, 'I'm a Jew, but...' Like, 'I'm a Jew, but I don't believe in God.' So please take the time to think about that with yourself, even if you're not a Jew." My host said to everyone at the table.

Huh, well now I don't have an appetite for apples and honey now. No matter how sweet this new year could be. I'd much rather think about your question.


Will continue later...