NOTHING IS WASTED.

"The greatest waste in the world is the difference between what we are and what we could become." 

Herbster, Ben

Nice one, Herbie.

An even bigger waste, in my view, is worrying TOO MUCH about something like this.

Material such as this- as inspiring as it may be, & as genuine in it's attempt to shock humans from their complacency- can actually cause more suicide than loneliness.

I have been at that brink- & this was the very obsession that put me there.

What I was, and what I could have been.

And the vast chasym between the two.

It almost put me in my grave.

Vonnegut said 'we are here to fart around; never let anyone tell you any different'.

This lets us off the hook- especially those of us who are such perfectionists, obsessively battling to overcompensate for God knows what shortcoming in the past...

To the point where we become paralysed.

I would aim for something in between Vonnegut, and the above quote.

My motto- what finally brought about my recovery- would be, rather...

'We are flawed creatures in an uncertain world, trying to survive with bugger all to go on. Simply do the very best you can, each moment of your life, & NEVER torture yourself over what might have been. This is a slow, painful death. As far as you might feel you have fallen short- you are still a beautiful beautiful creature, in a beautiful beautiful world, & provided you saw ONE SINGLE MOMENT of beauty...

provided you saw a sunset, a sunrise, an infant or a lovely animal -

AND YOU NOTICED IT IN THAT MOMENT IN ALL IT'S MAJESTY...

then your life will have been worthwhile'.

This saved my life, ultimately.

It's not much...but it worked.

& it is from my heart.

A heart that was strong enough to realise that, in the end, NOTHING IS WASTED.

If you simply did your best.

Troller Ball Part 6

The Internet, social networks like FB (is there another?) and Groups like the Boring Group can at times be not unlike the “House on Haunted Hill”. A strange virtual world run by some evil deviant mastermind, where a group of otherwise reasonably functioning human beings are gathered into a spooky house to be tortured for the duration…

The purpose is usually a spurious offer of an amount of money- which pales into insignificance once the task of sheer survival takes precedence.

And then…once the drama has run its course…we find ourselves stuck in a room we can leave at any time…but cannot. Like a Beckett play.

& shut off from the outside world, we can only comment on the reality in that house.

To whatever extent it is able to masquerade as ‘reality’.

More a simulacrum; until we realise it has more in common with reality than we might want to admit. Only it is a heightened reality- a world intensified by the collision of temperaments and mood, opinion and hyperbole, wherein our ‘friendships’ are tested under the conditions & in the comparative anonymity of the medium…

Where real selves emerge…neurosis come to the surface, latent anger and hatred brought to the boil…and we find ourselves under certain circumstances defriending & blocking people for offending our sensibilities and in our righteous indignation…

We commit a kind of ‘virtual murder’.

Where many of us we see no need to work the differences out to a better, more humane conclusion. We just bomb any offenders.

And we soon see that- for all intents and purposes…this world IS the real world.

And we can indeed be little Hitlers.

And when we see our potential in this virtual world…

Things all of a sudden DO matter.

How we act toward others does matter.

I have had to defriend & blocked for sleights to my sensibilities.

In the name of 'security'.

And yet, is it in fact a demonstration of my own Insecurity that I do it?

I actually think defriending and blocking someone who does not agree with you is an act of cowardice.  And to criticise others for doing what I myself do the height of hypocrisy.

And…in the only court in the land- nay the entire world- that matters…

The court of my own conscience…

I find myself guilty.

Faced with my own social shortcomings…

I seek to find out WHY I act this way with people…

And how I could learn to do better.

And this DOES matter.

Who I see in the mirror DOES matter.

How I wish to be remembered DOES matter- because these are REAL people here.

Just because they are online- & we have not seen them in the flesh- does NOT mean they are cartoon characters.

In the game of life, wherein our integrity, our common human decency  is tested…there is much at stake. Which is why such incidents where we fail miserably in our connection with others BURNS so much.

No matter who was at fault…a relationship that fails BURNS.

For is causes us to look at the other person…& when we have finished blaming them…

We must look inside the hardest place of all- our own heart, soul and conscience.

Such incidents show us who we are- who we really are…

How we behave under pressure…

And most importantly of all, what we take of this out into the real world.

Which brings up to the question- who are we online?

Who should we be?

Is who we are in the real world different to whom we are online?

Should it be?

Is there even a difference between online and real world?

I think we play merry hell with who we are.

The truth of who we are.

Should that be worked out prior to our entry?

Or may we figure that out as we go on?

Here- just as in the real world?

Which is why I engaged in this series of blogs in the first place.

To follow the burn of a group that did not want me.

A group that actively encourages us to play a role…

An affectation…

And perhaps it is that that caused the Boring Group offence.

I could NOT be a proper bore. 

The right kind of bore.

I was accused of wearing a mask; which was ironic, because I think closer to the truth, the problem was I was not wearing enough of a mask.

I was veering to close to the truth of my self exploration…

And it was too risky.

Harmful.

After all…is not the TRUTH the most Boring thing of all?

Or perhaps…NOT BORING enough in this particular case?

It is time to go into the minutae of what happened in the Boring Group, to lead up to my expulsion. 

Troller Ball Part 5

Please forgive the time it is taking to allow this series of blogs to unfold.

You see…I don’t write a series like a huge essay ahead of time, chop it up into bite sized instalments, & distribute it intermittently.

This feels a little disingenuous. Manipulative.

I promised this series in part was an exploration of self; and as such…there are some things known…& many more UNKNOWN.

Just like life.

So…even though I was certain of the starting point- sure of the kinds of issues I wanted to explore…the precise direction…and the things I have uncovered…have taken me in unexpected directions.

I assure you, I am not very much further along the path than you are.

And in line with this…I have no idea how many instalments this will take…

Nor do I know how it will end.

At least…not in my conscious mind.

My subconscious might have OTHER ideas…

Onward…& hopefully UPWARD. 

So...why???

Why does all this matter????

My persistence with the Boring Group...

Indeed my persistence with human beings at all???

I’m pretty creative; & in the last few weeks, I been fiddling with photos.

But I cannot stay away from people long.

I can explore myself ‘til the cows come home…

But eventually I just have to run myself up the old flagpole and see who salutes.

I NEED to rub up against people again…metaphorically speaking…lest I never get a chance to see what I have learned about the work of art that is I in my absence.

It’s a bit like making a film no one will see.

So…I came to a point where I had enough playing with my camera.

& returned to the bosom of human interaction.

Or as close as one can get to it on the Internet.

Back to the bosom of the blog.

Back to learning about people.

I usually only put ‘quill to parchment’ these days when there is something I feel strong enough to comment upon. Some conflict or other I want to address.

& as you know- I have a PASSION for psychology, and interpersonal relationships; especially where they go wrong. And they have been going awry lately.

Change of season? The Moon? The Sun? The Stars?

Who knows?

I have lost a couple of friends.

And it upset me.

I could not contain myself.

And I worried I might lose more.

Why would it matter?

I spend a lot of my time here not only interacting- but trying to come to grips with the NATURE of the interaction online- what is about it that distinguishes it from the outside world…

And why it affects us so profoundly.

What keeps us here?

Can we not log off and stay away?

Why not?

Why?

I think I summed it up best to a chum during this week, when I said;

“I will say this; I have learned more here than in any other walk of life. I reckon it's a godsend. Yeah. I met so many people...had so many opportunities...travelled so many places...since joining FB. Learned more about myself in 4 years than I did a lifetime.”

Which is possibly why I cannot leave it alone?

It fills a need in me.

How many times have you seen someone on the Internet have a meltdown because someone on the FB treated them with cruelty?

How many of you have said OF FOR FUCK’S SAKE…GET OFF?I know I have.

But I also know I have done the EXACT same thing.

And it matters.

I even write about the experience as if it matters.

So, why?

Because it fills a fundamental need.

As I said only last week here... 

I am always seeking- looking for a better way to be.

Examining the idiosyncrasies and duality of people's natures- including my own-and the way we interact.

Especially online.

i am always learning about myself.

i will never stop.

as long as i am satisfied i am working toward a BETTER me.

would it be preferable to live in a vacuum?

For reasons i will touch on in a second...i think not.

What i HAVE noticed, is this is a process; it seems to me it is a negotiation, between learning about people, learning how to get along with them in an environment in which it is difficult to read people- the real person.

How often do we show the real us?

How many of us KNOW who we are?

I don't claim to, but I am trying.

And it is crucial i do so in the company of others. I think this work COULD save the species.

'Self Indulgent'? Possibly.

But if i did not follow my heart, it would be a betrayal of my humanitarian inclinations.

I listen to people. I talk to them, and hear what they say back.

I try to take on their criticisms when they arise...without losing any of myself.

my own unique personality.

Or it might be something else. 

Is it as it sometimes seems- to ‘fart around’, as Kurt Vonnegut put it?

Possibly. But I would rather say it as I have said before; to learn about life, others, and myself.

Which is why I have a problem with Vonneguts’ quote…

& the boring group.

My problem with the boring group is...i think being boring is a waste. a waste of time, and resources.

waste of humanity.

why celebrate boredom?

(& don't tell me these people are saving the world in their real lives.

Any more than I am. Or they would not be here celebrating boredom.)

so, i decided to 'assert my view'. wrong or right.

However...was this...IS THIS the real reason?????


TBC

Troller Ball Part 4

So…am I really Troll?

To quote my dear friend Kat Morgan...

“Troll schmoll. It's a subjective word describing a subjective condition, isn't it?”

Ahh...Kat.

She has a facility for brevity I do not share, but heartily envy.

True. 'tis subjective.

Troll?

The kinder among you have called me a ‘seeker’.

A fine line indeed between Troll and seeker.

So I call myself a “Troller”.

'Troller' is as 'Troller' does…so the best way to comprehend him is to track his wily ways in a conTROLLed environment.

As you know, I stick my nose into “The Boring Group” from time to time.

It is no secret I have a bit of an issue with this Christian fundamentalist crypto-fascist organisation, mainly because of it's hypocrisy.

I hate hypocrisy, above all else.

Hate it out there- hate it in myself.

Which is why I seek it out whenever I am aware of it...

Lest it take hold in myself.

In other words...as long as I am aware of it generally...

I am on guard inside myself.

Might seem like a man who cannot fuck targeting sex outright...

If so...tough tit.

Some of you people- my loyal FB friends- are also ex members (I have never known a stayer in the group for reasons I will go into shortly), & have been kind enough to remember me.

Two even remember me being ignominious deleted from the muster of this elite collective my last tryst- before being thrown out themselves.

Both thoroughly decent people, might I also say. Proud to have them as friends.

So why do I go back there, every few months? If I know I’m going to be thrown out?

Is it not in direct contravention of Woody Allen quoting Groucho Marx quoting Freud when he says 'I would hate to belong to any club that would have me as a member' by so voraciously SEEKING OUT the membership of a club that WILL NOT?

Possibly.

Or maybe I simply need to know why.

Was I not BORING enough?

The Boring Group; to date, 200 members.

It claims to be an Open Group only for boring people, with boring things to talk about, and comment on other peoples boring coments, about being boring. the following rules must be followed; no capitol letters, no exclemation marks, no exciting words. this is not a group for happy people.

A group so boring, it has no patience even for basic rules of spelling or grammar.

I felt I ought to be a shoe in here.

I felt, being such a frightful bore, a not-so-closeted narcissit, an egomaniac of awe inspiring proportion, and a self indulgent ham wannabe...

I fit the bill beautifully.

And was ejected for my attempts at Boring-ness.

Why?

Was I TOO Boring?

Is this not a GOOD thing, in a Boring Group?

Was I not Boring enough?

Would there not be room to move to greater heights of tedium?

Is aspiration, motivation toward moving up the ladder to the top shelf of Boredom in itself too close to excitement? 

But then...is ambition itself not the height of Boring?

What was I ejected for?

And why was I given no reason?

Ignominiously dumped...with no warning, nor explanation.

How Boring it that?

Why am I removed…when all I am doing is going back time and again, to better refine my facility for being Boring.

Is my obsession not boring?

& even more importantly...why does it matter so much?

Why do I grind this axe with such determination?

Why, then, oh why??

I have some thoughts on this, which has in helped me keep the dreaded Troll of Hypocrisy at bay...

TBC

Troller Ball Part 3

For Melanie...

Human tendencies are often destructive.

Vonnegut said ‘human kind is running out of time. My guess is that we will not disarm, even though we should, and that we really will blow everything up by and by.’

He further suggested that perhaps we were put here for that purpose- to wipe every hint of life from the face of the planet- when he said;

"It may be that we were put here on Earth to blow the place to smithereens. We may be Nature's way of creating new galaxies. We may be programmed to improve and improve our weapons, and to believe that death is better than dishonor. And then, one day, as disarmament rallies are being held all over the planet, ka-blooey! A new Milky Way is born. Perhaps we should be adoring instead of loathing our hydrogen bombs. They could be the eggs for new galaxies."

Vonnegut was also a noted manic depressive.

Or perhaps even a famous Troll.

For this pessimistic, defeatist stance might be less a sign of mental illness, & more a sign of the Troll at work in our psyches to prepare us for our inexorable doom- our black manifest destiny.

“The human race is doomed.

Why fight it?”

When Christians speak of the devil…

Donald Duck’s 'evil' self…



We speak of the Troll.

Like the trickster- he is an amusing, puckish little character at times.

And that- of course- is part of the creature’s devious design.

He appeals to…something in our nature.

But his intent is sinister.

Like Gollum, looking for his precious…

He seeks to disrupt.

Even kill.

Spirits.

Feelings.

Possibilities of meaningful interaction with other people.

The Troll is the one who whispers in my ear that trying to relate to other human beings is folly.It is better to fuck with them.

As Goethe expressed in ‘Hypochonder’;

“The devil take the human race!

Enough to drive you crazy!

Time and again I swear to God

I’m finished! Through! With people.”

Who at one time or another- possibly even constantly- has not felt this very same way about other human beings?

Who amongst us cannot understand this frustration??

And yet, is the frustration not with US as much as them?

Are we not all connected?

Is the‘WE’ not INSEPARABLE from ‘they’?

Is destruction as a means of assuaging our frustration with people/self what we really want?

Not what I want.

If we are doomed- I want to be the one fighting for a future for your children.

The cultish poetic allure of self-destruction is just TOO self-indulgent- even for me.

Which is why I seek- over the next few blogs- to show how I drew him out; he who seeks to destroy others…and in the process…me.

Just as it is important to acknowledge our inner Nazi- we would also do well to come to terms with our Inner Troll- in order to rectify his toxic tendencies.

For how can we hope to fix our planet, if we do acknowledge and fix the deleterious aspects of our own character?

This is what I decided to do last week.

Hopefully to understand him a little better, the subtle ways in which he can draw me toward destructive tendencies on the Internet…and in the outside world…

& what can be done to exorcise him/them.

& who knows; you might find you share a similar inclination.

First task…to understand him.

Infant Isle

I think it is fairly obvious I have a pronounced light and dark side. 

There are times I am flip and gay- other times dark and brooding. 

I have never made a secret of my duality. 

I have always had it.  It is not new.

I remember as a young man, I performed at a school concert, wherein I delivered my first comedy monologue- & then rendered a heart felt version of Eric Clapton's 'Wonderful Tonight'. 

The coalescence of these polar opposites jarred some audience members...

& yet they made perfect sense to me. 

Even today- I fail to see how this dichotomy can be problematic- even in the face of those who have sought to have me committed for it. 

Schizophrenia?  I have not been diagnosed as such. 

Might just be who I am. 

And any anxiety I might manifest in wrestling with my nature might come from the futility of my attempt to reconcile these opposites- here and in the real world- when in reality, perhaps I ought not fight them- but celebrate them.

However, on this occasion, I will make special note of the duality in my nature to herald the acknowledgement of the serious nature of the following post.

This is indeed serious, Mum.

This short piece is dedicated to those who have lost an infant.

My heart goes out to you today.

A memory popped into my mind this morning- unwelcome as death in the family- from my distance past; some memories have scant regard for subtlety, or etiquette.

I was reminded of something I thought dead and buried, from my time as a Police Officer. 

I remembered the occasion I was called to attend a report of a death. 

My partner and I greeted the ambulance officer outside, shaking his head, 'no'.

We met a distraught couple at the front door of their house.

We were ushered into their bedroom, to find a baby in the bed, wrapped in a blanket.

Dead.

The parents had apparently gone one toke over the line- left the child in a sleeping blanket on high...

and the infant had cooked to death. 

I am not going to dwell on the whys and wherefores.

But I will say...I never quite got over this.

I can only speculate why a dead infant is sadder than any other death.

But for me...I think it might have something to do with another soul who never got a chance.

Perhaps I connect with the notion of something that has died in childhood.

Lost hope, lost opportunity.

A symphony lost.

A cure for cancer never authorised.

This might have been the one person to save the world.

Gone.

Snuffed from existence by parents who sought oblivion for themselves.

bequeathed to their dead child.

legacy extinguished.

Over.  And out.

Today- all day- I think of the parents who have lost a child.

This is something one never quite gets over.

This child was not my child.

And yet- it haunts my memory as if it were.

I feel responsible; as if it were somehow a failing in me.

Now...this will never make up for my failings- whatever they might be- but today...

AND ALL DAY...

I will be thinking of all the parents who have lost a child.

My heart goes out to you.

The omnipotent being of your choice bless you and keep you...

xo JWA

    

Troller Ball Part 2.

OK. So we established I’m pretty sure I have Trollish tendencies.

But a Troll is no big fat scary deal.

Just as a 'Homosexual' is not automatically a 'Paedophile'- a 'Troll' is not automatically, say a 'Hacker'.

The fear driven inference is all.

He’s not so scary at all, when you look at him up close.

I kinda’ like my Troll.

You just have to get to know him- rather than sit in a huddle like terrified villagers, too scared to take him on to get to other lands for fear of getting’ ate.

And the best way to know him- is to understand the extent to which his tendencies are merely a magnified version of our own darker inclinations.

‘He’ is ‘we’.

Not ‘that Troll’ over there’- not separate. (Ie: ‘not ‘that Nazi over there’.)

For, if I understand him correctly the Troll is related (distant or otherwise dependant on your understanding of him) to our inner ‘Nazi’- who I have blogged about in the past.

http://evolvingsoulsclub.blogspot.com.au/2012/05/little-nazi.html 

‘Nazi’ as ARCHETYPE, that is – the mythos rather than the reality- applying to someone who exerts fascistic, controlling, right wing tendencies over another.

‘You took my parking space, you Nazi’.

‘No soup for you!!’

Can be funny.  Because we all know him- & have been him.

The Troll- like our Nazi- is an archetypal personification of our mischievous nature.

But is a Troll really as bad???

Back to the definition briefly.  someone who posts inflammatory, extraneous, or off-topic messages in an online community, such as an online discussion forum, chat room, or blog, with the primary intent of provoking readers into an emotional response or of otherwise disrupting normal on-topic discussion.

Is this really such a bad thing?

Even in its worst case manifestation- where the Troll is said to be "a person who defaces Internet tribute sites with the aim of causing grief to families."

Does this not say more about inadequate security than the Troll?

Case in point; let’s says there is a Michael Jackson Tribute Site.

Let’s say, I decide to leave a comment expressing my outrage at all the adulation showered upon a child molester who can sing.

Am I a Troll?  Maybe.

Am I wrong?  Arguable.

Would it matter if he was not famous?

If I left such a message on a tribute site for a rape victim saying something like, ‘oh, the way she was dressed she was asking for it’…

Sure, it would be rude and inappropriate…

      
But wrong?

Illegal?

Would it matter how many times I left the comment?

Surely I would be blocked?

And what about stalking?

Is ‘Stalking’ and ‘Trolling’ the same thing?

At law, no; stalking is an offence.

‘Trolling is not an offence’.

The distinction is probably best argued by smarter heads than mine.

And I am not a stalker.  Had I been…I would know about it.

It is pathological, and unlike the Troll…seldom stays hidden for long.   

I never stalk.

Once I am dumped, dropped, de-friended or blocked…

That is the end of it.

For me, rejection is my natural state of being from childhood.

Why would I resist an affirmation of what I know to be where I belong?

So I have never stalked.

But I am pretty sure I have trolled.

I think many more of us have than are prepared to admit.

The more actualised amongst us might acknowledge him, & have found a way to live with him.  Others live in denial.

Some suggest that being a Troll might be a personality disorder. 

Anyone here longer than a few days knows that people with personality disorders on the net are rife. As I have said in the past- being human may arguably be a personality disorder, given the way we are destroying ourselves.

So why is ‘Trolling’ any more heinous than what seems to be a fundamental pathological toxic human obsession?

Is it not Trollish to deny this reality that sits like a turd in our bath-tub?