Category: Current Events (page 14 of 91)

From the Vault: Stubborn Stinkbrain

I’m working on overcoming a severe bout of depression. Thank you for being patient. While I keep making steps forward, I continue putting effort into being less of a “selfish diaper-baby” as Ralph would put it. And with a bunch of new Enforcers joining the fold, I have to remind myself that quitting what I love is not the answer to anything. So it’s time this post came back.


Courtesy Disney

I used to be really, really good at quitting.

I can think of several instances in my past where I would be attempting something, run into the first real obstacle, and just give up. I would avoid putting myself in positions where I would have to deal with any major difficulties or consequences. I hate to admit it, but I was something of a coward. While I still remain afraid of screwing up, letting people down, or hurting the feelings of those I care about, I’ve learned that giving up before all alternatives are exhausted yields only more doubt, disappointment, and is generally less favorable than making legitimate efforts.

It feels a bit odd for me to talk about hardships and difficulties when I’m a white cis male in the first world, which is about as privileged as you can get. I’m not really wanting for food, shelter, clothing, or any of the essentials a human being needs. It should be an easy life for me. I’m choosing to make it more difficult by involving myself in the things I choose to be involved in, and in that I am engineering my own defeats. And yet, I know if I simply enjoy my privileges and do not take steps to share what I can with the world around me, I am no better than a day-trader on Wall Street or a corrupt corporate executive. So I try to make the world a better place, and sometimes, the world seems determined to remain terrible.

Case in point: I’ve made the choice to be an Enforcer, part of the PAX volunteer staff, and by extension, I am tangentially connected to Penny Arcade and its creators. Mike (“Gabe”) has a habit of putting his foot in his mouth when it comes to sensitive issues, and this was the case yesterday. He made a comment that was offensive to the transgender community, and the resulting exchange has caused people to call for PAX boycotts and, if I understand the situation correctly, several of my fellow Enforcers have quit in a show of solidarity with those offended by Mike’s comment. They more than likely see Mike’s apology and exchange with Sophie Prell as half-hearted or perfunctory or some other word for insincere.

I for one am willing to give Mike the benefit of the doubt. As I see it, the possibilities are that he makes comments that he thinks are funny and only occasionally gets it right; he puts his foot in his mouth more often than not by tweeting before he thinks; or he’s a deplorable human being through and through. What I have seen and heard of the man leads me to believe that the first two cases are the most likely. Considering his brand is one that is mostly comedic, the first is the logical conclusion for me to draw. Penny Arcade has done a lot for the gaming community, children’s charities, and a more inclusive Internet in general; why would I want to disassociate from that?

Don’t get me wrong. Anybody who feels strongly enough to quit or boycott has my understanding. Not everybody is wired the way I am. And, to be frank, I could be wired completely wrong. I’m willing to consider and even accept that, if presented with sufficient evidence.

But I refuse, to the core of my being, to quit now. Not when I can try to change things for the better.

I know that I can’t change people who don’t want to change. And I know that my words and actions may have zero effect on the people or world around me in general. I accept that. What I will not accept is the idea that I cannot change anything at all on an individual level. I don’t want to muck around with people’s brains to make them what I would consider “better” – each individual is entitled to be and think and feel however they want to be and think and feel. I have no claim to change things within another person’s being by force. That isn’t right.

All I can do, all I want to do, is be the best human individual I can be, engage as often as possible in what I consider to be better behavior, exemplify compassion and understanding for my fellow human beings, and do what I can, small as it may be, to make the world around me a better place. Every person deserves to be treated with respect, and the best way for me to get that idea into the heads of others is to be as respectful as I can with everyone around me, especially strangers. As an Enforcer, I meet thousands of strangers. This, to me, is an excellent way to ensure that I am doing as much as possible to be the change I want to see in the world. I may affect even more if I can get more writing off the ground; time will tell on that score.

But I’m not going to quit either, I’m not going to quit giving people the benefit of the doubt, I’m not going to quit being me, even if I can be overly optimistic and occasionally gullible and something of a stubborn, tactless, somewhat arrogant stinkbrain from time to time.

This is who I am. This is who I choose to be.

Take it or leave it.

500 Words on Porpoising

Courtesy the Telegraph

I’ve had the privilege of seeing porpoises in motion on whale watches, keeping pace with little tour boats as they make their way into the deeper waters. It’s a fascinating sight, seeing sleek gray bodies appear and then disappear beneath rapid waves. They whistle and cackle to one another as they go. It’s fun for them. It’s fun to watch.

It’s not so much fun when it’s your emotions or mood doing the same thing.

The chemicals in the brain of a victim of bipolar disorder are in flux, on a nearly constant basis. Sometimes, in spite of things like medication and cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), the moods of the victim will fluctuate with rapidity, ranging from ‘okay’ down into depression and then up into hypomania with little to no warning, then back down again. This can repeat itself several times, at irregular intervals and with varying degrees of intensity, for hours or even days.

In bipolar circles, it is referred to as “rapid cycling”. I call it “porpoising”. And it makes being productive, positive, or even functional very, very difficult.

I’ve said on multiple occasions that I don’t like going into detail about my internal struggles or mental health issues in this particular blogging space. At the same time, I know this is a venue from which some people get updates and entertainment, so a lengthy silence bears some explanation. I’d much rather be honest about the situation than just pop back in like nothing happened. It prevents ambiguity and confusion.

I’ve been working more on my honesty of late, anyway. Omitting key facts from a discussion for fear of hurting feelings or making interactions awkward only makes things worse. Regardless of motivation, fact-omission is, in truth, a lie. And I do not like, condone, or accept lies. I mean, as a novelist and a storyteller, I do lie in that I write about things that never happen involving people who don’t exist, but that is different from hiding the truth about a situation or being in denial about my feelings.

And my feelings have been all over the place. My days are lacking in structure and my bank accounts are in a constant state of near depletion, whine whine etc. It’s difficult to maintain focus without structure or stability, and that difficulty increases when a mood swings or a fear manifests or an old wound gushes.

I’m looking ahead, though. Next week is a new week. Steady posts, streams, and plans will be hammered out and adhered to as well as I can. I hope to hear good news about some form of income which will help with the porpoising. The best you can do when something like this happens is learn what you can and put it behind you.

Thanks, everyone, for reading. I encourage you to check out my fiction, my streaming, and my other projects. I hope to have a Patreon up soon, if I can focus it right.

Don’t forget to be awesome today.

Becoming A Master Builder

Courtesy Warner Bros. Pictures

I may not be a Master Builder. I may not have a lot of experience fighting or leading or coming up with plans. Or having ideas in general. In fact, I’m not all that smart. And I’m not what you’d call the creative type. Plus, generally unskilled. Also scared and cowardly. I know what you’re thinking: “He is the least qualified person in the world to lead us!” And you are right.

I can’t be the only one who relates very well to Emmet’s speech.

For the whole maybe half-dozen of you who haven’t seen it, in The LEGO Movie, the protagonist LEGO Minifig, a construction worker named Emmet, literally falls smack into one of those prototypical genre-crossing movie plots. There’s a thing that the antagonist is going to use for something nefarious, the protagonist has another thing that can stop the first thing, and the plot revolves around getting his thing onto the other thing (phrasing). There’s even a prophecy, a rhyming one at that, which tells of the destined hero saving the day by being skilled, imaginative, brave, powerful, smart, and I think there’s something in there about them smelling good, too.

The twist is this: Emmet is none of those things.

He freely admits this, in a speech given to a room full of ‘Master Builders’, franchise characters in Minifig forms who can change whatever they want about the world around them. Their only limits are their imaginations. Emmet, on the other hand, is a stickler for instructions. He’s a construction worker; he follows blueprints. When there is no blueprint, he gets lost. And while he may be friendly and a bit of a goofball, his relative incompetence becomes a pretty major hindrance when he stumbles upon the thing from the prophecy.

A protagonist in a story like this tends to be described as an “everyman”, a perfectly average and decidedly unremarkable individual to whom extraordinary things happen. We are meant to relate to this character, to place ourselves comfortably in their shoes. Emmet does this well by owning up to truths some of us avoid facing: we’re not perfect. We’re failures. I for one have lost count of the times I’ve come up short when facing various situations or challenges. Despite living in mortal quaking fear of letting down the people I care about, I have done just that, on more than one occasion. How can I be a master of anything if I can’t even be a decent programmer, or a consistent writer, or a reliable and honest friend? There’s no reason the wonderful people I love should give me the time of day, considering how spectacularly I can fuck things up. I can’t deny the truth: I’m going to screw up. I’m going to disappoint. I’m going to fail.

Swamp Creature: Is this supposed to make us feel better?!
Emmet: There was about to be a but…
Gandalf: You’re a butt!

Courtesy Warner Bros. Pictures
“Well, you were right about him being a ding-dong.”

But I’m going to try not to fail anyway.

The hidden strength and power in Emmet, and The LEGO Movie in particular, has nothing to do with prophecies (Vitruvius made it up, anyway) or special magical items (actual mundane things given hilarious verbal spins) or astonishing powers (although I do wish I could put spaceships together as fast as Benny does). It’s sheer willpower. It’s determination. It’s stubborn, downright thick-headed devotion to simply doing the best he can with what he’s got. Sure, Emmet gets scared. He messes things up. He gets played for a sucker and lets people down.

That doesn’t stop him from doing everything he can to make things right.

That’s what makes a Master Builder. That’s what makes a person more than the sum of their failures. We cheer for Emmet because, in a way, it’s cheering for ourselves. When good writers give us good protagonists, they don’t give us perfect paragons of virtue or strength or power. They give us people. And people are flawed, thoroughly and terribly and irrevocably and beautifully flawed. I’m flawed. You’re flawed. All of us are flawed. But our flaws are not just negative attributes to be ticked off as grounds for denial on some worthiness test. Our flaws give us strength. Our flaws allow us opportunities to overcome them. Our flaws make us better people, in whatever pursuit we follow in our lives.

Emmet has no special training, no inborn power, no secret item that allows him to overcome his flaws. He just commits himself to being better than he was. He makes plenty of mistakes, and bad things happen, but that doesn’t curtail his motivation. He carries on the best way he knows how, and in the end, he doesn’t need a prophecy to prove to himself, to his friends, and to us that anybody, no matter how ordinary or average or unskilled or cowardly or butt-like they might be, can do the same.

I may not be all that smart. I may have trouble with motivation and focus. I may admonish myself to a worrying degree. I will continue to fear the disappointment and anger of the people I love. And I may find myself wondering if the wounds I have suffered, and more importantly, those I have inflicted on others, will ever truly heal.

But I cannot and will not allow those things to prevent me from getting up, dusting myself off, and doing my utmost not to fail. To make amends. To create new worlds. To rebuild bridges even in the wake of fires. To bring people to life. To be, in the context of all of the above, a Master Builder.

And if I can do it, what’s stopping you from doing the same?

500 Words on Recovery

Tunnel Light

I haven’t had a week like this one in quite a long time.

I mean that in both good terms and in bad ones. Over the last few weeks, my life has been in a state of relative upheaval. I’ve had a lot of struggles, mostly internal ones, and I’ve pulled back from the things and people I love to get things sorted out. I’m coming out of the tunnel, now, and I’m very relieved to see that the light I was struggling towards isn’t an oncoming semi.

So what’s been sorted? And what’s next?

My work and living situations have been in flux, but have taken on more stability, especially in the past week. True, it’s not in the form of a solid, routine, commuting, 9-to-5 sort of stability at the moment, but honestly, with the way my living situation has changed, that might be for the best. Redoubling my efforts to do more remote freelancing to support my writing feels more true to my nature than hunting down the elusive corporate gig that really plays to my strengths and lets me feel like more than a cog in a capitalist machine.

This all boils down to the internal struggles I’ve been having on a personal level. As much as I would like to think that I am an intelligent primate with a well-ordered and focused mind, the truth is that things can and often are a lot more chaotic than I’d like to admit. Especially when my mood swings in ways that are barely under my control, if at all, or my subconscious mind latches onto an emotion or concept that runs counter to what I consciously know is counter-productive, my mental landscape goes through changes in weather rather than remaining calm and placid. Hell, there have been earthquakes in there lately.

Recovering from rough periods like this one is never easy. I’ve taken some time in relative isolation to get things under control before they became even more problematic for everyone involved. And I need to make this clear: nobody outside of my own head has done anything objectively wrong. I’m very thankful for everyone who’s chosen to stay in my life, even if communication has been disrupted. Those disruptions don’t last forever, though.

Sometimes, all you can do is fight for your own mind as hard as you can, and pray that those who’ve stood with you are still standing when the smoke clears.

I trust my friends, my closest ones, more than I do my own brain sometimes. They wouldn’t be so willing to work with me, even in waiting, if they did not feel I was trustworthy in return. Now more than ever, I’ll do my utmost to vindicate that trust. I’ll take the time necessary to do right by the people I care about, and who care about me. I will do the things that make me come alive.

I have a responsibility to the people I love. I won’t ever forget that.

The Dryest Spell

Dunes of the Namib Desert, taken by Simon Collins

I can’t think of a time when I’ve had a longer dry spell in terms of writing. I’m not quite at the shaking-hands staring-eyes push-food-towards-me-with-a-stick-lest-I-bite-your-fingers-off phase of writing withdrawal… but I think I’ve approached it. And, thankfully, I’m taking steps to get myself out of it.

They’re slow, much slower than I’d like, but they’re happening. Case in point: this blog post! I certainly have a great deal to talk about, outside of the choking miasma that occasionally drifts through my headspace, and I need to get back in the habit of making words, my words, happen every day. And while I correspond with friends and write out internal experiences and sort out feelings, that isn’t the same as informing the world, shedding light on Truth, or telling the stories that need telling.

My goal, in all of the things I do and every choice I make, is to reduce cruelty in the world while increasing love. I’ve made some blunders along the way, had impulses and emotions blindside my conscious mind, and even come close to breaking down on an occasion or two. But I still haven’t given up. I’m still committed to doing everything I can for the people I care about. And I’m working just as hard as I ever have to get out of my rut and take the path less traveled, the one walked by troubadours and truth-tellers, the one paved in paperback covers of those who inspire me to join their ranks.

Deserts are vast. They are unforgiving. They are punishing, desolate, silent, and lonely places.

But they are not the entirety of the world. Nor do they last forever.

And I am finally, finally, coming to the end of this one.

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