Spewings of a Sophist

Grease Lightning!

2009-06-25T20:45:00.003+01:00

It was inevitable, I guess.
Britain never has two weeks worth of hot weather without a day or two of thunderstorm. It's the trademark homebred geological bitchslap of this country.
Today is that day, and I'm bored.
This is the summer holidays for me. The scene the media paints of this seasonal time is the kid sitting in school waiting for the clock to strike 3 so he can be free of lessons for a whole six weeks! Gee golly, Batman! 6 weeks!
Sunshine and ice cream and freshly cut grass.
Football and picnics and playful dogs.

Yeah, reality check.

The scene in Britain is usually humid clouds, littered pavement, graffiti.
Basketball courts are puddles. No balls, no picnics, no life.
Welcome to my life!
I was always the kid trudging behind everyone else that day when school broke. I didn't want to leave. Most kids seem look forward to their 6 weeks of freedom and vacation. Maybe they just want to be cool and pay homage to the social image that's expected of them. Maybe they genuinely enjoy it. Not me.
Summer holidays to me consist of a holiday I never wanted to go on, isolation from friends and a complete lack of things to do.
This explains why in my time at university I rarely touched the Playstation 2 except when no one was around.
This explains why my comeback to YouTube coincides with my return home for the holidays.
This explains why I'm writing this now.

The ironic thing is, it's during these times I actually get most of my work done. During term time I play first, write later. So long as I turn in a script on deadline day I'm happy.
During holiday time I work first, play later. Play prospect are limited, and I use the peace to read, write, work out, make videos.
In theory, at least.
What really happens is I say I'll do all those things and just end up being a bum the entire time, throwing in a little bit of work to keep myself feeling accomplished. It doesn't work, but the sentiment is there.

The easiest person in the world to fool is yourself, and I can't even do that.

Pessimistic Optimism

2009-03-29T21:15:00.001+01:00

I am not an optimist.
If I ever was, I haven’t been for a very long time. To tell you the truth, I don’t want to be.
To me, optimism is superfluous, naïve, depressing, and above all, pessimistic.
If you’re an optimist, chances are you wont understand where I’m coming from one neuron iota.
A lot of it comes down to one very simple difference. I see a beauty in the fucked up shit around me. You don’t. You see it as a disease that is not worthy of your acknowledgement and/or should be eradicated.
You see it as getting in the way of the ‘nice and beautiful’ things in life.
I see it as the nice and beautiful thing in life.
And you say I’m the cynic.
If you think I’m wrong, let me ask you something. What’s false about it? You may disagree, but that’s a different matter. If beauty is subjective, and someone sincerely makes that claim, what’s false about it?
You see, I may disagree with you, but I see your view as just as valid, just as ‘true’ as my own. It’s you who claim the monopoly on beauty, you who claim the standard, you who ridicule all opposing ideas. I think that’s supercilious.
When I think about why I find everything that repulses you beautiful I can feel an underlying justification beneath it all, but it’s one I cannot quite articulate. In many ways, I suppose the reason I find it beautiful is precisely because it repulses you. But that’s not the whole reason. I don’t need you to be repulsed to find grace in grotesque. There is something in itself which appeals to me, probably the same thing that disturbs you.
Now I’m not sick like you think I am. I don’t enjoy suffering. A friend crying upsets me as much as it upsets you. That’s not what I want. What I want is for you to relish in the world. These things you see as imperfections are part of the world that I love. This side of humanity that scares you is part of what makes us who we are.
I want you to indulge in yourself and not deny who you are. The grotesque is just as much a part of you as the romantic. You may not accept it, you may not even be aware of it, but it is there. If you embrace them, you embrace beauty.
I know you’ll be telling yourself that’s not true. You’re good. It’s them that’s bad. But I contest that our intuitive psychology isn’t as accurate as we think. The Germans in the Second World War were normal people like you and me, and yet committed some of the most atrocious acts in history. If you think, put in that situation, you would not have done what they did I have to conclude that you are either deluded, arrogant, or one exceptional human being. I know I probably would have.
There is a dark side to you waiting for the right situation to come out. If you aren’t familiar with it yet then you don’t know yourself as well as you think you do.
The condition under which I hate optimism, romance and clichés is that they exist in a mindset which denies a fundamental part of itself. It ignores its dark side. It pretends it doesn’t exist.
If I see someone who revels in the grotesque buy their loved one a heart shaped box of chocolates it will bring a tear to my eye.
Equally, if I see someone who loves death, loves the idea that Satan trumps God in a dick duel, loves the idea of spiders crawling under your skin leave the room every time a romance song plays I shake my head in disappointment.
Embracing part of you and not the other is akin to existential castration. The sad part is, you do it to yourself.
The reason your repulsion is beautiful to me is because it’s the only acknowledgement I see from you of the dark side. The reason I revel in it so much is because I’m surrounded by naïve romantics. I enjoy being the balance, the reality check for existential eunuchs.
I don’t need to bathe in the ‘light’ side around you. I just need to wash my face once in a while to remind me that it’s there. I can do that in the privacy of my own head. You guys cover the expression beyond any needed or desired amount.
There is a world around us. A beautiful world full of love and death, full of candy coated sentiments and cold, cynical facts. I revel in it all. It disappoints me that you only see the beauty in one side of it.
And your bias leads you to colour your vision of yourself. The optimists see themselves as sacred. The pessimists are the crap of the world. I don’t think we’re important enough to be either.
This is what disappoints me the most. I love humanity, but it saddens me that we cannot accept our irrelevance. And yet in the paradox that is philosophy I love that very esoteric narcissism which leads us to think like this in the first place.
Someone really could take a syringe full of AIDS infected blood with an acid-tipped needle and inject it into your eyeballs while you’re awake.
You really could have that girl of your dreams and watch the sunset with her while you forget the world.
This is how I define my optimism.
This is how I define my pessimism.
Combine both of those, and that is how you define my love of humanity.

Murdering My Darlings

2009-02-25T21:43:00.004Z

This is a small extract from a piece I have been working on. The whole thing will probably be novel-esque size when it's done. Plot wise, this will seem fairly irrelevant. This is mainly to show you the elements of style, so I'm giving you one of, as Quiller-Couch called them, my 'darlings'.

I’m lying in my bed staring at the flaking blue walls.

I’m standing by my door inspecting the cluttered Bizarre magazines, bits of used paper and electrical wires that act as my floor.

I’m in my bed and standing by my door at the same time.

This is what lack of sleep does to a person.

I’ve barely slept in four days. I’m stressed because all my old friends are leaving me. They say they never spend time with me anymore. They say I’m not the person I once was. They say they’re only trying to save our friendship.

I tell them trying to guilt trip me is bullshit.

Louis is the only person I really feel comfortable around anymore. Last time I saw him I asked him if he liked me.

“Like is such a strong word,” he said.

This state I’m in now, I call it half sleep. Half sleep is when you know you’re awake, you know you’re lying in bed staring at the cracked paint on your wall, but at the same time you’re somewhere else, doing something completely different. You lie there but in your head there’s an apocalyptic firing of neurons. It’s like daydreaming, but it isn’t. It’s half sleep.

I’m lying in my bed.

I’m standing by my door.

Things keep moving in my room when I’m not looking. My bed is blocking the door, the head touching the panel of wood. That’s wrong. It’s culturally universal to have the head of the bed away from the door. It served to protect against marauders in ancient tribes.

I look at the books on my bookshelf. They’re wrong somehow.

Now my bed’s back where it usually is, against the far wall, but now it’s tipped on its side. The duvet is ruffled like a Minotaur was locked inside.

How did it get there?

My floor is covered with snakes slithering over the latest issues of New Scientist. They coil around my ankles and in between my toes. They won’t harm me.

I’m lying in my bed.

This is what lack of sleep does to a person.

I see a thigh protruding from the duvet covers. I can’t feel it.

Is it mine? It’s too far away to be mine.

Who else’s could it be?

Louis’?

Louis’ leg is brown. This one’s white.

How do you know that? Last time you saw it it was brown. That doesn’t mean it isn’t white now.

Fuck off.

I’m awake. I know I’m awake. I haven’t half slept in a while. I’ve been awake for hours. It feels like seconds, but half sleep is a distant memory.

I order myself out of bed and get dressed.

It’s 1p.m. I promised Louis I would meet him at Bella Italia at 2.

I confide in Louis about my episode of half sleep. He tells me I need to relax. I need alleviation. Society does. We need relief from our self-induced tension but won’t allow ourselves the means to achieve it. It’s time that changed. He had an idea last night. He calls it Plan Romeros. He knows I’ll enjoy it, but first I have to get thrown out of Bella’s asshole.

How, I ask him.

“Have enough people overhear you talking about niggards and witches and wait for them to mishear you.”

Bella shit us in 10 minutes.

I used to have so many friends.

The World Behind The Bookshelf

2008-08-25T17:39:00.004+01:00

I promised I would get this out to everybody about a week ago. I apologise for that. Unfortunately, time catches up on you like that. Plus, I never realised how hard it is to try and be funny in these posts. Witty has never really been my thing, so I suppose I shouldn't hold out until I find something fun to say or I'll never post on here again!

Anywho, people have been asking me about the books I'm reading over the summer. I guess me remark of spending over £150 on books caught peoples attention. What else could? I know we're all shallow materialists at heart. ;-)

Anyway, here's the list of the books I've been reading and am going to read soon, going in the order they're on my bookshelf:

The Gay Science - Nietzsche
The Chemistry of Death - Simon Beckett
Deadline - Simon Kernick
Bones To Ashes - Kathy Reichs
Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus - Ludwig Wittgenstein
Discourse on Method and The Meditations - Rene Descartes
The Divine Comedy - Dante Alighieri
The Aeneid - Virgil
The Language Instinct - Steven Pinker
How The Mind Works - Steven Pinker
The Interpretation Of Dreams - Sigmund Freud
The Lucifer Effect - Philip Zimbardo
Madness Explained - Richard P. Bentall
The Hero With A Thousand Faces - Joseph Campbell
Out - Natsuo Kirino
Grotesque - Natsuo Kirino
The Ancestors Tale - Richard Dawkins
The Prince - Niccolo Machiavelli
A Brief History Of Time - Stephen Hawking
The Histories - Herodotus
Hunting, Gathering & Video Games - Todd Allen Gates (This guy is on YouTube)
Kluge - Gary Marcus
The System of Nature - Paul Thierry D'Holbach
Philosophical Investigations - Ludwig Wittgenstein

That's it. Small list, I know. What can I say? I guess I'm too lazy to do any real reading over the summer. Hopefully that will interest some of you.

VenomFakeX?

2008-07-25T15:36:00.008+01:00

Well, I'm not one to say I told you so but...

No. Wait. Yes I am! I told you so!

The narcissist that is VenomFangX wasn't really worth the 8 minutes I dedicated my video towards in the first place, and he definitely isn't worth another video, so I'll direct you all here instead. I was going to leave my video to speak for itself, something I think it does pretty well. However, with about 100 people (and I'm not exaggerating) asking (or in some cases, demanding) me to say something on the issue, here goes...

VenomFangX posted his 'Goodbye' video on July 16th 2008. He made a return, posting his 'VenomFangX Forever' video on July 21st 2008. That's 5 days. 5 days which we all realised he was logging onto his account continuously. His return video contains countless clips of people saying his name (including my video). That must have taken a few days to make. He posted his new video within almost the exact amount of time you would have expected it would take him to make between his leaving and his return, which is pretty good evidence, in my view, that he started searching and saving videos as soon as he left. We know we have thousands of comments (historical documentation) that he was logging into his account continuously throughout this time, as well as conclusive video proof from a number of people. The editing job on that video must have taken forever to make. And on top of that the sheer variety of clips shows us all that he was clearly searching YouTube for clips of people talking about him, my guess is from the moment he posted that 'Goodbye' video.

If he legitimately wanted to leave he must have made his decision to return extremely quickly. Too quickly. Death threats are serious. At least, he deemed them serious enough to want to leave. You do not make the decision to come back that quickly if the perceived threat is that serious. You take time, make sure the decision is right, take a break to see what it's like so you can tell if it's really worth coming back. Then, and only then, do you come back. Something isn't right with his story.

The video is clearly the work of a narcissist. Ten minutes of everyone exclaiming you is a pretty big ego boost. It is EXTREMELY self-aggrandising. It tells him people are still interested, that people seem to care. That was what I hypothesised he left to gain. I think this only supports that. It also contains hints of the martyrdom hypothesis I put forward with the beginning quote. I'm thinking this adds some good credibility to what I said.

What's interesting is that the video was not made public when he first put it up. He waited a day or two before doing that. Why? Last minute doubts, perhaps? Trying to add credibility to his original story because he knew we would catch on if he posted it so soon? I think the latter, but his ego was really not in the state where it was willing to wait and see this through. I think he got impatient and 'snapped'. He'd made the video. It was up. The ego boost was there within his grasp and a narcissist just cannot resist that sickly sweet temptation for long. And that's especially true if you're of Shawn's calibre. I know the feeling, because I can talk from my own experience how powerful that feeling is, and Shawn is much more of a narcissist than I.

I first put my video forward as a sceptical hypothesis. But I made predictions: He would make this out to portray him as some sort of martyr; He would use the attention gained to boost his hurt ego; He would come back within a few months. Those three predictions have all come true, and probably more conclusively than I ever anticipated.

Is it honestly much of a jump to say he never really planned on leaving at all?

Analysing The Analyst

2008-07-22T22:59:00.004+01:00

I took a personality test today. One of those Jungian Typology tests. You know, the one's on MySpace. Normally, I don't put too much credence into personality tests. However, this one, for its somewhat vagueness, was pretty accurate. I thought I'd show you guys, and you can see what you think:

Analytical Thinker (AT)

The analytical thinker is a reserved, quiet person. He likes to get to the bottom of things - curiosity is one of his strongest motives. He wants to know what holds the world together deep down inside. He does not really need much more to be happy because he is a modest person. Many mathematicians, philosophers and scientists belong to this type. He loathes contradictions and illogicalness; with his sharp intellect, he quickly and comprehensively grasps patterns, principles and structures. He is particularly interested in the fundamental nature of things and theoretical findings; for him, it is not necessarily a question of translating these into practical acts or in sharing his considerations with others. The analytical thinker likes to work alone; his ability to concentrate is more marked than that of all other personality types. He is open for and interested in new information.

The analytical thinker has little interest in everyday concerns - he is always a little like an “absent-minded professor” whose home and workplace are chaotic and who only concerns himself with banalities such as bodily needs when it becomes absolutely unavoidable. The acknowledgement of his work by others does not play a great role for him; in general, he is quite independent of social relationships and very self-reliant. He therefore often gives others the impression that he is arrogant or snobby - especially because he does not hesitate to speak his mind with his often harsh (even if justified) criticism and his imperturbable self-confidence. Incompetent contemporaries do not have it easy with him. But whoever succeeds in winning his respect and interest has a witty and very intelligent person to talk to. A partner who amazes one with his excellent powers of observation and his very dry humour.

It takes some time before an analytical thinker makes friends, but then they are mostly friends for life. He only needs very few people around him. Their most important ability is to be a match for him and thus give him inspiration. Constant social obligations quickly get on his nerves; he needs a lot of time alone and often withdraws from others. His partner must respect this and understand that this is not due to the lack of affection. Once he has decided in favour of a person, the analytical thinker is a loyal and reliable partner. However, one cannot expect romance and effusive expressions of feelings from him and he will definitely forget his wedding anniversary. But he is always up to a night spent with stimulating discussions and a good glass of wine!

Let The Rain Fall

2008-07-13T22:55:00.005+01:00

I went to a baptism today.

I'm a godfather myself (from about 8 years ago), so I know what it's all about. What was interesting was when the priest said that the congregation asks God to bring the child up in the faith and lead them on the 'way of the Light'.

I kept thinking about my baptism, and what that meant for me.

Did God do everything He could do to bring me up in the faith?

It's an interesting question with interesting consequences. It certainly doesn't violate free will. I'm far from a gnostic. I don't need 'proof' of a deity and I've never asked for one. All I've ever wanted is justified reasons to take up that faith. So far I don't see any, and it's not as if I haven't been looking. God could show me all of these reasons and it would be up to me to uptake them or reject them. No violation of free will.

But He hasn't. It's now that I don't have a choice. There's only one justified option to me right now. Sure, other Christians can be justified in their belief, but I wouldn't be. I'd be deluding myself. Not only is that not what would be considered reasonable with the Christian defence of free will, but it's in complete contradiction to it.

I wonder. Did God do everything He could do to bring me up in the faith?

And what does that say about God?

Dropping The Dud Bomb

2008-07-09T23:47:00.001+01:00

Well, I gave my schoolbooks back yesterday. It involved going to bed at 4:30 and getting up voluntarily at 7a.m. to do so, but I did it. Now, apart from the arguable case of results day, I have officially left school. I'm not going to get nostalgic. I'm adamant that I'll view this as a progressive thing. I can leave everything about that place behind me, from the routine to every lonely infatuation I had, and start new. The only problem: I have the summer to get through first. What to do, what to do?

I have a nasty habit of locking myself up in my house all summer like a hermit. Maybe I'll do that this year. Maybe I wont. I do have over £150 worth of books to read, so maybe I should get started on that. I did have a plan to have a couple of get-togethers with some of my friends, and have a certain female friend stay for the night (no, not like that. I'm a good boy and give her the spare bedroom...unfortunately). Last time she stayed over we were up talking till 5am, and only went to bed when I pointed out to her that it was daylight outside and we had talked the night out, of all things. But my plans for that have been skewered, what with people's vacations and the crappy weather. Ah! The weather! It's summer, people, and we're getting perpetual rain!

What an anti-climatic, phatic topic, like dropping a nuclear bomb to find out it's a dud. But hell, I've never been one for riveting conversation.

I remember last year at this time there was a freaking heat wave. It was just way too hot. It was hard to even get down to the basketball courts without needing a drink. And to make matters worse, the mornings were ice cold aswell. How can you plan what to wear when you need to cover up in the mornings but strip down by lunchtime? Talk about weather vicissitudes. And for some reason I insisted on wearing jeans and t-shirt too. It was h-o-t. And the added stipulation that I had English classes every day made it even worse. Think about it, if you're the only boy in a class with a lot of good looking, hot girls in summer time talking about a predominantly sexual poetry anthology you're going to get just a little hot yourself. I'm telling you, that's what the fires of Hell must feel like. Man, the things I do for my education!

A New Beginning?

2008-07-08T19:09:00.006+01:00

Here we are! A few people have noticed that in my YouTube videos I tend to be very 'down to business' and serious, and you people never get to see the 'real' me (whatever that is). I guess you have a point. So, to appease all my witty and sexually attractive subscribers (yes, that's you), I created this baby. It'll contain my ramblings about YouTube topics, an iota of my personal life, and just any and everything I feel like getting out there. There should be a different side to me here. I won't feel any obligation to be serious or 'down to business', so maybe I can actually *entertain* you. I hope you enjoy.