(no subject)

[ajfish]

03.06.04 For a long time now, I have wanted to write a solid entry about who I am and why I do this. This will not be that entry. But, this entry will have pieces of that future masterpiece of self-absorbed mental masturbation. Fact: everyone should know this all ready, this proper noun by which the state recognizes me as an individual for purposes of coercing, taxing, monitoring, arresting, etcetera - My name: Andrew Jason Fish. The many variations on this basic theme by which you or others know me: Andy, Andrew, Daddy, Fish, Mr. Fish, andyfish, ajfish, Russell. Digression; a moment of pedantic pomposity, perhaps pedagogical in purpose: ¹: names, like all words, are just a summary of meanings, associated imagery, etc. As denoted, my name is "Manly Healer." Tell me, does it fit? Are your connotative associations with my name implied by this literal definition? I ask because one, I love to digress, and two, I wonder how deeply a name marks one. I also wonder if at some point, people go from proper noun to common noun. Where someone to say "Andy" to you, you think of an andy, be it me or someone else, and what an andy implies. Was Shakespeare correct, would I be the same by any other name? Sorry. Back to the name. My mother had hoped, for reasons that will remain forever unknown, that people would call me "AJ." The first time I was called "AJ" was when some passionless domain controller truncated me to create an object known as "ajfish." So, especially since she died, I have honored my mother's wishes and adopted "ajfish" as a standard username. It works and implies no attempt on my part to be clever and deep when coming up with a username. When ajfish is taken, I append 314, the first three digits of π, and there you have it. My body matters. Certainly, I accept that were you disembody my brain, keep it alive, perhaps even float the eyeballs on pads and put the ears on a post, I would still be the same person. I also reject that statement. The mind is a part of the body and inversely, the body part of the mind. In its capability and form, my body dictates a big part of what my mind thinks it is. So, I will tell you, I am tall. I like to think of my build as "athletic." I have thick, ropy muscles, not big but strong. I feel am not dog ugly, nor am I a "hunk". I'm somewhere in between. I have asthma. I guess I'm saying that what I am plays a part in who I am. In a rash of finger pointing, some have accused me of being brilliant, a good writer, funny, and even fun to be around. I'm careful not to believe this. I think that's just a front I put on to hide the real me: clueless, slow, struggling to communicate, and laughing to prevent crying. Sometimes, too often even, I apologize to my wife after making love to her. She says it's a big turnoff but I can't help it. On the other hand, sometimes I do believe that I am a warm and affable fellow, resplendent with strength of character and inner calm; strong, healthy, young, full of life. Mighty even, the eternal laughing mule walking and joking, believing there is nothing I can not do. I feel the joy of my strong heart beating and deep lungs, asthmatic as they may, full of mountain air. I yearn to cry out, "Oh, the joy" as I ride the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune", gleeful laughing, unmastered by them. I howl and I sing! I want to crush people with my mighty loving embrace. I am ripe with lust, deep aching for women gracious of curve, dripping with fertility and sin. You see the problem now, don't you? You see where I'm heading. I attended public schools. Concise, conclusive answers were important there. Great emphasis was placed on right *or* wrong, binary simplicity, it is or it isn't. Yes or no is not all bad, and in fact has great utility in making decisions, but to be drilled into this mode of thinking leaves one without the ability to accept one of the basic facts of life: "dualism." I wanted to say that I am a mass of contradictions, but I don't think I do contradict. I yes-no-maybe. In terms of rocker switches, I am that place somewhere between "off" and "on" but even less concrete than that. This makes life a very messy situation for me. At times, decisive action seems impossible. I mock everything, including my own beliefs. I see the error of my way as I revel in the perfection of my way. Oh I wish this were horseshit of the philosophical kind, but this is me. So here I am, laughing in despair as I try to break through this ugly cloud of detached cynicism. Here I am, earnest in my desire to believe absolutely yet knowing disbelief can not be suspended any more than temporarily. I think I've said enough for today. ¹: Use of alliteration in prose, from http://www.thefrazzlededge.com/Handbook/glossaryterms.html: ALLITERATION: The repetition in successive words of the same initial consonant sound or of any vowel sound is alliteration. Most often the sound in the first syllable is repeated: "The majestic, the magnificent Mississippi." Alliteration should be used only when the writer makes a strong emotional response to his subject; it is usually out of place in matter-of-fact exposition. But even in emotive writing alliteration must be used rarely and with extreme caution. Excessive alliteration is offensive. The effect of successful alliteration is beauty of sound and emphasis

This is the pseudo-intellectual version of dry intellectual humor, made even worse by noting it as a moment of humor lest you let it pass by. I die laughing. You may want to go back now