Two Hundred Channels aren't Enough
Damn 'Optimum Cable'...This shit sucks. Why can't we get Comcast like civilised human beings ? I blame New Brunswick; somehow, it's the Bruns' fault.
Steve got a myspace. Slowly but surely I've lost everyone to its lure. He's convinced that somehow it'll help him musically; I'm convinced that he'll get a bunch of add requests from cam-bots. Oh well. He does what he wants, that Steve.
I've felt kind of cold since we were driving around last night in South Jersey...We had just gone to Philly for no other reason than to consume the day, and Steve had taken a wrong turn on the way home. We ended up on a desolate highway lined with only strip clubs, bars, and McDonald's play places. (Maybe dad drops the kids off at the 'Playplace' while he gets a lap dance? I'm not sure about the grand scheme there...)
It was so lonely, and Robert Smith was burning like Fire in Cairo... and Steve was mad at me again. He always gets mad at me because I have a special habit of pushing people to the point where they get really pissed off for no other reason than the cliche 'I felt like doing it,' rationalisation. I know that I'm impulsive beyond the point of sanity, but I don't care...It seems I'm also apathetic beyond the point of sanity.
Ah, that reminds me of the hundreds of times Steve has tried to fight with me about apathy being an 'emotion', and the foundation of his argument is
If you choose not to decide
You still have made a choice
He doesn't sing it, but it still annoys me that he's trying to discredit me with Rush lyrics !! I differ very much from Steve in that he gets most of his opinions and life-outlook from reading hundreds of books, whereas I got all of mine from solitary self-reflection. I suppose that essentially I don't care what someone else thinks about the nature of life. The fact that he/she was published or has millions of admirers doesn't validate one's philosophy for me; I can't buy into something so subjective and personal. Call it egoism if you want, but I feel the act of writing itself is an act of immense egoism. It makes a strong statement that what you think/feel matters.
Therefore, Geddy Lee's accomplishment of making it to the classic rock station doesn't move me to buy into his worldview.
Why can't Steve understand that ? I think he can, but he thinks it's stupid and stubborn. I , on the other hand, think it's dangerous to let someone else write my life for me. Dangerous, or too difficult. I think it's great that people read books and 'learn' from them, but as one of Steve's favourite bands, The Boomtown Rats, likes to say,
Don't believe what you read...
Maybe he'll think about the gravity of that lyric and understand how I became the person I am. I've read a lot, too, but not for the purpose of finding myself. I like to see how other people interpret things, or read narratives ... I realise that many books are written with an intention to persuade readers to agree with it, but 'agreement' is difficult for me. Too much commitment. In some bizarre way, I am able to approach minute decisions with trepidation while at the same time impulsively making major life choices.
"Eh. What the hell. I'm moving to New Jersey." and that was that. I'm so neurotic and bound-up by probabilities that I have to just close my eyes and poke decisions with a stick...
...and I throw myself into it. No regret, no bitterness, more emptiness. It might take me months, or years, but I never make a decision based on rational thought. Perhaps that's my biggest contradiction. I feel the need to be rational about all things, but deep down inside I know that rationality is subjective;
AAAAAAAAAAAARGH !
Ok, perhaps this is an over exaggeration. Since I live within my own subjectivity, I can say something is rational to the point that starts with me and ends with me. Rational in my rationality. Or maybe not. I find it difficult to think of anything with which I'm able to make an emotional commitment...
"I like this shirt...Well...I think I like it... I like it in like...the sense that...I like the way it looks. Is it really that important to care about the shirt....ehhh....I'm going to watch some mind-numbing tv..."
I love Steve, but his anger towards me wounds me. Why can't I just be nice ? I think guilt is irrational. I refuse to feed it. He thinks I have an obligation towards him to feel guilty. Pretty big problem, I suppose. Oh well.
That's how it always ends with me; oh well.
Steve got a myspace. Slowly but surely I've lost everyone to its lure. He's convinced that somehow it'll help him musically; I'm convinced that he'll get a bunch of add requests from cam-bots. Oh well. He does what he wants, that Steve.
I've felt kind of cold since we were driving around last night in South Jersey...We had just gone to Philly for no other reason than to consume the day, and Steve had taken a wrong turn on the way home. We ended up on a desolate highway lined with only strip clubs, bars, and McDonald's play places. (Maybe dad drops the kids off at the 'Playplace' while he gets a lap dance? I'm not sure about the grand scheme there...)
It was so lonely, and Robert Smith was burning like Fire in Cairo... and Steve was mad at me again. He always gets mad at me because I have a special habit of pushing people to the point where they get really pissed off for no other reason than the cliche 'I felt like doing it,' rationalisation. I know that I'm impulsive beyond the point of sanity, but I don't care...It seems I'm also apathetic beyond the point of sanity.
Ah, that reminds me of the hundreds of times Steve has tried to fight with me about apathy being an 'emotion', and the foundation of his argument is
If you choose not to decide
You still have made a choice
He doesn't sing it, but it still annoys me that he's trying to discredit me with Rush lyrics !! I differ very much from Steve in that he gets most of his opinions and life-outlook from reading hundreds of books, whereas I got all of mine from solitary self-reflection. I suppose that essentially I don't care what someone else thinks about the nature of life. The fact that he/she was published or has millions of admirers doesn't validate one's philosophy for me; I can't buy into something so subjective and personal. Call it egoism if you want, but I feel the act of writing itself is an act of immense egoism. It makes a strong statement that what you think/feel matters.
Therefore, Geddy Lee's accomplishment of making it to the classic rock station doesn't move me to buy into his worldview.
Why can't Steve understand that ? I think he can, but he thinks it's stupid and stubborn. I , on the other hand, think it's dangerous to let someone else write my life for me. Dangerous, or too difficult. I think it's great that people read books and 'learn' from them, but as one of Steve's favourite bands, The Boomtown Rats, likes to say,
Don't believe what you read...
Maybe he'll think about the gravity of that lyric and understand how I became the person I am. I've read a lot, too, but not for the purpose of finding myself. I like to see how other people interpret things, or read narratives ... I realise that many books are written with an intention to persuade readers to agree with it, but 'agreement' is difficult for me. Too much commitment. In some bizarre way, I am able to approach minute decisions with trepidation while at the same time impulsively making major life choices.
"Eh. What the hell. I'm moving to New Jersey." and that was that. I'm so neurotic and bound-up by probabilities that I have to just close my eyes and poke decisions with a stick...
...and I throw myself into it. No regret, no bitterness, more emptiness. It might take me months, or years, but I never make a decision based on rational thought. Perhaps that's my biggest contradiction. I feel the need to be rational about all things, but deep down inside I know that rationality is subjective;
AAAAAAAAAAAARGH !
Ok, perhaps this is an over exaggeration. Since I live within my own subjectivity, I can say something is rational to the point that starts with me and ends with me. Rational in my rationality. Or maybe not. I find it difficult to think of anything with which I'm able to make an emotional commitment...
"I like this shirt...Well...I think I like it... I like it in like...the sense that...I like the way it looks. Is it really that important to care about the shirt....ehhh....I'm going to watch some mind-numbing tv..."
I love Steve, but his anger towards me wounds me. Why can't I just be nice ? I think guilt is irrational. I refuse to feed it. He thinks I have an obligation towards him to feel guilty. Pretty big problem, I suppose. Oh well.
That's how it always ends with me; oh well.