HEAVY
1. I've been reading a lot of depressing articles about the US economy, the erratic behavior of our markets, the securitization of debt (making a liability an "asset") and foreign investment. About how the US overwhelmingly consumes more than it produces and people aren't going to change. It makes me a little nervous. I bought my house, and now it looks like I'm going to be stuck with it. I have credit card debt (not obscene amounts, but nothing I could pay off right away if I had to). I am very much part of the problem (we all are), and near as I can tell the choices that are made have no real correlation with the choices that any of us make as consumers. Maybe it's not very anarchist of me, but I don't like the immediacy of an impending economic collapse. I don't really want to have to scrape by, I don't think it's necessary. I don't want to lose my job because the market for what I make dries up and the millionaire that owns the company I work for wants to cut his losses and weather the storm. I am reading a book called the Underground History of American Education, and he talks a lot about how our society has shifted over the past two hundred years from a largely subsistance based self employed model, whether its a general store owner or a small farmer, to Wal Marts, Nuclear Energy and Consumer Price Indexes. It makes me a little sick. It's been a stressful month in that regard.
2. My dad had a stroke about a 5 weeks ago (I think). I spent two weeks in Chesterton getting his affairs in order, and busting my ass. I did work for work up there during the day and then stayed up until 1am sorting unopened bills, filing things and compiling a list of total outstanding debts in order of which is most past due. It was a significant amount of work. I then went back up there a week after I had got home (Stroke + 3 weeks) and was told how "You may think you're successful, but Andrew (my little brother who is barely passing Lincoln tech doing something he legitimately loves, but isn't very good at), if he ever matches reality with his dreams is going to be unstoppable, really, truely successful. you'll always do alright though." This was my grandfather supposedly quoting my father. I decided that they can both fuck off. I haven't answered a phone call from 219 for two weeks unless I knew who it was, though I do listen to the voicemails. Today my grandfather left a message where he indicated that he had figured out what was going on. He now assumes that I've abdicated any input I would have in my dad's recovery and that he would now relay information only to Chris (my other epic fuck up of a brother). This is a true statement, kind of. I didn't really abdicate anything that I really had to begin with. As soon as I left the hospital two weeks after the stroke, they told the nurses to not talk to me when I called to get information. While I was there decisions were made with out asking me. I was pandered to and treated like a little fucking kid, not a grown up who can make decisions, has a job, and is by any measure of the "system" a productive, respectable, responsible participant thereof. When I went way the hell out of my way to make a 15 minute stop in to the hospital, I was cut down, completely unnecessarily. It should also be noted that getting information about my dad's care 2nd (sometimes third or fourth) hand has been very much like playing Chinese telephone with a bunch of deaf retarded people who don't even know the rules or point of the game. So I was cut off from the only reliable source of information I had. I'll admit though, it was brilliantly played saying that Chris was the responsible one. Chris lives-at-my-moms-house-is-22-and-pretends-to-be-asleep-when-you-knock-on-the-door-but-doesn't-turn-off-the-porn-on-his-computer is now the responsible, successful, respectable one. That made me mad, it was well played. Not mad enough to talk to any one of those mother fuckers ever again though. That level of mad doesn't exist.
3. We fucking crushed the Indiana Mentors 18-8 in a full regulation game. We've tasted blood, now nothing can stand between us and total fucking domination.
2. My dad had a stroke about a 5 weeks ago (I think). I spent two weeks in Chesterton getting his affairs in order, and busting my ass. I did work for work up there during the day and then stayed up until 1am sorting unopened bills, filing things and compiling a list of total outstanding debts in order of which is most past due. It was a significant amount of work. I then went back up there a week after I had got home (Stroke + 3 weeks) and was told how "You may think you're successful, but Andrew (my little brother who is barely passing Lincoln tech doing something he legitimately loves, but isn't very good at), if he ever matches reality with his dreams is going to be unstoppable, really, truely successful. you'll always do alright though." This was my grandfather supposedly quoting my father. I decided that they can both fuck off. I haven't answered a phone call from 219 for two weeks unless I knew who it was, though I do listen to the voicemails. Today my grandfather left a message where he indicated that he had figured out what was going on. He now assumes that I've abdicated any input I would have in my dad's recovery and that he would now relay information only to Chris (my other epic fuck up of a brother). This is a true statement, kind of. I didn't really abdicate anything that I really had to begin with. As soon as I left the hospital two weeks after the stroke, they told the nurses to not talk to me when I called to get information. While I was there decisions were made with out asking me. I was pandered to and treated like a little fucking kid, not a grown up who can make decisions, has a job, and is by any measure of the "system" a productive, respectable, responsible participant thereof. When I went way the hell out of my way to make a 15 minute stop in to the hospital, I was cut down, completely unnecessarily. It should also be noted that getting information about my dad's care 2nd (sometimes third or fourth) hand has been very much like playing Chinese telephone with a bunch of deaf retarded people who don't even know the rules or point of the game. So I was cut off from the only reliable source of information I had. I'll admit though, it was brilliantly played saying that Chris was the responsible one. Chris lives-at-my-moms-house-is-22-and-pretends-to-be-asleep-when-you-knock-on-the-door-but-doesn't-turn-off-the-porn-on-his-computer is now the responsible, successful, respectable one. That made me mad, it was well played. Not mad enough to talk to any one of those mother fuckers ever again though. That level of mad doesn't exist.
3. We fucking crushed the Indiana Mentors 18-8 in a full regulation game. We've tasted blood, now nothing can stand between us and total fucking domination.