Remember between the end of the Cold War and 9/11 when such overrated classics like The Matrix, Fight Club, and American Beauty reminded us that we are bored with life and need to escape reality?
Then a few planes crashed into some buildings and everyone was like “how horrible!” but were secretly like “oh thank god! Something interesting is happening in the world” because we’re sick and terrible people?
There’s something deep-seated in the human psyche that draws it towards suffering. It’s like we need it to be reminded that we’re still alive.
We are sick and terrible people and a meteor needs to strike the earth to put us out of our misery.
But until this happens, we have to occupy the time in between. So don’t forget to install those gutters, paint your walls, and plant those gardens….
While sitting on the toilet (which I clogged btw), I came across an interesting paper with a memorable title called “Explaining and inducing savant skills: privileged access to lower level, less processed information” by Allen Snyder, which you can read here:
Sometimes I engage in armchair (or toilet) philosophy, and this paper kinda reaches at what I’ve been screaming about on the internet for all these years: that we form ideological (or “holistic”, using the terms of the paper) perceptions on nature, which in effect disguises the TRUE reality of nature…BUT we have access to this “lower level, less processed”, pre-ideological information which is how we are able to speculate on this nature at all.
Savants don’t have a problem accessing this information, hence the subject of this paper. The reason they don’t is due to abnormal, neurodivergent functions in the brain that can be caused by genetic factors or injury. This permits them to see the world in its factual, literal state which can lead to incredible cognitive abilities.
However, in a “normal”, non-savant brain, we begin to categorize this literal information, which permits us to socialize, communicate, and operate on the barest of facts. Language presumably plays a tremendous role in this phenomenon. But these categories are merely a projection facilitated by prior experience and socialization. They are not actual “facts”.
But I’m just a guy sitting on the toilet. What do I know?
Besides, as all of you know, I refuse to breathe the same shit-reeked air that all you plebs breath in. When I do my shopping, I hold my breath in and sprint through the grocery store before passing out.
I sometimes wonder: do people not know when they’re insane?
I mean, obviously if they did know they were crazy, then they wouldn’t be crazy. That makes sense, right?
But has society made insanity somewhat permissible? And has this become apparent to some people but not to others?
I grew up around rich kids. My parents weren’t rich. They liked to think they were but they weren’t. Everyone knew they weren’t rich…at least not as rich as they were…so everyone kinda patted my family on the head and said “nice try, but you’re not in the club”. So I had an unusual upbringing where I was at the bottom of a rather exclusive and rarefied ladder.
I’m not asking for pity, I had it pretty good overall, I’m just saying: I grew up on the outside looking into a party of insane, sociopathic people.
Now all my rich friends are grown up. I don’t talk to any of them, but I CAN Facebook stalk them and what I find is extremely gratifying: many of them have been arrested and/or have drug problems.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been in the same situation, but those were youthful transgressions by comparison. I didn’t have a career or family and people just kinda accepted that I was a drunk asshole. But eventually there came a point where I said: “this is not acceptable” (or rather, a judge said that).
But by looking at the Facebook profiles of a bunch of 30 and 40 year olds, that thought hasn’t occurred to any of them. I mean, how many domestic violence arrests do you need? They do know that bail and attorney fees costs money right? The police are “harassing” you? But you’re white and rich!
Like I said, reading this shit is like Christmas to me. Is my life much better? Maybe not monetarily. But at least I’m not in a state of denial about being an asshole and a menace to society. You can have sympathy for them, but these people contributed to my inferiority complex. So until I get an apology, fuck em.
But I guess when you live in that rarified atmosphere, you can double down on your bad decisions. Some smart guy supposedly once said: “the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” And if you’re rich enough, you can afford to do that.
No I’m not bitter about being condescended to by rich people as a child. I have a lucrative job at the toilet factory and run successful blog. Why should I be jealous?
Sometimes to feel better about myself, I’ll peruse the Reddit boards of single guys. Not the MGTOW or incel stuff, but the boards that discuss the general lives of single men.
Just to reiterate, being in a long term relationship is great. Top 10 experience for sure. And it’s alarmingly easy to be in one (if you’re an adult).
So it’s important to note that if you’re not in a romantic relationship and you want to be in one, it’s totally your fault.
So assuming that you’re a normal, functioning adult male, I have some excellent news for you: if you listen to me, you DEFINITELY won’t be a ladies man but you’ll find yourself a romantic partner soon, tomorrow probably.
How can I be so sure?
Well let me introduce you to two men:
The first was an alcoholic writer that found success late in life. The other is a philosopher that eats from a trash can. But these two men could get it (ladies, don’t chime in).
What do you notice about these guys? Would you say they’re ‘good looking’? Are they well kempt? Do they look healthy and in shape? The answer to all three questions is a resounding ‘no’.
So how do (did) they do it?
The answer is easy: they don’t give a shit. But they also share another trait: they possess an ‘edge’.
Is this ‘edge’ confidence? Absolutely not. Bukowski was especially self-loathing and self-deprecating. Zizek, on the other hand, hardly realizes that he’s an actual person that moves through space and time.
Is it because they’re funny? In their own way, yes. But this humor derives from their character. It has nothing to do with them being especially cunning.
Are they ‘dangerous’? Lol! No.
So what is this ‘edge’?
Honestly, that’s difficult to say. Some might say a man has to be a “master of his domain”, but that sounds like nonsense. I imagine it depends on the man. But if I had to guess, I’d say this ‘edge’ has something to do with viewing the world with clarity and lacking pretension. Or, in another way, it’s accepting who you are and not giving a shit.
So if you want to be successful in relationships, or just want to get into one at all, one must “know thyself”.
Another thing is the misplaced emphasis on sex. Part of growing up is realizing that “everything is about sex except for sex.” Most of the time, I wish that I stayed home and watched porn instead.
Also, women piss, shit, fart, burp, and are every bit as disgusting as you and me. They know that WE do those things, but they love us nonetheless. So I don’t see what your problem is dude.
And stop saying your “single”. Just say you’re “not in a long term relationship currently”. Ladies can get away with announcing their singleship. It will always work out in their favor. It won’t for you. That’s just facts.
Just trying to help dude. Hate the game, not the messenger. Or whatever.
So I was tossing and turning over night, agonizing over a specific question: is pop culture dead?
Of course, “pop culture” can never really “die” so long as there’s entertainment, fashion, etc. But has it fundamentally shifted in a way that requires new methods of critique?
Guys like Theodore Adorno were critiquing “pop culture” way back in the 1940s, claiming things like movies, music, etc. were massed produced commodities and were therefore not genuine (or whatever). But maybe the pandemic and the prolific use of the internet has changed the game.
Obviously these things have changed the way we interact with pop culture, but the question I’m concerned with is: “has the pandemic, and specifically the internet, changed the very nature of pop culture itself.”
(This is all from my dementia-driven perspective, btw)
Anyways, what made me agonize over this question is that everything feels a little passé. When people talk about reading tweets, I’m thinking “you’re still using Twitter?”. Even at 106 years old, I feel like I’m more “in the know” than most 20 year olds. It’s not because I’m “cooler” than them, it’s because they don’t give a shit. So how can “pop culture” be pop culture if it’s not popular?
So I was at a writer’s workshop where some dude was trying to get under my skin. Then we became best friends. Tom Brady also showed up because he was trying to get his acting career started. Why he was at a writer’s workshop was never explained.
Then, like a ghost from the past, appeared an old friend. In real life I haven’t spoken to him in nearly 15 years. His brother was actually my best friend and our friendship ended in the worst possible way: in a courtroom (we both lost btw). It’s one of my biggest regrets, and in truth, I dream about him often.
But his brother shows up, and I confide in him that I think highly of his sibling and I miss them both. In fact, I tell him that I am at this workshop because I am writing a fictionalized version of our friendship.
The Brother tells me that I can’t do that. I ask why and he disappears into a bookstore. I go looking for him and I find him with three small children. I ask him again why I can’t write the book. He tells me that his brother’s dead and that one of these children is his son.
It was a poignant moment in the dream. It reminded me of the passage of time, how we were once small children, and how we are now creating the next generation. I tell the Son of my best friend that I too have a son, how fortunate he is to have his uncle, and that his father was a good man.
The Brother disappears once again, and I help the Child find his uncle. As I walk with the Child, he tells me to not have regrets, and that he hopes to meet my son. I tell him that “that’s a very nice thing to say,” and that I hope they meet someday too.
Finally, we find his uncle standing outside. He’s with two men in suits. I tell the Brother that per his wishes, I won’t write the book. One of the men in suits spoke up and said “that’s a wise decision.”
“Are you an attorney?” I ask.
“What if I changed all the names and events? Can you sue me then?” I said.
“Well clearly he (my best friend) is everything that he’s not,” the lawyer replied. Whatever that meant.
I look over to the Brother. “Did you invite these guys here?” I ask.
“Well fuck it,” I said. “I’m writing the book.”
I then pointed at the lawyer’s shirt like he had a stain. When he looked down, I lifted my finger up to his face.