Meditations on Power: I

Power.

It is a common word. We use it everyday in multiple contexts, allowing it to slip from our tongues with the incoherent babble most of us consider speech. In such a context, hardly receiving notice, it lies in the corner -- save for when it is bandied about as a substitute for electricity or political might only to be quickly discarded once more as one would drop an overly rotten piece of fruit.

In the realm of linguistic beauty, power drew the short stick. It lacks the ability to glide from one's tongue, instead content to project itself out as a guttural expulsion of air. It twists in one's larynx, and finishes -- to an American, anyway -- in an almost lame fashion. Even written, it lacks the elegance and poise of some other words in the English language. Power is an ugly word.

Yet in some of its incarnations, Power defines something most men desire. Here, despite outer appearance, Power becomes beautiful. To some, it is wanted more than the trappings of the flesh. Such men toil their entire lives for but a glimpse, slavering at each turn with the hopes that it will be within their grasp. Most pass from this earth having never felt her embrace.

She stands above the world, bearing mute witness to the atrocities committed through love for her. She stands unflinching as men place their names before hers, put their identity to her machinations. And still she sees fit to gently caress some of those who come to court her, knowing full well that men who approach her willingly are not to be trusted with her gift. Yet it is not Power's place to judge, and even if it is she cares nothing for it, preferring to allow mortals to sort themselves out as she spins her web.

Even with all her ugliness and beauty, Power is a harsh mistress. She is exacting and cruel, happy to cut men down and complicate their petty plans whenever she deems fit. Yet she is not without mercy. She knows how seductive her touch is, that men will destroy everything they might hold dear for one fleeting moment with her. Thus, she grants men leave men to slough off the hardship of mortality by removing her hand from one's back, silencing their struggle forever.

If it seems as though I deify Power, it may be that I, too, worship her every breath. I desire her embrace, to feel the back of her hand stroke my cheek -- yet I fear it. History has shown what men marked by Power are capable of, and I often wonder if I am strong enough to feel her love and remain steadfast and true where so many others have failed. She haunts my every dream, tantalizing me with a brief glimpse of her sweet form, whispering, "You can be great." Such seduction, I am convinced, is not felt by all. But that is for another day.

Power has marked me for my desire of her, as she has marked so many others. Upon one marked as such she writes the truth, scribbling across one's eyes,"this is my suitor," so that all men will know our intent -- for the want of Power is, to some, an evil, and she would see us humbled for the arrogance we show in thinking we might dance with her.

Even so, I continue to lay roses at her doorstep.

Theism vs. Anti-theism

Atheism is a huge trend in the 21st century. People like Richard Dawkins make money hand over fist writing about the phenomenon and tearing down the structure Christians have put in place and jealously guarded. As a movement, Atheism has roots dating back hundreds of years, but only recently has it gained power, and little wonder! Christianity has been a world power for thousands of years, and despite its profession of love and peace, there is little love and peace amongst its followers.

Yes, Christianity seems to bring out the worst in people. But why is there such ugliness and bigotry in a religion founded upon the teachings of a supposedly good and holy man? It may have something to do with the rejection of human nature Christianity puts forth. Most of what Christianity calls sins are acts and thoughts human beings have been doing and thinking since time immemorial. To reject this is to cause needless strife.

It seems as though atheists have a particular bone to pick with Christianity, and many I've encountered fail to realize there are other religions that have nothing to do with the Abrahamic god. Worse, they mislabel and misunderstand neo-paganism as much as most fluffy bunny middle-aged housewives. To be fair, many atheists could be properly labeled anti-theists, not because they reject the belief in a deity, but because they actively assail the belief in a deity.

Atheists and anti-theists have the tendency to rebel against the dogma of most of Christianity's followers by saying "you can't push your beliefs on me", and while some are well-intentioned, many go on the attack and denounce theist beliefs as bad for the world, or outdated and outmoded methodologies. The very freedom to believe they claim to defend seems to only pertain, in their minds, to their fellow atheists, as evidenced by the poison dripping in their words when viewing theistic beliefs.

There is no doubt about it: theism is under attack, and Christianity is to blame. Many atheists were raised, or are being raised, in a pious Christian household, and their experiences were almost universally negative. Small wonder, then, that they'd be so aggressive in speaking out against the beliefs that were being pushed on them by their family. But are their attacks on theism justifiable? I don't believe so.

Given that the main offender seems to be Christianity, why are atheists so gung-ho to say that *all* religion is bad? Are they truly so knowledgeable that they can paint theism with such broad strokes? I have no qualms with hypothesizing, likely accurately, that most atheists have no such experience; neo-paganism is itself such a large umbrella that it's nearly impossible to say that all religion is equally as bad as Christianity.

It is true that many Christians denounce science, logic, and much more. It is true that people like Rick Santorum exist. However, Christians and Rick Santorum do not accurately represent every human being with religious beliefs. Not every individual with religious or spiritual beliefs is going to reject science and  logic in favor of nonsensical dogma. Intelligent, reasonable, science-loving theists do exist!

Hello, I am a hard polytheist. I have a love of psychology, I am pro-choice, I have no issues with homosexuals, transsexuals, or transgendered individuals,  I enjoy a good argument, and I do not depend on prayer (a largely Christian concept) to magically or mystically get things done. I do not believe that earth is actually made out of the corpse of a celestial giant, and I do not believe the first man and woman were made from driftwood found on a beach. Creation myths are called myths for a reason.

Some may find it strange that reason and religion can go hand in hand, yet I can safely say I manage it just fine. I've surprised a good number of people by speaking of science and the like and then mentioning the fact that I am a hard polytheist. Is it so odd? Am I less of a person?

This is not a defense of Christianity, mind you. Christianity and its followers have a lot to atone for, especially in the eyes of fellow theists. But to say that all religion and theism is bad simply because Christianity has made a lot of mistakes is just as illogical as Christians stating that homosexuality is a sin by quoting Leviticus.

Atheists are capable of as much bigotry and blind hatred as any member of Christianity, and they are just as apt to wield it against others. That atheists attack and denounce Christian belief as dumb and illogical is evidence of this, and the attacks against theism in general show that not all atheists understand everything about every religion and prefer to paint with broad strokes - exactly what they accuse Christians of doing.

If you don't believe in deities, that's fine! There are atheistic religions, too! Believe what you want; I could care less. But don't tell me that my belief in multiple deities is bad-wrong simply because you had a bad experience with an entirely unrelated religion. It doesn't make you cool, it doesn't make you smart, and it doesn't make you a better person. What it does make you is an ignorant jackass, and looking at the majority of Christians in America, we have enough of those.

Don't be an ignorant, atheistic jackass. Not all theists hate you and want to kill your children.

For fuck's sake, people.

Disobedience

Now and then it feels as though I am going to lose my mind. Not by choice, mind you; I'm not sure anyone willfully loses any semblance of mental health, and if they do they are likely already in a padded room. The world has a habit of baring down on us, and it would strangle the lot of us if it had the chance. In truth, it's strangled quite a few of us already; just look at the number of suicides per year. It's staggering what happens to us when we feel we are out of air, even if we're breathing one-hundred percent oxygen.

What do we do to cope? Some of us abuse substances, some of us lose ourselves in fantasy worlds, and even more of us are stuffing our noses into fancy cell phones in an attempt to ignore the horrors about us. Who can blame us, really? The world is scary, especially when one has been brought up in abundance and safety. It is hard to imagine scarcity and danger, even when it knocks on one's door. So we turn to our vices, stick our entire beings into something impersonal, and put our brains on autopilot in an effort to strain the noise out from the signal.

If you are able to do these things, I both dislike and am envious of you. It must be nice to forget oneself and the world around, to be in tune with absolutely nothing other than one's own selfishness, to suffer only when one wishes to. It must be nice to be able to stick one's fingers in one's ears and pretend the monsters don't exist.

I am unable to do these things, try as I might. My mind does not know silence; it is always active in one form or another, pointing things out and coming to conclusions. It keeps me awake at night, whispering doom in such a fashion that I am unable to ignore. This is all poetical imagery, of course; all of this is done by my own volition as there is no way for my mind to speak on its own. If there was, I would be seeking help.

What I mean is that substances, fantasy, or going on autopilot are options for coping that I do not and never have had. I see the world around me, feel it under my feet, the stink invades my nostrils. The world I experience is capable of overwhelming the senses, and not always in a pleasant way. It's been hard to deal with.

Feeling helpless is not something I've ever been suited for - sitting around and feeling bad only makes me angry. I've never really been one to simply take what is thrown my way. While I may show quiet resignation from time to time, at the very least I am plotting vengeance, at the most I am happily and loudly throwing it away. It's enough to say that I'm taking quite a lot of time to say that I do not shy from confrontation when I feel endangered. I've always felt that sets me apart in some ways; despite what we may say to sound tough, many of us become passive-aggressive because we fear retaliation.

So what happens to me? I get angry, to the point where I feel as though I am aflame and shaking with a berserker's rage. I choose to do so, as the only other alternative for me is to allow myself to be beaten down. Fighting back is in my blood, and I'll never tire of it so long as I exist within a world I can neither agree with nor remove myself from.

How do I cope?

I disobey.

Sleep is for Weaklings

I have an awful attitude when it comes to sleep. Notably, I despise the idea of it. Given that most human beings require around eight hours of it a night, that eats up a third of one's life - that's right, a third of your life is spent in bed, and not in the good way! Some people love sleeping, and would do it all day if they could. Some do, and consider it to be a form of consciousness where they walk about on autopilot all day.

As for myself, sleeping seems like a waste of perfectly valuable time. Nothing is accomplished, one is extraordinarily vulnerable to outside threats, and one does not stop aging. Given this, why the hell do we do it, outside of it being a biological need? I would much rather get my refresh from something that didn't suck up eight hours of my time, thanks. Maybe I could create some sort of instant-refresh machine, kind of like a checkpoint in most video games. Need to rest? Just pop into the AutoRefresh 2000 and suddenly you're good as new; you just slept eight hours in two seconds.

Some of this attitude comes from my light insomnia. There are nights where I can't get to sleep, and it's infuriating every time. So I may or may not have consciously decided that sleep is the devil as a way to cope with the fact that I can't have it all the time. But this would more likely explain a desire to sleep as opposed to a desire to avoid it! Since I've yet to meet anyone who feels the same as I do about sleep, the only logical conclusion is that I am a superior breed of human being whose focus is on productivity and efficiency (and who is mysteriously lagged down by modern society's lackadaisical lifestyle).

The time I spend sleeping could be spent reading, writing, or steadily losing my mind. Eight hours of self betterment down the drain, and why? Because my body seems to think it needs to rest, recharge, and clear things out. What really sucks is that when I try to take that time to read and write, only half gets absorbed because of exhaustion. Truly, the war I wage is a losing one. Hell, even now I fear I'm rambling on due to my heavy eyelids.

I should give up and go to bed, but I don't want to. That siren can take her call and choke on it, because I'm not buying her product. I don't want her fluffy sheets nor her gentle caress. I don't want the wacky, often far-too-realistic dreams I end up having. I want to spend my time doing something that will either enrich me or make me rich. Maybe enrich a rich guy named Rich. See what I mean about not making sense?

You know what? Sleep should be a privilege. If you don't exercise or use your brain for more than breathing, you don't get to sleep! After all, if you're just running on autopilot, it's not as though you are giving your brain much of a work out. Instead, you're giving it a bag of Doritos, the remote, and a copy of the TV Guide. That thing's doing nothing but crying over Lifetime movies. You know, the one with the girl and the husband who beats her, but she gets better and becomes strong only to find true love?

I think I just accidentally spoiled every Lifetime movie past, present, and future. You're welcome, now go read a fucking book.

How To Be Unproductive

Productivity is considered a good thing. It builds bridges, crosses gaps, creates religions, and in general makes everyone feel good about themselves. If you're not productive, you are considered lazy, a slacker, a good-for-nothing, and an overall bum. The problem is that with the advent of television shows depicting people working, the internet, and cell phones that do more than make calls, being productive in this world is damn hard; nearly everyone I know has ADD, simply because they never learned discipline.

Speaking of reality TV shows, why *do* we have this preoccupation with watching people performing in their occupation of choice? It started, I think, with Deadliest Catch. Then it was Pawn Stars, then Cake Boss, then Auction Your Shit, then Storage Wars. At first, these shows were interesting. Even I'll admit that I found Pawn Stars to be fascinating not because of the individuals who work in the shop, but because of the pieces of history and Americana that often find their way into that particular shop. It's a small history lesson every episode, which is more than most shows can say.

Still, what the hell? What is there to learn from Storage Wars, or Ice Road Truckers? Oh, and Army Wives! Who the hell wants to watch a bunch of military wives whine about how their husbands volunteered for service during war time and were shipped out? Have we become so devoid of actual culture that we actually enjoy sitting on our asses watching television that has no purpose other than to brain drain?

The Internet, once a place of learning and always the porn capital of the universe, is of even less help. It is chock full of websites that will suck out your brain and dull your senses. There's nothing positive to gain from a website such as Facebook that doesn't equate to masturbation - doing something exclusively to feel better about yourself. I'll admit that the Internet has absolutely ruined any sense of self-discipline and imagination that I once possessed.

I used to be thrilled at the idea of writing. I remember when I'd take my mother's electronic typewriter so that I could write my Star Wars fan fiction (Rogue Squadron, bitches) more readily. It never got anywhere, and I'm sure the pages are long gone, but I still remember writing it, and being happy about it. I used to fill notebooks, especially in high school, with theories, philosophies, stories, poetry, and musings. Now I appear to only collect notebooks, with multiple pages left blank for years. Even my regular moleskin gets little to no love for me, and well over 3/4 of it is blank. The only writing I do is the occasional blog post and D&D adventures, which I admit is better than nothing and lets me dip into that fantasyland I've been hiding for ten years.

Even my appetite for reading has lessened. I used to devour books, mostly fiction, and as I grew older I wound up having an intense dislike for fiction and moved on to nonfiction. But still, I read less than I should or than I'd like, but I have trouble making a conscious effort to do so. I have a reading list longer than I'd like to admit. Hell, I still want to reread John Adams by David McCullough, but I doubt I'll ever get around to it. Frankly put, my discipline is in a sad state, and I think almost the entire world under the age of 40 is in the same boat.

It's easy to blame external sources for our lack of productivity, but what's really to blame? The Internet, TV, cell phones, and video games? Doubtful. For everything these things have done to ruin us, we've no one to blame but ourselves for our lack of discipline. Hear that? It's your own damn fault you can find nothing better to do but rot in front of your TV or computer screen.

If you want to be productive, step away from the internet, turn the TV off, and go do something. Force yourself past that initial point of resistance, and continue to do so every time you hit that all-too-familiar roadblock of laze and procrastination. It's the only thing that will save you from having a biography that reads "He played video games, watched TV, and converted oxygen to carbon dioxide. I suppose he was an alright guy."

Your Legs Are Too Long, And I Hate You

While wandering around the wonderfully low price, low class, and low-American-made products wonderland that is Wal-Mart, a strange, rhythmic 'swoosh' sound assaulted my ears. It sounded like a hard-bristled brush being rubbed against a ceramic tile. This is actually a sound many of you are familiar with, as you've either generated it or been a victim of it.

This horrifying sound is caused by one thing, and one thing only: people who have muscle mass so deficient that they are unable to lift their feet while they walk. Well, that's not entirely true. It is also generated by people who either never learned how to properly walk or are so lazy that they lift their feet only enough to be able to swing their leg forward, essentially dragging the sole of their shoes against the ground.

When I learned how to walk, it went something like this: step, lift foot, move foot forward, plant foot, repeat with opposite foot, repeat. It was that simple, and I mastered it by the time I was three. I was a walking master. If I was able to figure out how to walk so easily, how is it that other individuals above the age of three are unable to lift their feet enough to not shuffle about? Did they never make it past that stage of development physically?

What's worse, it's clear they make no effort to lift their feet - clearly that level of physical exertion puts too much strain on their frail human bodies. So while they're walking around, all you hear is the sultry, sexy sound of their shoe brand of choice being dragged forcibly across the floor. Yeah, that's right, baby!  Drag those feet! Nothing is sexier than a woman incapable of walking correctly!

Not only does this actually make your shoes wear down faster, but it makes you prone to falling on your face, which I admit would amuse me greatly. But that's beside the point, which is that you should pick up your fucking feet - shuffling about makes you look like a Neanderthal. If you are incapable of lifting your feet while you walk, perhaps I'll have to saw your legs off, as they're apparently far too long, you freak.

I See You Touching Myself

    When I was young, I went for adventures in the woods behind my house. It was fantastic, and to this day I'm still shocked that I made it back to the house before dark most days. It started with my brother and I finding a suitable spot to make something of a fort. It was across a brook, which is really small but when you are six seems incredibly wide and deep. So we decided to needed a way to cross this without getting our legs soaked - we built a bridge out of a couple smaller trees we felled.

    The fort didn't take root due to lack of work, but it still left me with a desire to go out into the forest. So I did, and continued to do so for years. While out there by myself and with my brother/dad, I learned how to survive in rough conditions. But most importantly, I drank from water sources most city-dwelling individuals would die from consuming. I believe my drinking from brooks, streams, and rivers granted me a stronger immune system - at the very least, I've had less bacterial infections than many people I know.

    That, however, did not prepare me for the absolute horror that the common cold brings upon me. Like a Mack truck smacking into a Ford Fiesta head-on (apply directly to the forehead) at 95 MPH, the common cold totals me - yes, an insurance company flat-out tells my friends and family to just order a new one; it's that bad. You think having the sniffles and a cough is bad? Well, gentle reader, man the fuck up and ship off to Boston - you can't top the aches, the clogged sinuses, the faucet nose, the headaches, the bronchial congestion that gets worse when one goes horizontal. And this isn't simply for a day or two, no - it's for 4-5 days, sometimes a week. If I have it really bad, two weeks of hell.

For a simple, common virus, it's Godzilla. I am Tokyo. Everyone around me is The Blue Oyster Cult. Yes, there are Japanese people in train cars inside of me being thrown across my sinuses. The ultimate irony? I think this may be nature's way of giving me the finger for never contracting the flu. I couldn't catch the flu if I rubbed a flu-infected individual's feces on my face and took a swim in their vomit. I'm fairly certain I am an antibody in and of myself.

Don't want the flu, baby? Fuck the shot; have a tall glass of me.