Just Because

Just because you can, doesn't mean you should. Just because you should, doesn't mean you will. Just because you will, doesn't mean you're ever even gonna get the chance.

On the Nature of Anger, or... Live and Let Dog (or Cat, or Mouse) Live

Yes, I do get angry sometimes. I think everyone does. Even some of the sweetest, most innocent folks I've personally ever been privileged to know. Such as a few handicapped people I've been lucky enough to be acquainted with over the years, whom, I have observed, that even they too, from time to time, have their little moments of bitter frustration and deep, abiding sorrow and disappointment.

And besides, in most cases, with a little help, and a whole lot of patience, most people tend to "get over it," as they say, as we all should, of course. After all, Life is hard for a whole lot of people. Everyone suffers sometimes. Everybody cries, you know - whether they ever let anyone else see that side of them or not. And some of us, I am deeply saddened to have to acknowledge, definitely seem to have it a whole lot worse than others.

So it's not the periodic strong emotions all us, hopefully humble, human beings tend to feel, or the times of great stress that may cause some folks to be unable to properly manage the more negative side of their nature, but rather, it is how we deal with our inner angst that often makes all the difference in the world.

Therefore, it's where and how we channel that raw energy, that comes as part and parcel to the often bitter slings and arrows of Life, that matters most of all. It's how we use it to either help or hurt others. Especially those closest to us, whom are often the very last people who deserve to be left holding the proverbial bag.

So goes the old adage, that as I often recall, reads something like this:
"The boss takes it out on the man. The man takes it out on his wife. His wife takes it out on the kids. The kids take it out on the dog. The dog takes it out on the cat. The cat takes it out on the mouse. And the mouse? Well, no one quite knows for sure." 🐭

"Don't Hate Me Because I'm Beautiful"

Sometimes, they don't dislike you because of something you supposedly, just maybe, may or may not have even "done wrong" to begin with. Sometimes someone or other in your life just can't stand the sight of you because you may actually possess something that they themselves do not, or something (such as a talent or some other all too obvious virtue - even if it's only innocence) that they might not have in quite such glaring abundance.

Maybe you're just too pretty. Maybe you're just too smart. Maybe you're none of the above. Maybe you're just plain average, but the fault actually lies within them, and not you. Therefore, maybe they themselves feel an overwhelming deficit, a deep chasm in the pit of their very soul, and the only way they can feel better about the sorry state of their own wretched existence is to put others down, just to feel even just a little bit bigger, or so-called "better" than everyone else.

Sometimes it's just because of someone or other in their own past who despised them for no particularly good reason - other than pure, instinctual, bad old fashioned jealousy, that is. You know, envy. Spite. And they are already angry on the inside because maybe... like a lot of us, "Life just doesn't seem fair." Sometimes. Sometimes for healthy folks, but not so much for the mentally ill, the perpetually self-tortured.

So... that right there is actually all the excuse in the world that some sad people might need to hate your stinking guts - and then treat you accordingly. But then... I guess that's just some people for ya. Hmm. 🤨

On the Nature of Perspective

Sometimes, we do not know ourselves as well as those who view us from a different set of eyes, just as those who similarly fail to see themselves from their own frail, limited, human perspective.

Drivin' Like the Demon That Drives Your Dreams

I don't drive very much here in South Korea, but there's this thing that one encounters every now and then in the US, which, in most states, tends to be very much a "car culture."

Here's the scenario; you'll be sitting at the stoplight in your nice, all paid for, affordable and perfectly adequate economy car (that you love, because it was inexpensive, but comfortable, and easy to care for, ultra-easy to park, and eventually replace, etc), but all the country boys in their big pickup trucks, or whatever they may be driving... well, they gotta drag race. Or... something.

Having had that extremely strong, intuitive Sixth Sense, even before I can remember, I can always feel it in the driver of the car in the next lane - even without the distinct sound of the rev of their engine, even without looking over in their general direction. Because we, us drivers, usually both know when that light is just about to change to green.

And that's why I always just sit there for a minute (or rather a few seconds, depending on whether there is another driver waiting in the lane behind me) when the light does change, and just watch the drag-racing jerk drive off in a huge hurry. Chasing...? I don't even know exactly. The devil himself, maybe?

Besides, if you really must drive the biggest (or just the fanciest) vehicle you can barely afford, whether it's actually even practical or not, just to perhaps show off... what exactly? I mean, if you really need that self esteem boost, take it, A**hole! Take it and go your merry little way.

After all, it's just a stoplight. It ain't the Grand Prix. Nor do we really need to drop our pants to compare the family jewels, for crying out loud! And besides, when it's all over and done with, you'll still be going your separate way in Life. And so will I.

But most importantly of all, I didn't even care one lick about where you were going in the first place. I didn't even really care how you might be getting there, OR for that matter, what you might be driving in the process.

So... drive on, dude... buddy... man... pal... mate, or whatever. I honestly wish you peace. May you even get to where you're going as safe, sound, and trouble free as the good Lord will allow. Just please, don't waste my damn time (or gasoline) while you're at it.

On the Nature of Social Media Pandemics, or... One Socialized "Friendship" Inevitably Leads to Another

That's the thing about people, you know. You make (or simply maintain a friendship with) one person, and that at first seemingly harmless social interaction often leads to being forced, or otherwise obliged, to interact with a whole host of others that you may actually end up wishing you hadn't gotten involved with in the first place.

Which can all turn out to be great, of course. But other times, all that goofy socializing actually ends up being a distinct detriment. For example, I worked with a guy whom I actually more or less liked a number of years ago. Nice guy. A reasonably smart guy even - as more or less intelligent people go, that is. The only problem was that he was also a dyed-in-the-wool, fancy "atheist."

Which was fine, really. I mean, that's what I thought at first anyway. Because someone doesn't have to agree with me about everything all the time, right? I mean, what fun would life even be if everyone agreed with us all the time? How would anyone learn anything new? How could we grow as human beings if we didn't encounter others who make us think? I mean, really think.

So at first, I was like, okay, to each his own. Believe or don't believe whatever you want. It's all good, right? Well... not for me in this particular case, anyway. Because this one die-hard atheist friend led to me accepting the friendship of yet another atheist. Which was also fine at first glance. Except that this other atheist was one of those especially vocal sorts. You know, the kind that seems to not be happy unless they're making or sharing hateful Internet memes that disparage Christians in particular.

Yeah, that kind of atheist. The kind that makes all the rest look like sadistic, anarchist monsters with a bug up their itchy, filthy, arrogant buttocks. The kind that just can't not believe in God or an Afterlife, and then... just shut up about it. The kind of person that seems to feel the need to put down anyone with a little faith. The kind of cruel, mean-spirited douchebag who delights in making cracks about the supposed absurdity of a virgin birth. The kind of... well, you get the idea.

So then, within just a few days, I kid you NOT, a whole slew of these other atheist dudes sent me friend requests on Facebook! But, in my characteristic patience, or perhaps fancy-ass magnanimity, I was still like, okay, keep calm, and be "tolerant." Remember now, if you can respect their opinions and beliefs, then they can certainly respect yours. Right?

Uh... nope. Didn't work out quite that way, unfortunately. Nope. Uh-uh. No way, no how, Jose! Not on your life, buddy! No, in fact, before I knew it, my Facebook "news feed" was suddenly inundated with dozens of really offensive and downright condescending and mean memes. Crude jokes about Jesus galore! Horribly irreverent and even sometimes outright obscene depictions of Christ, nuns, priests, and the total disparaging of anything Christian imaginable! Just a constant barrage of rude, insensitive, and just plain intolerant commentary about people of faith in general.

Yet very seldom, if ever, any disparaging remarks and irreverent blaspheming about Muslims or even Buddhists. Not that I particularly want to see that kind of venomous bile being spewed by constantly needling, ankle-biting know-it-all worms like that either, mind you, but it really made me think: What gives? I mean, what the heck is their problem anyway? Why be so nasty? I mean, some people like chocolate ice cream, while others prefer vanilla, right? So... so what! "Live and let live." But that's obviously not what these particular atheists were after.

So finally, one day I just had had enough. So I went to my big, fancy Facebook "friend" list and I just started picking those nasty little buggers off. I just went to town, and unfriended the hell out of the whole stinking lot of them. Good riddance! I mean, who really needs that kind of negativity anyway, right?

So now, I watch, or listen to, daily masses on Youtube. I enjoy the priest or deacon's homily, and I don't give a big flying crap who doesn't like it. Because quite often, even just one bad apple really can spoil the whole darn bunch.

And I don't know about anybody else, but although it is certainly possible to make bitter vinegar from fermented apples, and although vinegar too, most definitely has its uses, it is infinitely wiser, I have found, to keep your spoiled rotten fruit well away from the cream of the crop - lest it too become hopelessly tainted.

On the Nature of Unfair Competition, or... Those Who Honestly Think They Never Win

You see, it wasn't that I didn't agree with his commentary. After all, everybody, every single one of us, has not only the right to have their own opinion, but we all also have the right to express our ideas. Politely, and within reason, of course.

No, what bothered me was that after reading what he wrote, I could see that, even after all these years... since primary school, junior high, and even high school, he was apparently still comparing himself to me. Yeah, yeah! I was "gifted." I was "the best" at this or that. So what!

Well, sorry (not sorry), but I just don't have time for that. Because not only do I believe that "the last will be first, and the first will be last," I also quite strongly believe that everyone has value. Even villains. Because without the bad guys, how would we even know who and what to look to as truly good in this world?

No, I'm not as rich or as famous as I might have been lead to believe I might one day be when I was growing up in a really small town with only 50 kids (including myself) in our graduating class, but who cares? Just look at the recent COVID-19 outbreak. Think about all the rich, spoiled-rotten celebrities who were whining - despite their millions - because... well, I guess they have troubles, too. Imagine that.

So yeah, I don't know why exactly I'm still stuck where I am today, but then, I gave it all up to God a long, long time ago. "Thy will be done." Because in the end, you can pray and pray, but things just work out the way they're supposed to sometimes. And we mere mortals simply do not always understand why or even how. So, all I can do is what absolutely every other fellow human being on this Earth does every single day - well, all the one's who are still able, anyway - I get up and I do the best I can.

Sometimes it's not good enough though. Sometimes I feel angry and frustrated. But I keep getting up, and I keep on trying. And sorry (not sorry), but I honestly don't think that comparing myself, and my own unique journey in Life to anyone else, would serve any of us in any truly positive way, shape, or form.

And that's just the way it is, really. And there ain't no more. Because again, "I'm not in competition with anyone. I hope we all make it." Because I wasn't competing with anyone (but maybe myself) back in high school, and I sure as heck aren't now either.

On the Nature of Artifice

So honestly, I don't really care who doesn't click "like." I could give a crap less who reads or doesn't read my often lengthy diatribes and perhaps even rather antisocial social commentary! I don't even give a hoot when people say, "I think you just need to write a book." Because I'll just reply, "That's funny. I thought I was!" I mean, if everybody paid inordinate attention to all their critics, or even their devoted, covetous, blubbering fans, why even bother to produce anything at all in the first place?

Art, real artifice, has not so much to do with the audience as it does with the expression of the artist. For all fame is fleeting, all adoration is fickle and easily distracted, and in end, all that really matters is that you put in the work, you went through the paces, you did a dozen sloppy sketches before you even put a drop of careful paint on the canvas. You scrawled a thousand and one silly little words on a hundred and one scraps of paper. And maybe that's good enough. At least, when it comes to most fine art anyway - for only Time and Posterity tends to tell the true and lasting worth of the vast majority of any of it.

On the Nature of Time and Timelessness

In fact, I pity those who fail to see the beauty, the wisdom, the timeless splendor, of all things that are not merely "old," but may linger still, because they have somehow managed to stand the often cruel test of time - where so many other fleeting human works of whimsy have long since been all but forgotten. Yes, the movie might be "old," the song may not be the latest or greatest version, the once prettiest little girl in the class may now gaze at time-withered hands through the myopic prism of tired, ancient eyes, and some of the very best books ever written may have been patiently lying in wait on a dusty shelf for decades, or even centuries, to finally be savored anew by a blissfully unsuspecting generation of foolhardy initiates - the latest model, the youngest brood yet still unripe enough to fancy themselves prematurely "wise" - but... why then, does it often seem that only the very old and the very young know the true value of even the simplest, most deceptively mundane of such things?

On the Nature of Friendship

Some are former friends. Some are future friends. Yet still more, and perhaps even the vast bulk of interpersonal acquaintances, whether great, small or anywhere in between, are merely Purgatorial in nature. Or rather, many are but friends in waiting. Because sometimes we (hopefully) humble human beans, we who may forever struggle desperately to sprout, ever clawing to burst through the earthly crust within which we are quite literally rooted, to strain, to stretch, to reach beyond our mortal grasp toward the photosynthetic brilliance of the great Divine. So, sometimes we may simply have little choice but to wait until the moment when we are truly ready to actually BE, or merely to have, the truest of friends.

"Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, Or what's a heaven for?"
~ Robert Browning